I should have seen this coming.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been blindsided.
Ryan is scanning the crowd for a sign of me when I leave the bathroom. He’s still in the same place I left him, probably thinking that it would make it easier for me to find him if he stayed put.
But James and the woman with him are long gone.
Ryan pulls me close the second I reach him, his arm sliding around my waist. “Are you okay?” he asks. “You look pale.”
The woman’s appearance here is concerning, but I don’t know exactly how just yet. It’s easy to jump to conclusions and assume this has something to do with my last job, but it’s a mistake not to consider any and all other options as well. I’ve made a lot of enemies over the last ten years, but people you trust can turn on you just as easily.
I remind myself—I only deal in facts.
Nodding, I clear my throat. “Yes, all good. That drink went straight to my head.”
He seems relieved that my predicament has an easy remedy and pulls me to the buffet table and loads a plate of food for me. Ryan finds two open spots at a white-linen-covered table and sets the plate between us. “If you don’t feel better after eating some of this, we can leave.”
But there’s no way I’m leaving until I have another crack at that woman. I pick through the offerings on the plate, nibbling on a finger sandwich while Ryan signals to a passing waiter for a bottle of water.
Deep breaths. I need to get back on my game.
“It looks like it’s been a long time since you’ve seen your friend James,” I say.
“Yeah, God, probably two years. We were close as kids. He didn’t move back after college.” He frowns. “Things have been tough for him. Said he’s in town because his dad fell and broke his leg. Sounds like he’ll be here for a while, helping his mom take care of him.”
“Maybe we can have them over for dinner while he’s here. Give you two a chance to catch up.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, maybe.”
I want to ask about the girl. What he knows about her. If he knows anything about her. If there was anything he learned after I ran off to the bathroom. But that’s so unlike me. This me I’ve created doesn’t pry. Doesn’t ask unnecessary questions. Doesn’t push for information about his friends or their companions. I need the moments that include James and his date to be buried in the blur of the day and not become the chunk of time that separates itself and becomes its own memory.
Because that’s all it would take. It’s been said that if you want a slice of time to stick out, to be crystal clear in your mind, one small difference in an otherwise normal routine is all it takes. Like if you’re the type who has trouble remembering whether you locked your front door before leaving for vacation, you should separate it from all the other perfunctory times you’ve locked your front door. Something as simple as turning around in a circle just before you slip the key in the lock would do it. A simple movement and forever that memory will be burned into your mind. It becomes clear enough to play over and over again. You see the door, the key turning, the doorknob wobbling when you tested the lock, and there’s no guessing whether or not you did it because you know you did.
I don’t need Ryan analyzing this moment later, wondering why I had such an interest in his old friend and the woman from North Carolina. Why I actively wanted to hunt them down so that we could spend more time with them. I don’t need these questions to be the turn before locking the door.
There are a lot of people here, but not so many that we shouldn’t bump into them again before it’s over. For now, I’ll bide my time and run through every scenario that might make this make sense.
“That hat looks fabulous on you!” Sara squeals as she approaches the table.
I tilt my head from side to side, the hat bobbling along with me. “Yours too!” I say back enthusiastically.
The rest of Ryan’s friend group arrive shortly after her, and from the glassy looks to the pink cheeks, I’d say drinks before was a success.
Ryan stands up from the table, greeting his closest friends with a handshake and a firm grip on the shoulder. If they have any issues with us bailing on the pre-party, they don’t show it. The guys form a tight circle a few feet away while Sara drops down in Ryan’s vacated chair. Beth and Allison pull up ones from a nearby table, but Rachel remains standing a few feet away.
Allison scoots to the edge of her chair then beckons Rachel over. “Here, put a cheek down and we’ll share this one.”