Chapter 8 #2
Hands free again, I wrench my gaze from the heartwarming image of Bethany with the baby and check my phone again to finally see a message from an unsaved number sent about five minutes ago.
Unknown
I’m sorry, honey. I broke my phone, then something held me up. I’m leaving now.
I’m relieved and frustrated at the same time. I call, but get sent to voicemail.
Unknown
He’s borrowing my phone. He’ll drop me off then head to your place.
Paige
Please let him know to come straight home. He doesn’t need to get the meat anymore.
Unknown
I frown and look up to the worried expression on Bethany’s face.
I paste on one of my bright smiles to chase that expression away.
“Would you mind hanging with the little cutie while I do my hosting duty?” Her worry remains, but she nods, unable to contain the joy she gets from holding the babbling baby boy.
I busy myself by moving to the different members of the party, checking in on the little Bright and his glowing keeper periodically, until the sound of more vehicles arriving pulls my attention to our front yard.
Trevor and Josh have both arrived, and I watch as my husband walks past my employer and goes immediately into the house without a glance in the direction of our party or me.
Josh, on the other hand, comes around the side and goes up to Carter, who has become a co-host of sorts—which I find hilarious.
I watch him nod, turn to Becky for a quick kiss, then follow Josh back out front to the cars.
I rush over to the food table to prep the space for our main attraction to finally arrive. The vultures eye me from around the party, and I know that I have a limited amount of time to organize before they converge and pick it to pieces.
The smell reaches me before his arms. “Sorry I’m late, baby,” he says into my barely tamed mane of hair.
I scramble out of his hold, turn around, and sniff him.
My nose wrinkles at the vanilla rose wafting off of him.
“What is it?” He looks legitimately confused, and I swallow my frustration.
There’s a crowd gathered, and nobody needs to be in my business.
I already know he gave her a ride home. Even after our conversation. Now, I know what she smells like. The unease slithers down my spine. I open my mouth to say who-knows-what when Carter’s carefree voice interrupts the tense moment.
“Where do you want this, Paigy-Poo?” I dismiss my feelings in an effort to remain in charge of our party and peek around Trevor.
“You know I hate that name, Carter,” I tease him, then usher him past me to the table.
He places the first two giant containers of the delicious barbecue pork and brisket I promised everyone.
As Josh nudges past me to put the second batch down, I hear Trevor grunt from where he stands frozen beside me.
I shoot him a questioning glance, but his eyes are on the man doing the job he said he would do … but didn’t.
Behind Josh is the perfectly prepared table, finished just in time to be completely demolished by our guests.
Satisfaction runs through me with how well it all has come together.
I reach out and squeeze Josh and Carter’s arms, who both give me big smiles.
“Thank you both for all of your help. You really didn’t have to. ”
Josh squeezes my arm in return. “Anytime, Paige. I’m always happy to help out when you—”
Carter barrels into me, giving me a big hug that lifts me into the air. “Of course, Paigy-Poo!”
“Carter!” I squeal, wriggling in his hold. From over his shoulder, my husband stands with his arms crossed, glowering at the display. Josh slides past me and toward his child, who is currently bouncing in Bethany’s gentle arms.
I’m hit with the smell from Trevor again when he jostles Carter. “Alright, go get your own woman.”
“He’s fine!” Becky calls from where she’s in line for the food. She waves her empty plate at us. “Just give him back when you’re done.”
Carter chuckles as he finally puts me down with one final squeeze. “Let me know if you need anything else. I’m going to get in line to eat some of this awesome food. Thanks for inviting us!”
“When did so many people get involved with our Fourth of July?” Trevor sidles up to me when I walk away from the table back to where Bethany is now standing by her boyfriend. Time for some recon.
I can’t stop the wrinkle in my nose.
Bobby has his arm slung over Bethany’s shoulder as he whispers something to her.
She nods and adjusts her shorts, tugging them down.
She says something back to him, but he’s already watching us approach.
His eyes dip down the length of my body, and Trevor stiffens next to me. “Does he always look at you like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like he wants to bend you over the nearest table.”
“Trevor William!”
He shrugs next to me. “Just saying. Hey, there, Bethany, Bobby.” Trevor reaches out a hand for a shake from Bobby, then Bethany. I watch her shoulders fall with the interaction, but Trevor is already trying to move on.
I stand my ground. “Thank you for coming today! How is your summer so far?” I shake Bobby’s hand, too, but pry my hand out when he holds it too long to give Bethany a hug.
“It’s going great. Trevor and I are both vying for the same position, so some friendly competition at the workplace.”
“Super friendly.”
“And you, Bethany? How’s your summer going?”
Both men look to Bethany, who turns a bright red. “Oh, well—uh. I’m working with Mother on the town council. I’ve been helping plan and schedule—”
“We’re also going on a special trip soon,” Bobby interrupts, then puts his arm back around her waist. “I haven’t hammered down a date yet, but once things start rolling at work, I’ll be able to treat this girl to a great vacation.”
“Oh, yeah? Where to?” Trevor pushes, and this entire interaction is making me regret coming over here. I wanted to get a sense of the couple together. Another waft of that smell from my husband makes my head swim. Shit, I’m going to puke.
“I’m going to check on something inside. I’ll be right back.” I rush through the backyard and through the door. I get to the toilet just in time to lose what little I’ve eaten today.
The rest of the evening is a rinse and repeat of that interaction.
I talk to a few people, I dismiss myself, I throw up.
Trevor reappears nearly every time I do.
Around eight thirty, I’m exhausted, nauseous, and confused when Krista saunters through our backyard to the food table.
She’s wearing tiny jean shorts and a red, white, and blue shirt tied high on her waist. Her blond hair is in a high ponytail, and she looks like every beer commercial’s model come to life.
There’s a stir in the backyard at her entrance, and to my extreme discomfort, I see Trevor and Bobby both watching her.
I’m standing with Becky as Carter helps tidy some of the food items.
“Who the hell is that?”
“Hmm?” I play dumb. I don’t want to answer the question.
She nods to Krista. “Independence Day Barbie making a tray of sad food.”
“Sad food?”
Becky lifts her chin in her direction. “See? All veggies and fruits. Do you think she wants some meat? We can get some for her from the fridge?” She turns to the house, but I place my hand on her arm.