Chapter 21
Kevin
I liked these people the first time I met them. Must’ve been out of my mind. I’m not sure they’re not trying to kill me tonight.
I’d been excited to see them again when Andi told me July and Joe had invited us over for dinner. She didn’t want to ride together though, so I followed the directions she’d sent me to Joe’s place just a few blocks from the restaurant. Knocked on the door and Joe let me in, leading me through the empty downstairs space and up to his second-floor apartment.
“Andi texted that she’s running a little late. But you know everybody here, so.” He waved me down the hall to an open area, sofa to the left, dining table and kitchen to the right.
“Hey, Kevin! Good to see you.” July looked up from chopping something at the counter.
“Nice to be here.” I moved toward her. “Can I help with anyth—”
Before I could finish the words, Angus stepped back into me with his hands full of something he’d just pulled down from a high cabinet over the fridge. Caught me hard in the jaw with his elbow, knocking me off-balance. I took a step sideways…and there was Rose, holding a glass of red wine, which sloshed all down the front of me. Nipples to crotch. A crimson tide across my best sweater and the khakis I’d actually ironed, trying to make a good impression.
“Angus, ya big silly!” Rose burst out. “Careful! You’ll hurt him!” She gripped my arm. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I swear, that man forgets how much bigger and stronger he is than everybody else.”
What? I met Angus’s eyes over her head. He’s only got a couple of inches on me. I’m the second biggest person here, not some frail little kid.
“Sorry, dude. You okay?” His voice was gruff.
“I’m fine. No worries.”
July passed me a towel. “That can’t be comfortable. And it’s gonna stain. We should get some club soda on that. You got anything else to wear?”
“Yeah, in the car, if you don’t mind me wearing gym clothes.”
I went back out to my car for my gym bag, changed in the bathroom, and doused the stains with the bottle of club soda Joe handed me. Draped my good clothes over the shower door until after dinner.
July commandeered me as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom. “Hey, I want to show you something. It’s a drink Andi loves when we go out together, and I’ve figured out how to make a mocktail version. Thought you should know how to make it for her.”
I was cool with that, for the first twenty minutes. But that damn drink had at least forty-five ingredients and a hundred and twelve steps, most of them unnecessary as far as I could tell, and July was the pickiest darn taskmaster I’ve ever had breathing down my neck. Seriously, is there even such a thing as “cutting a lemon against the grain”? And why would that be such a huge no-no? She made me redo it three times, insisting, “Pay attention, Kevin. This is important!”
I thought surely she had to be joking—I sure wanted to laugh—but she never cracked a smile so I didn’t roll my eyes or talk back or offer any response except a meek, “Yes, ma’am.”
Joe and Andi were just entering the room as I finally managed to put the garnish on to July’s satisfaction.
“You look great. As always.” Joe was close beside Andi, his fingers curving around her shoulder.
What? He unhanded her as they got to me, but damn, that contact lasted longer than any she and I have had since our hookup.
He was right, though. She’s gorgeous, even in a boxy shirt that hides her shape. She always has that glow and that fire in her eyes that draws me right to its flame.
“Hi.” She gave me a smile—no touch—as we stood a little apart from the others.
“Got a surprise for you.” I held out the drink with a careful flourish. Don’t need any more beverage-clothing mishaps. “July taught me to make your favorite drink as a mocktail.”
“Oh.” Andi took a big step back, hand on her tummy. “I…don’t think I’d better. Grapefruit juice hasn’t been agreeing with me lately.”
“Bummer,” said July, suddenly beside me. “Oh well. I’ll drink it.” She lifted it from my hand and swept away with it.
I watched her go, wishing I’d at least taken a sip so I’d know what Andi’s favorite drink tastes like.
I was just about to ask Andi how her day had been when Rose whistled.
“Whoa, Kevin, nice legs!”
So much for a good impression. Because yep, I was standing there, useless, drinkless, pants-leg-less, the only one in wrinkled gym clothes while the rest of them wore nice slacks and shirts or sweaters.
“Rose, don’t embarrass him.” Andi shot me a soft, amused smile.
“Hey, I love me a himbo.” Rose actually winked.
So here I am, looking sloppy, hoping the red wine on my underwear isn’t going to soak through and make itself visible on my thin gym shorts. I’m surrounded by well-dressed near strangers, one of whom elbowed me in the face, another of whom had his hands on my woman—okay, that’s untrue and inappropriate of me—while my ruined clothes decorate the bathroom and someone else calls me stupid.
“What’s a himbo?” July straightens as she closes the oven, looking from me to Rose.
Rose’s expression falters a little. “It’s…a big, good-looking guy…”
“Who’s not real bright,” I finish for her.
“Rose!” July says, just as Rose mutters, “I didn’t mean that, exactly…” and Andi nudges me with her elbow, saying, “How did you know that?”
I rub my sore jaw. Shrug. “Got caught in the middle of one too many debates between my mom and my sisters about romance novels.” No big deal. It’s not like other people haven’t assumed I’m an airhead jock before. I just…really didn’t want these people to think it.
This night isn’t shaping up to be as fun as I’d hoped.
We stand around making conversation for a few minutes, and I try to be unobtrusive about checking my shorts for soakage. Finally Joe says, “Okay, these are about done. Everybody fix your plates.”
I’m at the back of the line behind Andi, so I lean forward, try to breathe in her scent without being creepy, and say softly in her ear, “How you doing? You have a good day?”
