Work of Art (16 page)

It had been a long day, it was late, and I had to be up early, but I wasn’t anywhere near tired. I hadn’t really been sleeping a lot over the past few months, but mindless TV helped. I switched the channel over to the Food Network and watched
Iron Chef America
.

Fifteen minutes into the show, my cell vibrated from where it sat on the newly repaired coffee table. I hoped it wasn’t a work crisis and held my breath
as I looked at the screen. It was a number I didn’t recognize.

Hi.

Hi,
I responded, not sure why I felt compelled to do so when I had no idea who I was saying it to.

It’s Harper.

An involuntary smile spread across my face, and I immediately fell back into my eighteen year-old self, giddy to be exchanging texts with my girlfriend. But then my twenty-nine year-old self who lived in the present was nervous because I had no idea who Harper even was anymore, but the idea of getting to know her again and rekindling a friendship made me respond.

I was surprised to he
ar from her – surprised, but excited.

Hi Harper.

How are you? Having a good night?

Just got home from work.
You?

Doing paperwork.
Busy night at the shop – finally getting a break.

Busy’s
good.

:)

So what’s up?
I texted, wondering what made her reach out to me.

I wanted to see if you wanted to grab that coffee
we talked about on Saturday.

I hesitated and looked back toward the bedroom as if Trish was there watching me.
I’d inevitably dismissed her because I wanted to be alone, and now I was texting with Harper. It made me feel guilty.

And
I think I hesitated in responding long enough that it made Harper second guess asking.

It’s okay if you can’t. I didn’t think
that you might have plans with your fiancé. Never mind if it’s not a good day,
she texted back.

I quickly fired off my reply.
I’d love to catch up, and Trish is going out of town on Saturday afternoon. I have no plans. Let’s meet for coffee. You pick the time and place.

For some reason, I pictured her smiling at my reply,
just like how she’d smiled at me when I’d seen her the other day.

I’ll text you tomorrow to let you know
what time, but if it’s okay with you, could we maybe make that coffee a beer?

I laughed out loud, and I wasn’t sure why
. Probably because this was one of the most nerve-racking things I’d done in years, and I could tell Harper was nervous too.

Yes. A beer would be good.
I’ll look forward to hearing from you.

:)

See. I knew she’d been smiling when I’d replied.

* * *

“Hello darling,” my mother greeted me, air kissing the space next to my cheek when I stood from the table at a restaurant I hoped she would like. I’d picked it on a whim, since I’d been at the office all morning, and it was close by. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Mom. How was your flight?”

“Long, and I smell like an airplane, but no matter, we’re here, and it’s so good to see you.”

“Ryan,”
Felicity Spencer chimed in loudly as she released her daughter and turned to face me with her pointy, pinched nose and an expression like she’d tasted something sour that brightened when she held her arms out for me.

I’d never been a big fan of Trish’s mom, but she thought I walked on water
, so I kept quiet and pretended we were good friends.

I returned her hug, holding my nose at her pungent perfume. “How are you,
Felicity?”

She pulled back to appraise me, and I realized her scent had transferred onto my shirt.
Great.

“Well, I am just thrilled that you kids are finally getting married. I mean, I remember my
Trisha telling me how handsome she thought you were back when you were at Yale and we’d see you at The Vineyard in the summer. She was just a teenager then, but she would tell me all about how one day she was going to marry you.”

“
Mom
,” Trish said, her face flushing as I put my arm around her and pulled her against me. I turned and kissed her temple, and she smiled.

“She could predict the future back then,” my mother chimed in. “If only Ryan would have had the good sense to see what was right in front of him all along.”

I clenched my jaw muscles at her well-timed dig, but I didn’t respond. Any chance she got to remind me of what a fuck-up I’d been for years, she took it, and responding in defense of myself would get me nowhere. At least she couldn’t slight me for anything now. I was living the life she’d always wanted me to live, and I was engaged to a girl she loved. She had no pull except to yank crap out of the past and lord it over me.

“Well, I’m
just glad he finally noticed me,” Trish said, looking up at me adoringly.

I smiled at her, glad she was on my side.

“Shall we sit?” I asked, gesturing to the table, desperate not to dwell on this topic any further.

If I let my mother get going, she’d be taking jabs at me all afternoon. It seemed a decade of mistakes could not be erased in a year, and I’d be paying for my decisions for years to come.

“Oh good, you do have plans to feed us today,” my mother responded snidely. “I was wondering if we might all just stand around the table and hope food made its way to our mouths.”

“Please sit, Lydia,” Trish said softly. I knew she was somewhat intimidated by my mom. Most people were.

“Thank you, Trisha. That’s so kind of you.”

At least she liked Trish.

The meal continued much in the same fashion, and thankfully I wasn’t asked to contribute much as the women were discussing wedding plans, and my job was basically to show up on the day of the event in my tux. Occasionally Trish or her mom would ask me a question, but it was rare.

“So, when can we expect grandchildren,”
Felicity asked as the waiter cleared away our plates.

Thankfully everyone had liked the restaurant.

“Soon,” Trish said, taking my hand under the table. I smiled at her.

“We’ve talked about starting a family in the near future,” I told them, feeling uncomfortable talking about having sex in front of my mother.

