If You Lived Here, You'd Be Home Now (30 page)

“It’s always a good idea.” It was certainly
my
plan for that evening.

I realized as I walked into the school with my parents that I had never been to an adults-only fund-raiser at Fenwick before.
Mom hadn’t ever insisted that I go, the way she always did with the Autumn Festival, and it wasn’t like I had friends at the
school I wanted to spend time partying with, so I’d always chosen to skip them before. So this was all new to me.

The gym had been taken over by gambling tables: roulette, blackjack, poker, and some games I didn’t recognize. The party committee
had hired croupiers and dealers to man all
the tables, and between them and the large number of servers walking around with trays of drinks and the lights that were
strung up all over the place, it really did feel like we’d walked into some noisy, crowded Las Vegas casino. There was nothing
gym-like about the room at all anymore, unless you noticed the bleachers that had been folded up and pushed into their storage
space at the back wall.

“I don’t think I know anybody here,” I said as we entered and looked around.

“Me neither,” said my father.

My mother sighed. “I know
everybody
.” A waiter approached us with a tray of drinks. My parents took glasses of sparkling wine. I took a martini. “Those are strong,”
my mother said, eyeing my choice. “Pace yourself.”

I shrugged and took as big a sip as I could without making myself cough.

My mother shook her head but only said, “I should mingle.”

“I think I’ll try my hand at poker,” Dad said.

“I’ll go get chips with you.” I hooked my arm in his and we started to walk off.

My mother caught at my free arm. “Rickie—”

I halted, bracing myself for some kind of warning or complaint.

“It’s killing me not saying anything. You look absolutely beautiful tonight. So beautiful…” She looked at my dad and laughed.
“I don’t know how it’s genetically possible for the two of us to have produced her.”

“Well, you never know how the genes will mesh,” Dad said.

“You waited until I couldn’t change to compliment me, didn’t you?” I said to Mom.

“Can you blame me?”

“I guess not.” But I smiled and so did she.

* * *

I spotted Melanie right after I left Dad happily settled at a poker game: she and Gabriel were standing side by side, watching
the roulette wheel spin, their shoulders lightly touching. They both turned when I called her name, and Gabriel caught me
to his chest in a big hug. Over his shoulder I mouthed at Mel, “How’s it going?” She gave me a noncommittal shrug but she
looked happy, so it couldn’t have been going too badly.

Gabriel released me, and I said, “How beautiful does Mel look tonight?”

“She leaves me weak in the knees,” he said solemnly.

“Oh, be quiet, both of you,” Melanie said, blushing. “What do you think of the food so far, Rickie?”

“So far I like the martinis,” I said. “Haven’t had a bite of food. Is there any?”

“I’ve only seen a couple of trays go by. Do you think we need to say something to the caterers?”

“I’d check with Tanya first. Have you seen her?”

“Yeah, she’s here somewhere.” She turned to Gabriel. “Do you mind if I go with Rickie for a second?”

“So long as you come back…” He touched her bare arm tentatively and she shivered slightly.

“Come on,” she said to me, and we moved off.

“Well?” I said meaningfully as soon as we were far enough away.

She shook her head a little frantically. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.”

I plucked a martini off of a passing tray and handed it to her. I had finished mine already. “Have one of these.”

“You’re like a devil on my shoulder. Especially in that red dress.” But she took a sip of the drink. “Oh, there’s Tanya! But
she’s leaving.”

Tanya was walking out of the gym. “Maybe she’s just going to the bathroom,” I said.

We threaded our way across the crowded room and out the door and found Tanya inside the girls’ PE locker room, which was serving
as the official party restroom. She was putting on lipstick in front of the mirror. In a column-like dark blue dress and high-heeled
black shoes, she looked dressed up but still businesslike, like a lawyer at a company function.

She spotted our reflections in the mirror. “There you are,” she said glumly. “It’s all a disaster, isn’t it?” She dropped
her lipstick into her clutch purse and closed it with a snap.

“What is?” Melanie asked anxiously.

“The food, of course. There isn’t enough. Everyone’s talking about it. It’s ruining the whole event.”

“No one seems unhappy in there,” I said. “I’m sure it’s all fine.”

