5. Will
Chapter five
LAST YEAR
Will
I t seemed impossible, but she’d somehow grown more beautiful in four years.
Her hair shone a rich, decadent auburn under the bright lights of the auditorium, not the honey-brown I remembered. Her sophisticated long-sleeved black dress fit like a glove, the sleek material standing out in an ocean of rainbow-hued puffy coats and holiday sweaters. As she leaned out to say hello to a woman passing by in the aisle, her movements seemed different, more subdued.
I drank in the sight greedily. Of course, I should have expected she wouldn’t be in combat boots and heavy makeup like the night we’d spent together. Or flustered and rushing as she’d been that terrible day in the hotel lobby. This woman was polished and controlled. But as I watched her lips moving, unconsciously mouthing the words to the Christmas carols playing over the PA, I smiled. Definitely Mo.
No. Maureen .
My heart hammered into my throat. Even though I’d been ninety-nine percent sure she’d be here, I had no control over the way the reality of seeing her affected my body. I itched to go over there and explain myself. She might never forgive me, but I wanted to say my piece. Four years ago, Mo hadn’t stayed one nanosecond beyond Rosalyn cattily announcing our engagement. She’d also immediately blocked my texts, so I’d never been able to talk to her.
Not that I had anything magical to offer. No tidy explanation to excuse what I’d done. I’d once messaged her a cowardly “I’m sorry.” I owed her those words to her face. She might give me a knee to the groin—I’d never forget the way she handled that frat bro at the bar—but I deserved it.
Standing in the shadows near the back of the cavernous room gave me enough cover to stare somewhat blatantly. I watched as her lip sync turned into delicate chuckling at something Marley said. Even her laughter was elegant.
“Hey, man. Are you okay?” Leo came up on my left side. “You look kinda red.”
“I’m fine. Just hot in here after being so cold outside.”
Leo nodded but slipped a bottle of water into my hand anyway. He was a good guy, always had been.
Last week, I’d reconnected with my former best friend James at our ten-year high school reunion. Back in the day, I’d been tight with his family as well. When I’d run into James’s parents and his brother Leo in the parking lot half an hour ago, we’d all been pleasantly surprised. But it made sense they’d be here to support James on his big night.
“We’re still trying to hang in the back,” Leo said. “I don’t want the big guy to see us until after he does his thing. Don’t want to make him more nervous.”
I chuckled. James’s nerves were probably at critical mass over what he was about to do. I still couldn’t believe my old friend was planning such a public gesture.
Marley, a fellow teacher, had been James’s plus-one at the reunion. As he’d faced our bullies from a decade ago, he’d drawn heavily on her silent support. Unlike him, I’d had dealings with a few of our former classmates over the years, my role at Wallingford Capital occasionally bringing me into their orbit. But I hadn’t put a period on those high school days until James and I did so together last Saturday.
That night had gone so well I’d been shocked to learn he and Marley weren’t a bona fide couple. Tonight, James wanted to rectify that. He’d texted a few days ago asking me to make a sign on a posterboard giving a reason I thought he and Marley were a perfect match, and then send a picture of me holding it. Apparently, his plan was to collect as many of these pictures as possible from friends and family, and then assemble the images into a slideshow to prove to Marley they were meant to be together. He’d be debuting the slideshow this evening, at the Coleman Creek High School Holiday Talent Show, while he sung in front of the standing-room-only crowd.
I felt flattered he’d asked me to take part, considering up until last weekend, we hadn’t spoken in a decade. I’d left behind so much of my youth, especially after the accident, but I wanted to reclaim my friendship with James. Reflexively, I removed my right hand from my pocket and stretched out its three digits, using my opposite hand to massage the two stumps of my ring and pinky fingers.
The show began on a high note, with an older man doing an incredible rendition of “Snow.” There were dancers and singers. A shy-seeming blond boy absolutely killed it on the guitar.
I imagined James would be surprised to see me. And I wouldn’t have come, would have left it at sending the picture. That had been my plan, anyway.
Until I’d realized Marley’s sister was Mo.
I’d started to wonder at the reunion when James had introduced me to Marley. It wasn’t a rare name, but not super common either. And I’d never forgotten the name of Mo’s sister. I’d never forgotten any of the things she’d told me.
So many times over the past four years, I’d thought of that night. I’d held on fiercely to the memory of those stolen moments. Dreamed of them, woke with them, vividly imagined her voice, the way she smiled and tossed her hair over her shoulder. The way she laughed at my jokes and asked about my art. I’d imagined going further than I had when I’d touched her hand or pressed our foreheads together. Played the what-if game in my mind until I thought I’d go crazy.
I’d used my text conversations with James to line up all the information Mo had given me four years ago. The name of the small town where he’d moved to become a teacher, Coleman Creek. I found out Marley had cared for her mother until her death just over a year ago. James and Marley had had lunch recently with Marley’s older sister, who lived in Seattle and worked in fashion.
That last one seemed definitive, other than Marley’s sister was named Maureen. I realized she must have given me a different name at the club, I assumed for safety reasons, since James and Marley never hinted she had a nickname. More proof that night had been surreal. Just like I wasn’t Billy. Or William. I’d circled back to Will. Except Will with less darkness riding him than he’d had in high school. I hoped.
