On the Rocks (34 page)

“I’m going to say to you what Grace said to me when Ben left. You can’t sit home by yourself all the time. It’s not going to help you get over it.”

“Grace said that?”

“She did. See, she’s not the anti-Christ. Come on, it’ll be fun. Six o’clock okay?”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I’ll come.”

“Don’t worry,” I assured her. “It will get better.” I have no idea why I managed to be so upbeat about other people’s lives and yet could never muster the same positive thinking when it came to my own. I wanted Lara and Grace to make peace with each other because I had enough stress in my life to deal with and I really didn’t feel like playing referee to any more arguments between them. I decided not to tell Grace that Lara was going to come to the beach and meet us for two reasons: one, I wasn’t sure that Lara was actually going to show, and two, if Grace knew Lara was coming, I had no doubt that Grace wouldn’t.

A
T AROUND
6:00
P.M.,
Grace and I dragged our things to our usual spot on the beach and set up our chairs on the sand. We unpacked the wine and cheese we had brought with us for happy hour as I filled her in on what happened when Tom entered the store and how badly Lara felt about the things she had said. Grace didn’t seem to want to talk about Lara at all. In fact, as far as she was concerned, she never wanted to see Lara again. I also think part of Grace felt badly about some of the things she said to Lara, but she would never admit it. I thought that one of the reasons Grace was so upset was that deep down she agreed with some of the things Lara had said.

I glanced toward the parking lot and caught sight of Lara walking toward us. Now was as good a time as any to let Grace know she was coming.

“Oh, by the way, I invited Lara to join us,” I said casually, bracing for her reaction.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Abby? After what she said to me? Whose side are you on?”

“I’m not on a side. I’m trying to be impartial, but come on, Grace. From where she sits, it’s hard to be sympathetic toward your cause. Just hear her out, okay?”

Before Grace could answer, Lara approached us and waved shyly. “Hi, guys,” she said.

Grace pushed her large Chanel sunglasses up onto the top of her head and stared at Lara, letting her know without question that she was less than thrilled to see her. “This is the home-wrecking section of the beach,” Grace said as she dropped her shades back on her face. “The holy rollers sit to the right.”

Okay, so it was off to a rocky start.

“I’m sorry, Grace,” Lara said as she stood in front of her. “I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. I might not agree with everything you’re doing, but I basically blamed you for my husband cheating on me. It wasn’t fair.”

“No kidding it wasn’t fair. You don’t know what it’s been like for me either. I’m sorry about what happened to you, but that doesn’t mean that I have to listen to you insult me. I didn’t do anything to you, or your marriage, and so you should keep your opinions to yourself.”

“You’re right,” Lara said.

“I know I’m right,” Grace replied, a bit surprised by how easily Lara conceded. Today she was a very different person from the one screaming for married women’s rights everywhere yesterday.

“I shouldn’t have judged you the way I did. Your relationship is none of my business.”

“You’ve got that right,” Grace said, still miffed. She sat in her chair and wiggled her toes in the sand, not saying anything more. I sat quietly and tried in vain to untangle the cord on my headphones. I figured if I pretended to be busy, they wouldn’t mind having this conversation in front of me.

“I’m sorry. I really am,” Lara repeated.

“What do you want me to say?” Grace asked.

“I guess nothing really,” Lara said. “All I wanted to do is apologize. I’m not proud of myself for yelling at you like that. It’s kind of ironic, huh? You and I being on opposite sides of the same coin.”

“This coin sucks,” Grace sighed.

“Believe me, I know.”

“Does that make me the creamy filling in this bitter woman Oreo or what?” I asked from my seat between them.

Lara and Grace both turned to stare at me, but neither of them spoke. Apparently, it was still too early for humor. Noted.

“For what it’s worth,” Grace said quietly, “if I could do it over again, I’d do things differently. I guess at this stage it’s easier for me to be in the position I’m in if I don’t put a name or a face to the woman at home. You kind of made that impossible. It’s a lot to think about.”

“I guarantee you she’s put a face to you. And has probably thrown darts at it.”

