17. Dolly
17
DOLLY
No one ever talks about what the cat that ate the canary felt like. We all know what he looks like—guilty as fuck. But what did he feel like? Because I’m pretty sure right now I feel like that cat.
And damn it, do I want to talk about it? Fuck, yes. I would like to tell everyone just how good that damn canary tastes. Like firewood and smoke, wintergreen, all the mysteries of the universe, and the key to unlocking them at the same time.
Except I was the one who suggested we keep it to ourselves. Which means I shouldn’t.
Alice eyes me suspiciously from the other side of the table she, Rose, Emily, and I are currently seated around at Ming Garden waiting on Margeaux to arrive. The escape from Hickory Hills for girls’ night is freeing. A likely contributing factor to my burning desire to spill like an overturned oil tanker.
“You have one more?” Mrs. Ngo, the longtime owner of Ming Garden asks us in her heavily accented English, pointing to the empty chair. We all nod, not bothering to explain to her that Margeaux got delayed due to a “debrief session”—which we all know is code for her and Gus sneaking in a quickie in his office. “Okay, I bring tea.”
She shuffles off before any of us can object. We have never—in all the years we’ve been coming here—drank the tea she brings us. In fact, calling it tea is generous. It’s really more slightly discolored bitter water. Because while she and her sisters are unrivaled in the kitchen, and make the best pot stickers and chow mein in the state, the tea leaves a lot to be desired.
“I just feel so bad,” Rose says, her normal bubbly persona mellowed at the moment. “Cary said that they haven’t had a freeze this bad since the fifties, and we’re going to be lucky to get any peaches this summer.”
At all? Yikes. Hux said it was bad, but I hadn’t realized it was that bad. As chief horticulturist for Hayes, Rose’s older brother, Cary, would know. He, Anton, and Hux have been working to do whatever they can to save the trees and the fruit, thanks to the freak cold snap we got while we were at the beach.
The one Hux and I missed altogether since we were too busy staying inside. With each other.
I need to tell them. I can’t keep this to myself. Right?
“Not just Hayes. Like the whole state,” she continues.
“That’s not good,” Alice replies.
They deserve to know, I reason. These three are my best friends and have been by my side longer than anyone. Even Hux. So what if I said we were keeping this to ourselves. I did say they’d probably figure something was up. By telling them I’m simply helping that eventuality along.
“Is there anything they can do?” Emily asks.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rose shrug. “Only time will really tell. Cary said?—”
“I slept with Hux.”
Crash!
The words tumble out of me like a barrel over Niagara Falls, hurtling over the edge, speeding toward the splash below, accompanied by the clang of porcelain and silverware bouncing off each other before hitting the floor.
All four of us freeze, looking up to find a startled, unmoving Mrs. Ngo, her hands still midair from where she had been holding the tray of tea and cups. Before she happened upon my word-vomited confession.
Well, shit. Didn’t mean for that to happen. Well done, Dolly. Way to scare the shit out of the nice restaurant owner with your potentially questionable romantic behavior.
Still in shock, Mrs. Ngo slowly starts to back away. “I send someone to clean up.”
We might not be welcome back here…
A young bus boy appears out of nowhere with a dustpan and broom, our entire table still sitting silently as he makes quick work of the cleanup. No doubt because he was told to get in and out as fast as he could and not to listen to our conversation.
“Once more, please,” Alice says, turning her attention back to me as soon as the teenager is done. She’s looking at me as if my statement has been uttered in Spanglish—a few words she understood mixed in with a bunch she didn’t. And there were only four of them.
I swallow hard, feeling all their eyes on me. This was much easier when they weren’t so intently focused in on what I was about to say.
“I slept with Hux.”
There. I said it. Twice.
A weight lifts off of me, the physical relief of being able to share more pronounced than I thought it would be. In fact, I’m halfway giddy. Because all I want to do is talk about it. Like I’m fourteen all over again and finally kissed a boy.
“Like, for real?” Emily questions.
