Page 61 of Grift

As the dishes circle, I fill my plate and put some on Jessica’s, passing them on. She’s looking at me curiously before I realize what I’m doing. Serving her. Shit.

“Jessica, tell me, what’s it like being married to Patrick?” Kieran asks, with a big grin around a mouthful of potatoes.

My stomach sinks. The good-natured newlywed ribbing feels off. I hate that they’re putting her on the spot. I hate that it’s making me feel every ache around how this isn’t going to last.

“Actually, it’s great,” she responds. “He’s taken a very active interest in my work. Before long, he’ll be an expert in Egyptology.”

I cough on the water I am drinking. Even just the word Egyptology gives me a hard-on after that night in the museum. Her foot lightly traces over mine under the table.

God damn it.

Callan’s glancing between us. “And you don’t find his temper challenging?”

Apparently, he’s still in a shitty mood after the Lila incident and not afraid to try to make me uncomfortable.

Jessica gives him a bright smile, looking me over with innocent eyes. “Patrick’s temper? Not at all. He’s excellent at self-control and he’s definitely working on his discipline.”

She’s trying to kill me.

She’s flirting with me in front of my family.

God, she’s hot.

“Interesting,” Callan sits back, glaring at me.

Jessica looks brightly at Siobhan. “Now tell me the story again of how you two started dating?”

Catriona laughs out loud. “Well, speaking of Patrick’s temper.”

It goes on and on like this. It’s one of the easiest family gatherings we’ve had. My parents didn’t come; I don’t ask why.

Whenever they’re in the room, the tension’s higher. It makes me wonder how my relationships with my siblings could have been without the influence of my parents. Or how they might be someday if my father’s influence is less pronounced.

But mostly, I watch Jessica. She’s completely at ease, perfectly poised in every situation. She discusses music with Siobhan, art with Catriona, and sports with Rory. Her banter delights Kieran, who meets my eyes and gives me one, short nod of approval. Even Callan, who seems determined to not engage, discusses his thoughts on the future of Boston’s waterfront when she entices him into conversation.

It’s better because she’s here.

I can already know how this – and everything else – is going to feel when she’s gone.

My phone vibrates. It’s a text from Lila.

“Close to resolution. It’s pretty fucked up, Patrick. Give me a few more days max.”

I need to start saying goodbye to Jessica now, to spare her any more pain from this.

And if I’m really honest? Myself.

It’s time to lock down these feelings and focus on taking action.

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