Intoxicated (38 page)

“Fine. Maybe I am overreacting just a bit.
And thank you.”

She smiled triumphantly as she set down her
knife, the icing job complete. She started in on the candles next,
clearly in her element. Cake decoration was the only thing I was
willing to trust her with tonight. For some inexplicable reason I
wanted everything to be perfect. I knew Matthew wouldn’t be upset
with me if dinner was burnt or undercooked, but I would be. After
all the silence between us lately, I wanted nothing to make the
situation any more awkward than it already would be.

He showed up right on time, breezing into the
kitchen as if mere hours had passed since his last visit. Blake
greeted him with a hug; I stayed in position behind the counter,
pretending to be occupied while I waited for him to make the first
move.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, doing just
that.

“Hey, yourself. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

“So how does it feel to be thirty?” Blake
asked, winking mischievously.

“Don’t remind me,” he said with mock
annoyance. “I already feel old. And that I haven’t accomplished
everything I wanted to by this point in time.”

Given the glance in my direction, the last
comment was made for my benefit. I felt a blush rise in my cheeks
and I lowered my eyes, once again messing with the already
completed food to keep what was left of my composure. So he had
meant to talk to me. Maybe he had been busy at work. Or maybe he
had been waiting for me to do my part and initiate things.

Whatever the case, I was determined not to
ruin things between us any further than I already had. We were
going to have a good meal together. He was going to open his
birthday presents and then, if we were lucky, Blake would have
enough tact to leave us alone long enough to address the elephant
in the room. Surely she had to know something was going on. The air
was thick with words unsaid.

Dinner was eaten amid idle chatter. We all
took the floor in turn to expand on our respective days at work.
Since I hadn’t seen him since I went to my dad’s, Matthew asked me
about Christmas Day. I responded politely, sharing a couple stories
about Gracie and her exploits, but mentioning nothing about Eric.
His smile was so encouraging as he hung on my every word that I
found myself recounting my pilgrimage to my mother’s grave. Of
course I edited the whole pouring my heart out story based on my
audience, but by the end, I had tears in my eyes.

Embarrassed, I brushed away the moisture with
the back of my hand. I stood up from my barstool and tended to my
empty plate, rinsing it off in the sink and loading it into the
dishwasher. Matthew followed me, tapping me gently on the shoulder
when I refused to acknowledge him.

“You okay?” he asked simply.

I sniffled, wondering why the majority of our
conversations began this way. Pasting on a smile, I spun around to
face him. “I’m fine. I just have never shared that with anyone
before. For some reason, it made me sad. I’m sorry to be such a
downer.”

“Don’t apologize. You shouldn’t feel bad for
missing your mom.”

“Even if I can’t remember her?”

He smiled. “Maybe because of it. You never
had those moments where you were upset with her, when she couldn’t
understand you, when she disappointed you. When she died, she was
still perfect in your eyes. You never got to the point when you
realized she was just human.”

“I guess not. Though to hear my dad talk
about her, she was perfect.”

“And he was in love with her. That clouds
your vision, too.”

At a loss for words, I reached out for his
plate. After a second, he realized what I was doing and handed it
over. Since I was standing between him and the sink it was far
easier for me to handle the dirty dish. He watched me closely as I
tended to the plate. I knew he wanted to say more, but Blake was
within earshot and it wasn’t the time.

We might have stood there all night if she
hadn’t broken the silence and announced it was time for presents.
The entire room breathed a collective sigh of relief and the
tension evaporated instantly. I could have reached over and hugged
her.

Unlike Christmas Eve, I wasn’t concerned
about giving him his gift. Based on his reaction to the framed
print, I knew he would be over the moon about the tickets to the
game. In fact when he opened them, he stared at them for a moment
in disbelief.

“These are really good seats,” he said
finally. “They should have been impossible to get.”

“I have my sources,” I grinned broadly. “I
figured you and Chris could go and have fun.”

