On the Rocks(47)
The boys had thoroughly enjoyed making dinner. Wolf took control of the cooking process, his European sense of refinement clearly making him the most qualified guy for the job. As he dropped lobsters into the enormous pot of boiling water, Bobby stood at his side making the screeching noise from Psycho and pretending to stab the crustaceans to death before Wolf closed the lid on them. Bobby then went outside and leaned against the railing, smoking cigarettes and barking orders from the deck. “Turn up the flame, use the other burner, only cook two lobsters at a time.” Grace and I sat outside and listened to music, wanting no part in the great lobster massacre. Now that it was time to eat I stared down at my plate and felt strange for two reasons: one, I hated to somehow benefit from Johnny’s psychological warfare against my best friend; and two, I was pretty sure I was about to eat a lobster named Snappy.
Wolf raised his red Solo cup to toast. “To Gracie, and her awesome boyfriend who sent us these lobsters. I like this guy. I think you should be keeping him.” Apparently, the way to a man’s heart really is through his stomach.
Bobby leaned over to talk to Grace and me at the end of the table. “You know, if you guys ever do get married, you can register for those little lobster forks,” he laughed. “We could use some of those right about now.”
“I promise you, if I ever get to register, I’ll throw some lobster forks on there and give them to you for Christmas,” Grace said.
“Awesome,” he replied as he attacked the tail, squirting lobster juice all over me.
I playfully tossed a wadded-up paper towel at Bobby and said a silent apology to Snappy—before ripping his giant right claw off his body with my bare hands.
Chapter 12
Beware of Guys Who Say You Look Like a Celebrity . . . They’re Either Lying or Have Cataracts
THE FOLLOWING WEDNESDAY I went into work and discovered that it was going to be a painfully slow day. Thankfully, late in the afternoon Lara appeared, and I ran down the street to get us iced coffees in the hopes of making the afternoon pass a little faster.
I liked talking to Lara because she was a fantastic listener. I was beginning to find it slightly odd, though, that she never talked about her husband or her own personal life. I considered her a friend, but I really didn’t know the first thing about her, which, when I thought about it, was kind of a strange position to be in. Anyway, I wasn’t letting it bother me. June was quickly approaching its end, and the beginning of July didn’t mean only the height of the summer and an increase in temperature were approaching—it also meant Katie’s wedding was just a month away. I needed to talk to someone about how I was feeling, and I felt like I had exhausted Grace so much over the last few months I couldn’t ask her to listen to me complain about anything else. Lara, on the other hand, was always asking how I was doing, what was new, and what I was up to, so I didn’t feel like I was bugging her by telling her what was on my mind.
The bell over the door rang when I reentered the store, and I found Lara sitting exactly where I had left her, behind the register staring into space. I handed her the iced coffee, tucked my purse away in the closet in the back, and then sat next to her. Lara’s thin blue dress was probably a size 0 but was still too big for her, and she looked tired. Way too tired for someone her age who was living at the beach and got off work every day at 6:00 P.M.
“I’m dreading this wedding,” I admitted as we sat behind the register drinking coffee and waiting for customers. “I feel awful about it, I mean she’s my only sister. I should be thrilled to see her this happy, but the thought of having to go to her wedding makes me want to stick my head in the oven. What kind of person does that make me?”
“It makes you normal. You had a bad breakup, everyone struggles with some irrational emotions after they go through something traumatizing, and a wedding is the complete opposite of that. It’s not strange that you’d be conflicted over it.”
“Maybe it’s normal, I don’t know. I think what kills me is that now that she’s on such bridal autopilot she’s acting like nothing happened to me, like everything is just fine. I don’t think she appreciates how hard it is for me to have had my engagement canceled and then have to jump into being her maid of honor. It’s such a mind-f*ck. She doesn’t get it.”
Lara stared at me, stunned, and then tried to busy herself with the previous day’s receipts to make the moment less awkward. I hadn’t meant to tell her, I really hadn’t. It just slipped out. Katie’s wedding made it impossible for me to think about anything else.
“I didn’t realize you were engaged, Abby. I’m really sorry.”
“Yeah,” I said as I tried to pretend it was no big deal. “It was a while ago, and I’m doing much better now, but all this dating stuff is hard. And apparently I suck at it.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. I hated dating and wanted so badly to be off the singles circuit, and I was only in my twenties. I’m sure it’s been frustrating for you to have to get back out there,” Lara said in a tone so laced with sympathy it was hard for me to hear it. She was right, though. Accepting what had happened meant being able to attend other people’s weddings and not want to go cry in a corner somewhere. Life goes on.
“It’s been interesting, that much I can tell you,” I joked. “Anyway, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I’ll get through the wedding, and hopefully I’ll be able to locate the normal emotions that I should be feeling and actually find myself happy for her. But enough about me. How long have you been married?” I asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from myself and my demons and give Lara an opportunity to open up.