Granted, sex made babies, but I didn’t exactly want them knowing that we were going to be trying, because that meant sex, and it was a visual I didn’t want either of them to have.

“Will you move back after you have kids?”
Felicity asked, and I saw my mother glance at me expectantly. I knew she’d wanted to ask the same thing.

Neither of them had been thrilled when we’d taken off across the country, but I’d assured them it was to further my career which hadn’t been met with
an argument even if it wasn’t completely true. I’d taken the position I’d been offered because I needed to get away.

I hated fearing that I would run into Courtney and her new boyfriend or that I would see things that invariably reminded me of our relationship and her indiscretions. After what happened, leaving had felt right, and Trish had been more than willing to accompany me.

But even though our families knew we’d moved for good reasons, I also knew that the assumption that we would eventually settle back in Boston was there. They didn’t want us across the country, and the pressure to move back would be even greater after we had kids. And knowing this, I was afraid to even bring up what I was considering from a career standpoint since I’d been looking at Stanford and Berkley as places where I could do my PhD. I had no desire to leave San Francisco just yet.

Trish
looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to take the lead and answer her mother’s question. “It’s definitely something we’re considering,” I said, and both our mother’s beamed.

Crisis averted.

“Well, I need to use the ladies room,” Felicity said. “Trisha, will you accompany me?”

“Sure, Mother,” she said, rising from her seat, leaving me alone with my mother.

I took a deep breath, knowing this was the only chance we’d get to talk in person before the wedding, so I needed to tell her that Harper was coming to the wedding. She’d hate it, and I’d been dreading this conversation.

But I wasn’t ready to tell her just yet.

“So how is everyone?” I asked, buying time. “How’s Lisa. I haven’t talked to her in a while.”

My sister Lisa and I didn’t have the greatest of relationships
, because she was a stuck up bitch most of the time, but I liked her kids, so I made time to see her whenever I was in town. She had four of them, Madeline was ten, Henry was seven, Ruby was four, and Carson was almost a year old. They were a handful, but they were cute.

My mother rearranged her folded napkin on her lap. “Well, you should call her. She’s your sister, after all.
And she has her hands full with the kids since James has been traveling more than ever. Madeline has a dance recital coming up, so we’re all going to that, and Henry is playing soccer. Ruby is going through a phase where she throws food, and it’s not pleasant for any of us. Your brother is the only one who can get her to behave since she thinks he walks on water. And the baby is getting big and crawling everywhere.”

“
How is John?”

I’d talked to my younger brother
just the week before, but she didn’t know that, and I was still stalling.

“John is wonderful,” she said brightly. “Law school is going well, he’s dating a new girl, and she’s perfect for him.”

Great.

I wondered how my brother who’d blown half of his trust fund fucking women on every continent could be deemed the good son, and I was the black sheep of the family because of a
string of incidents that my parents didn’t approve of that all added up together probably were no worse than what John had done. It was completely hypocritical.

“Mom,” I
finally said, knowing Trish and her mom would be back soon. “I actually need to tell you something.”

“Yes,” she said expectantly, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. She always expected the worst from me.

“You should know that Harper is coming to the wedding.”

“Who?”

“Harper Connelly, my girlfriend from high school,” I said, knowing once I clarified my statement she’d know exactly who I was talking about.

Her eyes narrowed. “You mean the girl you got pregnant,” she said, and I glanced toward the restrooms just to be sure that Trish wasn’t walking toward us. She didn’t know about my past with Harper, and I wanted to keep it that way.

“Yes.”

There wasn’t much else I could say. I wasn’t about to defend what had happened. Been there, done that,
and it hadn’t worked.

“Why is she coming to your wedding, Ryan? I wasn’t aware that you were even in contact with her.”

I sighed. “I wasn’t. She’s Brandon’s date. They met on an airplane and became friends, and he invited her before knowing who she was. I haven’t talked to her since the summer after high school.”

“The summer she told you she was aborting your baby and left you?”

I gritted my teeth, hating how she just put it out there. “Yes, that summer.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I won’t allow it.”

“What do you mean ‘no’. I wasn’t asking for permission. I was simply telling you that she’d be there.”

My mother’s eyes narrowed further. “Ryan, that girl tried to ruin your life. I will not allow it.”

“She did not try to ruin my life. If she was trying to do that, she wouldn’t have had an abortion. You never liked her, and you were just thrilled when we broke up. Don’t try to change your tune now. Besides, you don’t have a choice, she’s coming.”

“Unbelievable,” she muttered.

“What? What’s unbelievable?” I asked, sitting up straighter, curious about where this was going.

She shook her head. “Convenient, don’t you think. That
you haven’t seen her in eleven years, and all of a sudden, right as you’re about to walk down the aisle, she weasels her way back into your life. Does she know how much money you have? How successful you are?”

I laughed out loud. “She’s just as successful as me, Mom.”

“I highly doubt that. She was always trouble.”

“
She wasn’t trouble,” I snapped, and my mother glared at me, so I clarified my statement. “How come you never liked her? Was it because of her stepdad and what he did?”

My mother didn’t respond. She just
turned to stare out the window at the busy San Francisco streets outside.

“Come on,
Mom. You never told me back then. Was it because she wasn’t friends with the girls whose mothers you were friends with?”

She glared at me. “Ryan, I am not that petty.”

Yes, you are.