~ 12 ~
“I cannot believe you made me get up at five in the morning on a holiday,” I said, not for the first time.
Julie just grinned at me and rang the bell. “Someone’s gotta make the donuts.”
Charley opened Daniel’s door. Even with no makeup, hair tousled, and in worn PJs, she looked glamorous. And she smelled like sex.
Even Julie picked up on it. “Were you just having sex?” she accused.
Charley gave us a lazy feline smile and held the door open. “You want to pull us out of bed at the buttcrack of dawn on a holiday, you get what you get.” Her gaze narrowed on me. “How are you, Marcia?”
Helping Julie wrestle the cart of goods—enough to feed a small third-world country—through the door, I blinked at Charley’s tone. “I’m just fine, Charlotte. How are you?”
She waved a hand at me, saw something on her nail and frowned at it. “We need to talk.”
“Not on Thanksgiving,” Julie declared. “No fighting today.”
Charley transferred the frown to her. “I said talk, not fight.”
“Is it soup yet?” Daniel asked, coming down the hall, wearing a brown robe over red flannel PJs. He should not look so adorable, but he did. Charley clearly thought so, too, because she got that goofy, melty smile and straightened his lapels.
“Dinner goes on the table at noon,” Julie informed him. “Guests arrive around eleven. Maybe you two should just go back to bed.”
“No,” started Charley, “I can—”
“Okay,” Daniel said cheerfully, swooping Charley up like a bride. She huffed in protest, but started laughing when he kissed her. “Call us if you need anything.” Then he tossed a grin over his shoulder. “Or, rather, don’t.”
Julie watched them go, shaking her head. “Those two scare me. I’d be jealous if they weren’t so damn perfect for each other.”
I was busy setting bags and boxes on the counter. “And besides, you have Steve. He’s coming today, right?” I hadn’t met him yet.
Julie made a face. “Meh. I told him not to bother. He’d agreed grudgingly anyway. Was much more het up to have some pot-smoking, pizza-bingeing fest with his homeboys anyway.”
“Oh, honey.” When had that happened? I’d been too wrapped up in my own affair. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. He wasn’t anything special. I think we maybe should have a system for scoring longer-term. He was barely a four-pointer and shedding them fast. I wish I’d spotted it sooner.” She shrugged. “You know what I mean. Not the One, for sure.”
“Do you think there is such a thing?” I opened the fridge to load in the perishables. There was a lot of room in there.
“Who are you and what have you done with my friend Marcia?”
“Oh, ha-ha. I’ve just been thinking.”
“Sorry lunch with your mom sucked so badly. Help me here.”
“It’s not that.” Between the two of us, we heaved the ginormous turkey into one side of the double sink. “Well, it’s kind of that. She’s just so…judgmental, particularly of anyone who’d not living by her rules. She did not like Damien.”
“Well,” Julie said carefully, extracting the bag of giblets, “you, yourself, said he’s not your type. That you liked him because he isn’t. Dig out the butter, would you?”
“Exactly!” I found the butter and set to organizing the rest. Julie liked having help, but to be the only hands-on person. That’s okay, because touching the wrinkly raw turkey skin freaked me out a little. “With Damien, I know it’s not going anywhere, so it’s like I had no huge expectations. I wasn’t forever measuring him against this impossible standard.”
She gave me a sideways frown. “You mean, like I did with Steve?”
“No! No, I didn’t mean that at all. You didn’t really like him all that much.”
“How could you tell?”
“I just…could.” I shrugged a little. Ice had a point, that this wasn’t all quantifiable.
“Do you think Amy likes Brad all that much?” She asked.
Hmm. “I think she wants to,” I temporized.
“That’s what I think, too.”
* * *
Charley and Daniel re-emerged by ten, all showered and looking content. He set to making some special family eggnog, while Charley noshed on the hors d’oeuvres Julie had set out. I took the reprieve to grab my bag and use the guest bath to shower off the cooking schmutz and get dressed.
By the time I emerged, Ice had arrived, along with Amy and Brad.
“No date for Ice?” I murmured to Amy, who’d commandeered the big dining table, draping it with a coffee-brown cloth and then a brilliant gold runner. Brad was over talking to Daniel, drinking eggnog and doing the hail-fellow-well-met.
Amy shook her head. “She said none of them were good enough for us.”
Ice put an arm around each of us, wedging herself in between. “They’re not. I only want to be with you guys. Run off with me to Bali and we’ll weave baskets and live together forever.”
“Have you been drinking already?” I asked.