Finally, it was James’s turn. The slideshow ran. He performed a horribly off-key rendering of Kelly Clarkson’s “Underneath the Tree.” And in the end, hundreds of pairs of eyes teared up as he and Marley embraced.
It was a happy ending for my oldest friend. I didn’t expect my own, obviously. The Christmas miracle had already happened—the insane coincidence of James’s Marley being Mo’s Marley. I just wanted to talk to her. Even if she hated me afterward.
As the auditorium cleared, I followed Leo and James’s parents over toward the happy couple. Marley’s sisters stood on the other side of her, with their backs to us, talking to a woman with a baby in each arm. I kept my gaze low, wanting to give Mo a chance to notice me before I attempted to speak to her. We drew closer, my pulse kicking into high gear.
The presence of both his family and me stunned James. He’d been grateful we’d sent the pictures but hadn’t expected us to make the trip. I told him the partial truth, that I’d come because I admired what he was doing and didn’t have other plans.
“What if Marley had turned me down?”
His ridiculous question helped calm my nerves. “Dude, I saw you two at our reunion. The way she showed up for you. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”
He smiled. I gave Marley a quick, congratulatory hug as James’s parents and brother started asking them about some of the student performers. Taking a few steps into the aisle, I drifted away from their conversation as my racing heart reminded me of my purpose. As much as I’d enjoyed reconnecting with my friend this past week, I hadn’t driven three hundred miles to hide behind him and make small talk.
My heartbeat moved from my throat to become a pounding orchestra in my head. Mo stood only feet away.
Keeping my eyes downcast, I took a fortifying breath and ran my palms over my thighs a few times before stuffing them in my pockets. Yet even as nerves threatened to consume me, it was almost a relief to feel this flustered. It had been a while since I’d felt much of anything.
I lifted my gaze as Mo turned in my direction.
A brief flinch was the only immediate evidence of her surprise. Cool green eyes met mine, the pupils dilated to black pools. She gripped a large purse in front of herself, knuckles whitening. Her jaw twitched beneath slightly flared nostrils as she attempted to maintain a neutral face. For the most part, she succeeded—except as the seconds passed, she couldn’t stop those stormy, searching eyes from narrowing.
Good. I’d been thinking she might pretend not to recognize me. I squared my shoulders and schooled my breathing, about to initiate conversation, when a sandy-haired ball of energy popped up in front of me, arm outstretched. “You’re Will, right? James’s friend from high school? I’m Miranda, Marley’s sister.” Her infectious smile broke through the tension in the air, and I found myself unwittingly charmed. But Mo looked concerned, glancing down as I removed my right hand from my pocket. Well, that answered that question. I’d always wondered if she’d noticed that night.
She needn’t have worried. Over the years, I’d improved at managing both daily tasks and the rude stares or questions that occasionally came my way. I shook Miranda’s hand and waited. There was a momentary pinch in her expression when I knew she registered my missing fingers. But it disappeared as quickly as it came.
“Yes, I’m Will. Great to meet you.”
“Cool, cool.” She bounced up on her heels and took her hand back, clapping it together with her other one. “Well, I really liked your slide. We heard a bit about you on the way here because Marley was telling us about going to James’s reunion—”
“That’s true,” Mo piped in. “She was telling us all about James’s friend, Will .” Her eyes narrowed at me again, and I imagined it was only because Miranda was made of cupcakes and sunshine that she didn’t pick up on the animosity in her sister’s voice.
“Oh, sorry,” Miranda said. “This is my other sister, Maureen.”
Mo—I really needed to think of her as Maureen—stuck her arm out. “Nice to meet you.” Ah, so she wasn’t pretending not to know me, but we would play that game for other people.
I stared down and realized I was about to touch her for the first time in four years. I reached out with my injured hand. In my dreams, my hand was always whole. And her palm wasn’t icy cold. In my dreams, when she pumped her arm up and down a few times, her eyes didn’t bore into me like I disgusted her.
“Nice to meet you as well.”
There was a reception happening in the room across from the auditorium. Most of the audience had made their way over there already, and James, Marley, and his family headed in that direction.
“We should catch up with them,” Maureen said to her sister, grabbing Miranda’s hand and moving to follow the crowd to the doorway. Away from me.
Miranda looked over her shoulder at me. “You’re coming, right?”
The two of them turned toward the exit. Damn, was that it? Four years later and all I’d gotten was a glare, a handshake, and a dismissal. I wasn’t entirely sure what I’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that. I’d thought there’d at least be some questions, loud words maybe—not one minute of introductions and bye.
Should I follow? Try to confront her? That’s what I’d come here for. But dammit. If she didn’t want that, did I really have the right to push? If she wanted to ignore me or pretend I didn’t exist, didn’t I owe it to her to let her? Shit. I really wanted the chance to explain.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
MO: Still your number?
My head whipped up to look at her across the auditorium. She still didn’t glance my way but had moved away from her sisters, standing tall and collected with her phone in hand.
ME: Yes
I watched the three dots bouncing for a minute before her next message appeared. I took that time to change the name in my contacts.
MAUREEN: I need to make an appearance at the reception. You should too. Find a reason to slip away after fifteen minutes. I’ll do the same and meet you at your car. I’m assuming you’re in the parking lot here.
ME: Yeah. I drove.
MAUREEN: What am I looking for? A rental?
ME: Still driving the same black Audi.
MAUREEN: Of course you are.