Chapter 34
“Why am I wearing this?” I look down at my black silk dress that reaches all the way down to the ground, hugging every curve along the way. My hair is down in loose waves and a pearl necklace—that better not be real—is lying just above my collar bone. My lips are painted a deep red, of course.
I look at Ben who is wearing a tux… almost. He neglected to put on a jacket and his bowtie is hanging loose, displaying the top buttons of his shirt that he didn’t bother to do.
We look hot—I have eyes!—but I’m incredibly confused about where the hell we could be going. Especially when he turns onto his parents’ street. We park outside Mr. and Dr. Bardot’s house, and I’m surprised to see several other cars already parked out front.
“Benjamin, what is happening?” I ask, hoping to get at least some information out of this man.
“Patience, Colette. You’ll find out momentarily.”
I sigh. “You know how much I love surprises.”
“I know, I know. This is a really good one, though. And if you absolutely hate it we can leave, no questions asked.” He looks at me with those stupid puppy-dog eyes, and he seems genuinely excited about whatever we’re about to walk into.
“Fine,” I agree. “But if I hate it, we are leaving. And it will still count as date three.”
“Deal. Let’s go.” He hops out of the car and then rounds the hood to my side, helping me out of my seat.
When we get to the front door, Anders answers. He is also dressed up, in a deep emerald suit with a black shirt and tie underneath. I spot a name tag stuck to his lapel that says “Vincent Castellano.”
“Welcome”—he checks his notes—“Mr. and Mrs. Luciano. Here are your name tags, please step over here to have your photo taken.”
“Anders, what the fu—”
“Ah, ah! It’s Vincent, but you can call me Vinny. Thank you for joining our dinner party this evening.” He smirks, ushering us into the house.
His wife is right inside with a polaroid camera, ready to take our picture in front of a beaded backdrop. She leans in conspiratorially, and I catch the name “Curly” on her tag. “Isn’t this so fun?” she whispers. “We thought a mob boss theme would really—”
“Baby Bardot! Stay in character!” Anders scolds.
She rolls her eyes and then motions for me to step in front of the backdrop. I stand there, still confused as hell, but give her a soft smile anyway.
“Gorgeous! Your turn, Mr. Luciano,” Bex says.
Ben steps up, pulling his suspenders away from his chest, giving the camera a wink.
Next, we move into the living room, which has been transformed into a 1950’s style club…
if you squint your eyes and tilt your head.
The furniture is grouped in little vignettes and the lights are turned down low.
It’s really adorable actually. Jules, Thea, Gabe, and the two heads of the Bardot household are mingling about, dressed up just as much as we are with champagne glasses in their hands.
They each introduce themselves—well, their made up names for the evening—and then Dr. Bardot offers to pour me a drink.
She fills about half a glass before setting the bottle and glass down gently on the counter. With a flourish, she clutches her chest with one hand and covers her forehead with the other. “I—” She coughs dramatically. “I think I’ve been poisoned!” Then she sinks to the floor.
Staring at her for a moment, I look around unsure of what to do next. Thea slides up next to me, her large stomach looks about ready to pop. “It’s a murder mystery party!” She smiles. “Isn’t that the cutest thing?”
Gabe, realizing it’s his part, rushes over to “check” his mom’s pulse.
He stands and places both hands on his hips.
“There’s been a murder! Everyone gets three clues throughout the night to solve the case.
You will have until thirty minutes after the last clue has been given to submit your guess. Good luck and trust no one…”
I turn to laugh with Thea about Gabe’s commitment to the bit, but she’s now eyeing me warily and slowly backing away.
Ben takes her place, his arm winding around my waist. “Benjamin, this is unhinged. Is your mom just going to lay there all night?”
“Dead people can’t move, Colette.” He narrows his eyes in concern. “Are they teaching you nothing in your program?”
“Yeah, I’ve learned that if there’s a murder, you shouldn’t mill about the room trying to solve it on your own,” I fire back.
