CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Regroup
“Did you remember the bug spray?”
“I think they sell bug spray in Maine,” I tell my brother. “Besides, I have packed everything that I can think of. The car is full. If we forgot anything, we’ll buy it in Ellsworth. Relax.” I reach into the backseat of the SUV and pat Jonah. This dog is the reason that I bought such a big vehicle, but without it, we might not have had room to cram the car with all of our summer supplies. Jonah pants excitedly at me. “I know. James is going to drive us crazy.”
“How about liquor? Do they sell that there?” James takes the familiar route to 95N. We’ll take this highway through Massachusetts and then all the way north to Bar Harbor, Maine.
“Very funny.”
“Seriously, my dear sister, what’s with all the travel-size liquor bottles?”
“So what? I had an impulse purchase at the liquor store. You’re driving, I thought I’d have a drink.” I pour the mini gin into my half-emptied bottle of lukewarm tonic water and take a straw from my purse.
“Yeah, or ten, from the looks of it.”
“We have to drive right past Newburyport. I could use a little liquid courage.”
He pats my shoulder. “Fair enough.” James does not know the whole story, but he knows enough to understand that I do not want to drive through the town where Chris is getting married. And on the day that he is getting married. “Look, Blythe, I’m sorry that I got food poisoning and was sick all day yesterday. I know you wanted to leave then, but I can assure you that I would not have been a good travel companion. I’m sorry.”
“I know, I know. It’s not your fault. I just want to get out of Massachusetts as quickly as possible.”
“This really sucks. I’m sorry.”
I turn up the radio. “Just don’t get pulled over.”
“I don’t plan to.”
“What I’m doing is illegal and stupid. So don’t ever drink in a car.”
“I don’t plan to.”
“And you shouldn’t be driving with a passenger who is drinking.”
“I know that!”
“I’m just sayin’.”
I sink into my seat and suck on the straw. It’ll be an hour before we hit the scene of the crime, so to speak, and I might just be good and drunk by then.
“James?” I take another sip.
“Yup?”
I slide on my sunglasses and look out the window. I have dealt with a lot of shit head-on over this past year, and I’m not going to apologize for needing to run now. Getting away from home, hiding out in Maine for the summer … I deserve this. As for getting drunk on the day of Chris’s wedding? It is what it is.
“James, I’m going to get really shit-faced, okay?”
“Have at it. I’m here.”
I love James. I mean, I really, really love him. And I like him. He’s letting me lean on him now, and it helps me feel less alone in my grief over this fucking Christopher Shepherd situation. If I can make it through stupid Newburyport without having some sort of psychiatric episode, then this summer will be really awesome.
My parents would be proud that we are off to Bar Harbor together. I shake open the map of Mt. Desert Island and look at the red circle where our house is. Neither of us remembers too much about it because we only walked though it for a few minutes five years ago. It appears that our house overlooks Frenchman Bay, which I think sounds rather elegant.
James lets me play the music I want as the empty bottles start to accumulate. Every song that I choose is one of my Chris songs, and I can feel that I am drunkenly spiraling into an abyss of heartache. Heartache and anger. I mean, married? Fucking married? What a stupid, absolutely stupid and irresponsible thing to do. I get that Chris needed to establish a safe, easy relationship, one that wasn’t going to challenge him or bring his past to the surface. His father must have done a fucking number on him, on all of them, and on Chris especially. But Chris is smart, in control, and capable of so much more than a superficial relationship. He deserves better, whether that is with me or not.
I wish I knew more about his father, but it’s a topic that has clear boundaries. I have never spoken to Sabin or the others about it beyond a few sentences here and there. The work that they’ve done to move on, to build successful lives, is commendable, and dredging up memories they want to forget is not my place. Chris has made it clear to me that he’s okay, that he has left that part of his life in the past. The Shepherds are a dynamic, loyal, vivacious family. They all know how to love. I see that in how they love one another and how they love me. So why wasn’t Chris able give me more?
I suck down the last of my drink as an early sign for the Newburyport exit flashes before me. It’s only a quarter mile away and we’re hurtling toward it.
“Take the exit! Take the exit!” I yell.
“Blythe. That’s not a good idea.”
“Yes!” I slap the dashboard. “Do it.”
“Yeah, that sounds smart. This is going to go really, really well.”
“Hey! I may be loaded, but I can still understand sarcasm. I’m not kidding. Take me to this fucking ceremony by the sea so I can tell Chris … just, lots of things. I’ll think of them.”
