Page 51 of The New Year's Party
“Dear Rebecca...” It’s Will’s voice, but it moves into an indistinct murmur as he reads what seems to be a letter. “What?”
“I know.” Bunny snatches the letter back. “That’s whatIsaid. So, William. You’re the only person I told about my decision. Explain.”
Oooh, this is pretty interesting. I don’t want to make any noise, so I keep holding my belt.
“Bunny, I—I didn’t tell him about your abortion. I don’t even know your grandpa! Why would I go behind your back like that?”
“What about Nathan? Did you tell him? Be honest, Will. This was my inheritance, this was my future, myeverything, and it’s gone, but I deserve to know—”
“No—I would never tell—”
“Thenhow,Will?” Her voice is loud, angry. “How the fuck did he find out?”
Mmmm. I get a shivery feeling up my spine, and it’s not just the slightly sexy violence in Bunny’s tone. I used to love a good, satisfying mystery. I’m pretty sure that between third and fourth grade, I read everyEncyclopedia Brownbook in existence.
“I mean... did anyone see you at the clinic?” Will says. “Maybe someone who knew your grandpa?”
“I barely knew anyone in Nashville! I’d just moved there!”
They argue back and forth for a while in a pointless, stupid kind of way.
Ugh—the pieces to this little “puzzle” aren’t that complicated to fit together. Just like the plate problem on the picnic table—so simple—though it was amusing to watch people struggle. If Will didn’t tell, who might have overheard him, or seen a text on his phone?Nothard, people.Nothard. People are so dumb.
It can be fun to watch them struggle, but this time, shock value will be more fun. They’re only about fifteen feet away, but I project my voice because there’s nothing more annoying than a mumbler.
“Have you considered your wife, Will?”
Bunny yelps and Will makes a sharp intake of breath. Another plate explodes in the distance.
“You do live with her, right?” I say. Fuck it, I’ll even spell it out for him. “Could she have overheard your so-called private conversations? Seen some texts, perhaps?”
“Ted?” Will finally says, peering toward me.
“Don’t mind me. Just taking a piss.” At this moment, I do actually pull out my dick and start pissing. I pity them, if I’m honest, and I’m always honest—Will, Bunny, Nathan and his refusal to accept how the fire happened—all of them. They can’t see what’s in front of them without a classic deus ex machina. I suppose this makes me the deus.
And just like your average, classic Bible story, even when deus speaks, the humans... well, they just don’t listen.
“Why would Jenndosomething like that?” says Bunny. “Ibarely know her, except for a few parties we were both at!”
“She seems to enjoy destroying things,” I observe, and I don’t just mean Phelps’s restaurant. The year I spent in prison after getting dragged away from her house... wasn’t my favorite. “And youdidknow her, Bunny. When you were both younger. She also knew your grandfather. Mr. Max. The Junior Lights?”
Bunny and Will are both silent for a minute.
“Or maybe it was you, asshole,” Bunny launches back. “You knew Grandpa Max too. Thanks for reminding me.”
“Sure, it could have been,” I say easily. “However, I stopped going to church, youth group included, when I was in eighth grade. Pretty sure Jenn went there all the way up until college. I’m also on the left. Very pro-choice. However, Christians seem to care very much about the unborn. Right?”
Neither answers.
But I’m not interested in their problem anymore—too simple. It was Jenn. End of story. Now that the puzzle-lovingsegment of my brain has been activated, what I find myself suddenly interested in is Allie.
Up until a few minutes ago, I honestly didn’t give her much thought. I figured she was just into older single dads with culinary expertise.
Now I’m trying to figure out how someone with the strong, slightly ragey feminist feelings Allie exhibited would come and, for no particular reason, clean the house of a paunchy dad who’s ten years older than her and lives next to acornfield. She hates the women-cleaning-up-men’s-messes thing. So why wipe down Phelps’s nasty-ass toilets? What doessheget out of it?
I’m thinking we might be in sexual-kink territory, but... the night is too early to come to any hasty conclusions.
Could be a fun challenge to figure her out. Could help pass the time.