She turns her head enough to brush my nose with her soft cheek and it’s all I can do not to press a kiss there. “I’m good. It was pretty smooth.” She blinks up at me, her dark eyes warm. “How about you?”
“I’m good now.”
We fill our plates with salad and some kind of heavenly-smelling cheesy potato dish and some spicy beans I can add to my new-to-me list, and then everybody shuffles past Joe, who serves up the juiciest, most mouthwatering-looking pork chops I have ever seen in my life. Between Andi a breath away and that glorious meat, the night is definitely looking up. I watch Rose go by with her loaded plate, and then Angus, and then July, and then he’s placing the plumpest cut of all on Andi’s plate with a soft smile and a wink.
What is it with these folks and winking?
And then it’s my turn and he serves me a wizened little shoe sole of a chop that looks like it might have been left on the grill from last week. “These, uh, smell great,” I say, and try not to cry.
Is it possible Joe’s got a thing for Andi? And he thinks Andi and I are dating? I mean, I can’t blame him, she’s amazing, but it would totally suck for July, who’s clearly in love with him.
Maybe also for me, because I have no idea how Andi feels about him.
On the other hand, I’m pretty sure Andi would be pissed at anybody who did July wrong.
Joe slides around me, the last big, juicy pork chop on his own plate, to sit at the table with July. And somehow I’m not at all surprised when it turns out there’s only seating for five: three on the couch and two at the dining table. Who only has two chairs at a dining table that could seat six?
I try not to hear my mom and grandma’s voices expressing horror at this situation. Maybe manners are different in North Carolina. Maybe they’ve been a group of five for so long they just forgot to allow for another person. Or…maybe they’re sending me a pointed message that I’m not really welcome—that they don’t think I’m good enough to be hanging around Andi.
I’m not sure I can argue with that.
I try not to think about it as I settle on the floor beside her end of the couch. I stay quiet. Listen to the conversation around me as I eat. I’m actually able to get a few bites of meat from my chop, and the flavor is excellent, as is the rest of the meal.
And after she gives that little sigh I know means she’s full, Andi lays her fork across her plate and scratches her fingers through the hair at the back of my head, her voice husky as she says so low only I can hear, “You’re being an awful good sport.”
Whatever that means.
Then her eyes crinkle with a smile just for me, and the rest of the night doesn’t matter at all.
***
Andi
The group chat, which July creatively named Stress Test, is blowing up by the time I get home.
July: Well what’d y’all think?
Joe: …
Angus: …
Rose: That poor sweet man
Angus: Thought he was gonna cry when you handed him that hockey puck, Toothpick
Joe: Bout killed me too
July: I knew it would! You’ve never served such a bad piece of meat in your life
Rose: [snort]
July: Rose!
Joe: Oh like it didn’t kill your Hospitality Queen soul to see him sit on the floor while you were in a chair, July
Joe: And you, Rosie… First you drown him in wine then you treat him like a little baby, then you call him stupid—daaaaaaaaamn! Brutal.
July: She understood the assignment for sure
Rose: I was awful
Rose: Please tell me we can tell him the truth soon so I can apologize
Rose: and maybe buy him some new clothes if those stains don’t come out
Angus: Now y’all have done it—Rosie’s crying
Andi: Are you freaks sitting there side by side talking to each other by TEXT
July: …
Joe: …
Angus: …
Rose: …
Rose: well not like all FOUR of us. I’m with Angus and July is with Joe
Angus: I can’t believe he didn’t go down when I hit him. Clipped him a lot harder than I intended
July: Dude’s got excellent balance
Rose: Sturdy—almost as sturdy as Angus
Andi: He did good, right? No red flags?
Joe: …
Angus: …
Rose: …
July: …
Andi: I thought he did good. He was really sweet to me, I thought
Rose: I thought so too Andi
July: Me too
Joe: I didn’t see any red flags
Angus: Me either. He did good, Andi
Andi: …
Andi: …
July: Andi, you there?
Joe: You okay?
Rose: You’re crying too, aren’t you
Andi: shut up—just hormones
Angus: congratulations btw
Joe: yeah
July: love you, girl
And then I am crying. For that big, sweet man. And for me. And for our baby.
The phone rings a second later. It’s July and Joe. They’ve got me on speaker.
July goes first. “How you doing, really?”
“Good.” I dab my nose with a tissue from my nightstand, hoping they won’t hear me sniffling.
“Does this ease your mind any?”
Pretty much, but I have to make sure their instincts match mine. “Joe, you didn’t see anything concerning?”
“Naw, Andi, there is nothing about that guy that in any way reminds me of my dad.” His voice is gentle. “He didn’t get tense or red-faced or grim… Didn’t get nasty—or seem like he wanted to get nasty—with anybody. Didn’t seem to blame any of our assholery on you.”
I feel again Kevin putting his arms around me and burying his face in the curve of my neck in a long, sweet, totally unexpected good-night hug just before opening my car door for me. “He didn’t seem to want to take anything out on me, either.”
“His expression gets soft whenever he looks at you.” July again.
I draw in a long breath. “I think maybe it’s time for me to trust him a little further.”
“Time to date him?” July’s voice sounds almost hopeful.
“Not that—not just yet. But I think maybe I’ll let him know where I live. See how he handles that information.” Not going to leap too far too fast. I don’t remember my own father, but he destroyed my family. The damage he did took me and Gram years of therapy to work through. Nobody wants that for their kid. I know better, so I have to do better.
“Oh, he hasn’t even been to your house?”
“Nope.” Baby steps. I am my Gram’s cautious granddaughter. Cautious and sensible…most of the time.