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2 - SIMON
Stupid.
I should never have left him alone, not today. Not when I knew that phone call was coming, and the news would be bad. Don’t ask me how I knew, but I did. Just like I knew the shares I’d invested in DLM were going to triple overnight, and the milk in my fridge had expired even though the date printed on the container wasn’t until next week.
I knew.
Coming to this fucking party was a bad idea, like the temptress in the purple dress. I scrubbed my hand over my face and adjusted my silver cufflinks, watching Will pace the beach below. I shouldn’t disturb him. This involved him and his wife, and had nothing to do with me, but I watched and analyzed—noticing how he kicked the sand and tugged the short strands of his hair until it stuck up in every direction.
I could calculate how many seconds it would take to run down to the beach and rip the phone from his ungrateful hands. I could hope I was wrong, and the news was good.
Wishful thinking.I scoffed, following Will’s movements as he stumbled up and down the beach, already half in the bag. I clenched my fists, willing my heart rate to slow down.
Beth.Who the fuck named their kid after their favorite sister in Little Women and then wondered why she had a score of health problems? Our parents. One of us named after a book character and one named after half of a music group. It could be worse. My father was stuck with Rodolphus for a middle name, and my cousin fared no better with Abraxas. I should be thankful our parents didn’t give us family names.
I turned around and leaned against the railing, wishing I could have talked him into going home instead of here after we had dinner.
But I didn’t.
Of course, I didn’t. I was always a push-over with Will. Maybe because he was married to my sister or had been my best friend since college. Whatever the reason, I was disgusted with myself for being out with him tonight.
Cigarette smoke filled my nose and burned my lungs, and I looked at the guy standing next to me, motioning to the pack in his hand. He gave me a jerky nod and tapped one out, passing it over with his lighter.
I hated smoking anything besides the special blend of tobacco I ordered from a family friend’s farm out west. Cheap smoke clung to your clothes, your hair, your breath, but I had to do something with my hands. I put the cigarette between my lips and lit it, dragging the scorching smoke into my lungs, and relishing in the burn.
The sensation felt good. It went with the anger coursing through my veins. The anger with Will, Beth, and the red-head I watched scurry across the living room and down a hallway. I spotted her the second I walked through the front doors, sipping on one of those disgusting blue drinks with her hip cocked to one side. Her dress clung to every curve, and she towered over the couple she talked to, owning the room.
I missed Will getting his first and second drink as I followed her. The subtle sway of her hips and her stilettos had me hooked. It was like she gave off her own personal vibe of fuck you by not trying to hide her height. She accentuated it with those heels. Heels I wanted on my floor or around my waist.
The closer I came to her orbit, the more I wanted her. Until I saw the pile of empty glasses behind her and the dazed look in her eyes. I smelled the sticky-sweetness of the blue drinks coming off her in waves.
She was drunk. I didn’t do drunk. I never did drunk. The very not-sober guy sitting in the sand with his head between his legs was Exhibit A as to why it wasn’t a good idea. I pushed off the railing and made my way down the stairs, taking one last drag before snuffing the cigarette out.
Will’s hands shook in the moonlight, and I cringed, trying not to think about what the sand would do to my suit before sitting down and knocking my shoulder with his. He fell to the side with his cheek pressed to the ground, groaning like I’d clocked him.
“What the hell? You trying to beat a man when he’s down?” he said, rolling over and laying on his back.
“The news wasn’t good, I take it.”
“No. It’s back. She’s already scheduled an appointment with MUSC.”
I nodded, thinking four steps ahead with what needed to happen next. They would need grocery delivery after returning from the Medical University of South Carolina, meal prep, a sitter—
“I can’t go home yet. I can’t face her.” Will interrupted the mental list I was ticking off in my head with his shameful comment.
“You never should have come here.”
He didn’t need me piling on more shit when he was told his wife was sick again, but what kind of husband and father would be out on a Friday night getting lit instead of home with his family?
“I don’t need your attitude right now. I need another drink.”
Will stumbled to his knees, then stood up, brushing the sand from his pants and hands. He untucked his shirt the rest of the way and turned to walk to the stairs, shoulder checking me as I stood up to follow. Stumbling, I kicked my leg out and tripped him, earning a satisfying grunt as he fell back on his stubborn ass.
“My attitude? I will drag you out of here by the scruff of your scrawny neck if I have to,” I snarled, viciously kicking the sand in front of me. I didn’t bother turning around, wiping off my shoes, or answering the stream of profanities spewing from his mouth. He’d been wallowing in self-pity since they first suspected Beth’s cancer was back, and it was time for him to snap the fuck out of it.
“I… it… this doesn’t work without her. I don’t work without her,” Will whispered. I almost didn’t catch his words, too focused on the waves and the fall breeze on my face. Stretching out a hand, I gripped his and pulled him to his feet, straightening his collar and slapping his shoulder. Probably too rough, but I was done with his attitude.
“The doctor said this was a possibility. So now, you look into surgical options, which have a higher success rate, and you handle it. You know she probably already has everything listed and color-coded.”