What?
“No, for fake, Em,” I sass.
“I mean, like…” She holds up her hands, making a circle with her forefinger and thumb with her left and sticking her right pointer finger through it. Same as we did when we were tweens and were embarrassed by the word sex.
I roll my eyes, trying to hold in my laughter. “Yeah, just like that.”
“Squeeeeee! OMG!” Rose grabs my hands as she squeals, her melancholy on behalf of her brother now forgotten. “Was it amazing? It was amazing, wasn’t it? Hux Hayes knows what he’s doing, I know it. Tell us everything !”
My cheeks instantly heat, and I look away. Yeah, Hux knows what he’s doing. That’s an understatement if there ever was one. Still, there are some conversations that just aren’t meant for public spaces. And this is quickly entering that territory. Hell, we might already be there if Mrs. Ngo’s reaction was anything to go by.
“Wait.” Alice holds up her hands. “How?”
“Ummm…” Emily repeats her hand motions, giving Alice a look that says, “Duh! We just covered this.”
Alice brushes her off, ignoring the borderline obnoxious gesture. “Not what I mean…this doesn’t…holy cow, the lunch specials,” she comments, half under her breath, like a detective on a cop show who just found the missing puzzle piece. “I knew there was something up.”
“Huh?”
Now she’s lost me.
“You’ve been home from the beach a little over a week.And you’ve made a different lunch special pretty much every day.Today’s lunch special was meatloaf. Meatloaf. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you make meatloaf—it’s not even on Dolly’s menu.” She looks at me squarely, shaking her head, her smile giving away her excitement. “But do you know who loves meatloaf?”
Hux…
“Hux.” She says his name so pointedly it almost sounds like it’s the answer to the million-dollar question on a game show.
My cheeks heat even more. Busted. Sort of.
“Actually, that’s only partly true. I’m also revamping Dolly’s menu,” I announce.
I perk up, another wave of excitement hitting me. This project has been a long time coming, and it feels good to have it finally be a reality.
“Sorry I’m late, y’all! It was a day and a half…” Margeaux says, her excuse locked and loaded. Not that we’re buying it, the love bite on her neck giving her away. “What’d I miss?”
“I told them about the menu revamp,” I reply, burying the lede.
“How exciting!”
Margeaux’s reaction is truly impressive. To the point where I almost think it’s a shame she isn’t a defense lawyer, because I’d be willing to share any secret with her and let her lie on my behalf in court.
Because she knows. And I know she knows, because she and Gus came home to the house he shares with Hux and Jace to find the two of us mid make out while I cooked dinner for the group. There was no hiding it from either of them after that. Not that I thought there would be any hiding it from the Hayes boys to begin with—or Margeaux or Brenna. Gus and Milo weren’t about to keep secrets from their partners.
“You knew?” Alice whisper-shouts. Turning to me, mouth agape, she looks borderline hurt. “You told Margeaux but not us?”
“In her defense, she didn’t so much tell me as it was…err…discovered…” Margeaux answers, choosing her words carefully.
“OMG, did y’all break another couch?” Rose asks.
“First off, I was not the one he broke the first couch with.” I swallow hard, not wanting to think about whatever bar bimbo that actually was. “Second?—”
“She was on the counter,” Margeaux teases.
“Dolly was on the menu,” Emily quips.
“We were kissing!” I hiss, swatting at her. Emily dodges out of the way, her giggles filling the air.
I stop abruptly, Mrs. Ngo appearing behind Alice, a plate of pot stickers in one hand and rangoon in the other. Giving me a stern look, she slides them on the table, then huffs out a breath through her nose. I’m more than a little surprised not to see smoke come out.
“When you ready to order, call for Susan.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She spins on her heels, Emily barely containing her laughter at the small woman’s indignance. Margeaux looks between us, silently asking what that was all about.
“She doesn’t approve of our dinner conversation,” Em explains. “Or at least Dolly declaring that she had her first orgasm in six years as she’s about to deliver our tea.”
