29 Do You Still Think About Us?

29

do you still think about us?

Alexander

As weddings go, Amanda and Josh’s was a standard small, intimate affair. There are about thirty people in attendance now at the reception. I’m sitting alone at a table in the back running over the events of the last twenty-four hours while I watch Kate dance with Tristan in a semicircle that includes my sister, her best friend, and my mother. Kate is moving in quickly and I feel like I’m suffocating.

Yesterday she flew in at 4 p.m . She and Tristan came with me to the rehearsal dinner because I was running late and didn’t have time to take them to the hotel first. It’s another thing I should have thought through. I’m guilty of letting Kate believe she’s part of this family. Naturally, my entire family, along with many of Amanda and Josh’s friends, know Dani, so she has a great time mingling and catching up. Kate just kind of stood around after we ate last night and waited for people to come up and talk to her, but no one did. Then later, when we were alone, she complained about everyone loving Dani more .

I was up late last night reassuring her that it has nothing to do with her personally, it’s just a history that I cannot delete. And even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. In one of the low points of the conversation, Kate said, “Why is she even here?”

I replied, “Because Dani is like a sister to Amanda. She’s family and nothing is ever going to change that. Even if I got remarried, Dani would still be around.” It was another failed attempt to explain something to Kate, only to basically light myself on fire.

“So, you do eventually want to get remarried?” Kate said.

“I don’t think so,” is how I responded, but I should have just said “no.”

By the time the ceremony rolled around, Kate was over it. She put on a smile and didn’t mention anything else to me. Tristan has been on his best behavior too and the guilt about stringing her along and confusing him is starting to get to me. I asked my sister to make an effort to include Kate, so now Amanda has Kate and Tristan at the center of the dance party. Noah and Ethan are dancing near them in a group with Josh and some of his friends and family. I haven’t seen Dani in a while. Knowing her, she’s probably off somewhere becoming best friends with some member of the hotel staff.

“Wanna go smoke a ciggie?” I hear Dani’s voice behind me.

I look up and laugh. She’s tipsy. “Didn’t you give that up, like, thirty years ago?”

“Come outside with me. There’s a heater out there.”

I get up and follow her, hoping no one sees us. It would be an odd sight for us to be sneaking off together.

The outdoor area is completely empty. It’s a large Tuscan veranda reminiscent of the Macaroni Grill, only we’re overlooking a snow-covered golf course. There’s little light below or in front of us, so the golf course looks like a large white void in the moonlight. There are hints of the snowfall from earlier on the concrete, but not much. It’s still freezing. We find the one heater near the veranda rail and huddle around the base of it.

She has two cigarettes in her hand and holds one out to me. I take it. “Where did you get these?”

“From the DJ’s assistant.”

“Hanging out with the roadies again?”

“You know me. Can I get a sip of that?”

She points to my glass half full of bourbon. She takes a sip. “Holy shit. Is that just straight whiskey?”

“It’s been a long day. I’ll share.”

“It’s warming me up already. Remember when we used to do this?” she says as she lights her cigarette.

“Yeah, many long talks. Many cigarettes.” I light mine, inhale, and blow out a ring of smoke. “Damn, that’s good. I wish they weren’t so bad for you.”

“Yeah, me too. And I wish we didn’t have to roll back in there smelling like 1976,” she says. We laugh giddily. We’re both drunk.

“I don’t want to go back in at all,” I say.

“This place is like The Shining . There’s no one here. Let’s go back in and look around. Come on.” She finagles the cherry out of her cigarette and watches it fall into the snow near her feet. Dani pays attention to sounds, smells, and sights in a childlike way, like it’s the first time she’s seen fire get stifled by snow. She leaves the rest of the unsmoked cigarette on the base of the heater, so I do the same. As she starts toward the front entrance, I follow.

“Are we gonna go look for ghosts, or for Jack? Or is Jack technically a ghost now?”

She spins around on her heel so fast it creates a gust of wind. She points her finger at me. We’re mere inches apart. “Don’t,” she says in all seriousness.

Dani is the biggest scaredy-cat in the world. I’m convinced it has to do with her imagination. It’s so vivid that scary ideas or thoughts are paralyzing to her. She probably has a three-dimensional image in her mind right now of Jack wielding an ax.

