On the Rocks (21 page)

“I am too,” I admitted. And I was. I only hoped it wasn’t too good to be true.

A
FEW HOURS LATER,
when Grace and I agreed that we were both perfectly accessorized, we headed over to the beach party otherwise known as the clam jam. Wolf and Bobby bounded through the parking lot toward the sand, already a bit buzzed from the beers they’d drunk at the house while Grace and I were primping. We discussed the fact that I had to head back to the city the following week for Katie’s final dress fitting and checked out our reflections in each other’s sunglasses to make sure that our hair remained straight after the hour we had spent using flat irons. As we approached the beach and the crowd came into view, I almost keeled over with shock. It was packed with people, all of them drinking, laughing, and having fun. I had found the motherland.

My phone rang right as we were about to join the party. I checked the caller ID. It was Katie, and since her wedding was only a few weeks away, I knew I had to answer it. I stopped at the foot of the stairs. “I’ll meet up with you down there, go ahead.”

“Okay!” they yelled in unison as they sped off in front of me, kicking their shoes into the pile of sandals that had accumulated on the sand.

“What’s up?” I asked as I watched my friends disappear into the crowd.

“Hey, Abby! How’s it going?” a happy Katie chirped in my ear.

“Pretty good, but I’m at a party, so talk fast,” I said, jamming my finger in my ear so I could block out the noise from the party and the breeze.

“I need a favor. Can you pick up my wedding undies and bring them to my fitting next week? I’m swamped, and I won’t have time to get them.”

“I’m sorry, did you say wedding undies? I don’t know what those are.”

“You know, the underwear with
BRIDE
written across the butt in rhinestones for my wedding day. I have them on hold at Intimacy in the Back Bay. Can you grab them for me?”

“Sure,” I said, hoping the sudden sadness I felt didn’t resonate in my voice. “I’m coming home on Wednesday, so I’ll pick them up on the way.”

“Great! I don’t mean to be a pain, but please, please, don’t forget. I will just die if I don’t have them.”

“Why? It’s just underwear. It’s not your dress.” I didn’t mean to sound snippy. I just could not believe that I was now reduced to picking up her underwear. How the mighty had fallen. And hard.

“You’ll understand someday, Abby,” she said, the words stinging like I had been attacked by a swarm of jellyfish. I was aware of how important the little things were to brides. What I didn’t understand was why she thought this was a normal thing to ask me to do from across state lines.

“I’ll bring your underwear, Katie. I’ll see you next week.” I hung up on her and felt my mood begin to turn. I had been really looking forward to this party, and now Katie’s reminder that the wedding was fast approaching and that I wasn’t the bride, only the maid of honor who had to fetch underwear, was depressing.

I walked past the crowd of people gathered around various kegs and grills and wandered aimlessly off down the beach, my little sister’s request still ringing in my ears. I wasn’t sure why I was having such a strong reaction to her phone call, but I had had enough mood swings over the past year to know that sometimes they came when you least expected them and that when they did, it was better to work through them alone.

When I was far enough away that I could hear myself think, I sat down on the sand and threw my head back to stare at the stars. I said out loud to the waves as they crashed against the beach, “Fuck my life.” I meant it. This was not how I wanted this night to go.

“And here I was hoping that you were going to tell me that you were still in a good mood,” Bobby joked. “What are you doing? I saw you walking down the beach looking like someone had stolen your lollipop. Are you okay?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He sat down and handed me one of the two red Solo cups he was carrying. “Thank you,” I said with a weak smile. I placed the cup on the hard sand in front of me. I struggled to make small talk and force my feelings back into my emotional basement where they belonged. “Have you been to this thing before?”

“No,” he replied. “It’s . . . uhh . . . not really my scene. There are at least three different guys over there named Chad, did you know that?” He pointed back to the Polo-clad guys surrounding the keg, looking like a walking pack of Starbursts.

“I didn’t know that, actually. I haven’t been in there yet. I got a phone call from my sister and decided I needed a few minutes alone before I joined everyone.”

“Sorry to spoil your alone time.”

