Redemption(17)

“I’d love to hear you play sometime. I played the flute for years but haven’t touched it in forever.”

We talked music until the hostess finally called the Ryanns’ name to seat us. Brett and Annie Ryann. Their names even worked together in unison. My life was measured in meters and notes, everything from speech to reading, to the sounds a car made on a highway. It was the curse of a musical ear. But their names flowed in perfect time.

Throughout dinner we regaled each other with stories of our relationships. They seemed enamored to learn Dan and I had been seeing each other far longer than he’d let on. It was funny how I naturally gravitated toward these two. I wasn’t intimidated by them. I hadn’t hidden behind Dan. They were easy to be around. Dan, however, seemed suddenly shy, like he was waiting on their confirmed approval. It wasn’t blatant, but the signs were there. He needed them to like me because he’d never done this before. He had no idea what to expect because he clearly cared how they reacted. I had to assume either he had never introduced them to any of his other dates, or he hadn’t cared about their thoughts because he hadn’t planned to keep them around. Either reason was profound. And both gave me the confidence to put myself out there and be at ease with Brett and Annie.

When we left the restaurant, we moved to a pool hall down the street to grab a beer and shoot a few games. I could hold my own in the game but was never going to make a living as a shark. I found long ago the less of a spectacle I made out of not wanting to do something the easier it was to fit in. Pool was one of those things. Most people weren’t any good. They played for something to do in a bar—I was no different. I just wasn’t going to flounce around the table begging some man to sidle up next to me to “teach” me how to play. I may totally suck, but I wasn’t a damsel in distress—just alone.

We stepped up to the bar to order with Brett and Annie a couple of steps behind. Dan held onto my waist while we waited on the bartender. I glanced over to admire them, but a look of irritation crossed Brett’s face when he looked at her phone he’d just pulled from her back pocket.

“Whatcha looking at, Penny?”

“Brett and Annie. He looks upset.”

“Trust me, if he is, it’s not with her. She walks on water in his world.” He wasn’t judgmental—that was how he saw their relationship, and I’d be lying if I said he didn’t seem envious.

Seconds later, he kissed her and joined us.

“Brett, man. What’s wrong?” Dan was genuinely concerned for his friend.

“Fucking, Gray.”

I didn’t know what a fucking gray was, but it didn’t sound good.

“Why are we talking about Gray?”

“He sent Annie a text. You know his divorce was final today.”

Ah, apparently, a gray was a Gray, as in the name of what sounded like an ex-boyfriend. I listened instead of talking since I knew nothing about the subject at hand.

“What does his divorce have to do with Annie?” Poor Dan. I didn’t even know this guy or his relationship to Annie, but I could deduce why this was an issue for Brett.

Brett tilted his head to the side and eyed Dan with a scrunched expression. “You do remember they dated for years, right? And he still stakes some odd claim to her? And he told the entire DC when we got back from our honeymoon that she had settled for me? Or has all of that escaped your memory?” His face blossomed in color from the anger that threatened to spill over.

“What I remember is your wife said ‘I do’ to you. She committed her life to you. That woman is devoted to you like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Do she and Gray have a past? Absolutely, but so do you and Anniston and you and Megan. But if either of them walked in this door right now or blew up your phone, would it change the way you feel about your wife? Tempt you to do something you’d regret?”

Brett shook his head.

“No. That’s right. Why? Because she’s your fucking wife, Brett. Neither of you takes that commitment lightly so don’t stress out about Gray sending her a text message. And hell, if it comes down to it, I’ll take him out in a dark alley or accidently pin him with a forklift at the DC.” Dan laughed, but there was no doubt in my mind he was serious. I believed with everything I knew, he’d protect them and their marriage as though it was his own.

“This guy works with you?” Neither had paid me any attention until now.

Dan stared down at me, but I wasn’t able to discern the emotion in his eyes. “Yeah, he’s the weekend shift supervisor. The way he treated Annie was deplorable. That woman has been through hell and back. There’s no way she’d revisit that crazy train. Gray Dearsley is Annie’s ex-boyfriend for a reason.”

The conversation stopped the instant Annie rejoined us, and the bartender brought us drinks. She appeared unfazed by the text message and had put her phone away. Whatever Brett was concerned might be there wasn’t an issue by the looks of things.

The text message was quickly forgotten as drinks flowed, and the four of us huddled around the dart board making fools of ourselves. By the time we reached the pool table, the alcohol had set in, and that too was a hopeless cause, but it proved to be entertaining, to say the least. Every chance Brett got, he tried to cop a feel, and Annie would shrug him off or poke him with a cue. I leaned against Dan’s chest watching them team up against us, laughing more than I had in ages. There was something about them, as a couple, but separately as well, that drew me in. I wanted to be a fourth of this quartet. I hadn’t been willing to risk friendship in ages. Being that vulnerable wasn’t something I had been ready to embark on.