The Year We Turned Forty (34 page)

Grant smiled and checked his watch. “We still have some time before the big reveal. Let's get some pictures.”

They'd stood under the birthday banner and posed for photos, all of them glancing at the front door—Jessie wondering when Peter and Cathy would walk through it and wishing when they did, nothing bad would happen; Gabriela wanting to see Colin, praying he didn't have a change of heart after their conversation the night before; and Claire, anxious to see Mason, her heart fluttering at the thought of kissing him, hoping the others decided to stay here so she could have the life with him she didn't get the first time around.

Gabriela clinked Grant's glass and tipped hers back into her mouth, letting the warm liquid slide down her throat before pounding the shot glass down on the bar, laughing as Grant lifted his hand to high-five her. “I told you it would go down smooth as silk,” he said, having followed her to the bar after he'd announced he had a surprise for them later. Gabriela found herself laughing at his use of the cliché phrase despite the tension that was gripping her chest with each passing hour, her watch now indicating it was 9 p.m. Never in her life had she wanted time to go slower. Colin still hadn't arrived and she feared he might not. She needed to see him one more time before leaving, even though she was going back to the version of Colin that seemed to like her much better.

She searched Grant's open, delighted face, pondering whether or not he really had no clue Lucas wasn't his. Gabriela had known Jessie for thirty years—and was shocked Jessie was capable of pulling off that kind of deception, of hiding it from not just her, but from her own husband. That constant thought
was the reason she hadn't been able to completely let go of the anger she felt toward both her and Claire.

Gabriela thought about Colin—how she had felt that light in his eyes go out when he looked at her this past year. With him, it had been more of a slow leak that drained until it was empty. She knew the reason Jessie and Grant had gotten divorced last time hadn't been because they grew apart or fell out of love or whatever half-truth Jessie had told her, but they'd split because Grant couldn't continue on in their marriage after what Jessie had done. So Gabriela could almost understand why Jessie would do just about anything not to let it happen again with Grant in this life, why she might keep the truth from him this time.

Gabriela was putting off talking to Jessie and Claire, deliberately avoiding them since seeing them earlier that night. She knew it was cruel, that their fate was intertwined with hers and it wasn't fair to make them wait to hear what she was thinking. She was still determined to return to the night one year ago when they'd held hands and took the leap of faith in Blair's dressing room. And judging by the way Claire was embracing Mason, who had just walked through the door, and by what she knew of Claire's newfound relationship with Emily, she suspected she wasn't on the same page. There was a part of Gabriela that wanted to give this one to Claire, that wanted to hand her the happiness that seemed to elude her before. No matter the secrets she had kept, Gabriela still loved her and wanted the best for her friend. But the taste of failure in this life, something she'd never dealt with before, felt stronger than her need to help Claire. And she hated herself for that. Sure, she'd had her share of hard times, but she had always managed to rise from the ashes and let the pain strengthen her. For that reason, she'd been appalled at how weak she'd become, how she'd managed to lose everything that
was important to her this past year—her husband, her career, and the dream of having a child. No matter what her
abuela
had whispered the other night, a dream that had been playing in a loop in the back of her head ever since, she knew it was time to go back.

She was less sure of Jessie's choice—there was so much to lose if she stayed. But then again, she had gone through it before and survived, so maybe she was willing to take the risk again?

Blair had warned them if they weren't in agreement about staying that he would send them back. Gabriela swallowed hard, knowing she was likely to be the holdout, and that her voice wasn't going to be loud enough to change her friends' minds. Unless she did something drastic, something that forced her friends to want to return, she worried they may end up resenting her for being the catalyst for sending them back. Grant slid another Fireball shot across the bar and raised his eyebrows in question, pulling her from her thoughts. She wrapped her fingers around the glass. She couldn't gamble her friendships just to get back with Colin and put her career back on track, could she? She eyed the shot, knowing she should say no, that being sober was critical when she would be making the most important decision of her life, but instead she smiled wryly. “Why not?” she said, then kicked it back, wiping her mouth afterward.