“Oh God. Here we go.” James veers the car to the right, cutting off a van, and we soar off the highway. A quick search on my phone pulls up the location where the ceremony is taking place. I roll down the window and sense that we’re in beach territory now. The air smells different, the greenery is different. Everything is different and everything hurts.
I am not exactly slurring, but I’m close. “Take a right here. And then go straight to the end of the road. The piece-of-crap mansion is going to be there.”
“I wish no one had told you the location or date. Or anything about this.”
“Yeah? Well, me, too, but they’re all big blabbermouths.”
We drive past an SUV that is parked at the start of the pebbled road that leads to the large and elegant yellow home. The scene of the crime, as far as I’m concerned. It’s quiet here today with only a few cars pulled up out front. James pulls over halfway to the house but keeps the car running. I’m sure he’s hoping that my impending diatribe will be short. “I really don’t think you should go in. This is close enough,” he says.
“I’m not going to vandalize the place. Jeez.” Although the idea of egging it is not a bad one. If I had eggs. I stare at the house. Fine, I admit, it’s beautiful. So to compensate I holler, “Look at that stupid wraparound porch with a view of the ocean. And the stupid floral garlands hanging there. Honestly! The place is wretched!” I check my watch. Thirty minutes until the wedding. “I bet everyone is gonna stand outside there.” I point to a grassy area that overlooks the water. “Chris must hate all this clichéd crap. Absolutely loathe it! There will probably be some schmaltzy harp music, and poetry readings, and a grand ol’ speech from her father about eternal love and taking care of his daughter. I will never have harps and poetry and fathers. I will never have eternal love because it’s all bullshit. I don’t get to have that.”
“You shouldn’t be here. Seeing this,” James says. “Don’t do this to yourself.” He squints. “What’s up with this place, though? You said the wedding was supposed to be small, but how come there are no other cars in the lot?”
“Don’t know, don’t care. What’s important is that I’m gonna move on to rum now,” I announce as I mix up rum and fruit punch in a thermos. “How disgusting does that sound, huh? Rum. I hate rum. Nobody should like rum. The only time rum should be consumed is at a tropical resort. And then you have to have those asshole little umbrellas and mini plastic swords that hold fucking fruit chunks. Wait. Do we have any swords?”
“I can’t say for sure, but I’d be surprised if we did.”
“I swear to God that we have swords.” I open the car door. “James, we do! I bought some at the supermarket because I thought it’d be funny to make drinks together and sit outside at the house. I mean, we’re going to have a lot of work to do there, right? So we’ll need beverages. And swords can double as appetizer holder-y things because food always tastes better on a stick.” Holding my thermos, I stumble to the back of the SUV and lift open the hatch. “Seriously. Swords for all!” I start rooting through bags. I know that I packed a bunch of grocery stuff in a blue duffel. My search yields the bag, and I begin to root through it wildly.
James stops the ignition, comes out of the car, and starts repacking everything that I’ve removed.
“AHA! I HAVE LOCATED THE SWORDS!” I scream triumphantly. I hold up the ziplock bag of multicolored drink accessories.
James laughs. “Feel better?”
“I feel zillions better. Now I can drink some rum. And prepare my disruptive speech. Should I start with how the bride is boring and useless or how I think he’s an idiot and a pussy?”
“Wow. Both, you know, really good options. Let’s think for a minute.”
As I am in the process of struggling to open the bag, which in my opinion, is intricately sealed in a mind-boggling way, I hear loud whooping and cheering from behind me. I turn around and watch as a small group of people runs in our direction at top speed.
“James?”
“Yeah?” He is standing with his hands on his hips, looking at what I’m looking at.
“Am I a little drunk or are there some people running?”
“You are definitely a little drunk. And there are people running. Or maybe skipping?”
I lift up my sunglasses. “Fancy runners. Maybe I should wear a tuxedo when I go running. Then maybe I’ll run fast like they do.”
“Yes, probably.” He sighs. “Hey, wait a minute. Isn’t that … Sabin?”
“Oh. No, that person is running too fast to be Sabin. Sabin’s belly is too big.”
But as they get closer, I see that, in fact, Sabin is leading Eric, Zach, Chris, and Estelle in a high-speed race. Even in her long, fitted purple dress and heels, Estelle keeps up with them. “Thank God!” she is hollering over and over.
I lean against the open trunk and drop some swords into my thermos while I watch dumbfounded as they run past us. I am clearly hammered out of my mind.
I look at James. “What the fuck is happening?”
He shakes his head.
