Chapter Thirty-nine
George’s wedding day, exactly one week later, dawns sunny and breezy and perfect. When I arrive via city bus bright and early for hair and makeup at the Yacht Club on Monroe overlooking the harbor, George happens to be emerging from her car at the same time.
‘Oh my God, it’s so good to see you out of a hospital gown,’ she says, relinquishing her keys to the parking valet and striding toward me as the brisk wind off the lake blows her hair back.
I open my arms, letting the garment bag with my bridesmaid’s dress slump to the sidewalk, and we clutch each other.
I was discharged Wednesday, and even though we saw each other last night at the rehearsal dinner, George was running around trying to solve some family drama and we barely spoke.
‘So good to see you,’ I say.
She sways me from side to side. ‘Can I just say something? Fuck.’
‘Ditto.’
‘I’m still honestly in shock about everything which is weird because I thought I was unshockable.’
‘You saved my life,’ I say into her shoulder, squeezing her extra tight. ‘I owe you forever.’
‘Love that for me,’ she jokes, but when she pulls out of the hug, her eyes are serious.
She places her hands on my shoulders. ‘Hey. What happened last week was absolutely bonkers crazy, but we survived, and we’ll keep surviving.
And I’m here for it all. The tears, the long talks, all that shit.
’ Her lips twist. ‘At least once the wedding drama is over. And as long as there’s a good Pinot Grigio on hand. ’
‘Thanks, babe.’ I suck in a breath. ‘Today, let’s keep the focus on you, though, ’kay? You’re getting married!’
George puts a hand to her mouth. ‘I’m getting married! Fuck!’
‘Any last-minute concerns? Cold feet? If you need to make an escape, I’m your girl.’
Her eyes soften. ‘No concerns. Let’s do this.’
Then we squee and jump like two middle schoolers.
After that, it’s a flurry of preparations.
The other bridesmaids arrive, and just like last night, they carefully avoid any questions directed at me about everything that’s just gone down, even though they have to be dying of curiosity.
I’m pretty sure George gave them firm instructions not to say a word – and I appreciate that.
Today, I just want to stay in the moment.
The makeup artist does miracles with my various cuts and bruises in their various states of healing and discoloration, the hairdresser sweeps my hair into a flawless updo and all of us cry when George puts on her wedding gown.
Before I know it, we’re sashaying down the makeshift aisle on the terrace as gentle violin music plays, and I’m catching Liam’s eye as I swoop past in my hideous pea soup dress, and I can’t help but notice he’s looking devastatingly handsome and mysterious in his tux and still-healing black eye.
Arjun tears up as George walks down, and so do I, tears coursing down my cheeks and no doubt ruining the beautiful and expensive makeup job, but who cares.
It’s a day full of love and joy and light, and I’m going to let myself feel the fuck out of every moment.
During the dinner, all us bridesmaids are seated with our dates.
As I look out at the sea of tables, I spot Elsie, seated next to Brian the Bro.
Hah! I wonder how that’ll go. Poorly, I hope – for him.
Liam and I don’t have a chance to talk much since speeches are happening as we eat our lobster and tiny fancy vegetables, but we hold hands under the table.
When George’s dad makes me cry yet again, Liam throws an arm around me and pulls me in tight.
After dinner, the sun is going down, and the event room off the terrace is cleared for dancing. As the light fades and the shadows lengthen over the darkening blue waters of Lake Michigan, the DJ gets the party going, and Liam gives me an inquisitive look and jerks a thumb toward dance floor.
‘I need an ibuprofen for that!’ I joke as my entire body protests the very concept of movement.
‘You’re in luck,’ he shouts above the pounding music, pulling a container out of his pocket. We both pop some pain meds and then hit the floor with enthusiasm.
Holy shit Liam is full of energy tonight, and he is coming to the dance floor with full commitment.
We join a dance circle with the other bridesmaids, and Liam must be crazy because he does a body worm in the center of the circle, which – dear God that can’t feel good on his healing ribs.
But everyone loses their minds, and a random wedding guest leans in and says with obvious lust in her voice, ‘So is that your boyfriend?’ and I say ‘Yes’ very loudly.
George checks on me once or twice and leans close to shout, ‘You holding up?’
And I squeeze her hand and shout back ‘Are you holding up?’ and we both grin.
Then she’s swept away by the festivities, doing the rounds to say hi to everyone, which is as it should be, but we do have one moment where we’re both dancing our asses off, sweaty, and our song comes on – Justin Bieber’s ‘Sorry’ – and we squeal and shake it and do our little routine, and at the end she flings her arms around me and I smother my face into her neck and say, ‘I love you,’ and she says, ‘I know, bitch,’ and pinches my ass, and we both laugh, and I know that I am so lucky to have someone like this on my side.
For a whiff of a breath, I even think, maybe it’s all gonna be OK.
After a shit ton of therapy, of course. And Pinot Grigio.
Then, Liam and I go for it again, and ‘Jump Around’ comes on and there’s practically a mosh pit, with Liam at the center.
I get shoved away from him, but I need a little hydration break anyway.
I head back to the table where I left my purse and take a long drink of water.
I’m pulling out my phone to take some pictures when I notice a missed call and voicemail from an unknown number.
Liam is still king of the mosh pit, so I head outside to the terrace to listen to the voicemail.
It’s not quite dark, but all the lights in the yachts have blinked on, and it looks like Lake Michigan is decked in jewels. The terrace is scattered with wedding guests drinking and talking, but I find a quiet corner.
I hit play and a male voice plays back.
