“That is true,” Jack concedes, leaning back in his chair, his hand on Vivian’s. Each movement they make is in sync with the other. They anticipate each other's needs without so much as an acknowledgement that they’re doing it. The bread bowl is dropped at our table with a variety of breads and immediately, Jack grabs one with tomatoes baked into it, dropping it on Vivian’s plate. A hum of contentment escapes her while she reaches for the olive oil and salt to pass to Jack. It’s truly mesmerizing to watch. I hope that someday I can find that level of comfort with someone.
“Your dad is pretty pissed, dude,” Jack’s tone is dismissive of me, turning to Charlie.
“My dad is always pissed,” Charlie says, sipping his bright pink drink. Somehow his arm has found its way from my knee to around my shoulders, an idle hand twirling my ponytail around his fingers.
“Yeah, but he found out that you were slacking for two weeks and that I was covering for you, so he told me that I could have your bonus.”
Charlie seems unbothered by this, dropping a piece of bread on my plate. I had hesitated to dive into the platter, wanting to save space for the oysters we ordered, but the fresh scent wafts up, making my mouth water in response.
“He tells you that every year. He can tell me all about it tomorrow when I’m back in the office.” Charlie’s voice has taken on an edge to it heard only when he’s angry. He wants to let the subject go so I open my mouth to try to change the subject, but Jack barrels on, needing to needle his friend.
“He said you need to stop thinking with your dick and do your job.” Jack’s deep green eyes slide to me and I see Charlie’s jaw tick.
He squeezes my shoulder reassuringly, but I can’t help but worry about all of the strife I have caused. “I can talk to my dad about it tomorrow.” Charlie’s voice is hard, making it the final word on the subject. Even Vivian looks uncomfortable, shooting Jack a questioning look.
I seize on the moment of silence prompted by the waiter dropping off the oyster platter. “So, Charlie told me you two got engaged over Thanksgiving? He, of course, was sparse with the details. How did you propose?” I ask Jack, hoping, praying, that he takes the redirect.
Vivian doesn’t give him a chance to blow it, plowing right on in. We hadn’t gotten a chance to discuss the magical proposal earlier and I’m delighted to hear her side of it.
“He actually rented out the whole of the Bryant Park ice skating rink. You know me, I hate ice skating. I was pretty hesitant but when he promised to rent it for an hour, just for us, I begrudgingly agreed.”
“I know someone who operates the ice skating rink, so it was easy to manage,” Jack interjects with his part, clearly a practiced maneuver with the way they tell it.
Vivian beams. “So, he gets me on the ice, leading me around slowly before taking me to the center of the ice. I, of course, hate this and hold on to him for dear life because there is no railing for me to clutch, just him. He’s careful about letting me go as he gets on one knee. Suddenly, there are these soft booms, and I almost fall because I’m startled, but it turns out it was rose petals shot out of confetti cannons all around us, and I’m just stunned. I was so stunned that I actually left him hanging before saying yes. We went to Nobu for dinner before going home. It was honestly such a dream,” she says looking at Jack.
My heart fills for them. Jack may not like me, but his love for Vivian runs deep, and I cannot begrudge him that.
With our food being served, conversation starts to circle around what their mutual friends are doing for the holidays, and I am quickly the odd man out. Both Charlie and Vivian do their best to include me, Charlie explaining who people are and Vivian mentioning old friends we shared, but Jack is determined to make sure I feel like an outsider.
I’m not sure if he doubts that I’m interested in Charlie or that I’m in it for the long haul with Vivian. In either case, I’m not sure it will be possible for me to win him over. I excuse myself to use the restroom, leaving them behind. As I turn a corner, I see Charlie watching me before reaching forward and punching Jack in the arm. Jack, to his benefit, doesn’t bother to ask what he’s done wrong, he just scowls at Charlie, his mouth twisted as he makes his case.
