Page 38 of Present Tense

My phone is buzzing, but I refuse to answer it.

She stops, looks at me, and says, “You know I can hear that, right? Go see them and deal with it. And then let’s ignore our fucking families for the next couple of days.”

There’s a distant look in her eyes I remember from when she was a teenager. She’s slipped on her impenetrable mask. She used to slip it on when dealing with her father or bitchy girls. I’ve seen her do it with others, but never with me before. Well, maybe once or twice when I was obnoxious growing up. But I certainly want no part of it now. I can fix this.

I move toward her and she steps back. I continue to rub my hands together in front of me and let the frigid air pull us even farther apart.

“Let’s talk about this at the restaurant. You’re going to freeze.” I gesture for us to keep walking.

She stamps her foot on the ground. “It’s not that cold. I’m from Chicago. I can handle your balmy thirty-five degrees. I’ll walk home. You go now and deal with this. I want you completely focused on my pussy. No distractions.”

I smile but then have a mini burst of unexpected anger. “Fine. Fuck. We should just be eating and fucking. Not dealing with all of them. Twenty-four hours ago we shared a past, not a present.” Her eyes soften a smidge.

“True. Not sure anyone could see this coming. Or all the coming, to be honest.”

I smile at her joke. I reach out and uncross her arms. She lets me and I lace my fingers into hers.

I smirk. “I’ll go after you answer a pressing question.” I pause, and she leans in. “How often do you screw your trainer?”

“Maybe ten times in the last six months. Drunk booty calls, mostly. Only when Ethan’s out of town or at a friend’s house. And twice at the gym.”

“At the gym?”

“We’re already sweaty. There’s soft mats. It was leg day. It made sense.”

I laugh. I’m jealous of a guy not because he fucked her, but because he’ll get to see her again. Spend time with her, even if it’s only thirty minutes at a time.

“I’ll be, like, ten minutes. I’ll go there. Listen to their bullshit. Say no and be back inside you within the hour.” She grins and nods. I kiss her nose and hand her my spare key.

“I’ll be at home waiting.”

25

LIAM

I remain standing to greet the women I’m genetically related to. I don’t want to sit.

“Liam Fletcher. I have held my tongue long enough. What is going on?”

“Hiya, Ma. You’ve held your tongue for exactly an hour and a half.” I kiss her on the cheek as she presents it to me. Then I half-heartedly kiss my sister’s cheek. “Lisa. What a surprise. It’s been too long.” She sticks up her well manicured middle finger just out of my mother’s sightline. “You know we’re in our thirties, right?”

I’m sure she’s worked my mother up into a frenzy. I love my sister because she’s my sister. Like her, meh, sometimes. We’ve never been on the same page. But after Nina left, she was great about it all. We were the closest I think we’ve ever been. Then, like four months ago, she became this raging judgmental bitch again. Now Jillien seems to hit some nuclear button. And if she says anything, I will launch. Their entire story seems to be a thing I should know about.

I smile at Lisa. “By all means, don’t hold your tongue any longer.” I pour a glass of Pinot Grigio for Bev. I turn to my sister. “Booze? Snack? Possibly a muzzle?”

“No mind, Liam. I’ll have what my mother is having.”

They’re trying to build tension by tenting their fingers in unison and staring. I can take it. I don’t think they can. I say nothing. I smile at them. I check my watch, they’ve wasted fifteen minutes already, and that’s enough. I’m gone in five.

I sit across from them for the inquiry. I cross my legs and pull at the crease to straighten at the knee. I’m wearing my black chukkas. I polished them this morning. A ritual my dad used to do with me. Thursdays, we polish our shoes. I’m staring at the shine when his voice interrupts me. I know it’s not him, but I hear him sometimes in my head. He’d enjoy this inquisition. He’d be on my side. He always pushed us to be more impulsive, more daring. He used to encourage me to be bold. He adored Jillien, sometimes I think more than he liked my sister because she was so impetuous, funny, and earnest.

I wonder what he’d think of Jillien now? It seems she’s pulled back to a safe and comfortable defensive position in life. She plays it all close to her vest, versus the nutty, open girl who had no secrets or regrets from our youth. I don’t even know what she would think about long-distance dating. Or the idea that I’m so fucking smitten I can barely see straight.

We sit sipping and staring for way too long.

I knew Lisa would break first. “Jillien Thompson. Really? What are you doing? She was a mess as a child and from what I’ve heard continues that trend as an adult.”

I want to rip her face off, but I exhale slowly. I put on the lawyer persona.