So the moment the people from the catering company arrived and I let them in, I snuck off to the Coles’. Troy and I played videogames for about an hour. Then Hannah Spencer bolted in their living room and stood right in front of the TV.
She wore a simple white tee and those daisy dukes that barely covered her ass. She had makeup on and approximately a third of her hair was in waves, the rest straight. Her face was red, her nostrils flaring. I tried not to, but I grinned. I opened my mouth to ask her if there was a problem, but she didn’t even let me start.
“Go to your mother’s house and stay there.”
Your mother’s house. Not your house. Not home. She treated me like a stray dog, just like the others. It was true that I had told her myself it wasn’t my house, but hearing it from her mouth made me want to break something. Her spirit was the less expensive and the most alluring option in that moment.
“I’m good right here,” I stared her down.
She took a few steps closer to me and I heard Troy murmur under his breath that I was an idiot.
“You just have to stay there, for fuck’s sake!” Hannah exploded like I had never seen her. Her eyes were huge. Wild. “They will do everything. You just have to be there.”
“I don’t see a reason for that,” I shrugged “They can decorate a fucking yard and find the kitchen on their own. The house isn’t that big.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” She said more to herself than to me. I took the things a step further.
“Would you mind moving your ass?” I asked, repeating her question from Monday afternoon when we were at Clem’s new house. “We are trying to play a game here.”
“Dude,” Troy whispered shouted.
“What?”
“That’s rude. Hannah’s nice.”
Fuck. The kid was right, she was nice. Always had been.
I felt something flip inside my chest. It had to be my heart, but I gave it to the unhealthy lifestyle I was leading. I wasn’t getting enough sleep on regular basis and I didn’t remember the last time I ate something green.
“Okay, I’ll rephrase,” I cleared my throat before continuing. “Would you move your ass, please, miss Spencer? It’s a fine ass, but it’s still just an ass and it is in the way.”
“I can’t believe I felt sorry for you yesterday. Your family is right not to trust you with anything. You do these things on purpose.”
“You felt sorry for me?” I grinned ear to ear. “You can’t recognize an asshole when you date one. Feel sorry for yourself, little Spencer. Also, I am not organizing a fucking wedding, engagement party or whatever, just because my twenty-four-year-old sister can’t remember to take a pill every day.”
“As if you can commit to anything for more than two hours.”
That erased the smile from my face. She realized it and the anger in her eyes disappeared. I knew we both were thinking about the same thing.
I know you will do the right thing.
Her words. I guessed she wasn’t that confident now that she had spent an entire week in my company, having a front-row seat to all my missteps.
Hannah’s face had all shades of red on it. Her eyes glistened. She shook her head and stormed out of the living room without another word.
I felt the urge to run after her. To grab her. Shake her. Make her say it aloud. Say that she didn’t believe in me. That she knew I was a screw up.
I opened my mouth to call her back, but the front door slammed shut.
I didn’t expect it, but losing Hannah Spencer’s trust felt shitty. I starred at the empty space between me and the TV.
“She’s right, dude.”
“Shut up and play, baby Lucas. We have a lot of time to kill.”
***
Several hours later, I stood in the backyard with my parents and my mother’s boyfriend. Dad landed in the afternoon and I didn’t bother to go wait for him at the airport. I was busy with Troy.
“When was the last time we saw each other?” Dad asked. I didn’t think he was actually wondering. He just searched for a topic to talk about.
“February. You came to that conference in Boston.”
“Almost six months then.” I didn’t answer and he looked around the yard, wondering what to say next. “Hannah did an amazing job with the decorations.”
“The catering company did everything, Richard. She just supervised,” my mother said.
“You could at least pretend you appreciate her efforts,” I defended the maid of honor. It was the least I could do, considering I was the reason she had to supervise in the first place. It was pure guilt. A feeling I was familiar with. It soothed me in some weird way. Grounded me even. I lived with it every single day for years. Ever since the night Liam was born. At that point I didn’t know how to exist without it, so I just welcomed it.
“If I could count on you, I wouldn’t have to engage anyone else,” my mother said. “But we all know you’re unreliable.”
“Oh,” I shot her a fake smile. “Please, save that moving speech for my engagement party.”
My mother flashed me her meanest grin.
“No one is expecting such an event ever to occur,” she said and looked to the right. She waved at someone. “You work all night. You spend your time with questionable people. And I am not even going to get into the details of your younger years and the shameful things you did in high school.” I knew she was referring to the infamous threesome I had on the football field.
“He was young. People change, Sylvia.” Dad argued my case. He was the playing the role of the supportive parent and not for the first time.
“Some people change. Tyler isn’t one of them.”
“I wonder why,” I tried to make a joke. “You are such a good example of self-improvement.”
Sylvia didn’t even bother to glance at me when she added.
“I can’t imagine a woman in her right mind ever wanting to marry you. What could she hope for?”
“Tyler has many admirers back home, Mrs. Hartley,” I heard Hannah’s voice and I felt both excited and miserable at the same time. “I have seen them with my own eyes. Some even say he is the cutest bartender in Boston.”
How the fuck did she come up with the last one?
I turned around to face her. She was looking at my mother, not me. That gave me a moment to look at her in peace. She was wearing a red knee length cocktail dress and the sexiest pair of high-heeled sandal I had ever seen. Her hair was falling down her back in waves. Her parents stood beside her. Doctor Nick was missing.
“Hannah, dear,” my mother laughed. “You are too kind. My son doesn’t deserve it.”
“I agree,” Hannah answered with her most angelic facial expression. “But I’m not a fan of public shaming. He doesn’t deserve that either.”
My mother snorted, no doubt preparing to snap back at Hannah, but Mike made himself useful and placed his hand on Sylvia’s shoulder.
“We should go greet the guests.”
My father waited for them to leave then looked at Hannah.
“Did you just accused my ex-wife of publicly shaming our son by publicly shaming her?”
Hannah just smiled at him.
“Hello, Mr. Hartley. How are you?”