Chapter 24 #2
Henry nodded toward the French doors once I’d composed myself, and we stepped into the sun to check on the decoration committee’s progress.
I could feel Henry next to me just like I could feel the sun on my skin.
“Kenzie, those are amazing!” I called when I saw Kenzie and Mia finish hanging strings of red Solo cups off the pool house’s pergola.
“How long did it take you to make them?”
“Not long.” She smiled. “Mia and I watched Animal House while we did it.”
Henry raised his hands in silent applause while I mimed a chef’s kiss.
My heart twinged. Animal House was one of the first movies we’d watched together.
“We have fairy lights, too,” Mia said. “It should look really cool once it gets dark.”
Meanwhile, Ellie and Jared had arranged the tables we rented in a long line, ready and waiting for food.
The table under the pergola was covered with the custom Fairfeild cups, with plastic tubs nearby.
We’d fill them with ice later, before popping the kegs in.
I hoped I would be fortunate enough to miss the inevitable keg stands.
Two cheesy lawn chairs sat on either side of the pool, for Kaitlyn and Mateo, our lifeguards.
“What time is the band getting here?” Ellie asked.
“Late this afternoon,” I said. “I have no idea where they should be”—I gestured around the yard—“so I want them to have plenty of time to figure that out and do a sound check and stuff. Lana thought their class dinner would be over around eight.”
“That seems weirdly early,” Kenzie said.
I shrugged. “I figure we’d order pizzas for dinner?”
Ellie volunteered to pick them up; I told her I was eternally grateful.
Griff, Jason, and the rest of our security detail came over around two. “You need any help?” Griff asked, but ten minutes later, they were whooping and whistling and cannonballing into the pool.
Griffin Keeler is going to be the death of me, I thought, but perked up when Henry’s improv trio arrived with our Costco haul.
“Okay, what are you making?” Cam asked, setting everything on the island. A white box with Hostess’s red, white, and blue logo peeked out of a reusable bag.
“Slutty brownies and a white trash wedding cake,” Henry answered.
“Huh?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Not your monkeys, not your circus.”
Because it was, unfortunately, my monkeys and my circus.
I suggested that Rory, Cam, and Alec head outside and scout the driveway and yard, to figure out how they wanted to run the valet line tonight.
“Don’t need to tell us twice,” Alec said. “We bought highvis construction vests so no one runs us over.”
I snapped my fingers. “That’s the level of effort I’m looking for!”
After they smirked and sauntered out of the kitchen, Henry and I were alone again. I racked my brain for something else he could do, or for someone who could act as a buffer, but my concentration broke when he spoke. “Audrey…”
My heart jumped into my throat as Henry took a deep breath. Yes?
“Are you sure about keeping the kegs in the wine cellar? Because…”
“I’m relocating them later,” I said in a little voice, and swallowed so my heart would sink back down into my chest. Henry had always been a master at keeping things professional, so I had to do the same.
I gestured to all the ingredients on the island.
“Right now there are more pressing matters at hand.”
We started on the slutty brownies, which were basically four-layer brownies.
Layer one was Toll House cookie dough, the second layer was half a bowl of brownie mix, followed by Oreos arranged in the center, and topped off with the rest of the brownie batter.
The smell brought me back to our kitchen in Philadelphia; I’d helped my mom make them for my dad’s party.
Why are they called slutty brownies? I’d asked.
Because, she eventually said, they’re brownies that don’t know they’re loved, so they share themselves with everyone.
(It turned out she’d been quoting Urban Dictionary.)
“Can we please eat a couple?” Henry asked after our third batch. We hadn’t spoken since cracking a trio of eggs for batch one.
“Are you seriously suggesting that?” I eyed him, but my rumbling stomach gave me away and Henry sliced us a couple. My hand prickled where it brushed his as he handed me a square.
The white trash wedding cake was the pièce de résistance.
With the kitchen oven occupied by the brownies, we baked three cakes in the outdoor kitchen’s oven, and once they’d cooled, I recruited Jared to help unwrap the treasure trove of Twinkies, Hostess Cupcakes, Snoballs, and Donettes.
Henry got the message to find himself a new task.
It killed me how relieved I was.
In between each layer of vanilla cake were the chocolate cupcakes, and after slathering the wonky wedding cake–like creation with Pillsbury’s Funfetti icing, we decorated it with the other snacks.
A ring of Snoballs at the base, Twinkies pressed against the sides, a small ring of Donettes, more Twinkies, and a cupcake as the angel at the top of the tree!
“I pinkie promise I will not post this anywhere,” Jared breathed once we finished. “But I need photo evidence.”
“Same,” I said, beaming. “Send it to me?”
I quickly reorganized the garage fridge so we could store the cake in it. The rest of the food was simple: potato chips, Doritos, Cheetos, pretzels, plus some seven-layer dip that Jared had volunteered to make from the contents of the fridge. “Kitchen sink dip,” he called it.
Was it delicious? Was it disgusting?
I’d let the party decide.
