Keeping Secrets in Seattle (5 page)

I cleared my throat. “Okay then…hit me.”

The corners of his mouth pricked upward. “So the reason I came here without Alicia is…”

“Because she can’t stand me.”

Gabe frowned. “She doesn’t hate you. She thinks you’re great.”

“Okay, you get an ‘A’ for effort, dude, but I’m not buying it. The future Mrs. Parker hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.” He looked away. “She likes you. It’s gotta be weird, though. For her fiancé to have a girl best friend.”

I nodded. “I guess. But there’s nothing between us. We’re completely platonic. Nothing to worry about, right?”

His face fell. Just the tiniest bit. “Right.”

We just watched each other for an awkward pause.

“Listen, I wanted to ask you if…” Gabe paused and laughed nervously.

“If?”

“It would really mean the world to me if you would be my best man.”

The race engine in my heart sputtered to an abrupt halt. I probably should have thanked him for the honor. But my initial reaction was to jump off the bed and yell,
What the hell, dude?
After all we’d been through, Gabe wanted me to stand next to him while he pledged his life to Alicia?

“You do realize that I’m not a guy, right?” I answered slowly.

“Believe me, I know that.” He swatted me with a pillow. “But you’re my best friend. And it just wouldn’t be right without you standing beside me. Let me rephrase…will you be my best woman?”

I smiled despite myself. “Isn’t Alicia your best woman?”

Gabe rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Stop busting my chops. All right, will you be my…best person?”

“That sounds stupid. Just call me your best man.”

“Fine. Will you be my best man?”

“And Alicia’s totally okay with this?” I watched his face for signs of impending doom.

“Oh, yeah, of course. She knows how important it is to me.”

My chest tightened. I was not only going to witness Gabe getting married, but now I would have a front and center view while doing so. How intoxicated would I have to be to stand there without having any comprehension of what I was witnessing? Could one actually request a lobotomy?

“Vi?” Gabe snapped his fingers underneath my nose a few times.

I fisted my hands under the pillow in my lap. Part of me wanted to tell him to drop dead. After all, I’d only recently begun the arduous process of getting over my love for him. How dare he ask me to be his best-freaking-
man
in his wedding, which was being held on my birthday? But the other part of me wanted to play the part of the cool, collected best friend. Willing to do whatever brought joy to my oldest and dearest friend. I felt like I was going to split right down the middle, leaving my guts—and my adoration—all over my bedspread for him to see.

Gabe cleared his throat, and I snapped to attention, offering false enthusiasm. “Of course. I would be honored to be your best person…er, man.”

He graced me with a wide grin. “Yeah? Thanks, Vi. I was afraid it would be weird for you.”

I bit my lip. “Not weird at all.”

“I have no idea what Alicia will dress you in, so don’t do the girl thing and ask me what you’re wearing. That’s why she wants you to come to brunch with her bridesmaids on Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, I see. Gee, I’m really looking forward to that.” I pressed my lips together to avoid making a face.

Gabe nudged me. “Come on. I won’t let her dress you like a complete fool.”

I let my fake smile drop. “Please try to rein her in, okay? I know my fashion sense isn’t like Alicia’s at all, but don’t let her put me into a chicken suit or something like that.”

“A chicken suit?” He laughed. “Fat chance. She’s got visions of grandeur. Expensive grandeur.”

“Well, I guess I won’t be too dressed up. Wouldn’t want me to be a threat or anything, right?”

Gabe’s expression was indecipherable. “That’s absurd.”

His comment had an invisible sting. “Exactly.”

Gabe stretched, and the tails of his shirt rose, showing a sliver of skin at the waist of his slacks. “I’ve got to get going. I’m being dragged to taste menu choices tomorrow morning between my work meetings.”

My pulse sped up at the sight of his abs, and I immediately bounced up off the bed. “Menu choices, huh? No rest for the weary groom, eh?”

He shook his head. “So it seems. And you pay double for everything when you’re planning a wedding just five months away.” He rose off the bed, standing just inches apart from me. “Apparently, that’s like a week in wedding time.”

I could smell his cologne again, and my head began to swim. “Yeah, five months isn’t very long to plan the wedding of the century.”

“I know. Alicia is going overboard. I should have seen it coming. Oh, and hey, about the wedding date…” Gabe’s face fell.

