Page 21 of Goodbye Again
“This is actually real tan. I spent a lot of time in the sunshine while I was in Mexico last month for spring break,” I offer, inadvertently defending myself.
“Oh, right. Your solo trip. Did you find yourself while you were gone?” she mocks with a laugh.
“I actually researched for my dissertation on the beach,” I say in hopes that it will remind her I’ve been working and studying until I’m bone-tired.
She makes no comment and instead says, “Well, don’t spend too much time in the sun.” She taps her index finger against her crow’s feet. “Everything goes downhill after thirty.”
I open my mouth to object—or rather, to tell her to fuck off, but Emily touches my elbow. It’s a gestured warning that says,I know, I’m sorry, but please keep the peace.
“Mom, did the caterers put out the desserts yet?” Emily asks.
“No, I thought you wanted to wait. Why? Do you have a craving? I’m sure I can get you something to satisfy that. Chocolatey or fruity?” Mom turns to me. “It is such a big deal to be pregnant!”
I force a close-lipped smile because if I unzipper these lips I will hurl something sarcastic at her.
“Oh, I just wanted to make sure we had space for Brenda to put out her cookies,” Emily says.
Mom’s spine stiffens, and I grin.
“Right,” she says, contrite.
As she turns to head back inside, Brenda pops her head out of the French doors.
“Speak of the devil,” I say. “Hi, Brenda. It’s so good to see you!”
She squeals as she wraps her arms around me and says, “Oh, Julia, you look so pretty in that yellow dress. Just beautiful.” She lets out a breath and a smile, admiring me, then her eyes shift to Emily, and she takes her in an embrace. “How’s my daughter-in-law and first grandbaby?”
“Good!” Emily answers, her smile beckoning high heaven.
I glance at my mother as she rolls her eyes. “Brenda, can I help you with the cookies? I’ve been looking forward to them since I heard you were making your mother’s special recipe.”
“Oh, well, I made six dozen! Which is probably too many but I got these cute little to-go boxes from the Dollar Store so guests can take some home,” Brenda says as her husband, Ed, files out of the house holding three large Tupperware containers stacked on top of each other.
“Hi, Ed. How have you been?” I ask.
“You know, still living,” he hoots. He’s only sixty with barely any gray hair and a deep baritone voice that is as friendly as it can be startling.
“Glad to hear it. Here, let me help you with the cookies.” I smile and guide him back into my mother’s gigantic home.
Brenda stays outside to chat with Emily and our mother. As I sneak a glance over my shoulder, I’m certain I’ve never seen anyone get so irritated over nothing as my mother.
After helping lay out the cookies on the dessert table—bow cutouts with blue and pink frosting—I grab three for myself, plopping one in my mouth and double-fisting the other two, and make my way out to the backyard.
Guests are now arriving, and it’s a hodgepodge of people I know and the other half are vaguely familiar. I keep to myselfeating cookies and expensive cheeses from the charcuterie spread. Soft music hums in the backyard, and everyone is dressed in shades of summer. I look out on the sun cresting over the tree line bordering the opposite side of the lake, sending a soft shimmer over the water.
I soak in the beauty of all of it while wondering, all this for a gender reveal party? Not even a shower. Or a birthday. We’re all just here to discover whether or not the sonographer found a hang-down on the baby or not.
Emily wanted a BBQ, but this soiree has my mother written all over it.
A caterer offers me a glass of champagne and informs me the reveal is going to be happening in twenty minutes. I smile and say thank you, then turn from the white tables and chairs filled with people I barely know when I catch JP’s gaze. We hold it for a moment, our smiles mirroring each other’s. He’s chatting with Reid, Austin’s other roommate from college whom I met previously, but it’s clear he isn’t paying attention. Merely the expression in JP’s eyes makes me a little weak and achy in places I haven’t been touched in months. I feign control, smiling and nodding, before turning to look back out at the water.
“Lakes are so underrated,” his voice says next to me moments later.
“I thought we don’t know each other,” I say, propping my elbow on my other wrist while the glass of champagne dangles from my hand.
“We don’t,” he says, holding out his hand. “I’m JP.”
I take his hand, reeling in my smile the best I can. “Julia. Emily’s sister.”
