definitely not gay. I’m older and wiser now. Okay? Can’t you just be happy for us? I know it’s hard for you to have faith in the world, but I do. And you’re my maid of honor, so you have to stop being so doom and gloom, okay?”
“Willa…”
“And by the way, do you think you could be nice to Nick?”
I sighed. “I’ve been very civilized. We’re even having a drink later on.”
“Oh, that’s great! Thank you, Harper!” She clapped her hands and then hopped down from the counter, adjusted her cleavage so it was higher and more pronounced—she was BeverLee’s daughter, after all. “You’ll see, Sissy. It’ll all work out.” Then she was gone, her face bright and happy despite our conversation.
What would it be like to be so relentlessly optimistic? I couldn’t remember ever having the same lighthearted faith that Willa felt. Not since I was about five, anyway.
I took a hard look at myself in the mirror, almost expecting to see some middle-aged harbinger of doom, Ebenezer Scrooge in drag. Instead, it was just me, the face deemed striking by just about everyone. I stuck my tongue out at my reflection. A few wisps of hair had escaped my clip and were curling, not unattractively, around my face.
My hair was probably my best feature, certainly the one that garnered the most attention. Rich auburn hair shot with coppery highlights from the sun, curling without frizzing, one-in-a-million, pre-Raphaelite hair of an angel which I straightened every day for work. I subdued it once more, secured the clip more tightly and made sure that not one curl escaped.
“Harper, baby doll? You comin’?” BeverLee opened the door. “Oh, sweetie, here. You need a little spray?” She fumbled in her huge vinyl purse for her industrial-sized can of Jhirmack. “Want me to puff you up?”
“I’m good, Bev. Thanks anyway.” With my stepmother chattering away, we went back to join the others.
An eternity later, dinner was over. Dad and BeverLee headed upstairs where, please God, they would have sex and thus relieve me of hearing about their marital woes. The rest of the gang drifted toward the bar. Dennis approached me. “Hey, I’m kinda whipped,” he said. “I’m gonna go upstairs and ice my back, take a few Motrin. We’re going horseback riding tomorrow, I don’t want to miss that.”
“Horseback riding?”
“That’s what they said.”
My stony heart sank a bit more. I was actually a little scared of horses. So dang big, you know? “Well. Do you need anything, Den? Want me to come up, get you settled?”
“Nah, I’m fine. Oh, hey, how you doing?”
I turned to look at the party he was addressing. Great. Some pretty woman giving him the eye.
“Harp, this is Bonnie, she’s a waitress here.”
“Hi, Dennis,” she sighed, practically melting on the spot.
I rolled my eyes. “Lovely to meet you.” I turned back to Dennis. “Feel better, snooky-bear,” I said. “I’ll be up in a little while.”
Dennis grinned. “’Night, Harp.”
“Er. Harp- er . You can say it. It’s only two syllables.”
To my surprise, he gave me a rather lovely kiss. “Good night, Harp er ,” he said. Then he winked at Bonnie and headed up the stairs. I turned around and bumped right into my ex-husband.
CHAPTER SIX
N ICK SMILED. “W ANT TO get that drink now, snooky-bear?” he asked.
I took a deep breath. “You bet, poopyhead.”
“You still like those sickening cosmos?”
“Sue me. I came of age during Sex and the City .”
“There are tables out there,” Nick said, indicating the patio. “Back in a flash.”
I went outside. The sun was setting behind the mountains, and the shadows hung long and blue over the lake, turning the water almost black. The wind had died down, and the flagstones held the moderate warmth of the day. I picked a table—the patio was mostly deserted—wrapped my pashmina a little more tightly around me and stared off at the mountains.
It was so beautiful here, so
“Willa…”
“And by the way, do you think you could be nice to Nick?”
I sighed. “I’ve been very civilized. We’re even having a drink later on.”
“Oh, that’s great! Thank you, Harper!” She clapped her hands and then hopped down from the counter, adjusted her cleavage so it was higher and more pronounced—she was BeverLee’s daughter, after all. “You’ll see, Sissy. It’ll all work out.” Then she was gone, her face bright and happy despite our conversation.
What would it be like to be so relentlessly optimistic? I couldn’t remember ever having the same lighthearted faith that Willa felt. Not since I was about five, anyway.
I took a hard look at myself in the mirror, almost expecting to see some middle-aged harbinger of doom, Ebenezer Scrooge in drag. Instead, it was just me, the face deemed striking by just about everyone. I stuck my tongue out at my reflection. A few wisps of hair had escaped my clip and were curling, not unattractively, around my face.
My hair was probably my best feature, certainly the one that garnered the most attention. Rich auburn hair shot with coppery highlights from the sun, curling without frizzing, one-in-a-million, pre-Raphaelite hair of an angel which I straightened every day for work. I subdued it once more, secured the clip more tightly and made sure that not one curl escaped.
“Harper, baby doll? You comin’?” BeverLee opened the door. “Oh, sweetie, here. You need a little spray?” She fumbled in her huge vinyl purse for her industrial-sized can of Jhirmack. “Want me to puff you up?”
“I’m good, Bev. Thanks anyway.” With my stepmother chattering away, we went back to join the others.
An eternity later, dinner was over. Dad and BeverLee headed upstairs where, please God, they would have sex and thus relieve me of hearing about their marital woes. The rest of the gang drifted toward the bar. Dennis approached me. “Hey, I’m kinda whipped,” he said. “I’m gonna go upstairs and ice my back, take a few Motrin. We’re going horseback riding tomorrow, I don’t want to miss that.”
“Horseback riding?”
“That’s what they said.”
My stony heart sank a bit more. I was actually a little scared of horses. So dang big, you know? “Well. Do you need anything, Den? Want me to come up, get you settled?”
“Nah, I’m fine. Oh, hey, how you doing?”
I turned to look at the party he was addressing. Great. Some pretty woman giving him the eye.
“Harp, this is Bonnie, she’s a waitress here.”
“Hi, Dennis,” she sighed, practically melting on the spot.
I rolled my eyes. “Lovely to meet you.” I turned back to Dennis. “Feel better, snooky-bear,” I said. “I’ll be up in a little while.”
Dennis grinned. “’Night, Harp.”
“Er. Harp- er . You can say it. It’s only two syllables.”
To my surprise, he gave me a rather lovely kiss. “Good night, Harp er ,” he said. Then he winked at Bonnie and headed up the stairs. I turned around and bumped right into my ex-husband.
CHAPTER SIX
N ICK SMILED. “W ANT TO get that drink now, snooky-bear?” he asked.
I took a deep breath. “You bet, poopyhead.”
“You still like those sickening cosmos?”
“Sue me. I came of age during Sex and the City .”
“There are tables out there,” Nick said, indicating the patio. “Back in a flash.”
I went outside. The sun was setting behind the mountains, and the shadows hung long and blue over the lake, turning the water almost black. The wind had died down, and the flagstones held the moderate warmth of the day. I picked a table—the patio was mostly deserted—wrapped my pashmina a little more tightly around me and stared off at the mountains.
It was so beautiful here, so
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