Thirty-Four
Reece
“Jean, tell them they need to marry in a church or they won’t have a healthy marriage,” Grandma Ruth scolds my mother, leaning back into my parents’ loveseat with her post-dinner coffee.
Mom rolls her eyes as Evan stifles a laugh. “It’s their wedding, Mom. They’re getting married at a vineyard and it’s going to be beautiful.”
“A vineyard ?” Grandma’s screech can probably be heard by the young family next door.
“Any chance there’s some more wine from that vineyard in the house now?” my cousin Amy asks, glancing at me, Stace, Gemma, Tashia, and Evan.
Gemma giggles, pushing herself off the couch and hoisting my cousin up off the floor. “Come on. We’ll fill up.” She gestures to her empty wine glass. “Anyone else?”
I raise my beer bottle. “I’ll take another.”
Stacy just nods in response, clutching her empty wine glass like a lifeline as she sits stiffly against me on the couch.
This whole day’s been uncomfortable. Stacy and I barely talked on the drive up to Cincinnati this morning. She’s been withdrawn and reserved the whole day and, though my family hasn’t mentioned anything, I can see both Gemma and Evan throwing her questioning glances.
Thanksgiving dinner was decent enough. Stacy was polite and conversational with my family, grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousin included, but I know her well enough to know that she’s not herself. She’s not the determined, stubborn, sassy Stacy that I know.
She’s quiet and I’m not stupid. It’s because there are a million things that’ve been left unsaid between us.
“… God will not be happy, Evan,” I hear Grandma Ruth say, pulling my attention back to my childhood living room.
“But I will be drunk on very good wine at my wedding, Grandma,” Evan argues, his lips tilting up like he’s completely at ease tormenting our poor grandmother.
Grandma scoffs while Dad pinches his nose in his fingers, taking a big swig of the bourbon in his hand.
Grandma turns to where Stacy and I are nuzzled together on the couch as Gemma deposits new drinks into our hands. “What about you two? When you two get married, it’ll be in a church, right?”
Stacy chokes a bit on the wine she just sipped and I hear Tashia snort from the other side of the room. I take a swig of my beer and ponder the best way to answer Grandma’s question.
“We’re only twenty-one, Grandma,” I finally decide.
Grandma waves her manicured hand at me, her bangle bracelets clattering together. “Tashia’s twenty-two.”
“They haven’t been together for long, Grandma,” Tashia interjects.
I swear I can hear Stacy gritting her teeth and I gently stroke the skin of her bicep before she can ruin Thanksgiving by fist fighting my ex-girlfriend.
“Only a few months,” Stace agrees, cocking her head. “About the same amount of time that you and Evan were sleeping together behind Reece’s back, Tashia. What was that, six or seven months?”
“Okay!” I interject, standing up off the couch as my aunt, mother, and sister stifle a laugh. Grandma and Grandpa’s jaws unhinge at the comment and Tashia’s face is the color of the cranberry sauce we just ate.
“How about we play a game?” Evan says at the same time, hopping up from his spot and plastering a huge smile on his face.
“We could play the newlywed game?” Tashia suggests, standing to join my brother. “See which couple really knows each other best.” She cuts her eyes towards Stacy who pushes herself off the couch to hook her arm in mine.
“Or Taboo ?” Gemma suggests as Amy cackles in the corner.
“Ohh, Taboo . Tashia loves forbidden things,” Stacy mumbles against the rim of her wine glass.
“Alright, maybe we take a break from the wine,” I tell her, snatching the red wine out of her hand and setting it down on the glass coffee table.
I feel Stacy glaring at me but I don’t look at her as Amy and Evan start to pull board games out of the TV stand.
Stace has an attitude and I know it’s because of whatever’s going on with us but I can’t pretend that it’s not pissing me off a little bit.
She’s supposed to be here for me, supposed to make a good impression on my family, and she’s acting out because…
Well, I don’t even know why. She’s the one who said we need to dial our relationship back and now she’s upset?
“Maybe something a little less competitive?” Mom suggests as she collects empty pie plates with my Aunt Maggie’s help.