I hear a “Holy shit!” and a moment later Sabin is standing in front of me. He is sweating in his suit, even with his tie off and draped around his neck and the top buttons of his shirt undone. There is more hollering, and then Estelle, Zach, Eric, and finally Chris are lined up behind the car. I blink a few times.
I lean in and whisper in James’s ear. “I think you need to take me to the emergency room because I am hallucinating.”
“Blythe!” Sabin bear-hugs me, and I spill rum punch down his back.
“Would you like a mini plastic sword?” I ask.
“I would! I would!” He lifts me up, and I am eye level with Chris.
Chris is handsome beyond words. Flushed cheeks, bright eyes, and a smile that nearly makes me weep. When Sabin finally puts me down, I shuffle backward until I am sitting on the bumper in front of the luggage. I get hugs from the group, except from Chris, who stays awkwardly where he is. I hear James introducing himself to everyone but Sabin, whom he’s already met a few times. I am too busy trying to get my eyes to transmit information properly to my brain to deal with normal social graces.
“What are you doing here?” Estelle asks, her eyes shining with excitement. “I can’t believe this!”
I start giggling and can’t stop. James is rolling his eyes and finally answers for me. “We’re heading up to our parents’ vacation house for the summer. We made a … pit stop. Um, to say congratulations.”
“Noooooo.” I sneer at my brother. “That is entirely inaccurate.” I point at Chris. “I totally did not want to come to your horrible wedding, but I felt an obligation to tell you what an ass you are and that you should definitely, definitely not be getting married. Under any circumstances. But now you look so cute and everything in your suit, and that makes me feel awful.” I assess the others. “Actually, all of you look cute. But Chris looks the cutest. You, my friend, look like a fucking god in that tuxedo.”
Chris smiles at me. “Are you drunk?”
“Yes, I’m fucking drunk,” I snarl at him. “Why wouldn’t I be drunk? Everyone gets drunk at a wedding. Especially your wedding. So screw this. Go off and get married. Have fun. I hope the appetizers give you food poisoning.”
Sabin laughs and takes the thermos from my hand. “Now things are really getting fun.”
“We can toast to you just graduating. Oh. Happy graduation! Yay!” I then lean forward with a wobble. “Watch out. There are mini plastic swords floating in there.”
He takes a swig. “They add a nice flavor.”
“I know, right? I think it’s the green ones that do that. Green swords have superpowers.”
James clears his throat. “I’m sorry. I tried to tell her this wasn’t a good idea.”
“That’s correct!” I shout. “He did. He did do that.” I hiccup violently. “But now I recognize that it’s stupendously tasteless and tacky to break up a wedding.” I turn to my brother. “James. Psst! James. I’m feeling very embarrassed. I’d like to depart this venue.”
“We’re going to get on the road,” he tells the group. “So very sorry about this. Really.”
“There is no wedding,” Eric says quickly. “It’s not going to happen.”
“What?” This information does, in fact, reach my brain.
“She never showed up. In fact, Chris almost didn’t show up! She called him and they talked and decided not to get married.” Eric is dong a shitty job of hiding his happiness.
“She said that she knows he doesn’t love her. And she’s been banging Jim Lancaster for the past six months.” Estelle can hardly talk fast enough to get the words out. “Supposedly she was holding out on sex until she was married, but obviously that wasn’t exactly the case, and she’s been fucking this guy’s brains out.”
“Estelle!” Chris clamps a hand to his forehead.
“Well, it’s true. Good thing you weren’t fucking her, or she might’ve thought you actually loved her.”
“Seriously? The details are not necessary.” Chris is quite clearly mortified.
“Wait a minute. What? I like details. The details are fascinating.” I start laughing again. The alcohol is really doing a number on me. “You haven’t … I mean, all year … Like, nothing between you and her?”
“Tell her the rest,” Estelle says smugly.
Chris looks embarrassed. “Not now, okay?”
We are interrupted by barking from the car. “Ohmigod. Jonah!”
“You have a dog?” Zach asks.
“I do indeed have a dog. And he’s awwwwwesome. You have to meet him.” I shuffle to the side door and let him out. Jonah jumps up and licks my face and then bounds over to meet the new people. Sabin is immediately taken with Jonah and kneels down to pet him.
“So, you’re going up to the house? The one you’ve never been to?” Sabe asks us.
“Yes, we are. We are going to fix it up. Okay, fine, James is going to fix it up, and I am going to serve cocktails with swords.”
“When you sober up, I’m sure you’ll help me.” James has the tolerance of a saint today.
