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At the window, it takes me a minute to get my bearings. After wiping the sleep from my eyes, I shake my head, certain that I am seeing things.
There are trucks scattered about the property, at least ten of them, some of which are on the lawn.
There are teams of people. Gardeners planting rose bushes, shrubs, workers clearing brush. Closer to the house, men are dropping paint cloths, as others tape things off and prepare to paint my house. Windows are being scrubbed, the pavement pressure washed and gutters cleared. The fountain in the garden is running and the pool sparkles like I haven’t seen in a decade. As though drawn toward the window by some unseen force, my nose pressed firmly against the cool glass, I conclude, I am obviously dreaming. Then I spot Eve standing on the lawn with her hand cupped over her brow, shielding her eyes from the sun. She’s smiling, and her hair is pulled up. She’s dressed in something other than pajamas. It is then that Liam comes into focus. He’s taking deep strides in her direction.
Snatching my robe off the bathroom hook, I manage to get it halfway on just as I bolt out of the house.
“What is going—”
“George!” Eve’s face is slightly twisted. She chews at her bottom lip, the way she always does when she’s perplexed. “This—”
“This is amazing!” Liam shouts over her, placing his hand on my shoulder. He gives it a good squeeze. “I can’t believe it. It’s like one of those makeover shows.”
“This place hasn’t looked this good in years,” Eve laughs.
“Well done, George,” Liam says. “Well done.”
My eyes widen. A forklift offloads p
allets of sod. “I did—”
Liam gives my shoulder another squeeze. “Everything is turning out just how you said it would.” He turns to Eve. “George has been talking about this for weeks. It’s all I’ve heard about.”
I give him the side eye. “You haven’t even been here for weeks.”
“Ah, come on, George,” he says playfully, swatting the air with his free hand, digging his fingers into my shoulder with the other. “You of all people should know you have to allow for a certain amount of creative license.”
Eve looks from me to Liam and back. She doesn’t know what to say.
“This is all he could talk about—how surprised you were going to be. It’s been killing me not to say anything. Killing me. When you were so worried that he’d stayed behind at the hotel—you have no idea how hard it was not to confess what he was up to.”
“We can’t afford this, George,” Eve says nervously. “Or we’d have done it a long time ago.”
I don’t say anything. I’d planned to have a painter come out and the lawn guy, but she’s right. We can’t afford it.
The get-together Liam asked me about. Well, it’s not at all what I was expecting. It’s not a small affair. It’s a full-blown party. The cars keep coming and coming and coming. They line the drive and spill over to the grass, where an area has been roped off. Valets take keys.
Eventually I count well over a hundred people. And that’s just the ones who are scattered across my lawn. There are more by the pool and in the cottage.
It is catered, and all day, as vans arrived with flowers and whatnot, I stayed locked away in my office with little idea what was about to befall me.
“Don’t worry about the cost,” Liam told me. “Fixing this place up, for you guys, it’s the least I can do.”
At the time, I didn’t know that taking the liberty to practically renovate my property would pale in comparison to the liberty he would take throwing his party.
But then night fell and guests arrived. Tents have been erected, lighting installed, a stage built for the band and an open bar. Floating candles glide on the surface of the pool.
My wife dresses up. She puts on makeup and curls her hair. She looks different than she has in a very long time.
I hide in the office, finally able to get words on the page. That is, until Liam calls up the stairs for me, which I ignore, and he finally barrels up the stairs, taking them two at a time as usual. “Come out to the garden,” he says. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
On the way down, he is distracted by a guest looking to make small talk. I scoot out the door and into the night to find Eve. Eventually, I find her sitting alone in a corner. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” she says, patting the seat next to her. “To have this place come to life again.”
I roll up my sleeves. It’s warmer out than I thought. Easing into the lounge chair beside her, I exhale for what feels like the first time all day. “Is it?”
“Don’t you think?”
“Only if you do.”
