volumes. Claire’s back was to me, butfrom her stiff posture and jerky movements, it was clear she was angry. Roni, however, was not. She listened to Claire with a mocking smile and laughed at something Claire said. Claire raised her hand and I had a sudden thought that she meant to strike Roni. A couple danced between us, obscuring my line of vision. When they moved out of the way, Claire and Roni were gone.
Next to me, I noticed Avery and Millie staring out at the spot where the two women had been. Avery’s face was pained; Millie’s was etched with disgust. Wondering if it could have been Millie’s footsteps I’d heard earlier today in the hallway, I snuck a quick look at her shoes: white with rubber soles. I doubted they had made the loud footsteps.
Giving me little more than a mechanical good night, Avery signaled to Millie that he was ready to leave. I sat at the empty table for another five minutes before pushing my chair back and going in search of Peter. Heading toward the closest drink tent, I craned my neck over the thick crowd. I soon found him. He was standing away from the tent, partially hidden by the loping branches of a large magnolia tree. Chloe stood next to him. To steal a quote from Groucho Marx, if she were standing any closer, she’d be behind him. Peter said something and Chloe let out a peal of laughter. Gently placing a slender hand on his chest, she leaned in to whisper something in his ear and he laughed in response.
My mind reeled. The summer I was twelve, my parents enrolled me in a soccer camp, ostensibly because studies had shown that girls who participated in sports did better in school. The real reason, however, was I was overweight due to the recentacquisition of an Easy-Bake Oven, which I liberally used to sooth myself about two other recent acquisitions: thick glasses and a mouthful of braces. During one of the camp’s torture sessions, also known as scrimmages, I fell and was kicked in the stomach. Painful as a pair of cleats smashing into your gut can be, it was nothing to how I felt seeing Chloe lean in toward Peter, her hand on his broad chest.
Suddenly aware that I was gawking like a wounded schoolgirl, I quickly turned and headed back for the table before they saw me. I know I should have calmly joined Peter and Chloe, but I simply couldn’t. There was no way I could trust my emotions. I had a long, painful history with cheating boyfriends. The last guy I’d dated had been seeing at least two other women behind my back. I had been made a fool of too many times before to be calm now.
Thankfully, Harry grabbed me just then for a dance, saving me from having to sit at the table alone and brood. But as much as I enjoyed both Harry’s conversation and dancing, it did not escape my notice that we had danced three songs before Peter finally reappeared.
The last guest left just before one A.M . Exhausted and yet radiant, Bridget and Colin disappeared soon after to their room downtown at the Jefferson Hotel. Colin’s parents left a few minutes later. They were staying at the same hotel but wanted to give Colin and Bridget their privacy.
Inside the house, I sank into one of the couches in the living room and pried my shoes off my swollen feet. Claire and David were also in the room. From the looks of it, Claire was trying—withoutmuch success—to get David to go to bed. She shot me a distracted smile before turning her attention back to David.
Peter came in and sat down next to me. “Has something happened? You seem upset,” he said in a low voice.
I turned to face him, firmly reminding myself of my resolve to remain composed. “Upset? Me? What a funny question. Why should I be upset? Is there any reason I should be upset?” I abruptly snapped my mouth closed. I can be really smooth sometimes.
He opened his mouth, looked at me closely, and then shut it. Glancing over at Claire and David, he said, “I don’t know. You just seem upset.”
I didn’t want to talk
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