letting it rest heavily. If anyone else had done this—any of the other older men—it would have felt like a drunken gesture. But from Daniel it felt measured, even protective. When he excused himself to greet his guests, I sat down on the built-in bench, while Ladd stayed standing, his hand resting on the rail behind me.
“How come you didn’t want to announce it?” he said.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.” And then, remembering my previous explanation, I said, “I want to tell my mother first. And anyway, it feels weird. All that attention.”
Ladd nodded and sipped his wine, squinting out at the increasingly crowded lawn. “Look,” he said. “Eli Moss is here. There’s his mother, too.”
I sat up for a better view. All I had to do to find Eli was let my eyes follow Daniel through the crowd. He shook Eli’s hand and touched his shoulder, and then hugged the tall, blonde woman standing next to him—the curly-haired woman who’d picked Eli up from the ferry. Eli wore the same summer uniform as the other men. I guessed his mother had picked out his red tie and probably knotted it for him. Words he’d said years ago popped into my head:
We had this girl who used to take care of us during the summer, Sylvia, she was so great with animals.
Daniel’s late wife had loved Eli, and Charlie, too. It made them and Ladd sort of cousins.
I looked back at Ladd. He said, “Daniel always invites them. I don’t know why they weren’t here last year. Funny, we would have found out then. That we both knew them.”
“Funny,” I echoed. “I think I’ll go say hello.”
We stepped down off the deck and partygoers closed in around us. One of them stopped Ladd as we made our way toward Eli, but I continued until another break in the crowd. The rainy day had morphed into a spectacular night. The temperature hovered a few degrees above cool. The wind blew just softly enough to seem romantic—the leaves on the trees fluttering, along with hems and stray wisps of hair. The grass felt slightly damp as I walked across it, toward Eli, who hadn’t yet seen me. From this distance, I marveled at how
normal
he looked, and wondered if that impression would burst as I got closer. Whatever Eli’s state, it made me happy to have someone there I knew, not because of Ladd or his family. I’d had a life before these people.
“Brett,” a voice said as I approached the next section of crowd.
If I’d taken one more step I would have physically bumped into him. Him, Charlie, the only man at the party not wearing a coat and tie, grinning at me like I was something he’d misplaced, and nothing in the world could possibly be happier than at last, after all this time. Finding me.
I REMEMBER THIS MOMENT two different ways, depending on my mood. One way, I’m an immature and shortsighted girl who’s mad at her boyfriend but not strong enough to say so, my fragile ego still not repaired from Charlie’s rejection. I care so little for morals and responsibility that I ignore the diamond ring on my finger, the future I’ve accepted from the good man who sincerely loves me. And will-o’-the-wisp Charlie, thoughtless and charming, sizing me up because he hasn’t seen any more interesting girls at the party.
AND THEN THERE’S THIS other way. The way, if I’m honest, I remember the moment most often, even now, knowing where it all led. I remember a single second where the sea of dark and pale blue, of summer paisley and Lilly Pulitzer pastels, fades away. It’s as if every other person at the party suddenly transforms into a thin mist of smoke—leaving
him
standing there, not only without a tie but wearing blue jeans and a white-and-red-striped shirt with a Nehru collar. Charlie, with curly blond hair and eyes the precise color of the sky that frames him. But most important smiling—at me—in a way that contains every private joke I’ve ever wanted to have with him. If I see arrogance in that smile—a
how can you help loving
“How come you didn’t want to announce it?” he said.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.” And then, remembering my previous explanation, I said, “I want to tell my mother first. And anyway, it feels weird. All that attention.”
Ladd nodded and sipped his wine, squinting out at the increasingly crowded lawn. “Look,” he said. “Eli Moss is here. There’s his mother, too.”
I sat up for a better view. All I had to do to find Eli was let my eyes follow Daniel through the crowd. He shook Eli’s hand and touched his shoulder, and then hugged the tall, blonde woman standing next to him—the curly-haired woman who’d picked Eli up from the ferry. Eli wore the same summer uniform as the other men. I guessed his mother had picked out his red tie and probably knotted it for him. Words he’d said years ago popped into my head:
We had this girl who used to take care of us during the summer, Sylvia, she was so great with animals.
Daniel’s late wife had loved Eli, and Charlie, too. It made them and Ladd sort of cousins.
I looked back at Ladd. He said, “Daniel always invites them. I don’t know why they weren’t here last year. Funny, we would have found out then. That we both knew them.”
“Funny,” I echoed. “I think I’ll go say hello.”
We stepped down off the deck and partygoers closed in around us. One of them stopped Ladd as we made our way toward Eli, but I continued until another break in the crowd. The rainy day had morphed into a spectacular night. The temperature hovered a few degrees above cool. The wind blew just softly enough to seem romantic—the leaves on the trees fluttering, along with hems and stray wisps of hair. The grass felt slightly damp as I walked across it, toward Eli, who hadn’t yet seen me. From this distance, I marveled at how
normal
he looked, and wondered if that impression would burst as I got closer. Whatever Eli’s state, it made me happy to have someone there I knew, not because of Ladd or his family. I’d had a life before these people.
“Brett,” a voice said as I approached the next section of crowd.
If I’d taken one more step I would have physically bumped into him. Him, Charlie, the only man at the party not wearing a coat and tie, grinning at me like I was something he’d misplaced, and nothing in the world could possibly be happier than at last, after all this time. Finding me.
I REMEMBER THIS MOMENT two different ways, depending on my mood. One way, I’m an immature and shortsighted girl who’s mad at her boyfriend but not strong enough to say so, my fragile ego still not repaired from Charlie’s rejection. I care so little for morals and responsibility that I ignore the diamond ring on my finger, the future I’ve accepted from the good man who sincerely loves me. And will-o’-the-wisp Charlie, thoughtless and charming, sizing me up because he hasn’t seen any more interesting girls at the party.
AND THEN THERE’S THIS other way. The way, if I’m honest, I remember the moment most often, even now, knowing where it all led. I remember a single second where the sea of dark and pale blue, of summer paisley and Lilly Pulitzer pastels, fades away. It’s as if every other person at the party suddenly transforms into a thin mist of smoke—leaving
him
standing there, not only without a tie but wearing blue jeans and a white-and-red-striped shirt with a Nehru collar. Charlie, with curly blond hair and eyes the precise color of the sky that frames him. But most important smiling—at me—in a way that contains every private joke I’ve ever wanted to have with him. If I see arrogance in that smile—a
how can you help loving
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