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The night before the visit, for the first time ever, I’d lied to Journey about the reason I wasn’t so sure I wanted to do the double dinner date at Ian’s house. It wasn’t because my love with Xavier was so new like I’d said to her. It was because a part of me was afraid to see Scarlet moving around Ian’s house as “Scarlet the wife” who would be here forever and not “Scarlet the girlfriend” whose presence I simply had to tolerate. Mrs. Scarlet Dupree. The lady of the house I’d decorated. The house where I’d once been called Mrs. Dupree.
“Damn, Mrs. Dupree! You have a full spread up in here for your man,” Xavier said, standing in the dining room beside Ian, who was filling the formally set glasses with red wine.
“Stop cursing in these people’s house,” I said.
“ ‘Damn’ is not a curse,” Xavier said.
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not! Tell her, Ian.”
“I don’t give a damn!” Ian joked and we all laughed.
“Well, I do,” I said. “As Grammy Annie-Lou always says—”
“If the baby Jesus wouldn’t say it, you shouldn’t either,” Ian cut in, trading a smile with me.
“Oh, I’m sorry, baby,” Xavier said, flinging me into his arms. “I’m sorry to you and the baby Jesus. And Grammy Grams. Can big daddy make it up to you?” He kissed me hard with his eyes closed, but I had mine open and on Ian, who seemed to be struggling with a lump in his throat. Scarlet whistled as she worked around the table, making everything perfect.
“Oh, I’m out of wine,” Ian said abruptly. “Rach, can you come with me into the kitchen to get some more?”
“I can get it, baby,” Scarlet offered.
“No, I can do it,” he said. “Rachel, come with me.” He nearly pulled me over, yanking me out of Xavier’s hold, and I stumbled to catch up to him.
Once we got into the kitchen, Ian said, “I see you two are snuggly in there.” He peered into a cabinet that hardly looked like it was for storing red wine.
“Snuggly? Please. That’s how you describe a blanket. We’re sizzling!” I laughed and opened the cabinet where I’d started stashing Ian’s wine months ago. I handed him a bottle of Malbec.
“Thank you.” He sounded annoyed. “Scarlet’s been moving things around in here.”
“No, that’s where the wine has always been.”
“Whatever.” Ian got the bottle opener from a drawer and wrestled with the cork a bit. “Sizzling, huh?” He pulled the cork out. “Guess you two are having sex then?”
“I hope so!” I laughed because the slight concern I heard in Ian’s voice had to be a joke. “We’re both grown and I ain’t no virgin. Someone better be fucking.” I laughed again, but I was alone. “Damn, why are you so stone-faced?”
“I don’t know. I’m concerned, I guess. You know how X can be. Hit and quit. That’s his style,” Ian said. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“X won’t hurt me,” I said. “He’s different now. Trust me.”
“I trust you. And I trust X to be who he is.”
“Well, trust me when I say who he is now.”
“Hum.” Ian shrugged.
“What’s wrong?” I said. “You make it seem like you’re not happy for me.”
“I just didn’t
think you’d like someone like him.”
“Like what?”
“All over you,” Ian said. “You know how he was out there—grabbing on you. It’s so unnecessary. Didn’t think you were into that.”
“Every woman likes to be grabbed sometimes, Ian,” I said, turning to go back into the dining room.