“I like a little competition,” Tashia says, throwing an icy glare in Stacy’s direction.
“Me too,” Stace sniffs, a beaming smile on her lips. “I never lose.”
Dear. God .
“How about Charades ?” Amy suggests, anxiously glancing back and forth between me and Evan.
Gemma chortles, crossing her legs and leaning back in the recliner. “No, no. Let them go, this is fun.”
“Gemma,” Mom scolds, plucking Grandma’s coffee mug out of her hand as Grandpa starts to doze off next to her.
“Alright, Charades it is!” Evan declares.
My grandparents head out for the evening as we set up for the game.
Mom, Dad, Aunt Maggie, and Uncle Scott go to have coffee on the covered patio, leaving us to our game.
I can’t help but feel like Mom and Dad simply don’t want to mediate the conversation between Stacy and Tashia and I’m getting more pissed off by the second at the immature way Stacy’s acting.
We set up three teams of two: me and Stacy, Evan with Tashia, and Gemma with Amy.
Gemma and Amy start and Gemma immediately nails it by guessing Leonardo DiCaprio.
Evan and Tashia go next and it takes Tashia a few tries but she finally gets that Evan is hinting at grocery shopping.
Stacy gets my point pretty quickly and guesses Meryl Streep almost right away.
“Told you. I don’t lose,” Stacy mutters as I take my seat next to her on the couch .
“Play nice,” I murmur to her, brushing a soft kiss to the shell of her ear.
Her body stiffens in response but she says nothing as Gemma and Amy hop up again.
Pissed as I am at her for her attitude, the minimal physical contact sends goosebumps scattering across my skin.
I want to pull Stace into my lap, kiss her hard on the mouth, fuck the attitude right out of her, but I’ll have to settle for a tiny, innocent kiss on the ear.
For now.
Tashia’s up and she draws a card from the deck. She grins deviously and begins giving Evan hints.
Phrase or saying.
Three words .
She points at me.
Evan lifts a brow. “Reece?”
Tashia nods, holding an imaginary bat over her shoulder and swinging.
“Baseball? Reece playing baseball? What?”
Tashia sweeps her arms wide, covering the room before acting like she’s kicking a ball.
“Playing sports? Playing soccer? Oh!” Evan slaps his knee and points to Tashia excitedly. “Playing the field!”
“Yes,” Tashia squeals, flopping down onto the loveseat and throwing her arms around Evan’s neck.
Stacy turns to stone next to me, any sliver of remaining warmth completely snuffed out. The glare she’s shooting Evan and Tashia sends chills down my spine while Gemma and Amy shift uncomfortably in their spots.
“My turn,” Stacy announces, hopping up and turning to face the group.
My stomach sinks because whatever Stacy’s about to do, it’s going to be vindictive.
Stacy holds up one finger.
“You didn’t pick a card, Stace,” I tell her.
“I know.” She grins maniacally. “I know what I want to do.”
I swallow. “One word.”
Stacy nods and makes the film motion.
“Movie.”
She bobs her head and begins acting out a hug. My eyebrows are quirked as she goes on to cross her fingers behind her back. Then, she makes a motion of getting stabbed in the back, holding a hand to her heart with a pained expression.
We all stare as I gape and finally admit, “I have no idea what that is, Stace.”
Stacy snorts. “ Betrayal , of course. You know, that movie from the eighties? I think it’s based on a play. It’s about an affair between a woman and her husband’s brother.”
“That’s enough.” I rise from my seat as Tashia gawks at Stacy, Evan’s cheeks pink while Gemma and Amy titter quietly in the corner.
“I’m just playing the game,” Stacy insists, placing her hands on her hips and giving me a petulant look.
I scrub my hands down my face and suppress a groan. “We need to talk. Upstairs, Stace. Now.”
The humor dissipates from Stacy’s face as she juts her chin up and gives me a cold, curt nod. She whips around to head out of the living room and the rest of the group shoots me sympathetic glances like they know I’m about to have an uncomfortable conversation with my girlfriend.
They have no idea.