“Well, this is a 1950’s mafia den soooo…” He drags out the last word as if it should be completely obvious what the second half of his sentence will be.
“So what?”
He huffs. “So pretend like we’re solving a murder. Let’s go, Red. We have to get our first clue from Bex—I mean, Curly.”
“It was Curly, in the powder room, with a poisoned bottle of perfume!” Hugo, Ben’s dad, calls an hour later after presenting all of his evidence.
“How the fuck did he figure that out?” I mutter to Ben.
“I think we might have skipped a step…” Ben replies, flipping through the clue cards in his hands.
Elaine pops up off the ground, scaring the shit out of me—I had almost forgotten she was there. “Great job, mon chou! You did it! Now let’s eat! I’m starving.”
“Are you okay to stay for dinner?” Ben asks, tugging me close.
I look around the room, nervous energy buzzing through me at his very public display of affection.
He loosens his grip and I instantly miss his firm touch.
I lean into him, moving his arms back into place as I say, “Yeah, I’d love to.
That was really fun, but maybe we should buy a kit next time instead of letting Anders and Gabe come up with the clues.
I’m ninety-nine percent sure it was not actually Curly who did it. ”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “Next time?” He grins and I shove him off me.
“Wait!” Bex runs over. “Get back together, let me take another picture.”
Ben puts his face right next to mine with a huge grin, and I flick off the camera. Once it’s developed, Ben looks down at it like it’s the most precious treasure he’s ever come across. “It’s perfect,” he says, showing me.
I realize immediately that the star of the show is the giant engagement ring on my finger.
It’s front and center, a beam of light making it sparkle even in the poor quality polaroid.
Honestly, I’ve been wearing it so often I forgot it was there, but this is the first time I’m seeing it on my hand through someone else’s eyes.
“Can I keep it?” Ben asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I nod and he tucks it into his pocket.
We sit down at the dining table with the rest of the Bardot family.
In keeping with the theme, tonight’s dinner is a variety of Italian dishes.
I actively avoid the spaghetti and meatballs—I really hate long noodles—loading my plate with lasagna instead.
I’m content to observe as the chaos of Bardot family dinner unfolds around me.
Everyone jokes, tells stories, asks thoughtful questions. They care about each other’s lives with no judgement. No expectations except that you show up.
I’m overwhelmed, so I’m quiet, but I reassure Ben that I do want to stay.
I enjoy being around his family, and a sudden pang hits me when I think about what it would mean to say no to Ben and this stupid pact.
It would mean not only losing out on him, but also on a family that I could one day, hopefully, call my own.
This is so much more than just Ben and me. So much more… “I need some air,” I whisper to Ben, urging him to stay seated when he gets up to join me.
I’m standing on the Bardot’s front porch, freezing my ass off and wishing I was a smoker, when the door creaks open. “I told you not to follow me,” I say, without even turning around.
“Apologies,” comes a much older voice. Deep in the same way Ben’s is, but… different. “I can go back inside if you’d like.”
I whirl around, instantly embarrassed. “Mr. Bardot, no it’s fine. Please stay out here, I can go in!”
He grins, looking so much like his sons in this moment. “I was hoping to talk to you, actually. Want to sit?” He gestures toward the porch swing, and that’s when I see a heavy coat draped across his arm.
“Only if that’s for me.” I nod toward the jacket, and he holds it up for me to slide my arms into.
We sit on the porch swing, rocking quietly for several minutes. It seems that Hugo Bardot doesn’t mind the silence, either. I inhale, looking up at the starry sky, debating whether or not I should be the one to start the conversation.
“We can be a lot,” Hugo says, right before I was about to excuse myself back inside.
“Hmm?”
“The Bardots. It can be a lot to try to… acclimate.”
“Oh, no. It’s fine, really.” I say it more as a comfort to him than anything else.
Hugo chuckles, obviously picking up on my discomfort.
