Page 49 of Kiss My Glass
“Do you think we can run away?” I murmur to Frankie and am gratified to hear her laugh.
“They’d hunt us down,” she says, and starts walking their way.
“Oh my god, you guys look socute!” says Jordan as we join them in the booth. “All retro preppy like a 1950s beach movie!”
Jordan herself is wearing a blue athletic tank top and a pair of very short shorts. Her curly blonde hair is tied up in a ponytail and she has no makeup on whatsoever. Her fresh outdoorsy look and sunny open personality couldn’t contrast more with Shelby’s other best friend, Chiara, who is polished to the max and about as sunny and open as a nuclear bunker. But who am I to judge what attracts people to each other? I thought Frankie hated me and now we’re a thing. Okay, not quite a thing. I might be feeling on top of the world right now, but I shouldn’t leap too eagerly ahead. That way danger lies.
“How was Ted?” says Chiara, because of course she knows exactly where we’ve been.
“Ted-like.” Frankie plays Chiara at her own game, and I am pettily delighted to see a hint of irritation in Chiara’s face.
“Ted is the best,” says Jordan. “You know, he donates money every year so we can run a summer camp for disadvantaged children?”
Her enthusiastic tribute coincides with Brendan’s arrival with curly fries.
“Least he can do,” says Brendan, dumping the plastic baskets on the table. “Got more money than God.”
“But he doesn’t have to spend it on us,” Jordan points out. “He could spend it on … on…”
“Luxury yachts? Private islands? Graff diamond watches?” suggests Chiara, thus revealing three of her personal life goals.
“Exactly!” says Jordan. “Ted really cares about our community. We’re solucky to have him here.”
I’m pettily delighted a second time to see the conflict in Brendan’s face. It’s clear he disagrees with every fiber of his being but does not want to upset Jordan. Last time he did that, Shelby told us, she shunned him for weeks.
“Another beer?” he says. Playing it safe.
“No, thanks,” says Jordan, cheerfully. “Next kids’ camp starts tomorrow and I’ve got to get up early and drive. But I’m glad Chiara made me come back here in between. It’s been so nice to see you all!”
She says, “all” but she’s smiling only at Brendan, who freezes for a moment like a deer in headlights before muttering, “Yup” and walking back to the bar at a pace a petty person might describe as hurried.
“God, his rear is delicious,” says Jordan. “I can’t wait for winter, when I can come here and ogle it all the time.”
“Call me crazy,” says Frankie. “But wouldn’t it move things along faster if you told Brendan how you feel?
Chiara emits a disapproving tut-tut sound. Jordan gazes at Frankie as if sheiscrazy. I have no idea what’s going on here.
“I don’t want a relationship,” says Jordan. “Not yet. I’m too busy. I’m happy to leave things as they are.”
Frankie nods, apparently accepting that as an answer. I’m none the wiser but it seems the subject is now closed.
“What’s next with you two?” says Chiara. “I hear the dancing was a success.”
Yes, she does put subtle air quotes around “dancing”. Shelby has spilled the tea.
“Oh, cute,” says Jordan. “I can just imagine you two on the dance floor.”
Okay, so Shelby hasn’t spilled to everyone. Yet.
“Go karting,” I say, and with a glance at Frankie, add, “Maybe a game of pickleball?”
“Fun!” says Jordan, who no doubt thinks every sport in the world is fun, including that old English one where they put ferrets down their trousers.
Frankie doesn’t appear to be listening. Her perfect forehead is creased in a frown. Chiara says what I’m thinking. “Something on your mind, Frankie?”
“Um – yeah…”
Because it’s so unusual for Frankie to be hesitant, we all stare at her. She quickly gathers herself and addresses Chiara and Jordan.
