Page 8 of Until Now
“Let your dog loose, and we will save you two some seats,” November says.
As I unhook the lead on Cali’s leash, I can feel her excitement. Here we go.
“Don’t get in the planters, girl,” I call to the backside of my dog. She’s off and running toward the pack as we head for the buffet.
“Hungry?” I ask Hunter.
A non-verbal response is all I get. One nod. That will have to do for now. Guess I should get in the pool with him after we eat. I scan the yard looking for Dominique. She won’t be hard to spot. The rockin’ body she attempted to camouflage with a boxy lab coat and high-necked blouse didn’t stand a chance. I saw it all. What I hope to see today is a bikini that confirms my suspicions. And how long is the hair? She had it coiled into a tight knot. I didn’t mind it; her neck is beautiful. The skin, soft-looking and tempting to imagine feeling.
But I don’t see her, so I check out the women with kids. Don’t know if the son is three or thirteen. I’d guess she’s in her early thirties. Does she think a guy my age is too old for her?
Shit. Forty isn’t old. And I’m not trying to marry the girl. I just want to make a friend. That thought checks itself immediately and says I’m really trying to get in her pants. But without hesitation, my subconscious weighs in.That is not entirely true. There’s something special about this one, and you felt it.
The food is laid out like a Southern feast. The table heavy with choices that make my mouth water. I haven’t seen half these dishes in a long time. There’s a different vibe in California. It’s more hamburgers and hotdogs there. More sushi and tacos. It’s the food I grew up with, but not the one I prefer. This spread is more to my tastes. I got accustomed to it when I lived in Tennessee with Donna. Didn’t realize I missed the food so much but looking at it confirms it’s true.
We load our plates and make our way to the tables along the back edge of the pool, where Wes has corralled two chairs next to where he sits with some friends. I recognize a few of the guys from the Club.
Across the yard, July steps into the pool and sits on the steps. She holds the baby Wes had when we walked in. It must be theirs. A sunbonnet on a diapered baby is fucking cute, drawing other women’s attention immediately. They paddle to the child and coo their greetings.
The kid has the floor, or in this case, the lap. This whole thing could have never happened—the scene erased by a tragedy that almost took away this happy family. A stable marriage, the baby, and the two boys having never been born. All the lives affected by one man’s evil intentions. A shiver runs down my spine.