Grant laughed. “Just don't blame me for your hangover tomorrow.”

Gabriela only smiled, not wanting to think about where she'd be waking up the next day or the feelings that would come along with it.

•  •  •

Mason spun Claire around on the dance floor and dipped her dramatically as she watched helplessly as Gabriela powered
down another shot. Great, all they needed was for her to get wasted on the most important night of their lives. Gabriela hadn't said outright that she wasn't going to stay, but Claire knew her friend, and she could see it in her inability to look at them, feel it in her awkward embrace. She needed to get to her, to make her understand why it was a bad idea to go back, why their lives would be far better if they stayed here. Only she wasn't sure Gabriela's life would actually be improved. By what she'd seen so far, it had only gotten worse.

And then there was Jessie. She had whispered in Claire's ear earlier that she was leaning toward staying. Claire had squeezed her hand and thanked her, Jessie quickly adding not to thank her yet, that the night wasn't over. This caused Claire to wonder, again, what had happened to the three of them, that they'd seemed to have lost the blind trust they'd once had, back when they were just three girls who worked in a restaurant, with big dreams and hopeful hearts. No matter what happened tonight, she vowed to rebuild that, no matter how long it took.

“What time is it?” Emily's voice snapped her back into the moment.

“Nine thirty. That's the third time you've asked since we got here. Everything okay?” Claire asked, studying Emily's face. “You bored already? It looks like there are some kids around your age over there,” Claire said, pointing in the direction of a group of teens drinking sodas near the dance floor, and Emily rolled her eyes and walked in their direction.

Claire glanced back at the bar, where Grant was now sitting alone. She scanned the room until she found Gabriela, sipping champagne and looking melancholy as she watched the crowd. She'd mentioned earlier that she thought Colin was coming, but there was still no sign of him. Claire knew she should go talk to
her friend and make her feel better, but instead, she let her hand fall from Mason's and started to walk in the opposite direction of Gabriela, an idea forming in her head. They didn't have much time left and there were things Claire needed to say. That way, no matter what happened, she wouldn't have any regrets.

She had made it only a few steps when a strong hand cupped her shoulder. Later, she'd tell Jessie there was something familiar about the way his fingers felt, that maybe she'd even known who it was before she turned around. But even so, her stomach still fell to the floor when she turned to see Emily's father, David, standing right in front of her.

•  •  •

Jessie twirled each of her daughters on the dance floor and tried to stay present, to embrace the moment, the way Madison's head tilted back as she sang the chorus to “Hollaback Girl” and how Morgan jumped up and down unapologetically. She saw Madison smile and wave to Emily as she walked up, thrilled the twins had both grown close to Emily after the day she'd brought them over to Claire's. Emily had told Claire that she'd loved how the twins were constantly asking her advice on things like how to get the cute boy in their class to play dodgeball with them at recess. And Jessie thought of Lucas sleeping soundly in an upstairs back bedroom with a babysitter looking in on him. She ignored the temptation to turn toward where Peter and Cathy stood. She could feel Peter watching her as he drank the expensive scotch he held up like a trophy to Grant when he'd arrived. But so far, that had been their only interaction, Jessie discreetly monitoring Peter's every move since he'd arrived, just in case.

Claire had been anxious earlier, wanting a commitment from Jessie to stay. And oh how Jessie wanted to give it to her.
Although she'd fantasized about it often in her old life, she'd forgotten the pureness of the way Grant loved her before he found out about Peter. So many nights, Jessie lay in bed and tried to pinpoint when she'd decided his love wasn't enough for her, why she'd let Peter give her something she'd
thought
was missing. At the time of the affair, she'd blamed Grant. She'd confused his contentment for complacency. And later, she'd harshly chided herself for her selfishness. But lately, she'd come to the conclusion that the way it had played out before may have been part of the journey she was meant to endure. That maybe the only way people could know how much they loved something was to be faced with a chance they might lose it. It didn't mean you should live in constant fear, but rather it should serve as a reminder that love should never be squandered. Now she understood the value of Grant's love and the love of her family—and whether she stayed here or went back, she would never forget to appreciate the power of love.