“Interesting. And I guess I deserve that.”

Lara shrugged. “Regardless, it has nothing to do with me, and I’m really sorry. I’d like to be friends if you’ll forgive me.”

“I don’t know if the woman scorned and the woman who scorns can really ever be friends. It’s like cats and dogs sleeping together. It’s unnatural.”

Lara laughed. “I’d like to try, if for no other reason than I’d love to hear more about Abby’s dating project. I think she’s exaggerating some of this stuff.”

“Is that so?” I asked, not sure I wanted them to unite and join forces against me. This may have been a very bad idea.

“You know,” Grace said, warming a little, “if you really want to know about her dating project, you should ask Bobby. He’ll sing like a canary.”

I lay back on my giant yellow beach chair and felt every muscle in my body relax. I removed my sunglasses, closed my eyes, and enjoyed doing absolutely nothing. “That’s true, for some reason that I don’t yet fully understand, making fun of me is one of Bobby’s favorite pastimes.”

“Maybe he likes you,” Lara said. Grace and I turned to stare at her.

“What? What on earth would make you say that?” I asked.

“Maybe teasing you is his way of showing you he likes you. There’s this little boy I see at the park in town all the time, and he’s constantly kicking this one poor girl. I think he has a crush on her. Not that beating her up is a good thing, but it’s typical kid behavior. Maybe Bobby’s a shin-kicker.”

“He’s not a shin-kicker. That’s ridiculous,” I said.

“Maybe Lara’s right, Abby. Don’t get me wrong, Bobby drives a lot of people crazy for fun, but maybe him picking on you is his way of flirting.”

“I liked it much better when you two hated each other,” I joked.

“Oh, stop,” Grace said. “I’ll admit that his methods are immature for a grown man, but regardless, it’s flirting. You teach kindergarten. You should be familiar with this kind of behavior. Of course, when five-year-olds do it, it makes sense. When a thirty-three-year-old does, it’s like learning about a new species on the Discovery Channel.”

“We’re just friends. Is that so hard to believe?” They didn’t respond, like it was actually that hard to believe. This was pointless. “Can we talk about something else, please?” I begged.

“Okay,” Lara said as she turned to leave. “I should get going anyway. I just wanted to apologize, Grace. Maybe we can get drinks sometime.”

Grace stood and dropped her sunglasses on her towel. “I have a better idea. It’s way too nice a day to leave the beach. Stay for the sunset. I’m going to take a dip. Do you want to come?”

“Are you going to try and drown me?” Lara asked.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”

“Awww, this is great. Everyone is friends again, I wish I had a camera,” I said, surprising myself at how much like Bobby I sounded.

They turned and headed toward the water, and I breathed a sigh of relief that they were able to make amends. If poking fun at me and Bobby was what helped bridge their differences, then that was a small price to pay.

Chapter 22

Let’s Go Hammer Ourselves

I
NEVER THANKED
Bobby for following me home the night Ben surprised me at the bar, or even acknowledged that I knew he was there. Instead, I stopped complaining about him raiding our fridge and picked up extra packs of cigarettes for him when I was in town. These were small gestures that, like him walking me home, I hoped said things better than words ever could.

A few weeks later, on a particularly hot August Thursday, the boys and I spent the morning paddle-surfing—or more accurately, Wolf and Bobby paddle-surfed while I tried in vain for the better part of an hour to pull myself onto the board. Water sports were never my thing, but I still figured that counted as exercise for the day. You’d be surprising how strenuous it is to suck at surfing.

After a few hours we left the beach, and Wolf went home and took a nap. Bobby and I were sitting on the couch, talking about the pros and cons of men using hair gel, when Grace appeared at the screen door, her eyes bloodshot, her hair mussed, and her nails bitten down to the quick. You didn’t need a crystal ball to know who was responsible.

“I broke up with him. It’s over. This time it’s really over. I just put in for every vacation day I have for the rest of the year and got the hell out of Boston. I need a drink,” she said as she barged in, slamming the screen door so hard that it ricocheted against the wall before shutting.