‘Hi Margot, this is Brooke Walsh’s husband.
I just wanted to personally thank you for everything you’ve done for Brooke and me.
You may not be aware of this, but I’d offered a ten thousand dollar reward for any tips leading to her recovery.
Obviously you went above and beyond. You actually saved her life.
’ There’s an emotional pause. ‘Brooke and I would like to gift you fifty thousand dollars. We owe you everything. Give me a call so I can get our accountant to cut you a check. And thanks again. God bless.’
Holy shit.
The money I need to beef up my loan application.
Suddenly I notice Liam come out the terrace doors. I’m about to wave at him when I notice he’s on the phone himself, walking briskly to the opposite end of the terrace.
I turn back to the view of the water and the lights.
A breathy wind from the lake sweeps through my hair, disturbing the loose strands around my face.
Damn. Fifty thousand dollars just dropped out of the sky.
This call is one of those life-changing moments.
The coffee shop could actually happen now.
Present Margot might actually become Future Margot. My heart might literally burst.
‘Hey,’ says a voice after a minute – Liam, hands in his pockets, looking adorably mussed from his efforts on the dance floor, the top button on his shirt undone, showcasing a V of sweaty skin.
‘Hey,’ I say as he joins me, facing the lake.
‘Everything OK?’
‘Yeah …’ I let out a disbelieving laugh. ‘It turns out there was a reward for finding Brooke … and it’s a lot of money.’ I swallow, not sure how to say it. ‘I’m kind of rich all of a sudden?’
Liam’s smile is immediate. ‘You deserve it. Maybe I need to reward you too, for saving my life.’
‘Do you have fifty thousand dollars lying around?’ I tease.
‘No, but I have something else you like …’ He gives me a very wicked look, and a little shiver goes through me.
‘Everything OK with your phone call?’ I ask.
‘Yeah … work related. Actually—’ He scans my face. ‘I have an assignment I’m thinking of taking in Cincinnati. It might take me out of town for a couple months.’
I try not to let any disappointment show on my face. ‘OK.’
‘Hey,’ he says softly. ‘You could come.’
‘Like – leave town for months and … live with you?’
He takes a second to consider his response.
‘Maybe this is a good time to tell you something. I like you. I really like you. I—’ He swallows.
‘I want to be with you. This isn’t just casual dating for me.
I – I care about you. I want to fully graduate you out of your frozen lasagna phase and brew you coffee every morning and find the next ceramic squirrel for your collection.
’ He cracks a grin. ‘Sorry. That sounds like a proposal. I just mean—’
I grab his hand, threading my fingers through his in that familiar way.
‘I want to be with you too.’
He exhales, a grin overtaking his face.
‘But I can’t go to Cincinnati.’
‘OK …’ He probes my face.
A tear slips out of my eye, because after all the life-changingly bad shit that’s happened, something good has fallen into my lap, and all of a sudden it feels like my future is unfurling before me.
Exactly one week ago, I was having what I could in fairness call the worst night of my life.
And, seven days later, a dream I’ve had for years is springing to life so damn fast, I’m dizzy with it.
I’m not saying I think everything happens for a reason.
But I am saying that something is happening that I don’t fully understand.
‘Nil Sine Numine,’ I say.
‘Huh?’ says Liam.
‘Your tattoo.’ Another tear squeezes out of my eye, and Liam dashes it away with a soft finger.
‘Sorry, you can’t go with me to Cincinnati because of my tattoo?’
I laugh as more tears spark. ‘I’m saying I have to call my real estate agent.’
‘Your …’
‘I mean – I don’t have a real estate agent. But I need to get one. Because I need to lease a property. I already know the one I want.’ It’s the corner store I saw for rent with Liam, near the salsa bar, the night I realized I wanted to trust him.
He tilts his head.
‘This reward, Liam—’ I shake my head in disbelief.
‘I’m going to launch the coffee shop I’ve been thinking about since I was nineteen.
’ My head is exploding with all the things I’m about to do.
‘I’m going to employ women who need that leg up.
I’m going to offer the best benefits package available.
I’ll get a state-of-the-art espresso machine that I will make you the best coffee of your life on.
Tables and plants and a bookshelf with free books—’ My hands move as if painting the picture.
‘Local musician nights and poetry slams and student art displays – mental health resources and—’ I catch my breath because it’s real, the dream is within my reach.
I can barely breathe for all the excitement that’s shooting through me.
The range of emotions I’ve just gone through is so disorienting.
Grief, and devastation – but this dream is pushing stubbornly up anyway, joyful, strong and fast.
Liam’s expression has transformed. His smile is huge.
‘Can you believe it?’ I say, my voice catching with a sob.
‘C’mere.’ He opens his arms and I crash into his chest and we hold on to each other like our lives depend on it.
He doesn’t say anything about silver linings or reasons or coincidences or blessings, and neither do I. But I know we’re both thinking of it. Trying to make sense of the tragedy and the blessing, and how one brought about the other.
The good stuff doesn’t give the bad stuff a reason.
Saying this is why Zoe had to kill people would be insane.
But maybe there is a special grace at play too in the world, like a force, silently doing its work of creating mercy in the darkness.
Making sure there are good treasures you can pull out of hell as you walk through it.
And maybe the new coffee shop will be the treasure born out of hell.
And Liam. A treasure I may never have found in any other version of the multiverse.
My face is buried in Liam’s jacket. He smells good. So, so good.
‘But you’ll come back,’ I say, my voice muffled, ‘when your assignment in Cincinnati is over.’
He chuckles, low in his chest. ‘I’ll always come back.’