“Oh, so you were in on it, I take it?” I chuckle, “I think it’s a really good choice. The views are amazing, obviously, but the food and the drinks were stellar, too. Was it his idea or yours?”
“It was actually his,” Hildy reluctantly admits.
“Shocking, I know,” Leona breaks a tortilla chip in half with her pastel pink acrylic nails and shoots me a side-eye, “but he’s gotten good at these kinds of things.”
“Did he not used to be?” I lick some flaky salt off my fingertip and take a swig of my own margarita, thankful they seem to give decent pours here, too.
Leona gazes up in thought, “Bo’s always been good at reading people. He can tell when things get to be too overwhelming and he knows when to take charge of situations. I guess he got used to it after last time.”
I give pause at her response and the unsettling way she says, last time. Looking down at my drink, I inconspicuously lift my eyes in time to see Hildy shoot Leona a sharp look across the table. Leona brushes her off with a shrug and Hildy turns back to her tacos with a roll of her eyes.
“What do you mean, last time?” I ask nonchalantly as I take another sip of my drink.
“Oh, well,” Leona stammers, “you know…”
No, I don’t, Leona. Why don’t you tell me?
Suddenly, Hildy cuts her off, “Bo told us about what happened to your book,” she says sympathetically, “and how devastating it was.”
I stare down at my half-eaten tacos, my appetite suddenly gone. So much for a welcome distraction…
“Yeah?” I don’t look up, focusing on tracing my finger over the condensation on my glass.
“And,” Hildy continues, “he told us what happened with your best friend.”
Oh my god…
I take a deep breath and smile down at the table sardonically. I can’t believe this is happening right now. I don’t want to think about the last week, or even the last month. When did all of this madness start, anyway? It doesn’t matter, though, because I don’t want to talk about any of it. And I can’t believe Bowen told both his mom and sister about all of this.
But Hildy’s not finished, “It’s understandable you’d be so distracted and not even know what happened to the book. It’s like adding insult to injury.”
I finally glance up at her, “How’s that?”
“Because, Brett,” Hildy scoffs, “I can’t imagine if I had to go to work every day with a stalker that tried to murder me. I can’t believe you’ve been living with that for so long!”
I just stare back at her, not breathing.
“Bo said it’s been driving you crazy. You’re distracted, forgetting things, and then you accidentally delete your book—”
“I didn’t delete my book,” I suddenly snap, making Hildy jump.
Leona’s eyes dart between us as she stirs the ice in her margarita.
Hildy shakes her head, “Sorry, I know you didn’t delete your book, what I mean is with all of this going on at once, it’s no surprise you’re getting so stressed out about getting married. It should be the happiest time in your life and, instead, your best friend betrays you in the worst way possible while you’re also dealing with some psycho at work.”
I want to die.
Leona turns to me, “We just want you to know we’re here for you, sweetheart. Bad things happen to good people, but it doesn’t mean you have to deal with it on your own,” she points one of her long, acrylic nails at me, “you’re family now—don’t forget it. I know the rest of yours is far away, and I can’t imagine what it’s like to live in a different country than your parents and sister, but we’re here for you, no questions asked.”
I stare back at them as the realization sets in. This isn’t dinner, it’s an intervention.
My skin starts to crawl as my muscles tremble with agitation. I’m stunned and mortified that Bowen thought it was a good idea to tell Hildy and Leona any of this. And I don’t like either of them talking about who did what and how I should feel about it. Maybe Barrett’s been a rotten best friend, but she’s still my rotten best friend and I’m the only one who can say shit about it. And, as for Colson…
“Mom’s right, Bo’s a really good guy and he would do anything for you, Brett. If you have a problem, he’ll do whatever it takes to fix it…”
Hildy’s voice begins to fade until it’s a muted hum in my ears. The tingling over my skin gets more intense, like someone poking me in the arm, trying to get my attention. My leg starts jiggling and I feel like I’m preparing to jump up and run off the deck any moment. I can feel the adrenaline pumping, but I don’t know why. Finally, I shake it off as much as I can before meeting Hildy’s eyes again.
“Brett, you know I’m always here for you,” Hildy continues, “you’re already like a sister and I’ll help you with whatever you need—wedding-related or otherwise.”
I don’t know why, but suddenly everyone at this table is acting like I’m one enchilada away from a nervous breakdown. And I don’t appreciate my entire dumpster fire of a life being laid out across the table between the two-for-one margaritas and carnitas.
“That’s really nice of you—to help me, I mean.” I let my eyes wander over the trees before settling back on Hildy, “Did Emily also go crazy after Bowen proposed to her?”
Hildy opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Leona drops her glass back onto the table with clang.
“Proposed?” Leona whips around to Hildy, “To Emily?”
“Did you try to help her, too?” I spit, rolling my eyes as I look away.
Leona ignores me and stares at Hildy, “And you knew about this?”
“Jesus, Mom…” Hildy groans with a roll of her eyes, “No, I didn’t know.”
I let out a scoff and stare across the creek in astonishment.
God, I’m so tired of all your family secrets and keeping track of who knows what.
Leona turns away from Hildy and grabs her glass, tilting it back and gulping down the second half of her margarita in one go. Then she sits in irate silence, tapping her nail on the wrought iron table and shaking her head at Hildy every few seconds as she tries to calm down.
