I won.
The round of golf, I mean. I came in ten strokes below everyone else. It’s the first time I’ve ever won a round of golf. I’ve already come to the conclusion that it has absolutely nothing to do with my skill, and everything to do with my guilt.
I never was much for golf growing up. Too preppy. Too much of a “rich guy’s sport.” I always preferred rugby. Gritty. Dirty. Physical.
I remember the time I taught Lia to play rugby. Of course, Alex would never play. It was too “barbaric” for her. But not Lia. She jumped right in without fear. And she was pretty good. I offered to play the two-hand touch variety with her, but she wouldn’t have it. She wanted to tackle and everything.
Back then, she was a girl. An awkward tween in oversized gym shorts. Now, of course, the idea of tackling her on the warm sand makes me shift awkwardly in the passenger seat of Jack’s car and check the front of my shorts.
“Grayson,” Jack’s voice pulls me out of my reverie.
“Yeah?”
His hands are gripped around the steering wheel and he’s staring intently at the road. “I want to say something to you and I know it’s not going to come out right but I feel like it still needs to be said.”
I suddenly feel my throat constricting. “What’s that?” I squeeze out.
He is silent for so long, I begin to squirm in my seat.
Does he know? How could he know? Did he hear something from upstairs last night?
Jack takes a deep breath. “I want to tell you how happy I am that you are marrying Alex.”
His voice breaks as he gets the words out. “You’re good for her. I’ve always thought that. I know you guys have had your rough spots. But Alex needs someone like you. Especially after...” he bites his lip and I glance at him, immediately noticing the pools of moisture coating his eyes.
“After Marianne left,” he finishes with effort.
I nod silently, unsure what to say. If anything was happening below the belt a few seconds ago, it’s long gone now.
“She’s had a rough time with it,” Jack goes on.
“I know.” Great, now my voice is breaking.
Jack blows out a gust of air as he blinks rapidly. “You’re so steady. So dependable. She needs that right now.”
My stomach churns like it’s preparing to regurgitate the contents of my breakfast.
That’s all I ever wanted to be.
Dependable.
Steady.
There.
For my mom. For Alex. For me.
Someone who wouldn’t leave. Who wouldn’t bolt in the middle of the night. Who wouldn’t leave a mountain of rubble and heartbreak in his wake.
I’ve spent twenty-five years making sure I was that person.
And not the other kind.
The kind who does what I did last night. Who makes a mess. Who breaks things.
“Thank you, Jack,” I say, even though my vocal cords sound like they’ve been tossed in a blender. “That means a lot.”
He flashes me a smile and reaches across the console to pat my arm. Like the father I never had. Who never cared enough to stick around.
“Well, okay, then,” he says thickly.
I realize just then how hard it was for him to tell me this. How hard it is for Jack to express his feelings.
Maybe that’s why Marianne left. Who knows.
We pass through town and I catch sight of La Bella Vita on the left. The parking lot is empty except for one car: Lia’s. Alex must have taken her to get it from Hank’s this morning.
Did she tell her why it was left there in the first place?
Did she admit I’m the one who picked her up?
But the bigger question is: Why is Lia’s car at La Bella Vita now?
I thought they were supposed to be dress shopping. I glance at my watch. It’s almost one o’clock.
I know I don’t know much about wedding dress shopping, but if it’s anything like other kinds of shopping there’s no way it would be over this soon.
And that’s when the walls of Jack’s car feel like they’re starting to close in on me.
Lia told her.
They fought.
She came here.
It’s all over.
Stop! I command myself. You don’t know that.
“You know what,” I find myself saying aloud, “I just remembered I have to pick up a few things in town. Can you just drop me on Main Street? I’ll call Alex to pick me up later.”
“No problem.” Jack pulls the car off to the side, a block away from the restaurant.
I say thank you and get out, waiting for him to pull away before I turn around and head toward the restaurant.
Enough is enough. Lia and I have to talk about this. Like adults. We’re not in high school anymore.
I have to make this right. I can’t leave this mess for someone else to clean up. Or worse, for no one to clean up. That’s not the kind of guy I am. I have to deal with it.
Before it gets worse.