When No One Is Watching(18)

I really was my mother’s child.

The music suddenly grows louder as I stand on the bottom step, indecisive, and I turn to see Kim standing in the open doorway and looking at me like she’s glad to see me. The invisible anxiety fist gets in a few more jabs somewhere around my chest region. Or maybe it’s just heartburn from the chips and salsa I shoveled into my mouth while standing around after the block-party planning meeting had finished because I didn’t want to go back to my sweltering attic room.

“Theo?”

Kim says my name how she used to. Before we moved. Before she detached so hard she took a chunk of my flesh with her. Before almost exactly a year ago when she’d walked up to the brunch table where I’d listened to David drone on, sporting a low-cut top that nonchalantly displayed a hickey that I hadn’t given her, like we were in some kind of teen drama.

“What’s up?” I try to sound cool, but it comes out sounding surprised, which is a completely honest reaction for once.

“Want to come have a nightcap with us?” she asks politely, inclining her head toward the noise in her living room.

“Who’s ‘us’?” I steel myself to just walk up the stairs if she says David’s name, which seems in the realm of possibility, given the last few months.

“The neighbors from across the street. Terry and Josie. Remember, they had us over to try some of Terry’s craft beer right after we moved in?” She pulls the door open and I see the neighbors who live on the other side of Sydney smiling at me expectantly like we’re old buddies about to catch up. Terry’s beer had tasted like piss, and both their dog and their son had bitten me, so of course I remember our visit.

“Sure,” I say, trying to muster if not enthusiasm then hospitality. I should be happy Kim seems to be trying. “I’ll have a quick drink.”

“Quick? You have something else to do?” Kim’s nose wrinkles a bit, but she holds on to her smile and ushers me in.

“Hey,” I say as I walk in and take a seat on the weird angular couch Kim bought last month. The room smells like fancy cheese, so like ass, mixed with the tart scent of wine.

“Theo. Buddy!” Terry reaches over the coffee table littered with the remains of their appetizers and gives my hand a hard squeeze. He’s sporting an expensive Rolex on his wrist, and I imagine how he’d react if I slammed it down onto the edge of this ugly but sturdy coffee table.

“Long time no see,” Josie says, then holds up the bottle of white wine in her hand. It’s so huge it looks kind of like a novelty, but I’m sure it’s expensive and delicious. “Want some?”

Kim slides onto the couch beside me. “Dad brought it back from his trip to France,” she explains, casually placing a hand on my knee. A little shiver passes through me at the familiar press of her fingers. It feels more intimate than if she’d called me in here to fuck.

“Come on, look at this guy!” Terry’s words are a bit blurry around the edges, but he seems like a guy who comes home every night and hits the wet bar before taking off his jacket, so he’s possibly more than a little drunk. His face is wide, and, right now, the center third of it is flushed red and mottled like he got hit with the problem-drinker stick. “Wine? What does he look like? He’s going to have some bourbon, right?”

“I—”

Terry thumps his chest. “Bourbon. Man’s drink! Thatta boy.”

Terry is maybe ten years older than me, tops, but he’s clearly taken on the role of pushy drunk uncle at this gathering. I decide to roll with it. I take the glass from him as he hands it across the table, and feel the weight of three gazes settle on me as the smoky heat of the first sip warms my throat and chest.

“So, how was it?” Kim asks, squeezing my leg.

“How was what?”

“The meeting,” Josie says, leaning in conspiratorially. “About the block party.”

“Oh. It was fine.” I take another sip and run my tongue over my teeth.

“That’s it? Fine?” Kim asks, squeezing my leg a bit harder. “What’d they talk about?”

Part of me wonders if she knows I spoke to, and maybe flirted a bit with, Sydney. If she knows I volunteered to help with the tour instead of busting down doors looking for a job opportunity that’s not going to happen.

I use my free hand to gently pry her clawlike grip off me. “It was a party-planning meeting. The most exciting thing was when these two women started trash-talking each other’s macaroni and cheese.”

I shrug and take another sip, but Josie’s gaze narrows. “They didn’t talk about anything else?”

There’s something odd in how her gaze has gone from diffused friendliness to sharpened interrogation, despite the same pasted-on smile. I gulp the rest of my drink and plonk the glass onto the coffee table. “How about you just ask me what it is you want to know? Clearly I’m missing something, and I don’t have time to play guessing games.”

Kim’s breath brushes against my ear just before she whispers, “Don’t be rude.”

“Aren’t you unemployed?” Terry asks pointedly as he leans over to pour me more bourbon. “I’d say you have plenty of time.”

All three of them laugh, that rich-fuck giggle, and I turn to Kim with both brows raised.