Chapter 2 - The Backyard
On the drive to Diane's, I apologized for everything.
For the traffic on the interstate. For the AC blowing too cold. For my daughter's fingerprints on his window.
Marcus didn't point any of it out. He answered the kids instead. Yes, he'd done commercials. No, he wasn't famous. Yes, he'd once played a pirate at a dental convention.
"Did you have a sword?" my daughter gasped.
"A toothbrush," Marcus said.
The kids lost it. For a few miles the car felt light, almost normal.
Then we turned onto Diane's street, and I saw Grant's truck already in the driveway. Vanessa's white convertible was tucked in beside it.
My stomach dropped so hard I nearly rolled the stop sign.
Marcus noticed. He didn't say relax. He didn't say you've got this. He waited until I pulled to the curb and cut the engine, then asked, "Ready?"
I wasn't. I pulled in a breath anyway. "Yes."
Diane's backyard looked the way it looked every July. The pool lit up chlorine-blue in the sun. Red, white, and blue streamers were knotted along the fence. Kids ran barefoot across the grass while somebody yelled at them to slow down. Smoke rolled off the grill, and the long table sagged under ribs, deviled eggs, cut watermelon, and cupcakes with little paper flags stuck in the frosting.
For one breath, I thought maybe I'd live through this.
Then I saw Grant. He was by the grill with one hand resting on Vanessa's hip. She had on a red swimsuit under a sheer white cover-up, her hair falling in perfect waves. She looked cool in the heat. Untouched by sweat or motherhood or any of it.
Grant hadn't spotted me yet. He was laughing at something his brother said, comfortable inside the life he'd taken from me.
Then he turned. His eyes landed on Marcus first. Then me. The laugh slid off his face.
Diane got to us before he could. "Nora." She pulled me into a hug. "Oh, honey. You look beautiful."
I tugged at the side of the dress. "It's old."
Her arms squeezed once, hard.
Then Grant's voice carried across the patio. "Well. This is interesting."
Conversations thinned out. People pretended not to look while they looked. Grant walked over with Vanessa half a step behind him.
"Nora," he said. His eyes crawled over Marcus. "And who's this?"
Marcus stepped forward, easy and unhurried. "Marcus. Nora's boyfriend."
The word just hung there in the heat.
Grant stared. Then he laughed. "Him?"
Heads turned. He pointed at Marcus, then at me. "Your boyfriend?"
Heat climbed up my neck. Vanessa looked down into her drink, hiding a smile that wasn't hidden at all.
Grant laughed harder. "Come on, Nora. You paid him to show up with you. Anybody can see that."
The yard went quiet. Not all the way. A kid splashed in the shallow end. Ice cracked in somebody's cup. But every adult stopped talking.
I felt every eye land on my face, my dress, my body, my hands. My fingers slipped out of Marcus's.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. I didn't know who I was saying it to.
Marcus took my hand back. "Don't be."
Grant's smile went sharp. "Does the boyfriend package come with hand-holding, or is that extra?"
Diane went stiff beside me. My oldest son stood by the pool with a towel around his shoulders, watching his dad.
Marcus looked straight at Grant. "Does the ex-husband package include humiliating the mother of your kids in front of them, or do you do that one for free?"
Somebody gasped. Grant's throat worked. Whatever he'd loaded up to say didn't come out.
"It was a joke," he finally said.
May you like
Marcus nodded once. "Bold choice."
The quiet after that was worse than yelling.