I shrugged again. “It’s fine.” He tilted his red cup toward mine, and we clanked them together, spilling beer foam onto my hand. He produced a napkin from his pocket and handed it to me.

“Thanks,” I said.

“No problem. But since I did bring you this beer, free of charge I might add, are you going to tell me why you want to fuck your life?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual nonsense that seems to follow me everywhere I go.”

“Like what? More wedding stuff?”

I didn’t answer. It
was
wedding stuff, but I guess it was a little more than that too.

“Come on. You owe me,” he said.

“Fine. Yeah, the wedding stuff. I won’t get into all the details, but for a lot of reasons my little sister’s wedding has me in a funk. It’s kind of held a magnifying glass up to my own life and made me look at where I am. It’s not where I thought I’d be, believe me.”

“You’re at a party on one of the prettiest beaches in the country. Where else would you rather be? A lot of people would kill to be you.”

“If you knew the full story, I think you’d retract that statement.”

“Do you want to tell me?”

“Let’s just say it was a bad breakup and leave it at that.”

“Okay. Just so you know, I’m going to keep trying until I catch you at a weak moment and you tell me the full story.”

He really didn’t know who he was dealing with. I’d wire my jaw shut before I’d tell him what had happened. It wouldn’t even be a big deal. If I couldn’t lose these extra pounds before the wedding, it might come to that anyway.

“Look,” he continued, “I’m thirty-three, single, and currently in between jobs. Do you think when I graduated law school this is where I thought I’d be? You can’t plan everything in life. Stop looking at what’s gone wrong and start appreciating what you’ve done right. To people who don’t know that you’re a walking basket case, you seem like you’ve got it all together. I mean it.”

I laughed. “I’m so not together it’s a joke. And now I have to go to my sister’s alone, not to mention the fact that I have to get her wedding underwear.”

“You have to get your sister underwear?” he asked, confused.

“Yup.”

“Girls are weird.”

“I’m leaving on Wednesday for her dress fitting. I’m going to need Xanax to get through this.”

“I have some if you want them.”

“What are you, a dealer now? Or do you just offer narcotics to chicks to get them stoned so they’ll go out with you?” I joked. I looked at Bobby sitting next to me, just trying to be a good friend. I realized how badly I had misjudged him.

“We’ve come a long way since we first met, huh?” I asked him as I bumped his shoulder with mine. “You’re not nearly as big a jerk as I thought you were.”

He rested his forearms on his knees as he buried his feet in the sand. “Aww shucks. Thanks . . . you weren’t the friendliest person when we first met either, you know.”

“Fine. But you came on a little strong, don’t you think? I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to handle you being so . . . you.”

“I get that a lot. People either love me or hate me. I thought you were a cool girl, so I guess I messed with you more than I should have considering I really didn’t know you. I wanted us to be friends, and I guess I thought it’d be okay if I ripped on you, sort of like an older brother or something. Sorry if I took it a little too far.”

“It’s not a big deal. I kind of like it. But does this mean that you’ll stop making fun of me now?”

“No way. It’s just too easy most of the time.”

“Thanks.”

“I liked you off the bat, for what it’s worth. Even if I thought you were a humungous pain in the ass with way too many defensive mechanisms, and I had no romantic interest in you whatsoever . . .”

“Sweet-talker.”

“You know what I mean. But I get it, you’ve been through the ringer. Do you want my advice?” he asked.

“I’ve already told you, I don’t.”

“As a general rule, I think long-distance relationships are a bad idea.”

“And you apparently still don’t care.” I sighed.

“How could someone who hates modern technology, won’t get on Facebook, won’t use Twitter, detests all of that stuff—hell, you’d still have a rotary phone or a walkie-talkie if you could find one—think that dating long-distance is a good idea? With Ben, of all guys? Didn’t he move away and leave you here by choice?”

“I don’t want to talk about him. It’s complicated.”

“Maybe so, but from what I’ve heard through the grapevine . . .”

“You mean Grace?”

“I cannot reveal my sources.”

“Okay, Brian Williams.”

“It sounds like your ex was way too much like you in a lot of ways. It never would’ve worked. So it doesn’t matter how it ended, because it had an expiration date.”

