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“Wow, the party’s over here,” Jessi exclaims. Laura and I look up in unison.
Jessi looks lovely in a deep red gown, the sleeves long and billowing. Lewis is wearing the same color as his shirt and tie, and his face is flushed and pink, like he’s tipsy.
“Hello,” I say, reaching out. I shake hands with Lewis and then kiss Jessi’s cheek.
“Hi!” Laura waves.She’s so precious, I think before looking away. Jessi gives me a knowing look.
I avert my eyes and try not to give away my hand too much. There’s making the ruse believable, and then there’s dealing with Jessi’s pity for the next decade.
“I can’t believe the price on some of these paintings,” Lewis whispers.
Laura’s laughter comes out in soft peels. “I know!” she crows. “I said the same thing.”
“I support it!”
“Me too!”
“But…”
“And yet…”
They giggle.
Jessi and I exchange a glance. “Should we cut them off?” She jokes, lifting her champagne flute.
“No, no,” I say, smirking. “Let the others hear. They’reright.”
“That they are. Oh, this is pretty! Angie would?—”
“Already bid,” I tell her.
Jessi smiles. “Nice. Thank you.”
We wander around, and there’s something soniceabout it. The four of us chat about the art and the kids. Lewis has some surprisingly nuanced takes for saying that he has never once paid attention to art beyond just watching movies. Laura doesn’t say much except for a hilarious quip here and there, mostly just content to sip her drinks.
I have a hand around her waist while Jessi chats with an old friend, and Lewis looks at us with warm eyes.
“You know, you’re much less creepy than I thought you’d be.”
Laura’s jaw drops.
“Uh,” I say, uncertainly. “Thanks?”
He snickers. Jessi comes back with a fresh glass and a smile. “What’s happening?”
“We’re less creepy than my brother assumed,” Laura says dryly.
Jessi rolls her eyes. She places a hand on the back of Lewis’ neck. “Honey, that is not nice to say.”
“It’s true,” he grumbles. It’s odd to watch a grown man melt into Jessi’s small touch, but it’s also heartwarming. I reallydothink they’re a good couple.
From Laura’s soft expression, I think she thinks so, too.
“I just mean that you guys are like a real couple,” Lewis says, shrugging.
“We are?” It comes out of me in surprise, even though it shouldn’t. Laura shoots me a worried glare.
“Like, you guys are… I don’t know. Normal. You’re both still yourselves, you know?” Lewis throws his hands up. “I’m done. Whatever. But—” he points at Laura. “I’m still not telling Ma for you.”
