“Mom,” Stevie says. “Don’t force it on her.”
“No, I’d like to know what else we’re all keeping from each other,” my mom says. I knew there would be questions, but I didn’t expect this reaction, the sudden color in her cheeks, the anger in her voice. My mom can be overbearing, but she’s rarely mad.
“I only have four toes on my right foot!” Leo calls from the table. We all look in his direction. “Biking accident when I was eight.”
“No, sweetie, that’s not the kind of thing she’s talking about,” Stevie tells him, and it hits me that Leo is trying to put a stop to the drama thatI’mcausing, even though our family is supposed to be a safe place for him.
“There aren’t any more secrets, Mom,” I lie as she stares back at me. The only remaining secret isn’t one that’s just mine. There’s a reason Ren and I tacitly agreed all these years not to share what happened between us with anyone. If our families know we imploded, we erase years of the status quo. Would it hurt my mom’s relationship with Hannah? Would our dads still be the same kind ofwant to grab a beerbest friends they’ve become? Would Sasha and Thad hate me for what I did to their brother? We’ve both been trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy for the people around us. I’d be betraying him if I said anything.
My mom and I keep staring at each other. The silence expands around us until someone has to break it. Greg steps in.
“I hate golf,” he pipes up, shooting a guilt-ridden look at my dad. “I’m so sorry, Richard.”
“It’s okay,” my dad says. “I sort of knew. Surfing sounds miserable to me.”
“I understand,” Greg says.
“I hate wine!” Dev calls from the far end of one table.
“Good thing that you don’t drink then, man,” Leo says.
“Oh,” Dev says. “Right.”
I feel like I’m getting whiplash.
“I hate that we feel so much pressure to make the week here together work,” Sasha says from her place next to Ren. All eyes swivel toward her.
“Rich coming from the event planner that tells us when we canshower,” Thad mutters.
Alex covers her hand with his, but Sasha rears back. “Apologies for trying to organize somefunfor everyone if we’re all going to make such a big deal about everyone being here at the same time every year!”
“Sasha, since when do you have a problem being here?” Thad asks. “And last time I checked,organizedis not everyone’s definition offun!”
“Well sure, when you just get a week off dad duty, I guess you get to act however you want,” she snaps.
“Oh my god, Sasha, I’m still aperson, with or without my daughter!”
At this, Sasha shrinks, mouth in a thin line.
“You’d think everyone would behave better at the rehearsal dinner.” All eyes now swivel to where Leo’s mother is leaning toward him.
I’ve never seen Leo angry, didn’t know he was capable of it, but at this comment, all of the good nature I’m used to from him vanishes.“Mom,” he says. “Are you seriously going to talk about families arguing right now?”
And that’s it. The patio erupts into chaos. Suddenly, Hannah is jumping in to settle Thad down, Leo’s father says something to his mother that upsets her and in turn gets Oliver going, Dev and the guitarist, for some reason, start shouting. Everyone is talking over each other, voices rising, accusations hurling.
I stand at the bar, my eyes finding Ren’s again. My mom steps closer to me, saying something about how I’m the reason we’ll remember the rehearsal dinner this way, that if I’d just beenhonestthis wouldn’t have happened, but I only see Ren. He gives me a sad smile from his spot at the table, the only thing that’s still in the movement around him, shoulders straight and gaze clear, the eye in the middle of my hurricane.
Everything quiets. The world, the deck, my mind. He looks at me, and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I can’t lose him again. That I can’t risk anything like being in love with him if it means I can’t havethis.Ren, in my life again, the point of gravity around which my personal galaxy revolves. For the last two and a half years, I’ve drifted off into space, meandering alone, existing but not in the way I really want to, telling myself it was fine, that I didn’t reallyneedanybody. But this week, as I zipped back into orbit again, finding that center to spin around, I’ve realized how foolish that is. Needing someone isn’t some weakness. In fact, it might be the whole point.
I return his smile, but it’s a little hard to keep on my face. I want Ren, but I need him, the best friend who so much of me is built around, the most important person in my life even when we weren’t speaking, more.
And then, Stevie steps forward.
“Joni and Ren are sleeping together!” she shouts at the top of her impressive lungs.
This time, it’s not a slow fade as much as a bomb dropped, the sound of the impact ringing in everyone’s ears.
“Stevie,” I hiss. She throws a hand over her mouth, eyes going dinner-plate round. “What the fuck?”
