“The worst.”
“All that pining away.”
“And she saves that crappy linoleum table.” We’re both laughing, sort of. “I’m not going to hug you,” he says.
“Okay.”
“I just think it would be too much.”
“What’s this? The winners’ circle?” Martin appears on the terrace with three young women.
Leo stands up to be introduced. The girls are talking in the most high-pitched voices I’ve ever heard, literally squealing with delight. Leo dons his gracious public persona as he talks to them. I’m still seated, dirty napkin in hand, and I ponder the fact that I’ve just been broken up with by a person I dated ten months ago. Was it gallant of him to address it, to acknowledge that it was actually something? Maybe. But did that balance out the thoughtlessness of leaving it unsaid for so long? If we were as close as I remember us being, if I didn’t imagine the whole thing, he could have just said it. “I’m not coming back.” I didn’t anticipate that he’d turn out to be a coward, yet here we are.
I decide that I want to leave on this note. We’ve made a little peace; he probably doesn’t feel guilty anymore. I got to hear that our thing was a thing. I’m in a gorgeous dress and I’m about to make off with his pen. Let’s roll the credits on this.
“I’m going to head out,” I say to Martin. He grabs me and hugs me and says how happy he is for all of us. I’m to take his limo and have it return for him later.
I turn to Leo and the girls and say, as if they all have equal importance in my life, “Well, good night. Hope you all get home safely.” And it feels like the second time I’ve won tonight.
* * *
? ? ?
I am certain that if I can get back to my hotel, get into my pajamas, and wash my face raw, that all of life’s mysteries will become perfectly clear to me. It’s two A.M. by the time I’m out of the bathtub and in bed, Oscar on the pillow next to me, compliments of my parents.
Leo hasn’t been with Naomi this whole time. He’s been on his own or with dozens of other women who he decided are better than being with me. It wasn’t like he was swept into some big love affair, he just left. I wasn’t enough to come back for. At a minimum, I wasn’t practical. I fall asleep clinging to new pieces of information: （1） Leo got drunk and told his family about me. （2） Leo isn’t great to talk to; Leo’s great at talking to me. （3） Our thing mattered to him.
I wake at ten o’clock because my kids are FaceTiming me. “You looked so pretty, Mommy. And I liked all the things you said.” I don’t remember anything I said, I’ll have to look that up.
“Can I see the trophy?” Arthur asks and then laughs when I show him Oscar tucked into bed next to me. He studies my face. “Did you talk to Leo?”
“Barely. He was sitting right in front of me, but there were a million people to talk to. Peter Harper is not as tall as you’d think.”
Bernadette grabs the phone. “Ohmigod, Mom, Naomi looked so pretty. Could we do that with my hair?” There’s a skirmish of some sort, Arthur wants her to shut up and give him the phone. I lie back on my pillow, relishing both the love I feel for these kids and the fact that I can hang up anytime I want.
“Want to hear something crazy?” I say. “Naomi and Leo were never even dating. It was all publicity for the movie.” I’m not entirely sure why I feel the need to gossip with my kids. It’s possible that I just need to say it to someone.
Bernadette’s eyes go wide. “That’s so sneaky. And it worked!”
Arthur seems hesitant. His face fills half the screen, and I think about how I can so often read his mind. He’s running something through his processors; I can almost hear the click click click of it. Then again, one time I was sure he was being bullied at school, and it turned out he was just upset because I kept breaking the yokes on his egg sandwiches.
“Listen. Guys. Tell Penny I’ll be there tonight; I’ll come straight from the airport and maybe we can have a sleepover in her guest room—you guys, me, and Oscar.”
They erupt in cheers before going back to their fight.
CHAPTER 23
I am back in Laurel Ridge for twenty-four hours before the shit hits the fan. Looking back, I knew something was wrong with Arthur. I tried to tease his feelings out of him, but I didn’t try hard enough. I was in so much pain for so long that I wasn’t willing to make room for what was so obvious. There’s nothing more shameful than this retrospective knowing, because it reminds you how blind you can be to things that don’t jibe with the reality you’re trying to believe in. It was the same way with Ben and Vicky Miller. I knew before I found the underwear. I probably knew what Ben was going to do before he did. I just didn’t feel like knowing.