Chapter Fifteen
Fifteen
I tried to change the subject to anything other than Marin Haggerty, but Dominic didn’t have a lot of other interests. I got him to talk about TV shows for about fifteen minutes, but when I could tell he was getting antsy—too fixated on his new Marin theory—I turned up the radio.
He shot me a look. Maybe it was a little aggressive. Possibly rude. “I love this song,” I yelled, hoping he had no follow-up questions about the title or the artist.
He politely waited until it finished before reaching over to turn down the volume. “What are you doing tonight? Want to come to dinner?”
“Come to dinner or go to dinner?” I asked. “Come to dinner sounds like an event.”
“My stepsister, Megan, is in town for the night.”
“Another stepsibling? No wonder you have attachment issues,” I teased.
“Everyone has a date. Not that I’m saying it’s a date…I just…I’m not used to having to go to these things alone. Do you want to come or not?”
“Well, when you put it like that…Who is everyone?”
“Megan and her husband, Leo, and Jake and Elyse. That’s it.”
“What about Kevin?” I still hadn’t met Kevin. It felt like a blind spot.
“No, Kevin’s out of town. They aren’t that close anyway. Not a lot of overlap there.”
“This is very confusing.”
“I know. Think of it like The Brady Bunch if The Brady Bunch recast most of the people every season. Megan was season two; Kevin was season five. My mom and I are the only ones in every season.”
“That helps, actually.”
“I know, I use it a lot. So is that a yes?”
“Fine.” I wanted to see Elyse in a social setting outside those parties. I wanted to see all of them, actually. For research.
- - - - -
Megan was older than our collective age range of mid-twenties to early thirties. She must have been a teenager when Dominic was a little boy. How they all preserved these temporary familial relationships over time was mind-boggling to someone like me.
Megan stood to give me a hug as we approached the table.
Leo was more reserved, significantly shorter than his wife, which I noticed when he stood to shake my hand.
Before we could take our seats, Jake and Elyse arrived and then we all did lots of hugging, everyone standing and scooting around in the tight space to get their arms around one another.
For a beat I thought Megan was going to go for a second one, so I dipped into a chair.
I took the middle seat on the wall side.
Megan landed across from me for a long night of eye contact, and Leo sat to her left.
I assumed Dominic would sit to my right, leaving the two seats on my left for Jake and Elyse, but when Elyse slid into the chair to my right first, it prompted a hushed but audible “Seriously?” from Jake.
Dominic took the seat to my left and Jake settled for the last seat to the right of Megan and the farthest point from his girlfriend.
“Let the siblings catch up,” Elyse explained, looking for me to agree, so I nodded. I wasn’t complaining.
There was a lot of standard group dinner talk.
No one pulled out a knife to see how long someone could tolerate pain, so that was good.
Smaller conversations broke out, the siblings talking about things the rest of us couldn’t relate to, Leo sharing the issues they were having back home with their roof, Dominic checking in on me to make sure I was okay.
Lots of talking and no chance for coded doublespeak with Elyse.
“So, Gwen, where are you from?” Megan asked out of nowhere, elbows on the table, chin resting in her hands.
It was a pretty standard question, but I went into a little panic.
I honestly couldn’t remember what I had told Dominic.
Or Elyse. Had I told both of them I was from somewhere?
I always told people I was from Pennsylvania, but that was with strangers and first dates, where Pennsylvania meant nothing.
I wouldn’t have told these two that, one actively trying to find out what happened to Marin Haggerty and the other possibly already knowing.
See, this was why I didn’t do things like this. It was too risky.
“All over New England, moved a lot,” I said.
Elyse shot me a look. Clearly I had spun a different story to her. Maybe I did tell her Pennsylvania. So close, but so far from being New England. Panic geography.
“Military family?” Megan pressed.
“No.”
Dominic read my curt response perfectly and sat up in his chair. “Can you believe she lived all over New England and her dad never married Barbara?”
That elicited a laugh from the whole table. Barbara, his mother, the serial monogamist. It registered to me as a little off that Dominic referred to his mother as Barbara. It was as if he had adapted to being just another one of her stepchildren.
One person wasn’t laughing. Elyse reached under the table and touched my thigh with her pinkie.
I glanced down to where she was making contact and then rotated my head to look at her.
She was making a subtle You okay? face and I was confused at first until I realized I had told her my parents died in a fire.
