Chapter 9
“I’ll tell you what,” Rachel said, the corners of her mouth stained with barbecue sauce. She’d gotten a fully loaded Impossible Burger with fries and couldn’t stop raving about it. “If this were Date Me Now!, you’d definitely be getting the All-Access Pass tonight.”
Will swallowed an enormous bite of cheesesteak, his own lips smeared with provolone. “I have to admit, I’m not quite sure this meets the standards of a quote, unquote romantic getaway. But it is getting the job done.”
The concert was at 9:30 p.m., so they’d left the room at 6:30, hoping to grab dinner at a restaurant in the Third Ward. The first three places they’d tried each had hour-plus waits, which didn’t seem at all unreasonable given it was a Saturday night during concert season. But Rachel didn’t want to risk getting stuck somewhere and suggested they instead go in early, eat on the Summerfest grounds, and just sort of wander around listening to other bands until it was time for the show.
“Maybe we can try the Third Ward for brunch tomorrow before we leave,” Will said as he reached for another napkin. “We’re going to be in the car awhile, so it might be worth having an actual meal somewhere. No offense to your burger.”
“Thank you for clarifying. Because a fake burger this good is a special thing, and you would’ve been sleeping alone tonight if you’d implied otherwise.”
He thought about the email to Beatriz and hoped Rachel’s joke wasn’t actually some sort of foreshadowing of her kicking him out of their bed.
“Speaking of special,” Will said, determined to change the subject in his own head, “have you ever noticed the opening act is always called a special guest?”
“What do you want them to say instead? ‘Here’s the person you didn’t pay to see’?”
“Maybe just the opener? It’s like everybody’s afraid to admit it’s a warm-up.”
“But maybe special guest is what the special guests prefer.”
He was about to tell her why he thought there was no way on earth that could be possible, but at that exact moment, there was such loud laughter from behind her that he got distracted. He looked over Rachel’s right shoulder, through the throngs of people, and spotted the laughers: a couple about their age, both of whom were wearing what at a distance looked to be some type of VIP pass. And had it stopped right there at the lanyards hanging around their necks, everything would’ve been fine. But Will made the mistake of glancing up at their faces, which was when he realized the woman he’d never seen before was holding hands with someone he had.
It was Seth. As in Rachel’s old boyfriend Seth.
Will quickly looked down at the last third of his cheesesteak, hoping that if he concentrated on it hard enough, it would mean that the eye contact he was scared he and Seth had just made was only a figment of his imagination. Or short of that, that Seth wouldn’t register who he was, allowing Will to be both insulted that Rachel’s ex didn’t remember what he looked like and thrilled that they wouldn’t be reliving their chance encounter at the Cubs game. He had enough on his mind without having to try to interact with the beautiful human from Rachel’s past.
What Will hadn’t noticed in all this was that Rachel had turned her head after he did.
“No way,” she said. “I think that’s Seth.”
“Who?” Will said innocently, not taking his eyes off his food.
“Seth. From high school. That’s so weird. You know? Because we were just talking about him?”
“Oh, right. Seth.”
In truth, it was odd for Will and Rachel to see him there so soon after talking about him. Despite the high school stories, Seth hadn’t been an active part of Rachel’s life in years, save for some happy-birthday texts and the like, and the two of them were even inconsistent about that. They hadn’t had a falling-out or anything; it was just the normal drift that happens when you and most of the people you were close with at 18 go off in different directions and start the long process of becoming whoever you’re going to be for the rest of your lives. Which explained why Rachel did not hesitate to yell out:
“Seth Sanders, the pride of Livingston High School!”
Seth looked her way, startled, before breaking into a huge grin, saying something to the woman he was with, and then leading the two of them over to where Rachel and Will were sitting.
“Rachel Armas, the Picasso of Palatine!”
Rachel stood to greet him, and they gave each other a huge hug. Will got up, too, but only because he felt like he had to, and steeled himself to appear friendly for when the man who looked like he’d just stepped out of a J.Crew ad disengaged his arms from around his wife. While he waited, he had the chance to fully register that Seth’s date was as striking as he was, her flowy green dress perfectly complementing her hair as it cascaded to just below her shoulders. For her part, Rachel looked beautiful in a floral-print romper and sandals, and next to the three of them, Will was the designated driver on the Cool Kids’ Trip to the Concert.
Rachel and Seth separated, and he thrust his hand toward Will.
“Will, great to see you again, man!”
His enthusiasm was palpable. And annoying. Even more so because he seemed to mean it.
“How’s it going, Seth?” Will said, catching a whiff of cologne. Seth even smelled attractive.
“Ah, it’s goin’ great.” He took a step back and put an arm around his companion. “And this wonderful woman is the main reason why. I’d like you both to meet my fiancée, Francesca.”
“Oh my God!” Rachel exclaimed. “That’s amazing! Congratulations! Oh, and hi, Francesca! I’m Rachel, and this is Will!”
They all four laughed, with the three meeting for the first time then taking turns awkwardly shaking hands. The requisite small talk ensued, and Will and Rachel learned what they probably would’ve already known if she were more active on Instagram: that the happy couple had met at a mixer for graduates of the University of Wisconsin Law School and gotten engaged just the weekend before. Will studied Rachel’s reaction to all this out of the corner of his eye, and she seemed genuinely delighted for them, which made his mild yet nagging obsession over what she thought about Seth all these years later feel a little ridiculous.