“That’s not what I said!”
“You didn’t have to; we can see it on your face.”
“I’ve had an orgasm in the last six years,” I hiss.
“One that Jeff gave you?” Rose questions. “Or were they all self-inflicted?”
She has me there.
“Can we order?” I change the subject. “I’m hungry.”
We flag down Susan, who scurries over with her head hung so that her bangs cover her eyes. She’s been this way for so long, I don’t know that I would recognize her if she were to look at us straight on. At least I know it’s not us, since I’ve watched her greet every other table this way as well.
“Okay, but back to my original question,” Alice demands. “How?”
Errr….good question…
“It just happened?” I shrug, hoping I stuck the landing.
I didn’t.
“Just happened? What? Did you trip and land on his dick? These things don’t just happen.”
“Sure they do,” Rose defends. “Look at Pierce and me.”
I hold out my arm, gesturing toward Rose, who makes a damn good point right about now. Our very own Belle from Beauty and the Beast . She and her fiancé are one of the happiest couples I’ve ever seen, and fate brought them together via a freak snowstorm, trapping them inside Pierce’s mountain cabin over Christmas. A fairy tale if there ever was one.
“You could have just as easily encountered a serial killer as you did Prince Charming,” Emily points out. “Actually, I think odds were probably in your favor that your story would have gone Hitchcock rather than Disney.”
“Now you sound like my mother,” Rose retorts.
“Back to Dolly!” Alice says. Reaching across the table, she takes my hand, squeezing it. “Judgment free zone, so please don’t think I’m trying to be that person. Because I’m not. But I also want to make sure that you don’t get hurt here. You were left at the altar a month ago. After six years. Is jumping into bed with someone else really a good idea?”
I let out a long, ragged breath, squeezing her hand in return, thankful that my heart is what she’s concerned about most right now. And I know deep down that it truly is. I can see it in her eyes. All the hesitation and worry that hovers right under the surface, warring with the desire to be excited.
I’m right there with her.
“You think I haven’t thought about that? Because this isn’t just anyone else. It’s Hux!”
“There are worse people to rebound with,” Emily points out.
That’s not what I want. I don’t think…
“Except Hux isn’t rebound material, is he?” Margeaux says.
I shake my head. “No. Hux Hayes isn’t rebound material. He’s endgame.”
“Squeeeeee! OMG!” Rose keens, balling her fists and pressing her lips together to stop herself from all-out shrieking.
Our food appears, Susan, still hiding behind her bangs, sliding the plates in between the appetizers we haven’t touched. My pulse speeds up, insecurity creeping in about all my feelings. Everything made so much sense at the beach—when it was just Hux and me cocooned away from the real world. But now, I’m reminded of how messy it all is. Of what’s at stake.
“Dolly, I’m dying here. Please spill,” Rose says, digging into the food.
I follow her lead, serving myself, then launching into the tale of our weekend on Somerset Island. Or at least a high-level overview, giving them the rundown of how one thing led to another, to tequila, and then to an admission out of both of us that neither saw coming.
“I don’t know what happens next. All I know is that he is making me feel things that Jeff never did. And it might just be the happiest I’ve ever been. But also the most scared.”
“Scared? Why?” Alice questions.
I scoff around a pot sticker, not sure where to begin. “He’s Hux, the Clyde to my Bonnie. The yee to my haw. The milk to my cookies. He’s never not been there, and if this goes south and messes it all up, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
A knot forms in my gut, the noodles I’ve been chowing down on starting to churn. The last thing I need to do is borrow worry. But I can’t help it. Maybe it’s a symptom of having been recently left by the man who I thought loved me—regardless of how I felt about him—but there is a small voice in the back of my head reminding me that I might be on borrowed time.
And the more I think about it, the more I listen to that voice, the more distraught I become. Because I really do think that might be the end of me.
“Why would it go south?” Rose asks. “It’s you two. If there was ever a pair that was ready-made for forever, it’s you two. The whole town has been talking about it since we were kids.”