Ugh, and in Pennsylvania, I now remembered.
She was wondering if a joke about my dead dad marrying Dominic’s mom had upset me.
I smiled and tapped her pinkie with my own, a sort of dismissal, and she took her hand back.
“How is Barbara?” Megan asked Dominic.
“She’s holding on,” he said. I waited for it and…his hand went to his hair, jerking it around, 1-2-3. “We’ve got her settled into the house and the doctor has her on a new pain plan.”
Apparently his mother was quite ill. I would have to ask him about that later.
Or maybe not. Maybe it was one of those things he would share with me when he was ready.
It explained his fascination with “transcending” death and I wondered if his half a semester in behavioral psychology was enough for him to realize that.
Megan reached across the table for his hand, the age difference giving her an unavoidable mothering quality. “She’s comfortable though?” I was sure Megan would keep framing questions until she considered the answer to be a positive one.
“I think so,” he said.
She gave his hand a little squeeze before pulling away.
Ugh, Megan, stop humanizing all these people.
Is it you? Were there any murderer vibes under that purported softness?
Leo might have a few dead bodies in his basement, but probably not the ones I was looking for.
So many new people were popping up in my life, and with every single one I had the same suspicions toward the timing of it all.
I didn’t stop to consider that I was the one driving all these interactions.
The table had fallen silent. Megan had killed the mood by bringing up poor Barbara’s health.
I took an exaggerated sip of my drink. Dominic scraped at his plate.
Leo refolded his napkin in his lap. I saw Jake look past me to Elyse.
I turned to see her giving him instructions with her face that I couldn’t interpret, but he got the message.
“Megan,” Jake added a voice to the silence. “How was Key West?”
That was enough to get her going again and everyone properly reset. Were all families like this?
- - - - -
It was one of those meals that just kept going. I had heard my phone vibrate in my coat pocket behind me several times but didn’t want to be rude. When dessert was cleared and Megan ordered coffees, I couldn’t take it anymore and excused myself to the bathroom, taking my phone with me.
It was Porter. Six missed calls, even more texts.
I sealed myself into a stall and sat on the toilet. The call rang twice before I heard it click.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I asked when he didn’t say anything.
There was heavy breathing on the other end. “My dad kicked me out.”
“What are you talking about?” I whispered.
“Gwen…”
“Breathe.”
“He thinks I tried to kill the fucking cat.”
“Why?”
“I got home last night out of my mind. My sister’s stupid cat followed me into the bathroom, and the next thing I knew, it was attacking me.
I couldn’t get it off, so I shoved it into the toilet.
My sister woke up and freaked out. Told my dad I was trying to drown it…
. No one believed me. Gwen, it was bad.”
“Jesus,” I exhaled, struggling to visualize what happened without defaulting to Tom and Jerry.
“I’m going to move in with the guys for a little while.”
“No way,” I said. “I don’t think they’re a good look for you.”
“There aren’t exactly options falling out of my ass,” Porter said, his breath shorter, and I could tell he was on the move.
“You can stay with me tonight, okay?”
“Really?”
I squished my eyes closed. Was I really offering that? It was the least I could do. “I’m downtown, but I’m leaving right now.” I opened my eyes and exhaled. “Meet me at my place.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” I said, and he hung up.
I stood so I could lower my pants to actually pee. I rested my phone on top of the toilet paper dispenser, but before I let go, it buzzed again. I flipped it over to see the screen. It was Brian. Ha. That guy. I had fallen very far from the Brians of the world. I rejected the call. Sorry, Brian.
- - - - -
Porter beat me home and was sitting on my front steps, hands clenched around the straps of his backpack. His head was shaved, his bleach-blond hair gone. He was shaky and jumped up as soon as he saw my car.
“Nice haircut,” I said, walking toward him.
He didn’t say anything at first, which was extremely out of character. There were scratches all over his arms, presumably from the cat, and he rocked back and forth.
“Are you on something?” I asked, continuing past him to open the front door, which I was still somehow surprised to see wasn’t closed all the way.
“No.” He shook his head. “This is an organic reaction to being totally fucked.” He followed me inside like a lost little puppy.
“Second floor,” I said so that he could keep going while I fixed the carpet. I couldn’t handle his jittering next to me.
He stomped up the stairs while I forced the runner down with my foot.
“Whoa!” he exclaimed from the top of the stairs, his exaggerated steps halting. “What the fuck is this?”