What's Mine and Yours(100)

It was even stranger to be in the company of the Venturas and the Gibbses. They had been his family, however distantly, for so long. Despite all his disdain for Lacey May over the years, their bond had never been tenuous—it had been like Noelle’s bond to her: unfortunate but fixed. Who was he to them now? Noelle flitted among her sisters, Alma and her relatives from New York, her mother and Hank. She was still anchored to them, no matter the years she’d spent away. She would never lose them, whereas he had been cut out swiftly, easily. He had no place.

She had hugged him, briefly, when he arrived. She was taking pictures with her sisters and she stole away to thank him for coming and then rushed back to join her fold. He hadn’t seen the baby close up; she’d left the girl in the arms of Margarita, who seemed to be frowning at him, bare legged, menacing, her face a painted shield of color.

It was his first time at a wedding without her. Before, when they’d gone to weddings, he was the one with whom she left her drink, the one to whom she announced, I’m going to the bathroom. She was the one who reminded him to count his drinks, who dipped a finger in the frosting of his slice of cake without asking, without wondering whether she could. Now he drank one glass of wine after another, waiting for a chance to talk to her alone. She was surrounded constantly by well-wishers, her sisters, the child. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so unmoored.

He was ignoring, or being ignored by, the Paws & Friends staff when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and saw Adira, plump and beautiful in a crimson dress with bows at the shoulders.

“Oh, my God, Gee,” she said, and embraced him.

“Senator Howard,” he said.

She laughed. “It’s just the General Assembly for now. I almost didn’t recognize you—you look so different.”

“It’s the veneers,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Why not? Everyone likes having a dignitary at their wedding.” Adira pulled up a chair. “Besides, I used to take my dog to Diane and Alma’s camp before I moved to Raleigh.”

“You with anyone?”

“If you mean, am I married, no. Not everybody finds their soul mate in high school.”

He smiled at her, but she must have seen straight through to his sadness.

“What happened? You know Noelle announced the birth in the class notes, and I couldn’t believe it when I saw the picture and there was no mention of you.”

“Somehow you just knew that redheaded baby wasn’t mine?”

Nelson’s joke landed flat, and he decided he might as well tell her the truth.

“More than once?” Adira said. “That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“I guess I was trying to blow up my life.”

“Well, you did it.”

Her voice was firm, but she placed a hand on his knee and squeezed. “You know, I really thought the two of you would make it. You were a big success story for Central. If we’d had brochures, you’d have been on the cover.”

“I didn’t see us that way.”

“And then the fairy tale continued. You went to college together, you got married. You had your careers. The only thing missing was the baby.”

“It wasn’t ever a fairy tale. But I did love her.”

Adira nodded sagely. “It was a lot to overcome.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just the two of you combined—your stories. The way you grew up. A marriage is hard enough. Sometimes, it’s easier when at least one of you has had a simple life.”

It stung to hear Adira speak that way about him and Noelle, as if they’d had no choice in the matter, and there was nothing they could have done. And yet, it felt true. He had often thought that the problem was him. He had never managed to bury the boy he had been.

Adira took away his wine, handed him a glass of water. “Go and talk to her. You’re nearly out of time.” She nodded at the bartender who was packing up the bar, the wedding planner handing out little bags of rice to send off the brides.

Nelson approached her table, and Noelle propped up the baby to greet him. She planted her feet on her lap, waved her little arm, and said, “Say hello to Mr. Nelson.” It nearly ruined him.

He sat beside them, and the baby lurched toward him, unsteady on her feet. Noelle handled her deftly, both hands clutching her waist, and he knew he shouldn’t be surprised by how at ease she seemed, how expert. He didn’t want to hold the baby or touch her, but he bowed his face close to hers and tried to look friendly, pleased to meet her. She had chunky limbs and a face that was mostly forehead. She looked nothing like Noelle, or like he had imagined their child. He wondered if Noelle was thinking the same thing, but he answered his own question. Noelle beamed at her daughter, brushed her lips against her scalp. She had no reason to cling to the child that wasn’t.

As far as he knew, Noelle hadn’t disclosed the father to anyone. She hadn’t said whether she’d used a donor or had a one-night stand with a man on the coast. If she was seeing someone, he hadn’t accompanied her to the wedding.

She introduced him to everyone at the table: Inéz, and Ruth, whom he remembered, and her son, Bailey. Nelson recognized the contempt on his face when he saw it, and he figured Ruth had told him why their marriage had ended. Noelle and Ruth had always been close. He ignored the way Bailey was glaring at him, and asked Noelle to dance.