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I make sure everyone has water and point to the green salad I threw together from a bag for everyone to dig in. Burke helps me bring out the noodles, sauce, and the bread. He’s so wonderful. I should think he is wonderful.
The wine is making my head woozy, but I sneak another pour before I sit down. Between my daughter being slightly rude to Max’s girlfriend, to my boyfriend being handsy because the father of my child is here, to the father of my child pulling me toward him like a giant good-looking magnet, I will not know peace this dinner. All I can do is survive it.
“How long have you been together?” Noelle asks, flicking a finger between Burke and me. He looks at me, like it’s disputed.
“Two months. It’s still new,” I say, placing the napkin in my lap.
“I’m smitten,” Burke says, pecking me on the cheek. I notice Max tensing up across the table.
“Oh, the honeymoon phase. It’s like you’re obsessed with them. When Max and I started dating, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
My heart sinks. You have a boyfriend who likes you, a lot, right next to you. Focus!
I turn my head to kiss Burke quickly, a wet press of lips. There’s a sound from Olive, and I turn to see her slumped down, with her arms crossed. When I turn back toward Max and Noelle, Max’s face is pale and his eyes are focused on the fake floral arrangement in the middle of the table.
“You?” I ask as I swallow.
“Three years,” Noelle says. I watch her hand float down onto Max’s thigh. He shifts and coughs into his hand.
“That’s wonderful,” I say, draining the rest of my wine glass. Olive mirrors my action and tips her bottle to the ceiling, like she just found out the factory she’s been working at for thirty-five years laid her off.
“Dig in!” I say. “Don’t want it to get cold.”
Noelle takes her dinner plate instead of the small side plate and covers it with lettuce, avoiding all the croutons and blue cheese crumbles. Olive looks up at me like, Can you believe this chick?
After watching his girlfriend suck the joy from a salad, Max reaches for the noodles, taking a glob of pasta with the tongs and dumping it on his plate. He hands it to Olive, who does the same thing. The hand movements are eerily similar, the flick of the wrist and look of satisfaction. Noelle notices it, and so does Burke.
When my eyes scan to Max, he smiles at me with misty eyes.
We’re just one big modern American family.
13
Max
Noelle grips my thigh like she’s testing the sharpness of her nails.
I try to avoid Emily’s gaze, to avoid fixating on her. Her creamy neck, the freckles on her chest, the way her green eyes shimmer under the overhead light. That dress she’s wearing is torturing me.
When asked about our relationship, Noelle conveniently left out our problems, the ultimatum, the break we took. She’s threatened by Emily, and I can tell. Usually, in social settings, we’re affectionate, but this is over the top.
Burke is doing the same thing, staking his claim to Emily. He seems like a good guy, but wrapping his arm around her waist irks me.
One wrong move, and we’ll have words.
This room feels too hot, and my collar tightens around my neck. Noelle’s nails dig in harder, like I will slip away. All of this is too much to handle. A daughter I didn’t know about, the mother of my child strumming up old feelings, and a girlfriend demanding a commitment I’m not sure about. The room spins, although I’ve had two sips of wine and a root beer.
“I need some air.” I stand up, and Noelle finally releases me. I walk to the front door, and when I’m finally out of it, I can breathe. My hands on my hips allow for deep inhales and slow exhales. There’s footsteps behind me, and I shake my head. Why won’t she let me think?
“Noelle, I…” I turn, and it’s not her. It’s Emily, looking absolutely stunning. My eyes drift up and down her torso as my mouth waters. I look away, although all I want to do is stare at her.
“It was intense in there, huh?” Emily asks. Her smile is hesitant, but my lips curl to mirror hers, and she lets out a one-note chuckle.
“It’s so awkward.”
“Oh my God, the most awkward.” Emily rubs her forehead. “Man, do I know how to kick off my thirties.”
“Definitely. You’re really killing it.”