I scowled and pushed his chest. “You mean my birthday?”

He looked down. “Yeah…listen, I’m sorry. I know we always hang out on your birthday for…”

“Pizza and baseball.” I glanced at the Mariners pendant hanging on the wall.

“It’s just that Alicia’s parents can’t both get time off work until that week, and they are booked clear through the summer. Alicia wants them both in town for all the festivities. We’ll still be hanging out on your birthday, right? We’ll just be…” His voice trailed off.

“In tuxes. Well, you’ll be in a tux. I will be in a chicken suit.” I took a deep breath and peeled my eyes from the pendant. “It will be fine. It’s a silly old tradition, anyway. It’s time for new traditions.”

He nodded. “Right.”

I opened my bedroom door, and we walked down the hall to the front door.

“Bye, freak show,” Gabe called, rapping on Betsy and Kim’s bedroom door with a smirk.

“See you later, Daddy,” Kim’s muffled voice answered.

Gabe frowned. “Alicia’s not pregnant.”

One of my eyebrows rose high on my forehead. “You sure? I mean, this quickie wedding, and—”

Gabe shook his head. “No. Alicia just doesn’t want to wait.”

“Okay, then.” I opened the door and leaned against the frame. “Thanks for asking me to be in your wedding.”

His frown softened. “Of course. I can’t imagine getting married without you there.”

Gabe pulled me into a tight hug, his face buried in my neck, his lips against the skin behind my ear. My head
started to buzz, and I drew in a long, deep breath of his musky, rained-on scent, letting our hug last longer than it should have. Closing my eyes, I dug my fingers into the fabric of his shirt, pretending for just a moment that Gabe was mine. I could almost swear that he’d taken in his own deep breath, his lips and nose now buried in my hair. I felt weightless in his arms. The effect Gabe had on me was pure magic.

It was he who pulled out of the hug first, holding me at arm’s length, his eyes hazed over. We looked at each other, neither of us knowing what to say, but both of us increasingly aware of the incongruousness of our hug. Ten seconds passed…then twelve…

I spoke before he could, hoping my words would stifle the need brewing deep in my belly. “I think you’ve got cold feet.”

Gabe gritted his teeth. “I do not.”

“Then you had too much wine with your dinner tonight.” I took a shaky step backward.

His Caribbean blue eyes were focused on me. “I haven’t had anything to drink.”

My heart twisted. “Okay.”

“It’s just that…” He stopped speaking and just looked at me.

My insides tightened. “What?”

He released my shoulders and stepped through the doorway. The moment was gone. “Gotta go. I have three other groomsmen to call.”

Chapter Seven

June 13, 2001

The Parkers took me downtown with them today, and Gabe and I had a blast! We got into a lemon fight at the Chowder Shack, like we do every time we go, and Nora got mad at us. Like she always does. She said that she would never bring us again, but I saw her and Guthrie laughing when their backs were turned. I wish the Parkers were my family.

“Meet you tonight.” I stepped off the bus with my phone up to my ear.

“Looking forward to it.” Landon’s voice was chipper on the other end of the line. “What are you doing today?”

I looked up at the Washington sky, wondering if the gray clouds in the distance were going to infringe on my day. Landon was working while I had the day off, and I’d gone to the Pike Place Market for some fresh fish and vegetables to make jambalaya. “Just getting some supplies for your dinner.”

“Sounds awesome,” he said happily. “Can’t wait.”

“Me, neither.” I hung up and tightly pulled my long gray sweater around my shoulders. I was wearing black leggings and my favorite yellow-checkered rubber boots, the perfect ensemble for an afternoon that might or might not be rained on.

After watching the men in the fish market toss halibut and red snapper back and forth for fifteen minutes, I purchased a pound of jumbo shrimp for my fresh-out-of-the-Pacific jambalaya. I held my shrimp carefully while I counted out my money into the hand of the salesman, who called out all of the orders at the top of his voice over my head.

“Who is that beautiful girl over there?” a deep, velvety voice sounded behind me.

I strained to see past a flying salmon. There stood Gabe, holding a small bag. He was dressed down—not a look I got to see very often—and he looked like the kid I remembered from our teenage years. His worn jeans hugged his legs nicely, and underneath his unzipped hoodie he wore a faded black T-shirt that looked molded to his chest. I had to bite my lip to keep from squealing. On the top of his head, he wore his old, beatup Mariners baseball cap backward.