“Maybe. Or maybe I will just stab you with mini swords and make you work faster.”
Sabin stands up and looks at James. “Sounds like it could be a lot to take on.” He pauses and flashes his best Sabin grin. “Want some help?”
I look at Sabin and realize he might be serious. He’s crazy like that. James doesn’t know him well enough to realize that this proposal he’s making has legs.
“You feel bad for me,” James says, with a good-natured smile. Then he gestures at me. “You’ve noticed that my future assistant seems unreliable.”
“I’m not joking,” says Sabin. “I’m totally serious.” He gives each of his siblings a long, slow, searching look. “Let’s all go!”
“Sabin, you can’t just invite us up to their house,” Chris protests. “Stop being crazy.”
“Of course I can. We’re family. Right, Blythe?”
“Yes!” Estelle claps her hands. “Let’s do it! Summer with the McGuires!”
“Estelle!” Chris glares at her.
“You’re serious!” A big smile spreads across James’s face. “Sure, why not? Come up for the summer. All of you. It’ll be a blast!” James is barreling ahead with plans that I am too dizzy to keep up with.
“What are you doing? They probably have shit to do, James,” I point out with a definite slur. “You know, like normal people. Jobs and whatnot. Plans!” I wave my arms around chaotically.
“Well, Sabin did get dumped by the theater,” Estelle announces. “So he’s free.”
Chris frowns. “What do you mean he got dumped? Sabin?”
“Oh, those assholes. I showed up late for a couple things, and they wigged out.”
“Were you planning on telling me about this?” Chris is not happy.
“Maybe, maybe not.” Sabin twirls around ridiculously. “Depends on how much of a prick you’re going to be about it. Let’s focus on the positive here. Now we’ve got a summer vacation with our best girl and her debonair brother!”
“This is impulsive and intrusive, and we’re not doing it.” Chris puts his hands in his pockets.
“It’s not like you have anything to do,” Estelle says rather snidely. “What’s-her-face is going to move her shit out of your apartment by herself, and you don’t have a job anyway. You were just going to be honeymooning and then looking for a job after. C’mon. We’ve got the goddamn money, let’s be honest. I want to have some fucking fun!”
I notice that she and James have made undeniable eye contact. Great. This could be interesting, if my brother can keep up with her.
Everyone stares at Chris while he fidgets. “You guys, they don’t want us crashing—“
“Chris.” I look at him. There is no question. Especially in my drunken state, there is no possibility that I could refuse this opportunity to regroup with the people I care most about. Bullshit between me and Chris aside, this is right. “Get in the car.”
He steps closer and takes me by the arm, walking me away from the group. I trip over the gravel on the driveway a few times, but at least I don’t totally wipe out.
“What’s the problem?” I ask, slurring just a little bit. “I heard you’ve been a little boring lately. Why not try something unexpected? This could be fun.”
“Let’s just think for a minute, okay? Try to sober up for one minute. This is nuts.”
“So what? We’re all a little nuts.”
“You and I haven’t talked in a year. Not since that night.”
“I know. I loved that night. And I hated that night.”
Chris meets my eyes. “I know.” He holds the hair back from his face and sighs. “What are you really doing here, Blythe?”
“The better question is what are you doing here?”
He smiles at me. “Fair enough. I was here about to make a huge mistake.”
“Tell me why it was a mistake.”
He looks away, taking his time before he speaks. “Because I’m not in love with her. I told her that today when we talked. She … she doesn’t have hold of my heart.”
Neither of us says anything.
Alcohol makes this easier. “I didn’t want you to get married. At all. I really didn’t, Chris.”
We step in to each other, and I lean against his chest while he holds me delicately. Oh,God, he feels so good. I am reeling to feel him so close.
“Were you going to break up the wedding?” he asks with a hint of amusement.
“Maybe.” Now I’m embarrassed. “Maybe not. I don’t know.”
“I missed you, Blythe. Jesus, I missed the hell out of you.” He tightens his hold on me. “I don’t want to be away from you, not again, but this summer vacation idea is ridiculous. We can’t just all blow off life and congregate for the summer. Who does that?”
“We do. You said it once. ‘What’s a little risk now and then?’”
“You remember everything, don’t you?”
“I do.”
He strokes my back while he thinks and while I silently will him not to let go.
Finally, after what seems like forever, he shouts to the group, “Okay, people!” I wait, wondering what his final decision will be. He pulls me tighter and yells, “Let’s do it!”
