The golden couple, p.25
The Golden Couple, page 25
I know I shouldn’t say this, but I can’t stop thinking about our night.
She blinks hard, and the image of those printed words disappears, only to be replaced by these: I’m not letting you go so easily.
She tries to track the relaxed banter, but her mind is churning.
She takes a sip of water as Matthew tells the punch line and Avery and Skip laugh; Marissa has missed another beat.
She watches Matthew lift his glass of wine and drink from it. Skip must have brought the same Argentinean Malbec over as he had the night she slept with him; she recognized the label when Matthew offered it to her.
Why won’t Skip just leave them alone?
Her gaze drifts to the coffee table, where three children’s games are stacked up. Pictionary, Scattergories, and a card game.
Truth or Dare for kids! Reads the description on the box. Pretend to be a dog! Do you believe in ghosts? Do a crazy dance!
Marissa’s body is trembling. She can’t be here for another minute; she has to get Skip and Avery out of her house, now. At last there is a break in the conversation and she fakes a yawn.
It’s unlike her husband to miss a cue such as this; normally Matthew would find a way to gracefully end the evening. But he merely leans forward and grabs another handful of nuts.
Avery takes the bait and stands. She looks from Matthew to Skip and then to Marissa. She hesitates for a moment.
Marissa’s throat thickens; she swallows back the surge of nausea. Don’t leave me alone with them! she wants to cry out.
Matthew begins to rise. He is a chivalrous host, of course he will show Avery out. And Marissa will be left alone with Skip.
But before Matthew can get to his feet, Avery says, “Actually, Marissa, can we chat for a second?”
Marissa nods and follows Avery into the entryway. She has no idea what Avery wants from her. Why did she drop by tonight uninvited?
Before Marissa can say a word, Avery begins, “When I leave, tell Matthew and Skip you don’t feel well. That you are having some sort of reaction to the oil the masseuse used. That you need to excuse yourself. And then go directly upstairs.”
“But what about Bennett? What about dinner?”
“Marissa, your husband is a capable man. He’ll figure it out. Besides, once Skip leaves, you will have a miraculous recovery and can recapture your family night.”
Marissa nods. “Okay.”
Avery leans in closer, her voice a whisper. “I know he’s the guy.”
Marissa rears back. Is it that obvious?
Avery looks directly into Marissa’s eyes, seeming to take measure of her. Does Avery suspect what else Marissa is hiding?
“I’ll need to see you tomorrow for another session.”
Marissa swallows hard and nods. “Of course. I can make myself available whenever you’d like.”
Avery nods crisply, as if that were a given. Marissa feels a rush of relief; Avery not only showed up at the best possible moment—almost as if she intuited how desperately she would be needed—but she has also provided Marissa with an out tonight.
Avery points toward the family room, where the two men await. “Now go.”
* * *
Marissa leans her head back against the hard porcelain tub, wishing the hot water would melt the coldness inside her. Downstairs, Matthew and Skip are probably still chatting, and she has no idea what Skip’s agenda is in showing up here tonight. He’d said he would be in LA until Friday evening, so he must have come straight here from the airport.
Regardless, they had an agreement—to see each other on Monday at the coffee shop. Why would he change that plan without telling her?
Matthew had said he’d put a frozen pizza in the oven for Bennett for dinner, which means he’ll need to leave the living room to heat up the oven and pop in the pie, then again to take it out and call Bennett down to dinner. Those interruptions to his conversation with Skip might finally prompt Skip to leave.
Marissa uses her toes to turn the tap down to a trickle and sinks lower into the water. The anonymous bouquet, the ominous note, Skip’s uninvited appearance tonight … none of it seems true to character.
These actions, taken together and under the circumstances, feel almost malicious, designed to inflict distress. While Skip would never be called a saint, in all the years she has known him—since she was seven and Skip was nine!—she can’t think of a single time he acted deliberately cruelly. The only hurtful instance she can recall occurred when he seemingly rejected her after their kiss, during the summer that seemed to be on all of their minds tonight.