“Oh, for a minute there I thought maybe you
wanted to go.”

“I really don’t know anything about hockey,”
I backpedaled, “it would be a waste to take me.”

I silently berated myself for not thinking
the presentation through better. Not for one moment had I
considered that he would think the second ticket would be for me. I
had figured it rude to just supply one ticket; who would want to
drive that far to go to a game alone? Chris had, to me at least,
been the obvious recipient of the other admission. Even though I
knew very little about the guy, I figured that by being Matthew’s
best friend there was a good chance he was also a fan or could at a
minimum tolerate the sport enough in order to accompany him.

Of course he would have thought I was going
with him. We were going to go to the concert together, why not a
sporting event? My Christmas gift had clearly included a night out
with him. He hadn’t told me he was sending me down there alone, or
with Gracie or even Blake. He had told me we were going. My gift to
him, as similar in nature as it was, wasn’t a true
reciprocation.

“It’s awesome, sweetheart,” he confirmed,
“thank you so much. I’ll wait to tell Chris about it, just in case
you change your mind.”

“You’re welcome. And I’ll consider it, I
guess.”

“Good. It would be a lot of fun.”

Blake rolled her eyes at our exchange. “And
what if I wanted to go?” she piped up. “I enjoy having fun.”

“I could give you the name of my contact,” I
teased, positive that she was only kidding.

“Before you came along, I used to be the one
who got invited on road trips. Now it’s the two of you planning
adventures together. I am feeling very third-wheelish right about
now.”

“Oh, sunshine,” Matthew said playfully, “such
the drama queen you are. Don’t worry; you’ll get to go somewhere
with me soon. I’ll even let you pick. I’m sure there’s some art
exhibit you want to go to coming up.”

She smiled evilly. “I’ll find something, I’m
positive of it.”

“Well, now I’m just afraid.”

“As you should be, dork. Now that Lauren has
stolen my thunder, here’s your present from me.”

She handed him an expertly wrapped package
and took her seat. He tore into the wrapping paper to reveal a box
containing a new camera. The look on his face was priceless, like
he’d just received the best gift ever. He opened the box to
extricate the item from its packaging. Even with my lack of
knowledge about photography, I could tell it was an expensive piece
of equipment.

I hadn’t realized he’d had an interest in the
hobby. As I sat there while Blake rattled off features of the
camera in what sounded like a foreign language and Matthew nodded
enthusiastically, it was my turn to feel like a third wheel. There
was so much I didn’t know about him. So much he hadn’t told me. So
many things I didn’t know to ask about. Yet in the short time since
we had met, his life had become seemingly meshed with mine. I had
felt a distinct loss those weeks when we hadn’t communicated, as if
the orbit of my small little world had noticeably shifted.

“If you two are going to go all geeky on me,”
I interrupted, “I’m going to get the cake ready. I can at least
understand that.”

“The fire extinguisher is by the back door!”
Blake called helpfully as I made my way into the kitchen. Her snide
remark was quickly followed by “Ow!” and then laughter.

Blake did have a point. Thirty candles took a
while to light, and the sight of the finished product was sort of
like staring directly at the sun. I had considered carrying it out
to the living room and setting it on the table, but didn’t trust
myself to pick up a large flaming object for transport. Instead, I
decided on calling the siblings back into the kitchen.

When they returned, Blake had the new camera
in hand. They had obviously spent the time alone doing at least a
little research with the owner’s manual, for she was preparing to
snap the inaugural picture. Either that, or she was more
technologically savvy than I gave her credit for. I seriously
doubted that I would have been able to get the thing turned on by
now, let alone be ready to take a picture with it.

True to form, I ducked out of the way as
Matthew rounded the breakfast bar. Blake took her place across from
him to get two pictures. The first was him standing next to the
cake, the second an action shot of him blowing out the candles. As
she snapped photos, the two of us sang a – offkey on my part –
spirited version of Happy Birthday. I never would have guessed that
Blake had the voice of an angel, but she did. The two of them just
kept surprising me.