“Hot damn!” screams Sabin, who whoops and runs straight to us. He grabs Chris by the face, and plants a slurpy kiss on his brother’s cheek. “Not getting married is the smartest thing you ever did. But you have to ride next to the smelly drunk girl. Shotgun!”
Things move surprisingly fast once the decision is made. James and I trail the Shepherd siblings back to their hotel and within minutes they’re back outside dragging down their suitcases. Of course, Estelle’s is impressively large. Clearly I’m still drunk, but as we pull out of the hotel parking lot, I feel dizzy and not just from the drinks. It has only taken twenty minutes for the entire course of my summer to change dramatically. Not just mine, either—every one of us is taking this leap together.
I’m happy that Sabin and Chris decided to pile into the car with me and James. Sabin is up front and I am in the middle seat in the back, with Jonah’s front half on my legs and Chris on the other side of me. Eric has good company with Estelle and Zach in the other car. He’s trailing us, driving the big Volvo SUV that was Estelle’s birthday present this year, after Chris apparently freaked out and decided her sedan wasn’t safe enough to drive in the Wisconsin snowstorms.
As naturally as breathing, Chris puts his arm over my shoulders. I slump into him and rest my hand in his lap. He folds our hands together and kisses the top of my head. I close my eyes. The alcohol is probably making this reunion seem falsely normal. Maybe I am too foggy to realize how weird this is. I recognize that we have careened into very new territory, obviously, yet being with him is what I have wanted more than anything, so it feels somehow right. At the moment, I don’t care what this is or what it might become. Above everything else, I have my friends back.
Sabin still has possession of my thermos, and I hear him rattling through my bag of little bottles. “Where are we going, by the way? I don’t even know where this house of yours is.”
James changes the radio station. “Bar Harbor. It’s about five hours from here.”
I feel Chris tense. “We’re going to Maine?”
“It’s okay, Chris.” Sabin’s voice is reassuring. “We’re going to be far north. Don’t stress.”
I rub my face against Chris’s chest. “Why?”
He rubs his thumb over the top of my hand. After Sabin turns up the radio, and he and James are engaged in conversation, Chris tips his head down to mine. “We lived in Maine for a while. I wasn’t planning on going back again.”
Hearing this makes me realize how many details of our lives Chris and I have never shared with each other. There are huge gaps in the basic information I know about him. In retrospect, there are reasons for these gaps. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“The fire was in Maine?” he confirms.
“Yes.”
“For some reason, I always assumed you’d been vacationing with your parents in Massachusetts. The Cape, I imagined. This is the first time that you’ll be there since? And you can deal with it?”
“Yes. I can do this. It’s going to be easier now.” I hold his hand tighter. “How could I not know you’re from Maine?”
“We did live all over, and we were only there for about four years. Nowhere near Bar Harbor, though.” He reaches the hand from my shoulder to scratch Jonah’s ears. “Good dog, huh?”
“He is.”
“A sweet boy for my sweet girl.”
I close my eyes again and rest against Chris. I absolutely adore him. “I’m kinda drunk, and I have to go to sleep, but first I have to tell you a secret.”
I feel him laugh lightly. “Okay, go.”
“You can’t tell anybody.”
“I promise.”
“I tried to run a marathon this year. Actually two.”
“Yeah? That’s amazing.”
“I said tried. I can’t do it. I can do a half marathon, but not a whole fucking one. I tried one outside of Boston last October and one in Virginia in March. I wanted to qualify for the Boston Marathon. That’s the one I want, and I can’t get it. I suck.”
“You don’t suck. I think you’re amazing for even trying.”
“I can’t do the speed, I can’t do the distance. I’m not cut out to be a runner. I make myself get out there anyway, but I’m no good.”
Chris smoothes back my hair. “You’re more than good.”
“Don’t tell anyone. It’s embarrassing.”
“I won’t tell.”
“And another thing. I’m glad you didn’t get married. Even though part of me understood, I am mad at you, and I think you’re a dick, but I’m still glad that there was no wedding. But I’m sorry if you’re upset and if today was supposed to be a good thing for you.”
“I’m relieved.”
“If I weren’t so boozed to the nines, I’d think of something smarter to say.” I inhale deeply. “I missed you. I should be embarrassed to tell you that, but I don’t care. I missed you so much, Chris.”
“I missed you, too, Blythe. Get some sleep.”
I touch my fingers to the necklace of silver letters that rests against the top of my chest. “This is all sorts of fucked up.”
“I know, baby. I know. But the best kind of fucked up.”