Backward
. Back in the day, a backward baseball cap on Gabe’s head usually made me want to pee my pants.

“Gabe.” I tossed a thank-you over my shoulder and walked toward him. “Whatcha doing here?”

He held up the bag. “Took the morning off to run wedding errands.”

I wanted to spit at the mention of said wedding but refrained. “What is it?”

“I’m not allowed to look in the bag. I think it’s my wedding present. She just didn’t have time to pick it up.” Gabe’s eyes wandered to my hair. “Hey, your hair is lighter.”

I fingered one of my loose pigtails. “Kim’s been working miracles. We’re aiming for platinum by the time your wedding comes around.”

“It looks great.” He winked at me, and my breath caught.

“Thanks.” I glanced down at the cement ground, suddenly self-conscious. Gabe was at the market on wedding errands, which was my sign to get up and get out. “So…I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Whoa, wait.” He touched my arm. “You’re not ditching me, are you?”

I looked over my shoulder. “Don’t you have to get back to wedding central?”

“I did what I was asked to do.” Gabe raised his eyebrows. “Let’s hang out.”

“Hang out?”

He laughed. “Yes, Vi.”

My body hummed at the mention of the nickname only Gabe was allowed to use. “Aren’t you supposed to be folding napkin swans today?”

He tugged on my arm. “Come on, let’s live on the edge.”

As always, I was powerless against him. We wove our way through the crowd and around the tables full of fresh vegetables, meat, and fish. “Where are we going?”

Gabe ducked as an enormous silver halibut was thrown over his head, amidst cries of joy from the watching crowd. “I don’t know.”

I realized that I was grinning, but I couldn’t help it. I
loved
hanging out with Gabe. Spending time with him always felt like
home
to me. There was a pang of guilt that kept sounding in the back of my mind, though. After all, Landon was waiting for jambalaya back at his place, and I was hanging out with the first boy I’d ever loved. Something was wrong with this scenario, but time with Gabe was time with Gabe.

“Let’s put this stuff in my car. I’ve got a cooler in the back.” He led me to his Escalade, which was parked in the diagonal slots lining the street just beyond the market.

Laughing, I set the bag of shrimp into the tiny drink cooler. “How did you manage to score a parking spot like this?”

Gabe gave me a sly glance. “I’ve got mad parking skills.”

I shook my head. “You mean you flirted with a woman as she was leaving and scored her spot?”

“You’re onto me.”

Pushing him, I snorted. “I’ve been onto your game since we were six.”

He slammed the car door. “Come on. Let’s go where we used to hang out when we were kids.” He took my elbow and guided me through traffic toward a cement staircase leading to the waterfront.

“What? Where?” I enjoyed the way his hand warmed my elbow too much to pull it away, despite the fact that Landon’s face popped into my head. He would still be at the job site for a while; I had plenty of time. Didn’t I?

We snaked our way down the cement steps, through a parking lot, and across a busy road, jumping out of the path of cabs as we strolled down Alaskan Way. We approached the familiar wood building on Pier 54, with the gold lettering on the side of the building reading,
Ye Old Curiosity Shop
.
My stomach gurgled.

I halted in the middle of a crosswalk. “No way. I’m not going in there.”

When we were kids, we begged relentlessly to be taken to the Curiosity Shop. Fake vomit, voodoo dolls, mummies, skeletons, and shrunken heads greeted you within its walls. There was something about seeing Siamese twin calves in a glass box and a mummified two-headed calf that made me want to lose my lunch. It was one of the weirdest stores I’d ever seen, and remained so even though I walked past an erotic bakery on the way to the bus stop every day.

Gabe pulled my hand. “Come on, you’re in the middle of the street. Don’t tell me you’re still scared of this place.”

“There’s a mummy with a dislocated jaw. It’s disgusting,” I whined.

He started singing as we approached the heavy wooden doors. “Violet’s a chicken, Violet’s a chicken…”

“I am not a chicken.”

“Fine.” He smiled, and gazed at the waterfront. “How about some lunch?”