“I’m not exactly his type.”
Understatement number two of the evening…
“What world do you live in?” Margeaux asks.
“You haven’t lived here long enough to witness the very particular brand of svelte, dark-haired women Hux seems to find wherever we go.”
The rest of the table nods; they’ve all seen it too. There’s no denying it, in all the years that we’ve been going out, I can probably count on one hand the number of non-brunettes Hux has hit on.
“Maybe not. But I’ve been around long enough to see that in his eyes, when it comes to you, he would stop the world and spin it backward if that’s what it took to make you happy.”
“That he would,” Emily agrees.
“He was your man of honor for crying out loud,” Rose adds.
“And the bachelorette weekend? He didn’t blink when I told him the plans or cost. In fact, he asked if that was really all and was I sure I didn’t need more,” Alice tacks on.
Stop the world and spin it backward…
Margeaux’s words hit me, all of the things Hux has done over the years swirling around me. He may not be a man of many words, but he’s a doer. And he’s always been right there, doing whatever I need. Bringing me whatever fruit or nut Hayes had extra of for the diner. Fixing something without being asked. Attempting to bus tables or wash dishes when I’ve been shorthanded.
Silently telling me something I didn’t understand.
And just like that, I fall for him a little harder.
Not bothering to hide the ridiculous, shit-eating grin that’s taking over my face, I look up, ready to blab to my girls. To maybe give them a bit of an overshare that will send us into a fit of giggles for the rest of tonight. And into tomorrow when we all meet up for Drafts and Dig In.
Until I see who is walking in the door.
Jeff. With another woman.
I freeze, all the joy draining from me. My lungs burn, the inability to breathe taking over. Somehow, I thought the first time I saw him again I’d be fine. I’d be able to walk right past him and not be bothered. Apparently I lied to myself.
“Who is she?” Rose asks, just above a whisper.
“No idea,” I answer honestly.
Not me—that’s who she is. And frankly, he has a lot of nerve bringing her to my favorite restaurant. Something I should probably go tell him.
“He no with you?” Mrs. Ngo asks, appearing out of nowhere.
“Oh, um…no. We…we broke up,” I choke out the answer.
“You dump him?” she follows up.
I shake my head. “No. He dumped me. On our wedding day.”
Eyes going wide, she mutters something in her native language, shuffling off in a move that I couldn’t replicate if I tried. I look between my friends, trying to hold in the awkward laughter that is bubbling in me. I didn’t exactly plan to admit to Mrs. Ngo that I was jilted like that, but here we are. Guess that’s what I get for being a regular.
“What is she doing?” Emily mutters.
“Is she…” Alice murmurs, all of us turning to watch as Mrs. Ngo marches over to Jeff’s table with a large porcelain pot.
“Is that…soup?” Margeaux asks.
I shake my head, not at all following what we’re watching.
Mrs. Ngo stops at the edge of their table, saying something to Jeff directly, ignoring his date. I can’t hear what she says, but I can tell by her head movements that it’s stern and rough.
“What the…”
Before I can finish my question, Mrs. Ngo swiftly overturns the pot, dumping the soup directly on Jeff. He screams, leaping up from the table as the hot liquid hits him.
My hands fly over my mouth, my guffaw escaping despite my efforts. Alice, Emily, Rose, and Margeaux are right behind me, the chorus of our laughter echoing off the furniture, attracting the attention of the rest of the patrons. Not that we care. Because the show that just came with dinner was worth every dirty look we’re getting. And then some.
“That taken care of,” Mrs. Ngo declares, reappearing at our table, empty pot still in hand. “You with other one now? Holes in ears?”
I burst into laughter again, her description of Hux’s ear gauges more than enough to push me over the edge. Nodding, I bite my lip to try to stop, unable to.
Still looking at me sternly, she nods. “Okay then. Better choice. I bring you fortune cookies.”
“See, even Mrs. Ngo has your back,” Alice comments once she disappears.
That she does…