I knew I’d never forget where I was when I heard this news, like my mother felt about Kennedy being shot, and Bobby felt about
The Girls Next Door
being canceled. Everyone has those defining moments in his life.

I grabbed her elbow and led her over to the couch, trying not to be surprised that she was here in the middle of the workweek or that she was able to drive down from Boston when she was such a wreck. Bobby, partially in an attempt to help his distraught friend and partially to keep himself busy so as to avoid the very girlie conversation that was about to take place, immediately poured vodka and a disproportionately small amount of club soda over ice and handed it to her. He slowly sat down on the edge of one of the wicker chairs adjacent to the couch, almost afraid to move.

“What happened?” I rubbed her back as she put her head between her knees in order to calm her breathing. Everyone had known it would end this way. Truthfully, I think she had known too.

“I did something really stupid.”

“You mean, like dating a married guy?” Bobby joked. I shot him a death stare. This was not the best time for sarcasm.

“I went to send him an email, telling him how much fun I had with him last night and how much I loved him.”

“What was last night?” I asked.

“He came over. We had dinner and watched a movie and talked about where we were going to live when we moved in together.” Grace had a sense of urgency in her voice I hadn’t heard in years. The last time she sounded this panicked was after she’d been thrown in the clink during college for having an open container of Pabst Blue Ribbon on the sidewalk. “Okay. Why’s that a problem?”

“I accidentally sent it to the entire team,” she said as she once again burst into sobs.

“Oh God. Please tell me it was a normal message and not some X-rated thing. You didn’t send him naked pictures, did you?” It seemed like a ridiculous question to have to ask, but “sexting,” as the kids were calling it these days, had become an ever-increasing phenomenon. It was one that I found profoundly stupid, but again, technology had changed courtship so much that it was as commonplace to shoot off inappropriate pictures to people as it was to ask about the weather. I really missed the old days, you know, when someone had to actually be in your presence in order to see you naked. I doubted that girls had sent nude Polaroids of themselves through the mail in the eighties. But the eighties had also been a crazy time, so maybe I’m naive.

“I really don’t think I want to know the answer to this,” Bobby said as he stood and headed for the door, deflecting my question regarding Grace’s potentially X-rated email. “I think I hear my mom calling me. I have to go.”

“Your mom lives in Florida,” I said.

“I know. She must be really mad.”

“Sit your ass down and shut up,” I said. He hung his head and returned to his seat on the wicker chair. If only boyfriends were so obedient.

“It wasn’t an X-rated message, but I went on and on about how much I loved him and how much I wanted to be with him. How could I make such a stupid mistake? I just announced to anyone with an IP address that I’m in love with a colleague. What the hell am I going to do?”

“How’d you manage to confuse his email address with a distribution list for your entire team? I don’t even know how that’s possible.” I felt horrible for Grace. This would cause her so much embarrassment at the office. She certainly wasn’t the first one to have a relationship blow up because of the Internet. In this room alone I knew for a fact she was at least the second, and there were only three of us present.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Can you recall it? Or pull the plug on the network? Or infect the place with some kind of virus?” My brain was spinning, trying to think of something to say to make this less of a disaster. It was pointless.

“No, Abby, believe it or not, I’m not technologically savvy enough to know how to crash the network of a major law firm. Thanks for that staggeringly helpful suggestion.”

“Okay,” I said, ignoring her sarcasm. “This is not the worst thing in the world. Do you know how many emails I ignore on a regular basis? I doubt that many people will even see it.”

“It gets worse,” she said, her entire upper body heaving.

Oh God. Grace backed into a corner was never a pretty sight.

“What did you do, Grace?” My question was met with silence. “Answer me.”

“The only thing I could do. He was out of the office at a client meeting, so I dug the spare key out of his secretary’s desk and broke into his office to delete it from his inbox.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding. Grace, you can be fired for breaking into your boss’s office and going through his emails! You can be fired for a lot of things you’re doing at that firm. Do you really need to add breaking and entering to your résumé?”

“This coming from the person who just suggested infecting the firm’s entire network with a virus!”