Page 69 of Fathers of the Bride
“All right. I need to go now. I’ll talk to you soon.” I hung up on Kelly and stared Raj down.
Ignoring my withering look, he said, “I could say you beat me, but then I couldn’t keep you as my manager.”
“You’re not going to tell people I beat you. I could get arrested.”
“Maybe you could have a drug problem? A vacation in rehab might be nice.”
“I could get arrested for that too.”
“You don’t have to actually buy any drugs.”
“No.”
“Sexual addiction?”
“No.”
“Emotional abuse?”
“No.”
“Come on, Andrew, take this seriously. Otherwise, we’ll end up with one of those creepy harmonious uncoupling announcements.”
“We could go with the truth. I was unfaithful. I slept with my husband.”
“No, that isnotgoing on the Internet. I’m not telling the world you left me for a fat old man.”
“He’s gained a few pounds but he’s notfat. And he’s two years younger thanIam.”
“Exactly! It’s illogical.”
I concentrated on putting clothes into my suitcase, rather than standing there talking to my soon-to-be ex next to my still-empty suitcase. I have to admit, having Miles pack for me when we broke up was so much more pleasant.
“And another thing. Miles’ video has gone viral. He’s actually got more hits than—do you think he jumped off the pier deliberately so people would watch his video instead of ours?”
“No, I don’t think that. And he didn’t exactly jump.”
“All right, he fell. It was a very convenient fall. That’s all I’m saying.”
29
Miles Kettering-Lane
That afternoon,I tried to take a nap. Kelly had gone off to the women’s shelter, Avery was still at the bank, and I had a few hours alone. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, and I mean that in the most obscene way imaginable.
Okay, stop. You’ve gone too far. Yes, Andy and I had a good time, but I would have had hours to sleep. I just wasn’t accustomed to having anyone in my bed. Consequently, I didn’t sleep much.
Not that it wasn’t nice having him there. It’s just that even nice things take time to get used to. Thinking about the night before with Andy gave me a cozy feeling and now, finally, I was drifting—
The doorbell rang. Grumbling, I turned on the small TV that sat on my dresser. After Andy left—okay, after I threw him out—I paid a small fortune to a security company to put cameras around and hook them up to my TVs. And then a small fortune to the lawyers when we had to “discuss” the purchase. I switched to the CCTV channel and saw Pudge and Lissa standing at the door with a young Black man.Oh my God,what are they doing here?
“Oh, crap,” I said out loud, staring at the fish-eyed image. The doorbell rang again as I slipped into a pair of jeans and snagged a shirt out of the closet. I buttoned it as I ran down the stairs, incorrectly, so I had to stand at the front door and rebutton it. Ultimately, it was pointless. The shirt was too small, and I looked ridiculous. I was tempted to run back upstairs and pick another. I didn’t though, so—looking like an overstuffed sausage link, a baby-blue overstuffed sausage link—I opened the door just as they rang the doorbell yet again.
“Well, there you are!” said Pudge, pushing by me. Lissa followed in her wake. “It’s about time you answered the door.”
I turned to the young Black guy and said, “Hello.”
“Oh, that’s Jeffery Carter,” Pudge said, unhappily. “We’ve been shackled.”