She held up her glass of eggnog. “This is powerful shiz, and on an empty stomach. When do we eat?”
“Precisely at noon,” Amy and I said together.
I rolled my eyes and laughed. “You know Julie and her timetables.”
“It smells amazing.” Ice wandered off again. “Charley, honey, how come I never see you anymore?”
“Is she okay?” I asked.
“Hard semester, I think.” Amy extracted miniature vases tied with gold bows, and put one at each place setting. “She’ll be better after finals.”
“Yeah. She always is.” Ice drove herself really hard, for lots of reasons. Her mother made mine look like a teddy bear.
“Charley, Daniel—smile!” Brad took a picture of them with his phone. “Perfect. This will be great on Instagram. Hashtag Thanksgiving. Hashtag Chicago. Hashtag Chicagolife…”
“Hashtag let me suck up some more,” Amy said under her breath.
“Are you okay?” I asked, taken aback.
She nodded, then shook her head, bowing her face over the box, then wiping a tear away with her shoulder. “Let’s talk about it later. I want the table to be pretty.”
“Amy—”
“Yoo-hooo, Marcia! Your date is here.” Ice did a little hip shimmy with it. Behind her, Damien cocked his brow, giving me a dubious look.
“I’m going to kill her,” I muttered.
“Not on Thanksgiving,” Amy replied. “Julie would never forgive you.”
I went to meet Damien, ridiculously happy to see him there. He’d gone back to all black, jewelry included, making those aqua eyes all the more startling in contrast. Were they contact lenses? It didn’t matter.
“Hello, luv.” He gave me a smile. Ice already had his jacket, hanging it up.
“I see you met Ice already.”
She came back, giving him a big smile and threading her arm through his. “I like this one, Marcia.”
“You can’t have him. Mine.”
She thrust out her lip in a pout. “I’d share with you.”
“Sorry,” I said to Damien. “She’s a shameless flirt.”
“I am.” She sighed. “It’s my cross to bear. Disappointing your parents takes a lot of dedicated effort.”
“Ice is a chill name.” Damien patted her hand, giving me a conspiratorial smile.
“Short for Anaisa. No one but my family—my blood family—calls me that.”
“Let me introduce you around.” I pointedly pried Damien away from Ice. Behind his back she held up a hand splayed with five fingers and the other in an “OK” sign, mouthing “five-point-oh,” just in case I didn’t get it. “I tried to warn you,” I said, then sniffed. “Why do you smell like makeup? Like that pancake stuff Charley uses.”
“Do I?” He frowned. “No idea. That’s weird.”
“Hi, I’m Charley. We met the other day.” Charley, glass in one hand, held out the other to shake Damien’s, as if anyone could forget her. “And you’re Damien,” she said, in a weirdly pointed way.
“That’s right,” he said, squeezing her hand. Some communication passed between them, and I looked back and forth, not sure what was going on.
Charley glanced at me, then released Damien’s hand. She started to say something, but Amy came over. Then she took Damien to meet Brad, and Daniel got him some eggnog. The three guys started talking about the Cubs—Damien surprising me by falling right into the groove with them—so I went to see if I could help Julie.
“Thank God,” she said to me. “Stir the gravy. Don’t you dare stop.”
I stirred, watching Damien with the other guys. Both Brad and Daniel were nice, clean-cut looking guys. Pressed slacks, sport shirts, corporate hair. The marriageable type. My guy, in contrast, slouched gracefully against the counter, hipshot in his black jeans, pointing a finger holding his eggnog glass, saying something that the other two nodded at.
“Mine,” I said to myself.
“You can devour him later. Food now,” Julie said. “Let’s get this dinner served.” She paused, though, pushing back her dark curls with her forearm. “He is yummy, though. I get it.”
“You do?” I hadn’t expected that.
“Oh yeah. He suits you.”
Damien looked over and smiled at me, making my heart tumble. “He really does,” I replied. “He’s the real thing.”
* * *
Dinner was amazing. Of course. Not just the food, either. Daniel poured the wine liberally, perfectly suited to the turkey with the gravy Julie had made an extra vat of. We laughed a lot.
Brad went on a bit, relentlessly snapping and posting pics to social media, until Amy asked him to put his phone away after one too many “hashtag turkeys.” Unfortunately, without the diversion, he talked about social media and the attention economy instead.
“If I hear ‘viral’ one more time,” Damien murmured to me, “I might come down with a fever myself.” Which, of course, had me snorting to hold back the laugh.
I wished Amy looked like she was having more fun, but everything was going as wonderfully as even Julie could want. Until Damien chipped a tooth on the pecan pie.
