Chapter 57
NOW
“After love, after love, after love,” sings Matt on stage.
“Do you think he knows he’s doing a Cher impression as well as singing the song?” Austin asks.
I laugh. “Possibly not. Another drink?”
“Sure, I can get it.”
He starts to stand but I press him gently back into his chair. “No, no, it’s fine.”
I’m pleasantly buzzed enough to be confident, so I bend back down and kiss him on the cheek. When I start to pull away, he pulls me back down by the hem of my shirt and kisses me on the lips.
We kiss for a long moment, and then I pull back and look at him. Shake my head. “Oh, Austin, Austin, Austin.”
He smacks me on the ass, and I do a little skip and then go up to the bar, giggling like an idiot.
Dusty is working behind the bar tonight. A big, tall, gray man as he has been my whole life, he looks exactly the same as when I was fifteen and coming in to play Ping-Pong on the patio.
“Two more crushes, Dusty.”
“You got it, hon. Gotta go get some more grapefruits, it’ll be just a sec.”
“Okay!”
I can’t stop smiling. I just feel like things are righting themselves in the universe, even though so much is wrong. Maybe you have to go so far in one direction that it starts to double back. So cold it burns.
“Didion?”
I turn at the sound of my name, and blink a few times at the girl in glasses standing across from me. Then I realize who it is. “Eva!”
Eva, who I first met while she was wearing a Yale sweatshirt the night I met Austin. She had indeed gone on to be accepted to Yale, and last I heard she was a professor at some university.
“What are you doing down here?” I ask, giving her a hug.
“Visiting my parents, seeing the girls, you know. What about you?”
“Oh—”
This is the first time I’ve had to tell someone. Out loud. I didn’t mention it to anyone at work. Didn’t even say why I needed the time off. We aren’t that kind of restaurant. Everything gets checked at the door.
“My mother died.”
Eva’s eyes go wide, and then she looks confused. “Babe? But … she was so young, what happened?”
It’s not easy to explain. Not cancer. Not a car wreck. A choice.
“Sorry—I shouldn’t have asked. I know better than that, you don’t have to tell me.”
“It’s fine. She was sick for a while. Died last week.”
“God, I am so sorry to hear that. I loved your mom. She let my parents stay with her when their place flooded a few years ago.”
“That sounds like her,” I admit.
Her eyes flit behind me. “Whole gang here, huh?”
I look over and see Sammie telling a story with big gesticulations. Austin listening. Matt picking another song while Boomer does his version of “Papa Don’t Preach.”
A song I really hated for a while.
“Babe wanted us here, so … we came. Funeral is tomorrow if you want to come.”
“Over at the house?”
“Yep.”
There’s something in her eyes as she looks back at our table again. “It’s so none of my business, but are you and Austin a thing again?”
My heart lurches. Tell me this is not another shoe dropping.
“No.”
There’s a lump in my throat. Not sure if I’m lying or not.
She looks like she wants to say something, and then thinks better of it. “I should get back to my table. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
I almost let her go. “Wait, Eva.”
She turns back. “Hmm?”
“Were you going to say something? About Austin?”
“It’s really not my place.”
Dusty comes up from the back with an arm full of grapefruits and sets about making our drinks.
“Eva,” I say. “Respectfully, spit it out.” I give a little laugh, trying to make her feel comfortable, even though I’m feeling less okay by the second.
“It’s just … I know I don’t have the full story, but I see you and your sister going back to these guys, and … I don’t know. Sammie and Johnny, I know that’s sort of on another level, but Austin—did you know I went out with him for a little bit?”
It feels like a knife to the gut. He’s the only person who has ever inspired unhealthy jealousy in me. “No, I didn’t.”
“It was like, nothing. It was in college, only for a few weeks. I know that was a long time ago, but I’ve known him since we were all growing up. That is a guy with about a million commitment issues. The only things I’ve ever seen him commit to are his truck and tennis.”
I hate my cheeks for turning as red as I know they are. “No, of course. Really, we’re not getting back together.”
She shakes her head. “Look at me, I’m back home for a few hours, and suddenly I’m meddling in everybody’s lives like a townie. I should shut up. Your mom just died. I don’t even know why I said anything.”
“No, it’s fine. I can appreciate a girl looking out for another girl. And trust me, I’m doing my best with Sammie too.”
“I teach feminist literature and I have a bad habit of letting it leak out into everything else. But what do I know, I think Elizabeth should have dumped Mr. Darcy and run for the hills.”
Another Bennet woman who set her sights on an impossible man. Though she got hers in the end, and I have a feeling I won’t. Even with how good it all feels—it never results in anything real. Why would now be any different?
I laugh to stop from crying, and then say, “Thank you,” when Dusty brings over the crushes. “It was really good seeing you, Eva.”
“Please ignore me, really,” she says. “It was great seeing you too. Sorry again to hear about your mom.”
We hug again and then she goes off to whoever she came with.
By the time I go back to the table, I feel like reality has landed squarely on my shoulders, getting heavier and heavier by the second.
I’m sorry Babe is gone, but I’m also relieved.
She was so harsh to me, seemingly only me, so many times.
She redirected my life because of her own regrets—of which I was very much one.
If I shut my eyes, I can still feel the shock of her hand making contact with my face.
I never forgave her for that, and why should I?
She was a lost woman with a score to settle, and with no clear opponent, she picked her oldest daughter.
The one who hadn’t been on purpose, the one who had derailed her life.
My sister had chosen a horrible guy over me. Austin had let me go, time and time again. And Matt, he hadn’t done one big thing, but he hadn’t tried very hard, had he? None of them did. I know it was a two-way street, that I’d had every opportunity to reach out to them over the years.
But so did they.
And they didn’t.
Sure, Austin did, one night when the buzz was loud enough and he decided to have a fling for old time’s sake. Sammie did when our mother was on the brink of death, and she wanted to argue about it with me.
All I do in life is look for where I can be better, do better. I always take the blame if possible, because it means I can change things for next time. I take so much responsibility. But for whatever reason, I had drawn the line with this group. Was it a grudge? Or was it a boundary?
Why am I here, playing The Big Chill with them when they had not shown me that they cared when it mattered? Because believe it or not, Babe’s funeral is not when it matters most. All the years I’ve spent without them were.
Everything starts to boil over, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the explosive energy, so I stand up and burst outside onto the patio.
I don’t stop moving until I hit the pier, rushing through the thick rain under the threatening sky. It feels better to be there, amidst the elements, where I am not the only thing charged.
My lungs feel like they’re going to burst. My throat is so constricted I might suffocate.
My skin burns. My teeth are clenched like a vise, and my heartbeat is pounding in my ears.
Every thought and feeling I’ve suppressed for the last decade—longer even, is suddenly rising to the surface, or perhaps the tide is going out and exposing everything embedded in the sand beneath.
I’m trying to breathe, trying to steady myself, but I can’t.
I’m not sure if I’m crying or letting out a sound.
I’m out here in the deafening rain, on the shifting pier, churning waves crashing against the old wood beneath my feet.
I’m starting to fear that I am the most volatile force on this island.