I sit in the bathroom longer than necessary, contemplating if I really, genuinely, want to return to the table. I don’t want to go back out there and talk to Jack if he’s going to be all subtle barbs and attempts to exclude me. Convincing him that I’m in this, both with Charlie and Vivian, is not going to happen over one happy hour. Frankly, it’s not his business to determine if I’m worthy of Charlie or not. It’s going to be a long challenge and I’m not sure he will trust that I’m not with Charlie for his money. I can only imagine the stories that Vivian told him about our days of eating ramen during the week, so we could scrape by with rent and hit bottomless brunches on weekends. Vivian catches me gently dabbing at my eyes to not smudge the few swipes of mascara I managed before leaving the apartment.
“Ellie?” she asks, touching my shoulder. Her face is apologetic, eyes turned down, with a mixture of shame and apology. “I’m sorry Jack is being a dick. He’s just,” she takes a deep breath in, “protective.”
“I get that, Vivian, I do, but I’m fighting an uphill battle with him. I’m not going to win it with you and Charlie fighting it for me.” My words are sharper than I intend, my frustration with Jack being taken out on her. An annoyed growl escapes my throat as I toss out the towel.
“I know, it’s just, I feel responsible. I poisoned the well and I never should have.”
I grab her hand. “Is there more that you’re not telling me? That Jack knows? Because he’s being a douche canoe to me and it feels disproportionate if we just grew apart. I had no contacts in my phone. None of our other friends in the city or sorority sisters. No one.” I lean against the counter, hugging myself.
Her silence all but confirms that more must have happened, and I’m thankful that she’s willing to move past it.
“I mean, honestly, Viv, no one from my past cares about me. Charlie asked a friend if a missing persons report had been filed and to tell him if one is filed. Nothing. I’ve been living this weird fantasy life for months and no one wants to know where I am. No one is worried about not hearing from me for three months. Three months! Like, I’m an adult and, obviously, people have lives and don’t talk to everyone all the time, but you’re telling me there isn’t one person I talked to with enough regularity to miss me? It was a huge red flag that there was nothing from you on my phone. I had more old texts from my Chinese food delivery guy and verification texts than I did messages with any real people. No texts from Jordan or Sarah or Sam. I didn’t even have social media on my phone.”
Vivian wraps her arms around me, hugging me close as I cry for the first time since Charlie kissed me on Thanksgiving.
I used October and November to focus on healing and to turn my anger and loss into something more. Sadness was never an emotion that I warred with. There were mostly tears of frustration during physical therapy, but now as I think about all I’ve lost that I don’t even know I’m missing, I cry.
“Did you come here for dinner or a show?” I hear Vivian snap after the door opens into the small bathroom.
She shushes me and rubs my back, holding me close against her as I get it out of my system. How many times did she hold me like this through college, through my parents' deaths? How many times did I do the same as she cried about heartbreak, about the Sarah McLachlan animal commercials, and the death of McDreamy?
“I’m sorry you feel like you’ve had to go through this alone, but you don’t have to now. Charlie is smitten with you. I can see it on his face when he looks at you. And you have me. For as long as you will let me be here. We made a blood oath during pledging to be sisters no matter what and I’m not letting that change now. I promise you, the only thing I didn’t tell you was that we had a fight about us growing apart. It wasn’t the thing that broke us up but it was rough. It’s not anything that’s going to keep us from being friends now.”
I nod, remembering the drunken oath we took the night we accepted our bids, cutting our hands on the jagged edges of a beer can. I’m grateful for her capacity for forgiveness. She’s tender with each movement, blotting at the streaks of black down my face from the obviously not waterproof mascara. I do as I’m told, holding wet washcloths to my eyes, to try to bring down the swelling while she tends to the rest of my face. Together we take a deep breath before I have to face her caveman fiancé.
I try to admire Jack’s protectiveness of them both, clearly the most important people in his life, but I’m annoyed at how he has decided this means he can treat me whatever way he wants. Charlie stands so I can slide into the booth. He keeps his face carefully impassive as he studies my swollen eyes and tight jaw. His brown eyes cast a death glare at Jack, who acts oblivious, resting a hand on his fiancé’s knee.