Now that Avery knows the truth about Skip, Marissa can finally tell her the full story about the summer she kissed Skip but ended up as Matthew’s girl.
Marissa closes her eyes, getting the narrative straight in her head. The details remain so vivid that the scenes spring forward, fully formed.
The rhythms of that season had shifted: Her parents deemed her old enough to close up Conner’s, so several nights a week Marissa ate dinner early at the kitchen table, then went to relieve her father. After she locked up the store, she would sometimes wander down to the shore to meet up with the other teens.
The night she saw Skip with new eyes began as just another warm, languid evening. The moon was tucked behind clouds, so she used the small flashlight on her key chain to make her way down to the water, her flip-flops squeaking slightly with every step. Once she got closer to the beach, the light of the bonfire helped guide her, and she could hear the Red Hot Chili Peppers blaring from a boom box.
There was often alcohol—pilfered from parents’ liquor cabinets or bought from the bored clerk at the Stop ’n Save—and sometimes a little pot, too. Marissa occasionally sipped a wine cooler, but never drank more than one.
“Hey, Marissa,” Tina called out. “C’mere, we’re about to start Truth or Dare.” Tina’s speech was slurred, the way it always got when she was buzzed, something she’d been doing a lot more of that summer.
“Seems like the party started early tonight,” Marissa called back, but by then Tina’s attention was on twisting another can of Bud Light out of the plastic six-pack ring. Marissa and Tina had been best friends through eighth grade, sharing clothes and makeup, stickers and secrets. But right before high school began, Tina’s father moved away and Tina’s mom seemed to completely check out of parenting. Tina appeared to grow up overnight. Instead of wanting to be with Marissa, Tina started cutting classes, partying, and hanging out with some of the older kids. She already had a reputation, although no one knew how true the rumors were.
As Marissa drew closer, she saw Skip standing there, a smile curling the edges of his mouth, holding firewood logs. His arms were flexed under the weight, and she could see the outline of his biceps beneath his old T-shirt. His face being partly in the golden firelight and partly in shadows made him look both familiar and somehow brand-new.
She smiled back, feeling a strange flutter in her stomach.
Skip lifted up a log and tossed it on the fire, sending up a shower of sparks, then used a big stick to pull apart two pieces of wood, allowing more air to mix with the flames.
Out of the corner of her eye Marissa watched him work, struck by his physicality, his strong shoulders and biceps flexing as he lifted and pulled. Then he’d turned and smiled at her with a boyish grin that let her know he’d caught her watching.
When she claimed a seat, she felt another flutter when Skip came to sit beside her.
“I’ll go first,” Tina cried, jumping to her feet. “Someone give me a dare!”
The game progressed predictably: kids usually accepted dares—running into the surf fully clothed, shotgunning beers—but a few selected truths.
Then it was Marissa’s turn. Usually Marissa picked truth, partly because she didn’t have any big secrets, and partly because the dares got edgier as the game wore on.
But tonight, something pushed her to say, “Dare.”
“Kiss one of the guys next to you,” a girl giggled.
Marissa pretended to hesitate, as if she were considering which boy to choose. She took another sip of her wine cooler for courage, then turned toward Skip. She leaned forward and closed her eyes. His lips were soft and he smelled like suntan lotion and the Wintergreen Life Savers he always carried in his pocket.
The whole interaction lasted less than five seconds, but for Marissa, it changed everything.
As the game continued, she was acutely aware of Skip—Skip, the boy she’d known forever!—just inches away. She swore she felt his awareness of her, too.
Tina also seemed to sense it.
Marissa detected the heat of Tina’s glare. Marissa had a hunch Tina liked Skip, but Tina seemed to like lots of guys. Skip wasn’t hers to claim.
Besides, the sting of Tina’s abrupt withdrawal from Marissa’s life hadn’t abated.
Tina abruptly stood up, even though it wasn’t her turn. “I dare myself to take off my shirt!” Guys hooted and cheered as Tina slowly lifted her top, first revealing her pale, soft stomach and then her bright pink bra.