“What are you talking about? You don’t even know him!”

“I don’t need to. I know his type.”

“Be careful here, Bobby,” I warned. I wasn’t about to let him completely degrade my almost-but-not-really-husband. Is nothing sacred anymore?

“You should seek out someone opposite to you. A yin to the yang, if you will.”

“Oh God, now you’ve gone Far Eastern on me. I appreciate it, but I really don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“Okay. Anyway, don’t let it get you down. You’re doing great. You’re a whole different person than the one I met Memorial Day.”

“Do you mean that?” For some reason, it made me feel better if he actually meant it. Maybe it was because I knew Bobby would never hand out empty praise, or maybe it was because I had grown to actually value his opinion. Just a little bit.

“Sure,” he said as he stood and brushed the sand off his calves. “Are you ready to go join the party? Or are you going to stand over here by yourself to contemplate how much you hate your life and leave me alone with all the Chads?” He smiled a crooked grin, almost goofy, but somehow still . . . cute.

“I think you can take them,” I joked. I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me up from the sand.

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Can’t you just see the headlines on the news? ‘Crazy Unemployed Lawyer Kills Multiple Chads in Newport Beach Brawl.’ ”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for that. Let’s go.”

We walked back toward the reggae band and the large bonfire that was burning about a hundred yards away. “I’ll leave you to find Grace,” he said. “Cheer up. It’s just underwear.”

I laughed out loud. Indeed it was. “Thanks for the beer and for the chat. I actually feel much better.”

“Don’t sweat it, and don’t waste your time worrying about the wedding and all that girl stuff. It’s a Saturday on the beach. You’re supposed to be having a good time.”

“I am. I promise.” I might have even meant it. I wasn’t sure.

I wove through the crowd looking for Lara and Grace, digging through my clutch for my phone. When I checked it, I discovered that I had two text messages from Ben. I refused to check them. Instead, I silenced my ringer and threw it back in my purse. I felt better after talking to Bobby and was determined to enjoy this party. I didn’t see Lara anywhere and realized that she’d opted to stay home rather than join us for the party. I knew better than anyone that if she wanted to be alone, there was nothing anyone could do to force her out, but I figured at least I had tried. Sometimes that’s all you can do.

I gazed into the crowd, trying to locate Grace, and before I knew what happened a guy who was apparently chasing a wayward football knocked me on my ass. So much for that.

“What the hell?” I said as I tried to get my bearings. This was getting ridiculous. Now strangers at parties were physically assaulting me. People wouldn’t believe this if I told them.

“Oh Jesus, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” the guy said as he helped me up. “Are you okay?” he asked as he awkwardly tried to brush sand off my legs.

“No, I’m fine. It was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention either,” I said as I shook out my hair.

“I’m Pete,” he said with a smile, revealing a slightly crooked left incisor. I caught myself wondering if he would be adverse to Invisalign braces to fix his snaggletooth.

It was becoming painfully obvious that I really needed to rewire my brain.

“I’m Abby,” I said shyly. I pushed my hypercritical thoughts to the back of my mind where they belonged. If he was looking at me the same way I was examining him, I was screwed. I’d missed my last lip wax appointment, so he was probably wondering if I was planning on auditioning for the role of the bearded lady in the circus. I had to try to get to know this guy, see if we had anything in common, figure out if he was a serial killer before I eliminated him as an option.

“Listen,” he said as he awkwardly scratched the nape of his neck. “The least I can do is buy you a beer after I mowed you over like that. Care to accompany me to the keg?”

“Sure, why not?” I said, realizing that the beer Bobby had given me was gone. I smiled nervously at Pete, turned, and walked with him toward the keg. There was no reason not to. This is what dating was, right? Having beers with a strange guy who levels you on the beach. It’s almost poetic. A weird, tragic, bizarre poem, but poetic nonetheless. He was cute, not traditionally good-looking, but definitely not bad. His shirt was open, revealing a chest that was so hairy it looked like he was wearing a fur vest in summer, but then again, I was trying not to be too judgmental of people these days, so I decided to let it go. If this ever went anywhere, I figured I could just get him really drunk and wax it in his sleep.