Page 46 of When I Come Back
“That definitely sounds like our Cary here,” says Thea, finally breaking her silence. I run my hand down my face as my stomach roils around the many drinks I’ve already put back.
Iris shoots her a bemused look. “I’m the food distributor for Cary’s restaurant. We met on the job years ago. He was this new hotshot chef making some sort of award-winning custard dish during one of the country’s biggest egg shortages, and I just so happened to personally know a few chicken farmers who weren’t affected. I hooked him up… and then we hooked up,” she says cheekily and leans a shoulder into me affectionately.
I swig back the rest of my drink.
Suddenly Brooks appears beside the table. “Well, look at this. I show up a little late and you give away my seat,” he says too loudly for the inside of a restaurant.
He’s swaying slightly where he stands. And he looks like shit. He has a fresh black eye marring the same side of his face where his cheek was split a few days ago. Although I don’t see any fresh cuts, he has a few drops of blood on his open and wrinkled button-down shirt that he probably pulled out of a drawer somewhere in the back.
“Are you drunk?” I say between my teeth as I stand up to his level.
“Ah, Cary. No need to worry about that, baby brother. I’m here now. Let’s get this shit started.” He claps me on the shoulder before stepping around me and planting himself in the seat at the end of the table between Ripley and Iris. He turns to Ripley, but points to Iris on his left with his thumb. “You brought me a date? Who’s she?”
“I’m Iris. Cary’s fiancée. It’s so great to finally meet you,” says Iris, radiating that damn perfection. Brooks glances around, and his eyes land on me. He shoots me the biggest shit-eating grin as I lower myself back into my chair.
I don’t know who I’m going to punch first tonight, Ripley for all his fucking smirking or Brooks for what he’s no doubt going to say as the night wears on.
“No shit?” He’s still smiling at me, but it has an edge to it, and I know I’m going to hate the next words out of his mouth. “Ex-girlfriend and fiancée at the same table. This is your worst nightmare, huh?” I fix him with a dead stare as my stomach lurches, and I seriously consider making a run for the bathroom to vomit.
“What?” says Iris, her smile slowly fading and her eyes darting around the table. I’m saved from trying to salvage the moment by Tiffany, who appears as if by magic at our table.
“Hey, Brooks,” she says to my brother with a salacious smile, and then to the table, “How’s everything? Anyone need anything?”
“Can you bring me a double of… anything?” says Thea, rubbing her thumb and index finger on her forehead as though massaging a headache. Then she adds, “I’m going to need more than wine to get through this fucking night,” so quietly I don’t think anyone else but me heard it. Brooks orders a drink as well, and Tiffany slips away.
An uncomfortable silence falls around the table. Thea won’t meet my eyes, Ripley’s smiling and sipping his drink, and Brooksbusies himself with clumsily buttoning up his shirt—the bomb he dropped seemingly forgotten.
I feel Iris’ stare on the side of my face. I can’t bring myself to look at her though. I’m not ready to deal with whatever she has to say right now. I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole, and I could just stop existing.
Minutes tick by at our silent table. Ripley and Brooks are the only ones eating the many appetizers spread before us, and still no one says a word.
“Care,” says Iris after Tiffany drops off the drinks we ordered. “I think I need you to explain.”
Before I even open my mouth, Brooks pipes up again, “Oh, he didn’t tell you? He and Thea go way back. High school sweethearts and all that.”
“I… don’t understand,” says Iris, looking around the table, and then her gaze lands on me. I can’t bring myself to meet her eyes, so I just keep staring at the drink in my hand. I use my fingers to turn the tumbler round and round, watching the whiskey leave legs on the side of the glass. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Oh, it’s probably ‘cause it’s a sore subject for him. She left him in Seattle right as he was about—”
“Brooks!” I cut him off before whatever else he was going to say falls out of his dumb fucking mouth. I glare daggers at him, but he just smiles at me. There’s no humor or warmth in that smile. Brooks is looking for a fight tonight. “Just ignore him. He’s still pissed that our parents didn’t leave RED to him. He needs to move the fuck on and stop moping about it,” I say, speaking to Iris but continuing to look at Brooks.
Brooks laughs humorlessly. “Ineed to move on?” He pauses and just stares at me. “Tell me, brother, should I move on likeyoudid?” When I don’t answer, he continues. “Why don’t you tell Thea the name of your restaurant,” he says.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I sweep my eyes from him to Ripley on his right. His eyes ping-pong around the table from one face to another. He seems to be enjoying this, you’d think he’s watching his favorite sport. All he needs is a bowl of fucking popcorn.
“Oh, but I do,” says Brooks. “I looked you up, baby brother. Tell her.”
“What did you call it?” asks Thea quietly, finally looking at me. The silence at the table stretches on for an impossibly long time.
“It’s called Carina Cove,” supplies Brooks, his smile is all teeth.
“What… what does that mean?” Thea questions.
I can’t find words. Or air. I keep my eyes on Brooks, slowly shaking my head from side to side in disbelief. I thought we had gotten to—not exactly a good place, but at least somewhere we could start rebuilding our relationship. In ten minutes’ time, he’s ruined any chance of that, and I just watched my entire life implode around me.
I finally chance a glance at Iris, and she looks devastated. She studies Thea for a moment and says, “He’s the ex, isn’t he?”
Thea averts her eyes and sucks her lips between her teeth. I guess that’s answer enough for Iris because she slowly nods without a word, picks up her purse, and gracefully makes her way out of the restaurant.
