The Ex by Freida McFadden(39)

“This is a great apartment,” Cassie murmurs.

“Isn’t it though?” Lydia beams. “It was a steal. Only four million.”

Only four million? Jesus Christ.

Pete wanders over to them, swaying drunkenly on his feet. He’s dressed as somebody from Star Wars—maybe Obi Won Kenobi. When he catches sight of Cassie, his eyes widen much the same as Joel’s did. “Whoa,” he says. Then he laughs nervously.

Cassie isn’t sure what’s so damn funny, but she doesn’t want to be as rude as he’s being. “Hi, Pete,” she says.

She glances over at the table with the alcohol and Joel is still there. Still drinking. What is going on with him tonight?

“You look… nice, Cassie.” Pete’s slurring his words very slightly. He’s drunk. But not as drunk as Joel will be shortly. “Interesting costume.”

“Uh, thanks,” Cassie says.

Lydia shoots Pete a look. “Didn’t I tell you, Peter: only three drinks! No more.”

“Sorry, Mommy,” Pete slurs.

Lydia flashes Pete a dirty look, but doesn’t say anything more, which is a wise move on her part. In Cassie’s experience, men who are that drunk are not great people to engage in serious discussions. It’s clear Pete has already surpassed the three drink limit.

Now that they’re done with the grand tour, Lydia leads Cassie over to the drinks table. Joel has finally wandered off, which is a relief. She isn’t sure how much he’s had to drink, but she’s sure it’s a lot. She doesn’t think she can carry him home.

Con’s wife Anna is standing by the drinks, eying the alcoholic beverages somewhat longingly. She looks adorable in a dress that is essentially a snowman, with the face painted on her upper chest and the bulge of her pregnant belly making up the snowman’s belly. Anna starts to smile, but it vanishes instantly when she gets a good look at Cassie.

“Oh,” Anna says, “hi… um, Cassie, right?”

Cassie frowns at her reaction. “That’s right. Cute costume.”

“Oh,” she says again. She puts a hand protectively over her abdomen. “Thanks.”

Cassie waits a beat for a compliment from Anna but it never comes. “How are you feeling?”

“Good…” Anna flips her hair over her shoulder. “But… um, would you excuse me?”

And then Anna gets out of there like Cassie’s got the plague.

Well, that was weird.

Cassie studies the various bottles of alcoholic beverages. She needs a drink like five minutes ago. Lydia picks up a bottle of champagne, pours it into a glass, and shoves it into Cassie’s waiting hand. “That’s a Billecart-Salmon champagne.”

“Oh?”

“It goes for three-hundred dollars a bottle,” Lydia says.

Three-hundred? That means each sip is five bucks.

“It’s a dry wine with a high finish and long intensity,” Lydia explains.

She may as well be speaking in another language. Cassie takes a sip. “Oh.”

“Can you taste the hint of raspberry and almond?” Lydia asks.

Cassie takes another sip. It takes like every other champagne she’s ever tried. “Yes?”

Lydia laughs. “No, you can’t.”

Lydia’s laughter cuts into her like a knife. But Lydia’s been so nice to her until now… is it really such a big deal she’s making fun of her for not thinking this fancy three-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne tastes exactly like the ten-dollar bottle she got for New Year’s last year? Yes, it’s insulting. But it’s not the most pressing problem of the night.

The most pressing problem is how much Joel’s had to drink and where the hell he went off to.





Chapter 24: The Ex


Tonight is the night Lydia has her annual Halloween party. In celebration, I am getting drunk.

I’m sitting on the sofa, watching television and drinking vodka and orange juice from a mug. If Nonna walks in on me, I don’t want her to know I’m drinking hard liquor. She already thinks I’m a mess.

Lydia’s Halloween party is infamous. It’s funny because she never calls it a Halloween party, but it always takes place the weekend before Halloween. She calls it a “festive party,” which is vague enough. One thing you can count on is there will be lots of expensive hors d’oeuvres and lots of wine. So much wine.

I didn’t get an invitation this year. Even after Lydia’s little speech about how our friendship needed to cool off, I thought she’d still invite me. But nothing ever came in the mail.

I told myself maybe there’s an issue with my mail forwarding. Maybe she wanted to send it but she wasn’t sure of the new address. But I was kidding myself. Lydia knew she could only invite one of us, and she chose Joel. And his new girlfriend.

I’ve been holding onto Olive’s keys for two weeks, but I haven’t done anything with them. I have these fantasies about trashing her apartment, but would I really do it? That doesn’t seem like me. Then again, I’ve done a lot of things that haven’t seemed like me in the last few months.

The truth is that every time I think about Olive, I want to wring her pretty little neck.

Nonna pads into the living room in her pink housecoat and fuzzy slippers. She is wrinkled all the way down to her feet. It’s hard to imagine ever being that old. “What are you doing home on a Saturday night?”