Chapter Thirty
This was all because of my phone. Of course.
I’d shared my location right after arriving: I actually remembered it clearly. The irony, now, that then I thought it was so important that Colin know where I was. All he had to do was click on a dot to find the Woods.
After work, I took my time heading there. His car was parked right in front, next to a white truck that said LAKE PARTY RENTALS.
“… literally a wave simulator! In the middle of the actual ocean,” I could hear him saying as I came up the steps. “So surreal.”
“They have everything on cruises these days,” Liz agreed. “You can see a Broadway show, get your hair done…”
“Eat your weight in shrimp,” Colin added.
“That’s the best part!”
Two guys came out, nodding as they passed me. As they climbed up the ramp of the truck, I slipped in the door.
“Are you sure I can’t help?” I heard Colin say now. “It feels weird to just be sitting here when I could be doing something.”
“Oh no,” Liz said. “Finley should be here soon. Lana says she’s on the way.”
“Lana?” Colin asked.
“She’s Finley’s bestie,” Liz explained. “They share the room here.”
“Oh,” he said. A beat. I wondered what he was thinking, hearing this. That I had people he knew nothing about. “Well. Can’t wait to meet her.”
The party rental guys were coming back in now. I took a breath, walking past the living room, where more chairs were stacked, waiting to be arranged. A white wooden arch leaned against one wall.
On the porch, Colin was at the table, his back to me. When Liz, sitting across from him, met my eyes, he immediately turned around. “There she is. Idaho!”
It was the weirdest feeling, seeing him there. He got up as I came closer, and I went into his arms easily. Too easily. I stepped back.
“Ma’am! You want these tables in here too?” a voice called from the living room. Liz got up, patting my shoulder, and left us alone.
“Colin,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood,” he replied. Then that grin.
“Just put the tables in here for now,” I heard Liz say. “Is that all of the chairs?”
“Everything we had.”
“Okay,” Liz said, in a way that made it clear it wasn’t.
“This wedding’s quite a production, huh?” Colin said to me.
“Hannah’s worried about you,” I told him. “Nalini, too.”
“Sounds like you might need more chairs,” he observed. “Maybe some people can stand?”
“I was just thinking that!” Liz called out from the living room. Of course she could hear us. “We don’t need everyone seated.”
“How long’s the ceremony?” Colin asked.
“Colin,” I said.
“Twenty-five minutes,” Liz replied. “If the minister doesn’t grandstand.”
“We’ll play him off, like an award show,” Colin told her, and she laughed.
We?
Just then, the door to Juvie opened and my mom came out. “Colin?” she said, clearly surprised. “I thought that was the guys bringing the rentals I was hearing.”
“I keep offering to help,” he said, getting up and giving her a hug. “Liz won’t let me.”
“Well, we don’t have enough chairs,” Liz herself told us as she came back in, wiping her forehead with one hand. “Maybe they have some cheap ones at Bly Supply?”
“How cheap?” my mom asked. “You don’t want them collapsing.”
“At this point I’ll take my chances.” Liz picked up her phone. “Let me text Clark and see who’s going today.”
“What’s Bly Supply?” Colin asked me.
“Like a Costco but locally owned,” I explained. All I could think of was toothpaste.
“I’ve got my car.” Colin nodded toward the porch. “Trunk’s bigger than it looks. Finley and I can go hunting for chairs.”
Just like that, we were a unit. Clearly, for him, wiping away our breakup, not to mention the time since, was that easy.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Liz said immediately. A beat. “Although you could maybe pick up some more drinks…”
“Sure.” He pulled out his phone. “Give me the details.”
“I’ll find the list.” She turned and began rummaging through a stack of papers on the table. “Where did I…”
My mom took hold of my elbow, steering me into Juvie. She shut the door behind us. “You didn’t mention Colin was coming.”
“Because I didn’t know.” She raised her eyebrows, taking a seat on the narrow bed. I plopped down beside her. “I think he’s having an identity crisis.”
“At eighteen?”
“He’s advanced,” I told her.
She laughed out loud, then put a hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”
“He dumped me. Shouldn’t I be the one acting out?”
“Not your style,” she said. “Thankfully.”
On the other side of the door, Liz was back on the phone. I wondered what Colin was doing.
“Look,” my mom said, “I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about the other night. I hope it wasn’t too much for you.”
“It wasn’t,” I replied. Then I added, “I’m glad to know all that stuff, to be honest.”
“You are?”
