Chapter 18 Lucy #3
“Like a detective?” Sadie’s eyes widen.
“Exactly.”
“All right, let’s get you two out of the foyer.
” Quinn walks us over to the patio with a white jumping castle filled with yellow balls on one side and a cotton candy and ice-cream making station on the other.
Sadie goes straight for the jumping castle.
“Make yourselves comfortable. I’m going to grab some lemonade. ”
“Thanks, Quinn,” Marsh says and then turns to me when she’s out of sight. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” I say truthfully. “You?”
Marsh gives me a quick but reassuring kiss on the top of my head as we grab seats on the patio. A man who looks very similar in build to Marsh, except he has a beard and a tattoo sleeve on one arm, walks through the doors.
“Hey, guys!” Oliver says.
“Hey, Ollie, this is Lucy.” Marsh gestures to me.
“Lucy!” Oliver comes over and gives me the biggest bear hug. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for coming all the way here.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure.” I wave a hand. “Thank you for letting me be a part of this day.”
“Are you kidding? I just wish we were meeting over a nice dinner in the city instead of here where twenty kids are going to be screaming their lungs out.”
“This is great,” I say, laughing, “and your home is gorgeous. Quinn was saying how the two of you designed it?”
“Yeah.” He squeezes the back of his neck. “It turned out okay.”
“Stop trying to be modest,” Marsh says. “It doesn’t look good on you.”
“All right.” Oliver puts both of his hands up. “I love my house and I’m damn proud of it.”
“There you go.” I start clapping, and Oliver and Marsh laugh.
“So, Lucy, are you from California?”
“Yeah, born and raised about an hour north of LA,” I say as Quinn comes over with a pitcher of lemonade and four glasses.
“Nice,” Oliver says. “And you write for The Rue, right?”
“I do, yeah.”
“I love The Rue.” Quinn takes a seat next to Oliver, and Marsh starts pouring us all glasses of lemonade. “That’s so cool.”
“Not as cool as being architects.” I take a sip and the citrusy sweet and sour tang tastes perfect. “Also, Marsh told me the two of you met as kids?”
“Yeah.” Oliver’s gaze lands on Quinn. “We went to the same middle school.”
“We also lived on the same street,” Quinn adds. “I used to come over to their house, and we’d play video games and basketball in the driveway.”
“Oh my god.” I smile. “So Marsh wasn’t kidding when he said you were all childhood friends.”
“People don’t believe us when we say we’ve been together since we were like fifteen,” Quinn says.
“And you’ve been together the whole time? No breaks?” I ask.
“Nope.” Oliver pulls Quinn close and gives her a kiss on the top of her head. “Crazy, right?”
There’s something so effortless about the two of them, it makes me wonder if it is possible to have what they do.
“Looks like the party has already started,” a voice from behind me says, and I turn to see Marsh and Oliver’s mom. There’s a poise to her and an almost regal energy. Charlotte’s tall, just like her boys, with a beautiful bob of white hair and a crisp beige jumpsuit.
“Hey, Mom.” Marsh stands up and gives her a hug. “You look great.”
“You too.” She kisses his cheek.
“Mom, I want you to meet Lucy.” Marsh looks at me, and I stand up to greet her.
“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you,” I say.
“Oh, Lucy, look at you. You are beautiful, aren’t you?” She hugs me and then her eyes land on Marsh. If I wasn’t looking, I wouldn’t have caught it, but there’s something that was exchanged through that look…I just have no idea what.
For the next forty minutes, the five of us talk about work, how Marsh and I met, and Charlotte’s jewelry line, and Sadie gives us a presentation of her drawings from school.
I almost forget that we’re here for a birthday party until the first guests arrive, then the next, until the backyard is filled with almost twenty kids.
When most of the adults are occupied in conversation, Marsh puts his hand on the small of my back.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
Driving from LA to the Bay Area isn’t the easiest, and I should be exhausted, but for some reason I’m the complete opposite. I’m enjoying getting to know Marsh’s family. It’s effortless and fun and I like learning about where Marsh came from.
“I’m great.” I look up at him. “What about you?”
“Want me to give you a tour?” he asks.
“Really?” I say. I’m not going to pretend like I haven’t been curious.
“Yeah, let’s do it.” Marsh takes my hand, and we walk through the house and into one of the very wide hallways.
When we turn the corner, I see a woman. A woman who looks like we just told her to put up her hands and go up against the wall.
It doesn’t take a genius to guess who this woman is.
“Julia…” Marsh says.
“Marsh,” Julia says. “Hi.”
This is Julia. I process. Julia, who stands at a perfect five-foot-ten, has chestnut brown hair and big blue eyes, and whose skin is like porcelain.
Julia, who’s an elementary school teacher and who’s still on good enough terms with the Oakleys that she feels comfortable being here.
Julia, who spent the last nine and a half years getting to see the most vulnerable, private parts of Marsh.
Julia, who still has some kind of effect on Marsh because he looks like the wind is knocked out of him.
“Hi,” Marsh says.
“How are yo—” Julia and I make eye contact over Marsh’s shoulder and she stops. “Oh, hi…”
Well, this is awkward.
“Uh, yeah, Jules, this is Lucy.” Marsh turns to me. I step closer so I don’t feel like I’m someone at the zoo witnessing two animals. The nickname Jules doesn’t go unnoticed, but I don’t think twice about it. “Lucy, this is Julia.”
“Hi,” I say. She’s even prettier up close. Not a damn pore on her face. She’s also a good seven inches taller than me. I feel like I’m sandwiched between two giants.
She smiles and then awkwardly looks at Marsh. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Marsh says. “Sadie’s my niece.”
“Yeah, um”—Julia quickly looks at me and then back at Marsh—“I was wondering if we could chat for a second?”
“What’s up?” Marsh says.
Julia’s eyes cut to me again and then back to Marsh. “Oh, I meant…” She gestures to literally anywhere I’m not standing. She means in private. Like without the woman who she’s known for seventeen seconds watching them.
“I can step outside,” I say.
“That’s not necessary,” Marsh replies firmly.
I can tell by the fake smile plastered on her face that she’s highly uncomfortable with having this conversation in front of me.
“Marsh.” Julia gives him a look that transcends his name. It’s a look you give someone who knows you like the back of their hand. She’s telling him something else with her eyes that naturally he can understand. That’s what almost a decade together does. “Please.”
Marsh sighs and then looks at me. “I’ll be a few minutes. I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be.” I squeeze his elbow. Maybe I can’t telecommunicate to him the way Julia can, but I’m hoping he knows that this is okay. “Take your time.”
He gives my hand a squeeze, and the two of them step into the closest room. It’s then I realize I was holding my breath.
This whole time I was worried how hard seeing Julia would be on Marsh; I didn’t think it would have an effect on me.