43. Linger
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
linger
LOGAN
REYNOLDS VINEYARD
PRESENT DAY
I have to admit, for as much of a shitbag as Abi’s ex is, the vineyard he lucked into is pretty fucking cool. The main house is a large blue and white colonial, sitting right next to another brick building with stained glass windows and rustic hand-carved doors. At least, that’s what the website says. I’m not particularly interested in the tour, so I’ll have to take their word for it.
The sun hangs low in the sky, with servers bustling around removing empty glasses and refilling drinks; what would a winery be without plenty of alcohol? When we arrived, we were each given a glass of sparkling wine with a little bow tied on the stem. Abi rolled her eyes, but I think it was kind of a nice touch. I’d never say it out loud, though, because she’s clearly in a mood and I’d rather keep my sex privileges.
I scoff into my glass, making a show of how little I care for the drink.
“Man, this stuff is shit. Looks like they can’t even throw a good party.”
“It’s not,” she sighs. “It’s actually pretty good… and the vineyard is really beautiful this time of year. Fuck! I was hoping he’d end up a loser who plays video games in his mom’s basement, and now I have to look at all of this?”
She’s gesturing to… well, everything: starting with the swaths of her classmates all looking content, mired in conversation within the near-endless field of vines and grapes stretching off in front of us. My job here is to be supportive, but my secret mission is to keep Abi calm, and make sure she doesn’t drink too much and end up saying something she’ll regret. She’s still shaken from the interview, and throwing her ex-fiancé into the mix isn’t going to help with that at all.
“How about we go and find Kat and Marcus, and maybe grab a hot dog or something?”
“I’m fine here,” she mumbles. “I don’t know if I want to find another even more beautiful sight around the corner.”
We’ve been milling around close to the front gate for something like 10 minutes, and Abi’s body’s been coiled like a spring the entire time. I’m afraid her mood is going to continue to dip over the course of the night, and while staying here would probably keep her far away from Brendan, I don’t want her to be miserable.
I draw in a breath, wrapping my arm around her waist, but she barely moves. She’s so tense, I swear she could be made of stone.
“Hey, we don’t have to do this. Do you want to just?—”
She turns to me, eyes blazing.
“What, just leave? Then what was the point? This entire trip would be for nothing!”
The words hit a lot harder than I expected. Nothing about the trip has felt meaningless, not meeting her mom, her friends, and obviously not waking up next to her every morning.
“I don’t know, I felt like things were pretty… great, at least up until now.”
“I didn’t mean it like—” She takes a deep breath, gazing up at me. “I’m sorry, I’m not in a great headspace. I just meant the story we came up with, and the reason why we’re here, I?—”
I pull her toward me, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
“It’s okay. I get it.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, burying her face in my chest. “I’m so sorry, Logan.”
It feels like she’s apologizing for something deeper, like she’s already preparing herself for our worst case scenario.
“Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay.”
What Abi and I have is fragile, but more than that, it has an expiry date. And she’s right, it’s something that only happened because it was a convenient way to get her some closure, but it’s hard to ignore the strong foundation we built our little lie on top of.
“Come on,” I urge, trying my best to get her out of her funk. “Let’s grab something to eat.”
“Logan, I’m just— I’m not hungry right now. You can go, I don’t?—”
“Okay, great! You can come watch me eat. You know, I’ve been told I’m a very elegant eater.”
She chuckles as I link my fingers with hers, and begrudgingly lets me lead her toward the gigantic row of tables. I grab a plate and start to fill it up while Abi glances around, nervously sipping her wine. Just as I’m stacking the third slider onto my plate, I can see her face pale. It kind of looks like that scene in Jurassic Park where the little girl sees the raptors while she’s eating Jello.
I could go for some Jello right now.
“You okay?” I ask.
Abi doesn’t have time to answer before a razor sharp voice slices through the chatter.
“Abigail?”
Abigail?
I glance over in the direction of the voice, spotting a woman with long strawberry blonde hair striding toward us. She has a baby balanced on her hip, and a big saccharine smile that looks like it was plastered on her face early this morning, one that’s started to sag just the tiniest bit.
Carly Reynolds.
“Abigail, it is you! Hiiii!” She extends the last vowel like it’s the finale of a brand new hit single as she approaches. “I didn’t think you’d make it!”
Abi looks visibly shaken, but Carly just flashes her another sugary smile, bouncing her son on her hip. He’s cute, chubby cheeks, button nose, and big brown eyes.
Right, with him in the picture I guess it’s Carly Howard now.
Instinctively, I grasp Abi by the waist, pulling her toward me in what’s probably a little too protective of a gesture, but I’ve never really seen her speechless like this before.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t sure?—”
“I just thought, you know, with your and Brendan’s history, and with you all the way out in Seattle, not to mention your very prestigious job, that you would be…” She shrugs. “Busier.”
I eye the champagne flute that’s clutched in Abi’s hand, wondering if I should take it. It’s a shockingly easy thing to snap one in half, and then she’d have a weapon. God, what a ridiculous thought; I think I just watch too many horror movies.
But then again…
“I get the summers off,” Abi manages to grind out through gritted teeth.
“Oh, lucky!” Carly gushes. “It must be so nice to have all that free time!”
You know what? I came here ready to give pretty much everyone a fair shake, but all it took was 30 seconds and I already hate this woman. The crazy part is that I don’t really hate anyone; I’m a pretty friendly guy. I always try to see the best in people, even people I fundamentally disagree with. But there’s just something about the way she’s looking at Abi, an undercurrent of poison flowing beneath friendly gestures, that really pisses me off.
“It is nice, yeah.” Abi mutters. “Thanks for inviting us.”
Carly shifts her attention to me, like she was waiting for the perfect opportunity to do her little introductory schtick and blow me away.
“Carly Reynolds— Oop! I guess it’s Howard! ” She laughs. “Sorry, I'm still getting used to that.”
She’s just flaunting it at this point.
“Dr. Logan Flynn,” I reply, shaking her hand as pleasantly as I can manage. “And didn’t you get married two years ago? Long time to get tripped up on a name.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, I couldn’t help but snoop through your profile,” I chuckle, giving her an equally saccharine smile right back. “I’m a researcher! Tough habit to break.”
Carly’s Stepford-Wife expression falters ever-so-slightly, and for the briefest of moments I feel like she’s considering taking my head off. Is she worried we’re going to reveal how sordid the beginning of their relationship was? Did she not think plastering her entire life on social media would unravel her dirty little secret? No, that can’t be it. I think she’s just surprised that someone is actually standing up to her for once.
“Actually, I only recently changed my name,” Carly replies, her gaze turning icy. “I thought I’d keep my own for a long time, but you know what they say: Love finds a way!”
“Of course!” I grin, completely unfazed. “I couldn’t agree more!”
Abi looks like she wants to die as an awkward silence falls over the three of us, Carly obviously unprepared for the more competitive dynamic. It’s like she wants one of us to back down first, but I stand firm, my smile never faltering even for a moment, until finally she clears her throat.
“Well, it was nice to see you again, Abigail.” She flashes me another smile. “And it was lovely to meet you, Larry.”
She turns on a toe and heads back toward the house in a hurry, but I make sure to give her a big wave as she goes.
“It was nice to meet you, too, Clarice! Thanks for the wine!”
I half-expect Abi to chew me out, or snap at me for making things more awkward with Carly, but instead I just feel her carefully wind an arm around my waist.
“Thanks for stepping in.” She sighs. “For some reason I didn’t expect her to actually talk to me. Caught me completely off guard.”
I grin.
“Yeah, well, nobody messes with my girl.”