After the story of the engagement, it was Seth’s turn to ask what was new with them, and Rachel told him and Francesca that she was pregnant, setting off another round of Oh my Gods and congratulations. Without a shared history, Will and Francesca were mainly spectators in all this, but he was okay with that because it made it much more difficult for their significant others to reminisce for too long.
“So, do you two have pavilion or main-stage tickets?” Seth asked as the conversation started to peter out. It hadn’t even been five minutes.
“Pavilion,” Will said, channeling his excitement that their interaction was almost over into socially acceptable anticipation for the concert.
“Hey, us too!” Seth said. There was something in his tone that made him sound like he’d just unraveled a plot twist on a prestige drama, and Will had a sinking feeling about what was coming next. “You two should totally come sit with us! My company rented out the private bar facing the stage, so we can hang out and catch up some more!”
“That sounds awesome!” Rachel said, undoing whatever incremental emotional growth her husband had achieved while standing there. “What do you think, babe?”
Will was ready. “I mean, would they even let us in? It’s not like we have tickets to that, and I’m sure the space is limited.”
“Oh, I think we’ll manage,” Seth jumped in. “I am a vice president, after all.” He winked like he was making a joke. Mostly. There was about 15 percent You knew that, right? mixed in with it.
Perfect. The only thing Will wanted to do less than hang out in a club with Rachel’s ex was hang out in a club with Rachel’s ex after having called extra attention to the fact that the ex was pulling strings to get them in. Will momentarily entertained the idea of advocating on behalf of the seats he’d purchased, but he couldn’t come up with a compelling case why they’d be preferable to a private bar, even if Rachel couldn’t drink. No matter how deceptively good row X was, it was still row X, which by the very nature of row X’s could not be a VIP space.
“Sure, yeah,” he said with markedly less enthusiasm than he’d said pavilion.
“Great!” Seth said. “I think it’s actually open now, so we can head over.”
He reached for Francesca’s right hand with his left, and Rachel grabbed Will’s left with her right, allowing them to walk four wide with Seth and Rachel in the middle, chatting away. Will imagined themselves posed like the cast photo of a Friends-style sitcom that he would henceforth refer to privately as Reluctant Acquaintances.
“So I gotta ask,” Francesca said, leaning around Seth so she could see everyone. “Why ‘the pride of Livingston’?”
“Well, as I’m sure you know,” Rachel said, “Seth was quite the politician back in the day. President of the entire student body our senior year. Not that anyone really cared. I started calling him the pride of Livingston as a joke. He came up with Picasso of Palatine in response because of how much I liked art.”
“You have to admit,” Seth said with a sly grin, “you and I did have some fun in the student government office. If I’m not mistaken, wasn’t our first kiss in there?” Rachel rolled her eyes, and he laughed, before looking at Will and adding: “Sorry, bro.”
“Yeah, you seem real broken up about it,” Will said, pushing out a smile. “But it’s cool: I’m aware you two went out.”
“Not just went out. I mean, we were each other’s firsts—also in the student government office, ironically enough.”
This time Rachel socked him in the arm, and he laughed again.
“I think that’s enough about our dating history,” she said. “These two don’t want to hear about it.”
“Oh, I’m just goofing around,” Seth said. “Will knows that. Right, Will? I mean, he got you in the end, didn’t he?”
At that, Francesca stopped and stared at him. She was smiling, but it was the kind of smile that warned you taking its continued presence in your life for granted would be a mistake. “Got her in the end? What am I? Your consolation prize?”
Had Will known the pilot of Reluctant Acquaintances was going to involve Seth squirming so much, he would’ve been happier about being cast. He could’ve done without the reminder that Rachel and Seth had slept together, though—she’d told Will that a long time ago—and finding out they’d been daring enough to do it on school grounds made him feel more than ever like she’d inhabited a completely different universe in high school than what he’d known.
“Frannie, c’mon,” Seth said. “You know what I mean. It was high school. It’s ancient history.”
“Yes. It is. So maybe tone down your delight about it a couple of notches.”
She didn’t drop his hand, and they all resumed walking, but Rachel and Will hung back a few steps to break up their four-person phalanx and give Seth and Francesca some space. From behind, they could see him doing a lot of talking and her body language gradually warming back up to him as they picked their way through the crowds to the bar.
“He’s just ...,” Rachel said but didn’t finish the thought.
“An ass?” Will offered after several seconds had passed.
Rachel laughed. “I was going to go with ‘So much, sometimes.’”
“I guess I can’t give him too hard a time. He is still clearly hung up on you after all these years. I mean, it kinda makes me wish that kid about to walk by him with the chili dog would just smash it into his shirt. But I get it.”
“That’s so not the case,” she said, “and even if it were, he’d be out of luck. Because you’re stuck with me. Unless I ever meet Barack Obama.”
“Obama? Really? He’s like sixty.”
“Yes, yes, he is,” she said, reaching her hand up to rub his back. “That happens, and you and I might have to have a difficult conversation.”