The paper plates were red and white gingham, like a picnic blanket, the napkins black, and the plastic flatware white. Fairfield—oops, Fairfeild—colors.
I was texting updates to Lana, who’d checked in multiple times, and Joel, who hadn’t checked in once, when the doorbell rang. “I’ve got it!” I heard Ellie call from somewhere as I thought, Cue the band…
I love everything about this! Lana texted me back. I only wish Joel had gotten everyone to dress up (he’s the sales guy). Eighties costumes would’ve been so—
Someone tapped my shoulder.
“Yeah?” I asked, glancing up to see Ellie. “Was that the band? At the door?”
Strangely pale-faced, she nodded.
“Perfect! Can you find Jared? He’s the A/V expert, so he can help with whatever.”
Ellie didn’t move.
I gave her a funny look. “What’s up?”
Her lips were in a straight line. “I think you should meet the band.”
“I will,” I said. “But I have some stuff—”
“Audrey!”
“Okay, okay,” I agreed, nodding quickly. I’d never heard her voice so sharp. “Take me to the band.”
I entered the pool’s splash zone approximately two minutes later. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” I called to Griff.
About to launch himself off the diving board, he glanced around, as if to say, You talking to me?
“Yes, Keeler!” I said, my voice cracking as he hit the water.
“Why didn’t I tell you what?” he asked once he surfaced.
“That your cousin’s band”—I had to will myself not to detonate—“are all freshmen!”
High school freshmen.
Fifteen. Years. Old.
“Well, technically, they’re almost sophomores,” Griff said.
“But yeah, sorry, I thought I mentioned that.” He chuckled.
“Also, Conrad is a sophomore, so he’s basically a junior.
” He hoisted himself out of the water and slicked back his wet hair.
If Kenzie and Mia weren’t killing it as worker bees, I’m sure they would’ve gone weak at the knees. “Are they here?”
“They were.” I folded my arms over my chest. “I sent them home.”
(The mom who drove them had rolled down her SUV window and called out, “Wrong address?”)
Griff grabbed a towel. “Aw, man, why?”
“Because they’re freshmen!”
What was so hard for him to get? Having his cousin’s band play was like hiring Tate to run a temporary tattoo table tonight. We weren’t allowed-to-drink adults, but everyone here was eighteen—legal adults. And Kenzie, Mia, and Jared were mature for their age.
I hoped.
Griff sighed. “Well, we lost our music for tonight. Do you want me to make a playlist?”
“That would be wonderful,” I said, even though I had no intention of utilizing it. Griff’s playlists were electric, but Lana and Joel weren’t paying us to plug in an aux cord.
I just wanted him to do something while I found a band.
Fortunately, I knew of one.
IF YOU NEED ANYTHING OR HAVE QUESTIONS WITHIN the next twenty minutes, I texted the growing Circle of Trust group chat, Henry and Ellie are your point people.
Then I sank down on Fair Winds II’s couch and sighed.
I really didn’t want to make this call.
But I had no other choice. Henry had quit cello after three weeks, and while Ellie could sing, I knew her non–show tunes repertoire wasn’t strong enough.
“Hello,” James said after 1.5 rings. “What can I help you with?”
My pulse wavered. “How do you know I need help?”
“Because up until now, I’ve always been the one to call you,” he said. “You never call me.” A pause. “It hurts.”
“James, can you be a real person for five seconds?”
“I’ll try my best.”
“Thank you.” I swallowed hard. “Okay, I do need your help.”
“Call 911.”
“J!” (Isa, in the background.)
He laughed, then cleared his throat. “Audrey, are you physically all right?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Situationally all right?”
“Mmm…” I hesitated. “Are you guys still in Providence?”
“No, actually,” he said, “we’re not.”
Shit.
“Funnily enough, we’re an hour from Essex Harbor,” he continued, making my stomach drop.
“Our entire family—Grammy and Poppy included—has been under the impression that we’ve been eating at least two meals a day together these past few weeks, so I thought it might be nice for your parents to see me when they get back tomorrow. You know, in the flesh.”
Heart hammering, I gripped my phone tighter. I hadn’t even thought of that. Where’s James? I could imagine my mom asking, and I would’ve had to pull something out of my ass.
“But enough about my travel schedule,” James said. “You said you needed help with something?”
My voice was small. “Did you happen to bring your keyboard? Or your guitar?”
“Of course,” he said. “Isa and I are driving home to Pennsylvania after this, so we brought everything. Why?”
I bit the inside of my cheek.
“Oh, shit, Audrey. Did you volunteer In the Luxembourg Gardens to perform somewhere? Like a high school party? Are you throwing another party?”
“Uh-huh.” I tried to control my voice. “Something like that.”
He let out a deep groan, then took a deep breath. It was how he summoned his second wind. “Okay, okay,” he said, reenergized. “I’m going to put you on speaker so you can give us three songs to set a vibe. Isa will put a set list together based on that.”
“Cool,” I said, feeling bolstered. “My best guess—”
“But first,” he cut me off, “you’re going to tell me exactly what this party’s like.”