“Okay, okay, sorry. You’re the one who mentioned The Shining, ” I say.

“Just don’t, please.”

She is so easily petrified that she won’t even allow conversation about something scary to take place in her presence. She hates Halloween even more than Thanksgiving and she makes it known. Every October first, she breaks out the Easter decorations for their second appearance of the year. Dani’s favorite holiday is Easter, and it’s not because of Jesus. It’s because of the chocolate and bunnies. Every year when Halloween rolls around, she says, “Chocolate and bunnies or rotten winter squash and flesh-eating zombies? You choose.” As if we actually have a choice.

She does let the boys dress up, but she wants no part in it. I picked out all of their costumes when they were little, and I’m the one who has taken them trick-or-treating over the years. In the beginning, everyone fussed about Dani’s nonparticipation in Halloween, but she would just say, “I’m sorry. I’ll make up for it at Christmas.” We’re all used to it now, but it’s still hard for me to refrain from teasing her at least a little bit.

“So, what are we looking for, then?”

“Snacks?” she says.

“Sure.”

We find our way into the dark and empty hotel kitchen. There is no way we’re allowed to be in here. There is a small white light over the industrial stove making it just bright enough for us to see where we are.

“I think that’s the freezer. Come on.”

“We don’t want to get stuck in there,” I say, and now I’m also having flashbacks from The Shining .

“Those don’t lock that way, silly. That only happens in the movies.” She yanks open the giant walk-in freezer door and a whoosh of freezing air hits us.

“I’m not going in there.”

“Whatever,” she says. She walks in and the door closes quickly behind her. The air suctioning mechanism turns on and the door is sealed closed. I have one second of worry and then I hear her joyfully yell, “Yessss!”

Less than five seconds later, she’s pushing the door open from the inside with her foot. She’s carrying a giant vat of ice cream.

I help her by pulling the door open all the way. “It’s like you have an ice cream–locating sonar.”

“Really, it’s chocolate in general, but chocolate ice cream is even better.” She sets the vat down on the stainless-steel counter and begins opening cabinets and drawers. “Where’s the spoons?” She holds up a giant serving spoon. “This should give you an idea of how much ice cream I plan to eat right now. Come on, bring your whiskey. We’ll use it as a chaser.” She hops up on the counter and begins removing the lid from the vat.

“Are you just gonna eat it straight outta that thing?”

“At this point I’ve lost all sense of decorum in most areas of my life, Alex. Why start implementing protocol now? I’ll leave a note if that makes you feel better. They can charge it to my room.”

I shake my head. “Some things never change.”

“Who would want them to? ”

She’s right. This is the Dani I fell in love with and I wouldn’t want anything about her to be different. I hop up on the counter alongside her. She pries some chocolate ice cream onto the big spoon and tries to shove the whole thing in her mouth. We’re both laughing. She’s trying not to spit it out, but I know she has brain freeze. Some of the ice cream is running down her chin. She bends completely over and wipes her mouth on the underside of her dress hem.

“Dani, I’ll look for a towel or a napkin.”

“Oh my god, that’s delicious ice cream. What is this thing?” She turns the vat around. “H?agen-Dazs. I should have known.” She spoons up some more and hands it to me. “Your turn,” she says while she sips the large glass of whiskey that we’ve barely made a dent in.

We sit side by side in silence, eating ice cream and drinking the whiskey.

She sighs. “This is nice. See, we can be nice.” There’s a noise outside the door. She jumps off the counter. “Hurry up, get down.”

Now we’re both on the floor, hiding behind the counter. We hear muffled voices having a conversation. It might be a while, so we both sit on the floor. “Smells like Lysol down here.”

“Could be worse,” I say.

“True. Who is this new glass-half-full Alex?”

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s a reason why I’ve called you a grumpaholic for the last five years.”

“I’m working on it,” I say.

“So, what’s new, Alex? What did you think of the wedding? Is everyone happy? Are you following me around The Shining because you’re trying to avoid Kate?”

Dani’s MO is rapid-fire questions before the other person has a chance to respond. “What’s new? Nothing,” I say. “The wedding was great. Amanda, Josh, my parents are happy. And no, I’m not intentionally avoiding Kate.”

“Are you happy?”

“I don’t know. At the moment, I’m drunk.”

“Me too.”