Marissa could barely fill out an A cup, and for a moment she was as awestruck as the boys by Tina’s lush body. It hadn’t been that long ago that Tina and she had stuffed socks in their training bras, giggling as they admired themselves in Marissa’s bedroom mirror.
A few of the kids clapped as Tina did a little shimmy. She stumbled briefly before catching her balance again.
“Dare you to take off your bra!” shouted Jimmy Parsons, one of the rough boys, who was a year ahead of Marissa. Instead of laughing and sitting back down, Tina slowly reached back with both hands, but she wasn’t looking at Jimmy. Her eyes, outlined in a bright turquoise, were staring straight at Skip.
Marissa heard the quick intake of breath of the guy on the other side of her.
The tenor of the evening changed instantly, as if the darkness just beyond them had seeped into their circle of firelight.
“Do it! Do it!” Jimmy chanted.
“Do it!” several other guys joined in.
The boys’ energy was palpable; it felt to Marissa as if a pack of wolves had picked up the scent of a rabbit. Tina was too impaired and too desperate for attention—even the wrong kind of attention.
Marissa jumped up. “Hey, Tina. Why don’t you have some water? Maybe it’s time to go home.…”
“Who are you, the hall shark?” one of the guys yelled, bringing up the nickname of the school monitor who kept tabs on the students.
“C’mon, man.” Skip reached over and gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder.
“We’ve all seen her tits anyway,” Jimmy said, leering. “It takes one beer to kiss her, two beers to touch her, three beers to undress her, and four beers to fuck her!”
More hooting and hollering came from the other boys, and Marissa watched as Tina crumpled, as if the words were stones raining down on her.
“Screw you!” Tears streaked down Tina’s face. She grabbed her shirt and began to run.
They all watched her go, then Jimmy said, “I didn’t even get to what she does after five drinks!”—which made everyone laugh, except Marissa and Skip.
The laughter must have carried to Tina. As Marissa watched Tina slip as she struggled to run in the soft sand, Marissa found herself thinking about how before Tina’s parents divorced and the two girls would have sleepovers, Tina used to fall asleep snuggling a stuffed monkey. How utterly alone she must feel, Marissa thought.
“One of us should get her home,” Marissa whispered to Skip. “Make sure she’s all right.”
Skip looked at her in surprise. “Yeah?”
Marissa nodded. The thing swelling between her and Skip—it could wait.
“Do you want to go, or should I?”
“Let’s both go,” Marissa decided.
But that had been the wrong call: Of all the things Marissa regretted in life, this topped the list. She should have chased after Tina alone and hugged her and invited her to stay over again. Maybe then Tina would have been safe.
Seeing Skip and Marissa together had only upset Tina more. She’d lashed out at them, then run away again. By the time Marissa unlocked her front door later that night, her parents were sound asleep. She slipped upstairs quietly, put her clothes in the hamper, and brushed her teeth.
She lay awake for a long time, though.
The next morning, she awoke much later than usual and headed into the kitchen. Both her mother and her father sat huddled at the small table whispering, which made no sense, because who was manning the store?
They lifted their heads and stared at her. She’d only seen them look that way—so pale and stricken—once before, when her maternal grandmother had suddenly died of a heart attack.
“What is it?” Marissa had gasped.
“Sweetheart.” Her mother’s voice caught. “We have some terrible news. Tina…”
Her mother didn’t continue—maybe she couldn’t—and Marissa felt her heart pound. Dread infused her.
“Tina was found dead,” Marissa’s father finally said. “The police think she was murdered.”
Marissa’s legs buckled.
Everything changed again, seemingly in an instant.
The whole town went on high alert. No kids were allowed out alone, even in the daytime. Marissa’s father closed up the store in the evenings while she stayed home with her mother and Luke. Details and rumors seeped out: Tina had been beaten to death. No, she’d been suffocated. Her body was found on a pile of rocks near the water. She’d been raped—or maybe she’d had consensual sex. She’d been discovered by an early-morning fisherman, but had likely been killed around ten the previous evening, shortly after she’d left the bonfire.
