The Rest of the Story(56)

“That’s one of my favorites,” I heard someone say. “It’s such a lousy picture, but so real.”

I turned, facing Roo, who was now standing right behind me, a power strip in his hands. “That’s your dad, right?”

“Yep.” He squinted, leaning in a bit closer. “My mom says it was at a cookout at someone’s house. She’d just gotten into photography and was driving everyone crazy snapping pictures. That’s why Waverly isn’t even looking. She’d had enough.”

I looked at my mom again. She had on white shorts and a blue halter top, drugstore flip-flops on her feet. “Mimi said they were inseparable, her and your dad.”

“Yeah.” I watched as his gaze flicked to the other pictures, then came back to the one of our parents. “But our moms were actually super close as well. When mine moved here senior year, Waverly was the first person she met. She introduced her to Chris.”

“Where’s your mom now?” I asked.

“In the bedroom,” he said.

I looked at all the beers on the table in panic, not to mention the mess we’d made moving things around. “Seriously?”

“No.” He grinned at me. “She’s an ER nurse in Delaney and works nights. She’ll be back in the morning.”

“Ah,” I said. I looked at the shot of Chris, the redhead in his lap. “It must have been hard for your mom, losing a husband and one of her closest friends.”

“Yeah.” He was quiet for a second. “It was.”

I looked at the picture again. It seemed crazy that after all these years, I had never known about the accident until this summer. For so long I’d questioned why she was in such pain, what could have been so awful that haunted her. The answer, like this picture, had been here all along. I’d just had to come find it.

“You going to wear that?” Roo asked me now.

I blinked, unsure what he was talking about until he nodded at the corsage I was somehow still holding in my hand. “Well, it is a dance,” I said.

“You don’t put on your own corsage, though.” He placed the power strip on the kitchen counter, then reached out, taking the gardenia bundle from me. “Stand super still so I don’t stick you, though. I can’t take the sight of blood.”

“Blood?” I repeated, but he just smiled, gesturing for me to step closer. So I did.

And then he was reaching out to me, sliding a finger under my dress strap and putting the corsage flush against it. Then, with his other hand, he carefully removed the pin before sticking it into the stem and around it. It all happened so quickly, but I was aware of every single detail. His hand against my skin, the way his eyes narrowed, lashes lowering, as he concentrated on fixing it tight. In movies and in life whenever I’d seen this done, it had been awkward, but here, now, the action felt almost sacred in a way I couldn’t explain. Which was maybe why I felt like I had to make a joke.

“Thanks, Corsage Buddy,” I said.

“Safety first,” he replied, his eyes right on mine.

I cleared my throat. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He turned around, grabbing the power strip. To April he said, “Where do you want this?”

“Um,” she said, looking at me, then him. “By the door.”

“Got it,” he said, walking over and bending down. He got it set up, then started plugging in the lights one strand at a time. We stood there watching, the tiny dim room coming alive as they came on, soft and white and twinkling, all around us.

“It’s beautiful,” April sighed. “If I may say so myself.”

“Looks great,” Taylor agreed. “Clearly, you are learning something in college, party planner.”

“You doubted that?” April replied, giving her an indignant look. “I’ll remind you I’ve got a 3.9 this semester. I contain multitudes.”

I glanced over at Bailey, still on the couch, her feet now tucked up underneath her. She looked at the decor but didn’t say anything, instead taking a sip of her beer as she turned back to the water.

“How’s the prep coming?” Jack asked as he came through the kitchen door, pitching a beer can into the bag for empties there.

“You mean the stuff you guys have been absolutely no part of?” Taylor said.

“Not true. We moved the couch,” Vincent told her as he joined us. “And if you are lucky, I will bless you with one of my playlists.”

“No!” Taylor and Jack said in unison. April snorted.

“What?” Vincent said, pulling out his phone. “It’s a dance. I have great dance music.”

“What you have,” Jack told him, “is heavy hair metal. No one wants to dance to that.”

“Heavy metal is great for dancing!” Vincent said. “It’s loud, there’s a beat, and you can scream. What’s not to love?”

“You scream while you dance?” Roo asked him.

“Sure,” Vincent said easily. “Who doesn’t?”

“Here’s what I think we should do,” April said. “Let’s set up the room, then go outside and come in again.”

“It will still be Roo’s living room,” Jack pointed out.

“Yes, but it will feel different,” she told him. She reached down for a bag hanging off one of the chairs, digging around for a moment, then pulled out a bottle of liquor. “Especially if we take a shot first.”