She shot my reflection a look of pure contempt. “Someone has to deal with this, but I can’t do
everything
.”

“We’ll take care of it,” Melanie said. “You just relax and have fun.”

She pivoted around to face us. “
Relax?
Do you know how much I’m in charge of here? No one understands how much work something like this takes. I’ve been here since
four this afternoon, setting up. There was a whole thing with the napkins—” She flung out her hand like words couldn’t even
begin to express the horror of the napkin situation.

“We’ll talk to the caterer right now,” Melanie said. “Please don’t worry about it anymore.”

“I’m the one everyone blames when things go wrong,” Tanya said. “How can I not worry?”

Melanie didn’t bother responding to that, just quickly said good-bye and tugged me out of the bathroom. She led us outside
and across the field toward where the caterers’ trucks and grills were set up.

“Why does she do it?” I asked as we made our way along the track.

“What do you mean?”

“If it’s such a burden to her to run everything, why does she do it? It’s not like anyone’s forcing her. She volunteers for
this stuff.”

“Maybe it makes her feel needed,” Melanie said. “And she really is helping the school. Someone needs to do it.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “If everyone just said no, what’s the worst that would happen? I mean, people would still give money
to the school, right? They just wouldn’t have to show up to things like this. Is that so awful?”

“I should really be volunteering more,” Mel said. Her thoughts had clearly run in a different direction from mine.

Out behind one of the trucks we located the plump, bleached-blond guy who ran Crackerjack Catering. He shook his head irritably
when we voiced our concerns. “You said you wanted the food hot and fresh, so we’re rolling it out gradually. If you’d wanted
a ton of food right at the beginning, you should have made that clear.”

“We just want to make sure there’ll be enough,” Mel said timidly.

“There will be more than enough food,” he said tightly, “if you’ll all just leave me alone so I can get on with it.”

We quickly scuttled away. “To be fair,” said Melanie, who always was, “he’s under a lot of pressure right now.”

“You know what?” I said as we headed back into the gym,
“let’s stop worrying about the stupid catering and have some fun.”

“Yeah,” Melanie said. You could already see her scanning the room, looking for Gabriel. “Let’s.” She spotted him. “There he
is. Come join us, Rickie.”

I shook my head. “You guys should have time alone together tonight.”

“I feel bad you don’t have anyone to be with.”

“I have Mom and Dad! What’s more fun than partying with your parents?”

“Seriously.” She studied me for a moment, hesitating, like something was on her mind. “Rickie—”

“Still standing right next to you,” I said helpfully.

“It’s just…” Another pause then a deep breath. “Okay. I have to say this, whether you want to hear it or not. I love Ryan.
You know I do. He’s a great guy. But he isn’t exactly dependable when it comes to relationships.”

“Whoa,” I said. “What are you talking about, Mel? Why are you bringing up Ryan?”

She just looked at me.

“Why would you think that I care one way or the other about your brother-in-law?” I tried to sound genuinely mystified, but
the words came out too strained.

“He told Gabriel a while ago that you and he get together when he’s in town. And Gabriel told me. But I didn’t feel I had
the right to bring it up when you seemed to want to keep it a secret.”

“It wasn’t much of a secret if you guys were talking about it,” I said, feeling both embarrassed and annoyed. All those times
I thought we were being so sly—and they were just pretending not to notice. “I wish you’d told me you knew.”

“You have a right to your privacy. That’s why I’ve never said
anything before. But seeing you alone here tonight… I have to tell you that I don’t think Ryan, as wonderful as he is, will
ever come through for you. He’s not worth waiting for.”

“I know,” I said. “I swear to God I know that, Mel. And I’m not ‘waiting’ for him—we just have fun when he’s around. It’s
no big deal.”

She looked dubious. “Sometimes a bad relationship can keep you from finding a good one.”

“Thanks, Dr. Phil,” I said. “Now that you’ve proven yourself so knowledgeable about romance, why don’t you go back to the
guy you can’t decide whether you love or hate? And maybe stop talking about me behind my back while you’re at it?”

“That’s not what we were doing.”