We cut the cake and headed back to the living
room and its more comfortable seating. With only three of us
sharing in the festivities, there was quite a bit left even though
we had all taken pretty sizable slices. I figured that at the end
of the night I would wrap the remainder up for Matthew to take home
with him. By the way Blake was attacking her piece, though, I
figured she might try to talk me out of that option. I supposed we
could leave it here, but only if I could be assured that things
would return to normal and her brother would again be our frequent
dinner guest.

The doorbell rang and all of us looked at one
another, clearly not expecting anyone. I shrugged as Blake rose to
her feet, answering her silent question.

“Probably just someone trying to sell
something,” I muttered, returning to my cake.

Blake was still holding her plate as she
sauntered over to the door. She took another bite of cake, beyond
annoyed that someone was intruding on our private party.
Personally, I would have chosen to just ignore it, though it was a
little hard to pretend no one was home when the house was totally
lit up. She probably figured it was easier to deal with the
distraction and make it go away rather than trying to hide from
it.

“So, about the concert,” Matthew said
quietly, taking advantage of his sister being occupied momentarily,
“do you think Gracie would let us crash at her place
afterwards?”

“We’re not going to drive back that night?” I
asked innocently. To be honest, I hadn’t fathomed that our little
road trip would turn into an overnighter. It would be a late night
for sure, but I had assumed that we would be sleeping in our own
beds come the wee morning hours.

“I wasn’t planning on it. Especially with it
being in February, who knows what the weather will be like? Think
about it, we’ll have been at work all day. A trip to Indy and back
would be a little ambitious for anyone in the same day.”

“Fair enough. I’ll mention it to her the next
time we talk. Just a word of warning, though, her place is pretty
small. Hope you’re okay with bunking on a couch.”

“That’ll do. I’d much rather stay there than
some roach motel.”

I was positive Gracie would be cool with it.
So cool with it that I almost didn’t need to ask her; I could just
plan on it. I could almost hear her gushing in my head to go for
it. Knowing her, she would conveniently find something to do that
evening that involved her not coming home.

The thought of being alone in a tiny
apartment with him all night both scared and intrigued me all at
once.

With thoughts of what might happen that night
swirling in my head, I totally ignored the conversation Blake was
having at the front door with our mystery guest. She spoke in a low
tone, and I couldn’t hear the other party at all. Finally she
turned from the door without closing it behind her, a gust of cold
air passing through as she returned to the living room, still
eating her cake.

“Lauren, you have a visitor.”

Her announcement stopped me cold in my
tracks. I stared up at her, my eyebrow raised, but she didn’t give
me any hints other than her utterly amused expression. With my back
to the door, I was totally unprepared for what I was about to get
myself into. Blake and Matthew, who was sitting on the portion of
the sectional parallel to the front door, exchanged a glance that
chilled me to the bone.

I didn’t have to wait for long to find out my
visitor’s identity.

“Lauren,” Eric said, walking into the foyer
and closing the front door behind him, “we need to talk.”

I set down my plate on the coffee table, my
hands trembling. I was certain I looked like a child caught with my
hand stuck in the cookie jar. Eric had been standing mere feet away
from me while I had discussed an overnight road trip with the same
man he accused me of cheating on him with. Although I was
relatively certain he wouldn’t have been able to hear any of it,
the guilt rose to the surface reflexively.

“Eric,” I said as I stood up, “what are you
doing here?”

He laughed easily. “I’m here to see you, of
course.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized unnecessarily, “I
didn’t realize you were coming.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he stated,
clearly in his element, “and it looks as though I was completely
successful. You remember when you texted me your address? I still
had it in my phone, and by the magic of GPS, here I am. The place
was pretty easy to find, considering I’ve never been here
before.”

By now, I stood in front of him. We were a
few feet apart, but neither one of us made a move to lessen the
distance.