Or that’s what I thought. He yelped, clapped a hand over his mouth, then covered it with a napkin.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Bit down wrong.”
“Let me see,” Ice said.
“Nah, it’s okay.”
But she’d already leaned across me. “I’m a doctor. Let me see.”
“You’re not a doctor yet,” Charley pointed out.
“That’s why I have to practice every minute.” She did have the commanding attitude, clamping Damien’s jaw and opening his mouth. “Shit, you chipped the front tooth. Does it hurt?”
“Nah.” He yanked out of her hands, then froze, staring at me. Or at my expression. Because I’d already seen.
That chipped front tooth. So appealing in that otherwise perfect face, with his angelic golden curls. The guy from the train.
“Gabriel?” I whispered.
Charley threw down her napkin. “I told you fucking so, didn’t I?” she accused Daniel, who put a quelling hand on her.
Amy, Ice, and Julie all looked shocked, Ice putting her arm around me and pulling me back a little. “Take a moment, honey,” she murmured in my ear.
But I shrugged her off, looking from Damien—no, Gabriel—to Charley and back again. Both looked guilty.
“Fuck me,” I said, the curse falling heavily.
“What’s going on?” Brad asked, holding up his phone, and Amy shushed him, snatching it away.
“Look, Marcia,” Damien said, all accent gone. “Let me explain.”
“Explain?” My voice rose dangerously. “Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary. I want you to leave.”
“Luv, I—”
“Don’t call me that,” I hissed, then kicked back my chair, nearly unseating Ice with it. “Never mind. I’m leaving.”
“Marcia,” Charley said. “I didn’t—”
I pointed at her, rage sheer and fine coursing in my blood stream. “Shut up. You had your fun. You finally got your revenge, didn’t you? And you.” Damien had risen, too, putting a hand on my arm. I viciously shoved him back, those fake eyes going wide in shock. Contact lenses. “You don’t ever touch me again. I can’t believe I let you—You lied to me and…used me.” A sob burst out of my tight chest.
“It wasn’t like that,” he said tightly.
“Wasn’t it?” Charley’s voice whipped out, tight and furious. “You were supposed to romance her, not fuck her silly!”
“I tried, didn’t I?” Damien threw up his hands, snarling at her. “You swore up and down that she was a professional virgin, that she’d never give up the goods. What the hell was I supposed to do? I’m not a fucking monk!”
I swayed on my feet, though Ice steadied me, murmuring more quiet words I couldn’t understand.
“What is going on here?” Brad demanded, then turned to Amy. “This is classic. There’s a whole Thanksgiving dinner table fights hashtag. Give me my phone.”
“You’re an actor,” I flung the word at him. “That’s why you smelled like theater makeup, isn’t it?”
“I did a show for the kids in the park this morning,” he replied, shoving his hands in his front pockets. “You have a nose like a fucking bloodhound.”
My voice came out surprisingly steady, but I couldn’t feel anything. Just numb. “None of it was real. All a trick. A role for you to play.”
“That’s not true.” Damien stepped toward me and I backed up, Ice’s warm body bracing me. “At first, I mean, yeah. But then… Then I really started to like you. You’re funny and smart, and a terrible drunk. And then so freaking sexy I didn’t believe you were a virgin. And then you wanted to—”
I held up a hand. “I think everyone here knows more than enough about my virginity and lack thereof, thank you.”
“I never meant for it to go down like this,” he said quietly. “I told you I had stuff to explain. If you’ll just—”
“No. I want you to leave.”
“Okay.” He shoved his hands back in his pockets, hunching miserably. “Fair enough. I’ll call you later and we can—”
“Don’t bother,” I said crisply. “I won’t answer. I’m done listening. Done with you.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and found his number. “Blocked. Deleted.”
“You can’t just—”
“Goodbye Damien. Gabriel. Whatever the fuck your name is.”
He gaped at me, then closed his mouth, and shouldered past, a furiously black look on his face.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” Charley said, following.
Ice made me sit, handing me a glass of ice water. “Steady breaths,” she advised.
From the hallway, I could hear Charley and Damien arguing in furious whispers. Then the door slammed and Charley came back in.
“I’m leaving,” I said, starting to rise, but Ice held me in my chair with a hand on my shoulder.
“No, we’re having this out,” she said.
“I should start cleaning up.” Julie, pale and quiet, stood with her dessert plate in hand. I’d ruined her perfect Thanksgiving after all. The misery balled at the base of my throat.
“We’ll all help,” Ice said, “after we talk. All of us. I’m pulling seniority.”
