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“I’m Bhodi’s mentor with the big brother program. It’s safe to say he introduced us.” Cary cuts me off before I say anything.
A flash of animosity I don’t recognize crosses his face. I squeeze his hand and when Cary looks at me it fades, replaced with a sorrowful look I haven’t seen from him since the week after his father passed.
Emory takes Bhodi up on a cannonball challenge. Laurel spends the next few minutes catching me up on what we missed while everyone else was out by the pool. By the time the pizza delivery guy shows, handing our order over the pool fence, and the kids grab towels, I’m starting to think things have settled. We may have a good vacation, despite the added guest.
Davina insists I call her by her first name and is as cordial to me as she is to Laurel. It is obvious Cary’s mother has taken a liking to Emory. She also listens in earnest when Bhodi finally has my undivided attention and I can hear the stories about the campout. When Davina asks about the other trips he and Cary have taken, Bhodi recounts the events on the day they went to the living history museum.
“It was fun. This guy had leeches—”
“The apothecary.” Cary supplies with a toothy smirk.
Cary hasn’t stopped beaming while Bhodi tells the story. This is the first time he’s interrupted, letting my son have the stage. I love how patient he is with Bhodi, how much their friendship means to him, and the little moments he steps up to boost Bhodi’s self-confidence when he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
“Yeah, him… and Glen said it’s the name of the guy and the place he works.”
“I thought he’d be too bored to pick up on a detail like that.” Cary turns to whisper in my ear. “Guess it made a bigger impression on him then I gave credit for.”
“Bugaboo,” I caution. “Miss Davina may not be as inclined to discuss leeching over dinner as we are.” I have a little boy and some of the grosser subjects make me queasy.
“It’s fine. I’d like to hear the rest of the story. All of it,” she encourages.
“The apothecary was saying all this gross stuff, and I started feeling really sick. Cary crawled across the floor and he took me outside. He got me a drink and he helped me pay for the star.”
“The one hanging in my room?” I touch Cary’s bicep, unconscious of the action and suddenly aware of how many times when I’m not around there must be when my boyfriend steps up to be the dad my son needs. The trip was months ago. No wonder they have such a strong bond.
Cary cups my cheek when my eyes shimmer with a silent “thank you.”
The sentiment is short-lived.
“I’m not surprised.” Davina folds a greasy paper napkin as if it is cloth, placing it on the table next to a thin paper plate. “You have a big heart.”
“Whatever.” Cary stands.
The metal legs of the chair he was sitting in scrape against the concrete decking. He quickly gathers empty plates, snatching Davina’s when she lifts it toward the stack.
The metal gate clangs hard, slamming behind Cary as he exits the enclosed pool yard. Laurel and I sit in stunned silence. There is a loud thump from the trash bin lid falling shut and Cary’s footsteps fade. He doesn’t return.
My sister takes the hint and picks up the conversation, asking Bhodi more questions.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I apologize to everyone.
I’d rather hear the rest of what Bhodi says. I sense Cary needs me more.
Collecting my soda can, I use recycling it as an excuse to go out the fence and stroll along the length of the house. I toss it in the bin and keep walking to find Cary.
In the driveway, the tailgate of the SUV is up. Cary’s sitting in the trunk with his legs hanging. He stares off in the distance. The view at this level between the other tall houses is identical to the one from the bedroom we are sharing this week.
“Go back. You shouldn’t be here,” he says as if I’m invisible.
I’m standing with my thighs to his knees, so it makes the sinking sensation drag me down.
I’ve fallen in love, drowning in its murky depths before. The one thing it taught me was to kick back and fight to reach the surface. Not necessarily to cling to things that weren’t meant to be, more to prove I can continue on.
“Am I supposed to go back inside the fence or back to Brighton?”
Cary reaches up, his fingers fall before he allows himself to grasp my elbow. He refuses to meet my eyes, staring instead at where our bodies connect.
Men come into Sweet Caroline’s for their own reasons; fun, fantasy, to leave the stress behind, escaping from a girlfriend or a wife they no longer have deep feelings for, or grieving a lost lover. Over the years, I’ve listened to every story under the sun. But I doubt any will ever be more important than the one Cary is about to tell me.