“It’s okay,” he says. “I am also an only child. All four of them came out so rambunctious. Well, not Jules. He’s always been stoic, an old man from birth.
But the rest of them—absolutely nuts. It was a lot for me to get used to. Still is, sometimes,” he admits.
“How’d you handle it when the noise became too much?” I ask, curious about how the quieter Bardots fare amidst the chaos.
“Exactly like this,” he states, his arms spread wide to indicate the porch swing and the stars above us. “I’ve spent a lot of time in this exact spot. You can still hear their chatter inside but it’s not quite so jarring. It helps me feel connected while still taking a little time for myself.”
“I hope you don’t mind me joining you,” I reply.
He smiles warmly. “Of course not. Jules, and even Bex, will join me out here on occasion.”
We fall back into comfortable silence, the back and forth motion of the swing soothing my nerves. A few minutes later, Hugo speaks again. “This might sound odd, but I remember the day you moved to town.”
“That does sound odd,” I joke. “Seeing as it was, what? Almost eighteen years ago.”
He hums. “Something like that. Sassafras is a small town, as you know. We don’t get a lot of newcomers.
I met your father first, actually. Elaine heard someone was moving in a few streets over and that he had a daughter that was the twins’ age.
She volunteered me to go greet you both that day. Do you remember?”
I shake my head.
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t. There was a lot going on and I only stayed briefly because Ben and Jules came zooming by on their bicycles and Ben lost control, ramming into a tree maybe three or four houses down from you.”
Now that I remember.
“Ah, I see the spark of recognition.”
I huff a laugh. “Yeah, a lanky pre-teen boy with blood running down his face definitely leaves an impression.”
“I’m surprised he walked away with the gash on his head but nothing else. He could have easily broken his nose or his arm.” Hugo tuts. “He was quite distracted by a beautiful young lady that day.”
My scoff is automatic. “No, we didn’t even talk that day. I don’t think he noticed me.”
“Mmm. Maybe… but I do distinctly remember him asking what your name was while we were in the ER waiting room. You’re right, though. He probably didn’t notice you.” Hugo winks, belying his sarcasm.
We go back to swinging silently as I process what he’s saying.
“It’s a strange feeling,” I sigh.
“What’s that?”
“Rewriting my memories. Well, not rewriting necessarily but looking at them from a different perspective, which has always been hard for me.” Hugo, like his son, senses that I have more to say and gives me space to process.
“Ben does this a lot—it shouldn’t surprise me anymore.
I’ll tell him a memory the way I remember it and he’ll let me know how he was actually feeling at the time… ”
“It’s a lot to take in,” Hugo concludes.
“Yeah…” I fiddle with the ring on my finger. “Ben knows that it has been a struggle for me. He’s working on being more straightforward and communicative. I know it’s a lot to ask—”
“It’s not,” he cuts in. “That’s part of being in a partnership.”
Just then, the man in question pops his head out of the front door. “Red, do you need—oh! Hey, Dad. I was wondering where you wandered off to. I’ll let you both…”
Hugo stands, patting me a few times on the shoulder as he does. “No, I was about to head back inside. Come sit with Colette.”
He squeezes his son’s arm on his way inside, and Ben does indeed take his spot. His arm casually drapes around me, tugging me in tight. “Hey, Red,” he whispers, planting a kiss on my temple. “Did you have fun tonight?”
“I’m pissed we didn’t solve the mystery,” I tease—kind of. “But I did have a great time. I can’t believe your family threw all of this together just because.”
“Not ‘just because,’ Cole,” he says. “It’s never ‘just because’ with you.”
I smile to myself, snuggling deeper into the sweet, surprising man next to me. We rock back and forth for so long, I almost nod off. Until I hear a yell coming from inside the house.
“What the fuck?” Ben asks, standing up to rush inside.
Before we can make it there, Jules and Thea come bursting through the front door.
Thea looks calm, serene even as she looks at me and says, “So sorry to leave early! My water just broke.”