The police questioned all the kids who’d been at the beach that night, including Marissa, who told them about Truth or Dare, Tina’s drinking, and how she and Skip had gone after Tina and tried to console her, but she’d resisted, calling Marissa a bitch and physically lashing out at Skip and scratching his forearm, so they gave up.
Skip walked me home afterwards, Marissa had said.
The detective nodded and jotted something down in his notebook.
So we were the last ones to see her alive? Marissa had whispered. Marissa’s father had placed a hand on her shoulder; he’d told the police there was no way they were going to talk to his teenaged daughter without him being present.
The police detective had regarded her, expressionless. “Other than the killer.”
The phone rang all the time, bringing news from friends and neighbors, and Marissa’s father carried home more information from the store’s customers. A timeline emerged: Most of the kids stayed at the bonfire, continuing the games and drinking. After he walked Marissa home, Skip had apparently gone to Matthew’s house, which seemed odd to Marissa, since he and Matthew weren’t close, and Skip had watched a movie with Matthew. Matthew’s mother verified this, saying she’d brought the boys a bowl of popcorn and cans of soda. Everyone had an alibi, and besides, no one thought one of the teenagers was a murderer.
A suspect emerged quickly: the English teacher at the high school, who’d always seemed a little creepy. Four days later, everyone in town breathed a collective sigh of relief when the teacher was arrested for Tina’s murder after he gave a full confession. The police found pictures of Tina and some of the other cheerleaders, taken surreptitiously at their practice, on his camera.
A memorial service was held for Tina, but after the tears and the high school choir’s rendition of “Amazing Grace,” it seemed as if she was quickly forgotten, as if the tide that had erased the traces of her footprints that night had also washed away memories of Tina herself. The beach bonfires resumed, though no one ever suggested playing Truth or Dare.
By August, the paralyzing fog around Marissa finally yielded to a more manageable grief. She’d barely left the house, other than to lay flowers on Tina’s grave—pink and purple bouquets, because those were Tina’s favorite colors—but now Marissa began to venture out again, and to resume working at the family store.
Skip seemed different, though. Marissa hoped he’d seek out her company; more than that, she’d counted on it. But he never did. When she bumped into him, he was both friendly and remote.
She told herself she’d imagined the spark between them. She had kissed him, not the other way around.
Then, in mid-August, Matthew came into Conner’s to buy his mother coffee beans.
Now Marissa looks down at the wedding band on her finger, then plunges her head down into the warm water. Seeing those words on the card game—Truth or Dare—brought back so many memories.
Including the one of that first kiss. The spark she’d felt for Skip had never gone away. It had merely lay dormant until Skip’s second kiss reignited it a few weeks ago.
But she loves her husband. She made a choice long ago to commit to Matthew.
Marissa’s head breaks the surface just as Matthew knocks on the door.
“Sweetie? You okay in there?”
“Yes, thanks.”
“Skip just left.”
Marissa mentally wills a message to Avery: Thank you. “I’ll be down in a minute. I’m feeling better now.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
AVERY
GABE’S DELI IS a Washington, D.C., institution. Nestled between a copy shop and an upscale sneaker store, it’s a hole-in-the-wall, but the food is anything but ordinary. Gabe, the owner, has reimagined classic comfort dishes—mac ’n’ cheese, meat loaf, and chicken noodle soup—with a healthy twist. The ingredients are farm fresh, organic, and wholesome.
The cashier by the front door, who doubles as a hostess, tells me there’s a waiting list for a booth, but a few counter stools are open.
I glance around the restaurant and thank her. The counter will do just fine.
“Guess that bowl of nuts didn’t fill you up either,” I comment to Skip, who is tapping a message into his phone on the next stool over.
He looks startled, but recovers quickly. He must realize I followed him here when he left the Bishops. Maybe he even expected it on some level.
