42ADAM
42 ADAM
“Arranged marriage…that’s some bullshit right there.” Shep says, still shocked.
“I do not understand how that’s still a thing today.” Matt says into his beer before taking a sip.
Dennis huffs, “I do, unfortunately.”
“Same.” Emerson says.
Dennis’s family, the DeLanes and Emerson’s family, the Clarks are billionaire families, both a few steps down from British royalty. There’s money, and there’s their kind of money. As I understand it, Dennis only reconnected with Kat because he was in Northwest Arkansas to try and win a business marriage contract of his own from some AmeriMart heiress there.
It gets quiet for a second on my—no, on the—back porch. Not my back porch. My porch is a few houses down and covered in toys and outdoor rugs and cushions and little lantern things Susan had me pick up from a lighting store. This is just a big wooden rectangle with some cheap chairs that came with the rental.
“All the things you just told us, all you’ve done over the last year, why don’t you just tell her all that?” Nate asks.
Shep chuckles. “Don’t know if you noticed but I just told you most of his life story, apart from the big secret arrangement part. Our main man here is not very chatty.”
“Hm,” Nate stares down into his drink. “I’m only chatty with Sally, I guess.”
“Me as well,” Emerson says softly. “But wasn’t it you chastising me about not sharing everything with Samantha just over a year ago? Quite the pot-kettle situation, don’t you think?”
“First, it’s easy to hand out advice you’re too chicken to take yourself. And second, you’re…different,” I say, trying to explain gesturing at him. “Clarky, you’re all gooey inside. Like Shep on the outside.”
Shep scoffs, “I assume by gooey you mean wickedly charming and lovable.”
“No.” I roll my eyes at my stocky, blond viking-looking friend. “More like soft.” I tease.
“Let’s frickin’ go right now, old man, I’ll show you who’s soft.” He gets up and starts flexing. I’m only a couple years older.
Moron.
“I also don’t love the term gooey.” Emerson chimes in, so polite. He tenses and it’s kinda funny. He’s also in great shape. All these guys are, even if Shep or myself or Nate can bench press quite a bit more than he or Matt or Dennis can. They could outrun our heavy asses.
“You know what I mean, Emerson.” I try to think about it. “You…have things to say. You’re just stingy about it. Susan always said you were a romantic underneath.”
“And what’re you underneath?” Shep asks.
“Grumpy.” I joke.
“Nah, underneath that.” Nate asks, surprising me.
“I just…I’m not that smart. I don’t have the right words. Like Suze would ask me what I thought of something, like a dress, okay? She wanted an Emerson type answer. All I could think of was pretty. It’s a pretty dress?” I shrug.
“Well, hear me out,” Nate says, “There is this thing called a thes-saur-us.”
“Newbie with the unexpected buuuuurn!” Shep yells.
“OHHH!” The guys explode.
I close my eyes and exhale. “You’re all a bunch of tools.”
“Hey Siri,” Shep says, “What’s another word for tool?”
The guys start hollering and laughing again.
I glare around. “A thesaurus. This is your grand plan to help me win my wife back?”
“Words were enough for Nathaniel.” Shep points with his Perrier bottle. “But when we had to help Kat convince Sir Pompous LimpDick over there,” He points to Dennis. “We had to get more sophisticated.”
I nod, “I only heard bits and pieces of that story.”
“Matt and Nate can fill you in. There were perfectly timed billboards and a logistical nightmare involving black Ford trucks driving in circles. Lot of fuss for ol’ man DeLane if you ask me.” Dennis just shrugs with a small smile. I guess he’s willing to take whatever Shep sends his way for the rest of their lives. As it should be. Sadie dumped him and he was a dick to her.
No one gets to just be a dick to one of our girls.
Except, I guess, for the last few years, me. Ugh.
“Lot of fuss for me too,” I say quietly. “Maybe you shouldn’t help. I really messed up.”
“When you left?” Emerson asks.
“No, before that. When I let us go so long without really talking. I mean, now, looking back, I can see it was years. I was so twisted up in my own crap. It…it was bad.” I admit. “And she…she tried to…uh, reconnect at your wedding,” I tell Emerson. “But she was drunk and I was still confused. So I screwed that up. Took my anger at Susan out on Sadie that night. Made it even worse.
“Then a couple months back I saw a glimmer of hope at the hospital with Sally. Caught Susan looking at me, not glaring, looking. But we both had separate business trips right after that and the next chance I had to talk to her a few weeks later, I tried smiling, talking, doing extra with the boys, she was totally shut off. Been that way since. Cold and won’t look me in the eye. I don’t know what happened.”
“First,” Nate replies, “You need to just be honest and talk to her. Show her what you showed us.”
“Perhaps,” Emerson thinks aloud and we all wait and listen. “Try to recreate all that you can from when she fell in love with you.”
“Wasn’t that college, though?” Matt asks.
“Yes but what did she like best? Samantha prefers me in a suit. Your clothes, cologne, hair cut, does she like you with a beard or clean shaven?”
“Hmmm,” I try to think back.
“Yup, do all that. Then talk to her and then, hopefully, she’s gonna reject the crap outta you,” Shep says.
I bow my head a bit, he’s right. Because she should. “She should,” I say aloud.
“She will.” Shep rubs his hands together, almost shaking with excitement. “Then we get to do some grand gesturing. Remember my surprise wedding? Nate doin’ up Sally’s house? Sammy’s marching band? Between Clarky boy and the rest of us, we’ll come up with something good, you’ll see.”
“He’s so easily excited. Careful boy,” Matt talks to Shep like he’s a golden retriever. “Do I need to get your pee pee mat?”
Shep makes an obscene gesture. Everyone laughs.
“Right then, time to go. Samantha is worried,” Emerson says, checking his phone. The guys take the cue and begin gathering beer bottles and sandwich wrappers from the back porch and shuffling into the kitchen.
Shep is last and he stops before heading past me. “I’m staying.”
“Huh? Why?” I ask.
“Believe it or not, I’m the most evolved of all of us jackasses. Sadie and I are pros at therapy now.”
My stomach turns over. “I’m not—”
“I know, Cap. You’re not gonna go to therapy. Shocker. But all you said was you were bitter and angry for years. Even when I knew you back in college you were pissed. So I texted Sadie that you needed me and I was headed to Tulsa, just overnight. And I’m going to stay here and you’re gonna talk.”
“Shep,” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Adam. I’m going to stay and I’m going to hold the damn space or whatever it’s called, and you’re going to tell me why you’ve been mad your whole miserable life.”
I can see he’s not budging. “Fine.”
“Good. Let’s get some real food. Sandwiches are for pussies.”
“You know you can’t say—”
“I know, their mama gave us all the same lecture about the strength of vaginas.” He laughs, clearly pushing all my buttons on purpose. “Sandwiches are for punks. Happy now?”
“No.”
He grabs my shoulder. “I know, brother. But you will be.”
_____
“Shep,” I wake him up.
“Sade! Huh! What!” He sits up, confused.
I put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s me. You’re still in Tulsa. Sadie’s fine.”
“Hmph,” he scratches his chest. “What’s happening.”
I hesitate. I’ve been lying awake—despite the headache and deep exhaustion from all the damn talking all night long—sick, totally sick about the fact that Susan is out there dating.
“I…I think I have an idea.”
He starts to wake up, “Like a grand gesture?”
“Yes. Maybe. Sort of? It’s kind of crazy.”
He smiles wide. “I love it already.”
I sit down on the guest bed and, unbelievably after the day I’ve had, again, I start talking.