I followed Gabe’s line of sight and let out a whoop of joy. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

We walked to the Chowder Shack, where Nora and Guthrie had taken us as kids for chowder and fresh clams. Knowing my favorites, Gabe ordered our meals, then picked a table overlooking the water where the ferry boats all sat on the waters of the Puget Sound. The cries of gulls circled over our heads, begging for some of our French fries, while we unwrapped our newspaper-ensconced meals. Everything about that sight—the water, the crowds milling about, the cooks deep-frying fish a few feet away—brought me back to my childhood growing up with the Parker family. When I watched Gabe squirting fresh lemon over his salmon and fries, his lips pursed in concentration, I felt a rush of nostalgia.

There was something about sitting on the pier eating greasy seafood wrapped in newspaper with Gabe that made me believe that if I jumped off the dock, I would take flight. Over the years, Gabe and I lost sight of where we began. Two goofy kids who could make each other laugh so hard that we were sick. That was it.

I snatched up my lemon wedge and squeezed it in Gabe’s face.

He spun in my direction. “What…the…
hell
?”

I blinked innocently. “What?”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Vi.”

Leaning in close to his face, my eyes narrowed. “Oh, I’ll finish it, Parker. Don’t you worry about that.” As soon as I finished the sentence, I smashed the lemon wedge on the top of his head.

His frown melted into a familiar wicked smirk. “Oh,
it’s on
.” His own lemon wedge came down on the sleeve of my sweater with a smack, soaking the wool.

My mouth dropped open with false horror, and Gabe watched me with wide eyes, anticipating the rush of curse words I would surely throw at him. But instead of getting mad, I decided revenge was on the menu, so I reached into my cup of soda and tossed a small handful of ice at his chest.

Gabe didn’t say a word. He just smirked, glancing over his shoulders at the other customers, who were stuffing their faces with deep-fried Pacific seafood, oblivious to our behavior. He calmly tore open a ketchup packet and positioned it precariously above my feet. “Want to call a truce, Vi?”

“Watch it.” I pointed a warning finger at him. “These are my favorite boots.”

He leaned in close to me. Really close. Our faces were just an inch or two apart, and the smirk on Gabe’s face made the air between us feel thick. “Oh, yeah?” he taunted. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

I focused on the middle of Gabe’s lower lip, and a flash of unexpected courage rippled through me. “Try me.”

But before Gabe could respond, I grabbed a handful of grease-soaked fries and tossed them on his lap. They scattered around his feet, and he was immediately inundated with hungry seagulls. Several of the other customers took notice as the birds flocked underneath the patio roof, their cries filling the air.

“Oh, shit,” I whispered, looking at Gabe, who was frozen with another lemon wedge in his hand.

“We should go,” he said, suppressing a laugh. “Grab your food.”

A frustrated cry came from the manager, who was now shooing the gulls away from angry customers while Gabe and I stampeded away.

We didn’t stop running until we were a few blocks down the pier. Tears mixed with lemon juice ran down my face, and we sat down on a cement bus bench.

“My mom would be so ashamed.” Gabe laughed. “She would threaten never to take us again.”

“Nora always said we didn’t deserve to go back to that place. I think she was right.” I wiped my cheeks with a napkin, then handed it to him.

He took it and began swiping at the streaks of ketchup on his jeans. “Thanks.”

I ate some fries, looking over my shoulder a few times to make sure the manager of the shack hadn’t chased us down the pier. There was something about behaving like an adolescent that made me forget everything. I looked over at Gabe’s chiseled profile, and was reminded how drunk I felt whenever I was with him.

Without thinking about it, I sighed contentedly and rested my head on Gabe’s shoulder. “I miss this.”

He gazed down at me. “Miss what?”

Looking up into his light eyes, I shrugged. “Us.”

Gabe rested his chin on the top of my head, and I could hear his heart pumping. Or maybe it was mine, I’m not sure.

“Me, too,” he whispered.

Though I knew we both had significant others waiting for us back at home, I couldn’t help but think that there was nowhere else in the world I wanted to be. Sitting there, with my head on his shoulder, his mouth breathing warm air over my hair, was as close to heaven as I could get.

But I would be lying if I didn’t admit that Gabe’s wedding date and my jambalaya dinner with Landon were hanging over my head like a cloud full of Seattle rain.