“I mean, some of it wasn’t the easiest to hear,” I admitted. She bit her lip. “But it’s better than wondering.”
Her face eased. She’d clearly been worried. “We can talk more. If you have other questions, or—”
“I’m sure I will,” I said. “But for now… it’s okay. We have time.”
It was true. And not just Her Time, that name I’d always called it, any longer. A shift in balance, more toward equal. I was glad to be there.
“That thing, about your dad and the waitress,” I said. “Have you thought about telling Kasey and Liz?”
“Oh God.” She sighed, then looked at me. “It would only make things worse. Plus the wedding. Not exactly the best time to slander the patriarch.”
“They know all the other stories, though,” I countered. “This one’s yours. Maybe they should hear it too.”
She considered this. Did not agree, I noticed. Still, it was progress.
We were quiet for a moment, both of us facing that screen door. Then I said, “I saw Jeremy this morning. When I was at work.”
“Jeremy?”
“He gave me this.” I pulled the card out of my pocket. “He’s hoping I’ll update him, so he knows how you’re doing after the surgery.”
“Really.” She took it, squinting at the print. “I was pretty short with him while we were stuck in that hole. Thought I’d scared him out of here.”
“Guess not,” I told her.
Outside, the truck started up. A beat later, it was rumbling away. Then I heard Liz on the phone. “Anne? Are you almost here? The chair people are just leaving. Some people are going to have to stand.”
“Do you have any benches?” Colin suggested.
“Benches! You’re a genius!” I heard Liz clap her hands, that excited. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
I sighed, closing my eyes. Beside me, my mom chuckled. “Ha ha,” I said. But it was kind of funny. In a pathetic way. Just like that, I was giggling. Then she started. The next thing I knew, we were both laughing.
The door sounded. “Hello?”
“It’s me,” said Lana.
“Hello!” Colin replied. Then, like it was his house, “Come on in.”
Beside me, my mom snorted. I was trying to catch my breath, unsuccessfully, as I tried to imagine all the ways the ensuing scene might go. Once, I might have just stayed there and just waited to see.
When I left, she was right behind me.
“That brings us to…” Liz consulted her legal pad. “Parking.”
“I thought we were doing boats so we didn’t have to deal with parking,” I said.
“Some guests are too frail for boats or golf carts,” Anne told me.
“How old are these people?”
Liz cleared her throat. “Moving on. What about the signage we talked about for the lawn?”
We’d been here like this for almost an hour, all of us around the table. There were the usual suspects: me, Lana, Kasey, Liz, and my mom. Plus two new faces: Travis, who had taken the afternoon off to do whatever Liz told him to and, of course, Colin. What could I say? I had tried.
After I left Juvie, we’d gone down to the dock to talk. The house was too crazy. Maybe with some distance I could catch my breath and think. In true form, though, he spoke first.
“Liz is awesome,” he said. “Can’t believe you never mentioned her.”
“I didn’t really know her before now,” I replied.
He looked out over the water glittering around us. A Friday afternoon of a holiday weekend. All sorts of planning had no doubt been in the works for months, and not just the wedding. And here I was, with absolutely no idea what I was doing.
“Hey,” I said as he sat down on the dock. “What’s going on with you?”
He didn’t answer at first, and I just studied his profile, as familiar as my own.
I’d spent so much time looking at him—usually adoringly, I had to admit—from this very vantage point.
I’d thought earlier how easy it was for him to fall back into our habits.
Now, though, I was acutely aware of the risk I’d do the same.
“Do you remember my speech?” he asked me finally. “At graduation?”
“Sure.” He’d worked on it for weeks, with me hearing several versions. “It was great.”
He smiled. “Yeah. Except for the panic attack I had right in the middle.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.” He reached up, scratching his neck, a nervous tic.
“Right around the line about forging ahead to the best of tomorrows. All of a sudden, I looked out across all those people—my family, teachers, even you. And I realized for all I’d accomplished, it was only a start. I have to do it all again now.”
“You were fine, though,” I said. I honestly could not remember any sign of anything other than his trademark confidence. “Everyone loved what you said.”
“I puked in the janitor’s closet,” he said. “After. My heart felt like it was going to break my chest. When I came out and found you with my family, I was sure you’d be able to tell.”
“I couldn’t.” Even now, I was unable to picture this. “I’m so sorry.”
“I didn’t want you to know. Or anyone. I thought it was just anxiety, graduation and all that. But on the cruise, it didn’t really go away. Then I met that girl Lucy.”
“The one I saw at Speculator,” I said, confirming.