•  •  •

“What are you doing here?” Claire tried to catch her breath as she took in the man in front of her. The man who had walked out of their lives years ago, the same one she'd tried to keep away ever since.

David cocked his head toward Emily, who had come back from the dance floor, her face contorted with a mixture of excitement, happiness, and apprehension. “I got the letter you sent me from Emily. We've been exchanging emails and a few phone calls since then—that's when she invited me.”

“Why didn't you tell me he responded? Why did you go behind my back?” Claire surprised herself by the loudness of her voice, deliberately not looking at Mason, not wanting to
see his expression. She thought of the last time she'd been with him, how the drama with Emily had always bothered him and eventually sent him away, even without David's presence. Claire cringed to think what that added stress might to do to their relationship in the long term.

“He's my dad, Mom. I have a right to see him. And I didn't want you to get in the way of that. Again.”

“Not like this, Em. To bring him here, of all nights. It's not fair,” Claire said, looking around to see if anyone was watching. But all of the party guests seemed immersed in their own worlds, as if this scene—one Claire had been petrified of for years—wasn't unfolding right in front of them.

“What do you know about fair, Mom? You lied to me. You said he wanted nothing to do with us. You made me believe he didn't love me.” Emily cast her eyes downward, filling Claire with both rage and shame.

There was truth to her words, of course. Claire
had
pushed David away. But she'd done it to protect Emily. Or maybe herself. She wasn't sure anymore. All she knew in this moment was
she
had raised Emily.
She
had been there every day of her life—nursed her through fevers and flus, supported her through sadness and heartbreak, taught her right from wrong. She wasn't going to let this man waltz in here and take those years from her.

“I was just trying to protect you.” Out of the corner of her eye, Claire spied Jessie flying in from the outside, her eyes widening as she spotted David standing in her foyer, walking over and standing next to Claire.

“Are you okay?” she asked, nodding a greeting to David before grabbing Claire's hand and squeezing it tight.

“Hi, Jessie,” David said quietly, not taking his eyes off Claire.

“No, I'm not okay,” Claire replied, still unable to look at Mason.

“Let's all calm down.” David reached out to touch Claire's arm and she pulled back as if she'd been burned. Claire took him in, his chocolate eyes that matched Emily's, his thick shaggy hair that needed a handful of pomade to behave, the ten pounds he'd put on since she'd last seen him.

“Don't tell me what to do,” Claire hissed. “How dare you come here without asking!”

“Are you really going to judge me? After you kept my letters from Emily for all these years?”

“I thought I was doing the right thing. And I did send her response. Eventually,” Claire said quietly.

“
After
she found the letters you had hidden.”

“True,” Claire said. “I wanted to protect her,” she said again, finally meeting Mason's eyes. She'd told Mason the truth just last week, deciding if she did stay here, she couldn't keep that from him. She needed to know he wouldn't judge her. And he hadn't—he'd seemed to understand her need to shield Emily from David. Or at least the David she used to know.

“I'm not trying to cause drama here. Emily told me she was going to tell you I was coming,” David said, glancing at Emily, who looked away. “Obviously she didn't. I'm sorry, Claire. I know this isn't the best timing. And I realize I haven't always done the right thing. But the fact is, I'm here now. And I want to be a part of my daughter's life. And obviously she wants me to be a part of hers. So are you really going to stand in the way of that? Especially when she's telling you it's what she wants too?”

Claire sucked in a deep breath before answering, feeling as if the room were spinning. And then she felt Mason place his hand firmly on the small of her back in support and she felt herself
exhale. She locked eyes with Jessie, remembering their conversation from yesterday. Claire had gently suggested that maybe it wouldn't be the end of the world if Peter did become a bigger part of Lucas' life, that it didn't sound like Jessie was going to be able to hold him off for much longer if they ended up staying here. Jessie had mumbled something under her breath and quickly changed the subject. Claire hadn't pushed it, knowing her advice would sound horribly hypocritical, considering her own choices.