“Oh, right. You were respecting my privacy. Just don’t ever respect my privacy like that again, okay?” I turned her around
by the shoulders and shoved her gently in Gabriel’s direction. “Go.” I watched her walk across the room and then made my way
wearily toward the bar.

One more martini later and I felt like I was in some Italian movie from the seventies. Unknown people passed by in a blur,
with an occasional random, familiar face thrown into sudden sharp focus. From a dreamlike distance I glimpsed my mother talking
to Dr. Wilson, my father throwing down a hand in disgust at the poker table, Gabriel walking with his arm tight around Melanie
like it belonged there, Maria Dellaventura winking at me tipsily….

And then there was Coach Andrew passing by, laughing, wearing a tuxedo as comfortably as if he were James Freaking Bond himself.
Gracie was hanging on to his arm, striking in some long, tight, gray dress that made her look as tall and
willowy and graceful as a tall, graceful willow. I tried to sidle by them unnoticed and had almost succeeded when Andrew stopped
and looked back at me.

“Noah’s mom? Is that you?”

I halted.

“You look”—was it my imagination or did he dart a glance at Gracie before finishing the thought?—“different.”

Gracie held out her hand. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Gracie.”

“I’m Rickie,” I said as we touched hands in a mutually unenthusiastic not-quite-handshake.

“I’m Andrew’s girlfriend,” she said.

“Yes,” I said. “I know. We’ve met a couple of times.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She didn’t look sorry.

“You both look very Casino Nighty,” I said. It hurt to look at Andrew. His wavy hair was brushed and almost neat, and the
monkey suit made him look taller. I suddenly really didn’t want to stand there talking to them. “Excuse me,” I said abruptly.
“I have to find someone.” I ran away.

“Be careful,” Maria Dellaventura said, coming up next to me at the bar just as the bartender was handing me another martini.
“Those things are strong.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“Are you kidding? I’m on my third. The best part is that people are so drunk they’re bidding like crazy on the silent auction
stuff. It’s good for the school, right?” She signaled the bartender, then leaned against the bar and scrutinized me. “You
look fantastic, Rickie.”

“Aw, shucks.”

“I’m serious. I hate you for being so young. Your skin is like fucking milk.” The bartender handed her a filled glass and
we moved aside. “So tell me, who’s the guy with your sister?
The one who looks like Santa minus the beard and white hair?”

“That would be the ex-husband,” I said and braced myself for the attack.

Apparently alcohol had a mellowing effect on Maria. She just shrugged and sipped her martini. “That wasn’t how I pictured
him.”

“Fatter than you expected?”

“He looks
nice
.”

“He is nice.” Having had two martinis, I added, “Too nice to say no to anyone who wants to have sex with him.”

“I’m not sure that counts as being nice. Not when you’re—” She interrupted herself. “Oh my god! Look who’s here!” She nudged
my arm and gestured with her glass across the room.

Marley Addison had just entered the gym on the arm of her husband, the not-quite-so-famous-but-still-recognizable movie star
James Foster. Despite the fact that people were very carefully
not
staring at them, the change in the energy of the room was remarkable: suddenly everyone was standing a little more erect,
voices were a little louder and more enthusiastic, smiles were more animated and heads were tossing like crazy. The party
had come alive. It
mattered
.

“A little underdressed, isn’t she?” I said. Marley was wearing black pants and a simple linen top. Her body was birdlike,
tiny and very thin, and the narrowness of her shoulders made her head look enormous. She was stunningly beautiful on the screen,
but in real life she was a little out of proportion.

“
She’s
underdressed? Look at him.”

Maria was right: James looked like he was dressed for dinner at home in torn jeans and a stretched-out green pullover sweater.
His goal may have been to keep a low profile, but his clothes actually made him stand out among all the tuxedoed
men around him. Then again, maybe that was his goal. No matter what, the guy was gorgeous. No proportion problems with him:
his head and shoulders were perfect.

“He can wear whatever he likes, as far as I’m concerned,” I said dreamily.

“He’s a good-looking guy,” Maria agreed. “Hey, want to place bets on how long they stay at the party? I’ll bet you ten bucks
it’s less than an hour.”

“Nah, you’d win.”

“Look at them,” Maria said. “I wonder what it’s like to be that famous.”