She giggles loudly. I shush her and she gets quiet. The voices are still outside the door, but it seems like they’re getting farther away.

“Tell me something I don’t know, Alex. Just one thing. Tell me a secret,” she whispers.

Dani always asks this question and I know she means something personal. “Did you know that some cats are actually allergic to humans?”

“Fascinating,” she snaps. “Tell me something I don’t know about you .”

Right now, I don’t feel guarded or mad. I feel tired. Tired of pretending that everything always has to be right or a certain way.

“I still think about you when I…you know.” I arch my eyebrows.

She doesn’t get it at first, and then her eyes get big. She realizes. “You still think about me when you jerk off?” she says, laughing.

I smile. I give up. “Yes. It’s true,” I say in all seriousness.

She stops laughing. “Really?”

I nod.

“What do you think about specifically?”

“Dani—”

“Just tell me.”

I take a deep breath. She’s not going to let me out of this. “I think about our fifth anniversary, when you were lying on that big bed in the hotel in Maui. You were on your stomach, propped up on your elbows, with your feet up behind you. Naked. Smiling at me. And then what you did next. That’s what I think about.”

She’s staring at me, blinking. For a moment, I think I’ve made her sad. “I think about that night too…on the lanai later.”

I nod. “Yeah, that was a good night.”

“Do you think about me when you’re with her?” she asks.

I nod. “Yes, and I think she senses it.”

“It’s too late for us, Alex.” Her voice is low and apologetic.

“I know,” I say. She’s right.

She blinks again, and then we’re startled by the sound of loud cheering coming from the reception.

“Oh, shit. It’s midnight,” she says. “It’s New Year’s.”

“We never missed one,” I tell her.

“Why start now?” she says, and then we’re kissing. I’m not sure who initiated it, but it feels so good.

People in their forties don’t take their time when they’re on the floor of large industrial hotel kitchens on New Year’s at midnight. I think it’s been all of forty seconds and we’re having sex. I have her pinned against a wall. She’s kissing me all over, and god, she feels amazing.

We hear the door swing open, and freeze. Even though most people would only catch a glimpse of Dani and me from the waist up, where we are still clothed, unfortunately it had to be Josh who caught us. Josh is six-foot-four. There’s no hiding.

He looks shocked for a second, and then he smiles. “Wow. Cool, cool. Happy New Year, guys!” he says. He holds up a fat joint. “I was just gonna smoke a doob in here. Sorry.” He starts to turn around to head out. He still looks confounded. As he’s walking out, he waves his arm absently in the air and says, “As you were.”

“Oh my god,” Dani says. “Thank god it was Josh. He’s stoned out of his mind already. He’ll think he was hallucinating.”

We continue, and when it’s over, we’re giggling and stumbling and searching for more alcohol, until everything fades away.

—

I wake up in my clothes in a double bed, alone. It’s my room and it’s early morning, I can tell by the light. I roll over and see a sleeping Kate and Tristan. She opens her eyes and looks across at me. She points to Tristan’s head and mouths, “Don’t wake him up. We need to talk.” She juts her thumb back, pointing at the balcony.

I’m not sure how much Kate knows, but I’m almost positive I’m in trouble. I’ve been horrible to her. We tiptoe out to the balcony and close the sliding door.

“It’s freezing out here,” Kate says. “Why did you come back here before midnight and just pass out without telling me? Were you that drunk?”

I’m putting the pieces together. Somehow, she thinks I was in the room the whole time.

“How late were you dancing?” I ask.

“We shut it down. I mean, Tristan fell asleep on a chair, but your sister, Dani, your mom, and a bunch of your sister’s friends were basically kicked out of there at 2 a.m. ,” she says with a little laugh. She holds her hand to her head. “Ow, too much alcohol. I still wish you’d have told me you were going to bed. You’re a lightweight. ”

“Dani was there?”

“Yeah. She’s so much fun. She really comes to life after midnight. She started a conga line and then she started the limbo with a broomstick…and then she stood on a chair and sang ‘Love Shack.’?”

“I’m not surprised,” I say quietly. I quickly look down and realize my belt and shoes are off. I have a one-second flashback of Dani removing them and putting me to bed last night, I’m assuming right before she made her grand reappearance on thedance floor. Some things never change. Who would want them to?