“You don’t have seniority.” Charley’s sullen reply echoed my own sentiments.
“When you two are acting like bitchy high school girls, I do,” Ice answered.
“C’mon Brad.” Daniel clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s see if there’s a game on to watch.”
“Hell, yeah.” Brad bounced up, grabbing his phone back from Amy. “Got any beer? I want to tell you about this idea I have for viral marketing. Holt could really take advantage of this attention economy.”
Amy watched them go, pinched lines around her mouth. What a mess we all were. Charley and Ice sat again. We all eyed the detritus of the meal in silence. Daniel walked back in, set a decanter of brandy on the table, with five glasses. “Thought you all might need this.” He kissed Charley on the head and left again.
With a sigh, she poured for all of us, passing the glasses, giving me mine last. “I’ll start. I deserved that, Ice, and I’m sorry. Marcia, I apologize to you—and you know I hate apologizing, so you know I mean it—I had no idea things would go this far.”
“Unintended consequences,” Ice murmured.
“You hired him.”
“I said I’d put in a word for him, for a part he really wanted.”
“I understand revenge,” I said, quietly, staring into the brandy, then drinking. It cut through the goop of tears in the back of my throat, and reminded me of the whiskey I’d had with Damien that first day. You were funny and smart… and then so freaking sexy. “Revenge for me meddling in your life, but I never set out to break your heart.”
“I didn’t either,” Charley insisted. “I really thought you’d like Gabriel. He was perfect for you, so I suggested that he could romance you a little. Lord knows you weren’t going to meet anyone being a wallflower at the bar. I told him what train you take, how to find you. It was never supposed to go this far. The whole ‘Damien’ thing was not my idea.”
“You cried,” I accused Charley. “You acted all hurt when I confronted you about it.”
“Actress, remember?” She looked miserably chagrined. “I was just… extending the game. I got carried away by the role.”
“Just like Damien.”
She frowned and poured more brandy. “Maybe? I don’t know. I really thought he was a terrific guy. I never expected him to go to these lengths. I had no idea until I saw him with you at the restaurant Tuesday, and, well…Maybe I misjudged him.” She looked up at me, eyes dark and damp. “I really am sorry, Marcia. I fucked up.”
“No, he fucked up. He’s the one who decided to lie to me, to pretend—” I had to stop, because I was going to lose it entirely. I groaned and laid my head on my folded arms. “It was all a game to him. None of it was real.” I’d never use the term “heartbreak” casually again. As hard as I’d tried to keep chill and just enjoy, I’d totally fallen for Damien, and now my heart actually throbbed with physical pain.
Ice took the brandy glass from my nerveless fingers. “You’ve had enough of this. Let me finish it for you.” She stroked my hair. “It won’t help to hear this, but we’ve all been there—thought a guy was the real thing and he turned out to be a shit. I specialize in the type.”
“Me, too,” Julie sighed.
“Me, three. I spent so much time being afraid of that, I never let anyone close until Daniel,” Charley said. “And then he turned out to be the best fucking thing that ever happened to me, and I had your meddling to thank for it. So there you have it. My ‘revenge’”—she did air quotes—“was to give you a chance at someone great, too. I did mean well. I know you won’t believe me, but…” She trailed off, gaze on me.
Oddly enough I did believe her. So much of my mess was of my own making, spending so much energy being jealous of her. “Can we call it good between us now?”
A smile broke through her misery. “I’d really like that.”
“Okay then.” I raked my hands through my hair, rubbing my throbbing head. “This way I can feel like shit about only one person in my life.”
“Take some time,” Ice advised. “Things will look clearer in the morning.”
“Detox will help,” Amy put in, brightening.
We all groaned and I took my brandy back from Ice, sipping to salve the pain. “Let’s clean up so I can go home and cry into my pillow.”
“One thing first,” Ice said, grabbing the decanter to refill her own glass, “it’s time to introduce a new rule.”
“Ooh!” Julie clasped her hands together. “On long-term relationship scoring.”
“No,” Amy and Charley said in the same breath, then exchanged bemused glances.
“I’m not touching that one,” Ice agreed. “This isn’t for the Rules. I want everyone at this table to agree that this ends it. No more meddling. No setting each other up without full consent and knowledge.”
We all looked at each other, a kind of embarrassed nostalgia settling around us.
“I’ll go first,” I said, “since I started it. I do so solemnly swear.”
One by one, we all agreed. Charley refilled our glasses and we toasted to it.
Then we voted that Daniel and Brad had to do clean up.