Pictures of You (31 page)

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Authors: Juliette Caron

BOOK: Pictures of You
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“He’s
cute
,” she whispered in my direction. “You have a…September, you really have a…?”

             
“Boyfriend,” John finished for her, looking kind of hurt the second the shock wore off. The way he eyed Adrien and me, you’d think
we
were the ones cheating. I had to stifle a petty grin when sheer jealousy molded his face. The moment was priceless and almost worth the pain he caused dumping me, betraying me. John looked especially handsome tonight, all dressed up in nice slacks and an expensive sweater, but I hardly noticed now that Adrien stood next to me.

             
“Well he seems like a fine young man,” my grandma said, licking her lips, eyeing him like a gourmet dessert. I groaned. Grandma was being…Grandma. She’d recently cut her hair. Her steel gray curls were tight against her head now. Her makeup was too bright as usual. She wore florescent blue eye shadow and had fuchsia splotches on her prominent cheekbones.

             
“Adrien, this is my dad, Ed,” I said, gesturing to the serious man who stood perfectly straight. They shook hands. Dad wore his usual stern expression now: tight, searching eyes, mouth a thin straight line across his face.

             
“My mother, Sue.” Mom’s eyes crinkled warmly. She wore an expensive gold suit and pearl earrings, her hair in an elegant bun above the right ear. She seemed
too
happy to have Adrien here, probably already imagining what our babies would look like. I couldn’t resist rolling my eyes when she wasn’t looking.

             
“April,” I continued.

             
“Hi Adrien,” April said in a flirtatious manner. I shot her a warning glance. She smiled guiltily. She stole a boy from me once and I would never let it happen again—even if it meant moving to Saudi Arabia and taking Adrien with me.

             
“Hello, April,” Adrien said politely, holding back an amused grin.

             
“And this is John and my grandmother.”

             
Adrien said, “Nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you all. And congratulations on twenty-five years of marriage,” he added, turning to my parents.

             
“Thank you. And what a pleasant surprise,” Mom said and I knew she was sincere. She was probably relieved I’d finally moved on from John. Maybe her daughters could finally get along.

             
“We’re glad you’re here, Adam,” Dad said.

             
“Adrien,” April corrected, her eyes still fastened on my date. John cleared his throat when he noticed, throwing her a hurt look, waking April from her spell.

             
After Mom informed us dinner was ready, we all took a seat at the long cherry wood table in the dining room. It had also been redecorated, adopting all the latest
House Beautiful
trends. The new color scheme, “dusty gold”, “brick red” and “swimming pool aqua”, (these were the actual names of the paint colors—Mom had called me up awhile ago asking for color combination advice) gave the room a more modern feel.  A massive variety of food crowded the long table: Chipotle grilled filets with mango salsa, gazpacho soup, San Francisco-style sour dough bread, spinach quiche, asparagus and three different salads. Mom always got carried away in every endeavor—she was a perfectionist.

             
“So what do you do?” Dad asked Adrien. “Are you a student?”

             
“The food smells great,” Adrien said. Mom mouthed a thank you before he continued. “I’m a writer.” Good answer, I thought, relieved. My snobby parents would be less than impressed if they knew Adrien sold used cars.
Used
to sell cars.

             
“Oh? What do you write?” Dad asked, unfolding his cloth napkin and laying it in his lap.

             
“Novels and short stories. Fiction.”

             
“Would I recognize any of them?” Dad inquired, reaching for the asparagus.

             
Adrien smiled timidly. “Probably not,” he said, buttering his slice of bread. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping he wouldn’t confess he hadn’t yet been published. That would not go over too well in my family. Respect was won with success. Financial stability and a good name in the community mattered more than friendship and true happiness.

             
“Where did the two of you meet?” Mom asked, sipping wine from a crystal glass.

             
We answered at once. I said, “Anderson Art and Frame.” Adrien said, “Tim’s Coffee.”

             
Blushing now, I cleared my throat. “Adrien was a customer at Anderson Art and Frame.

That’s when we first
saw
each other. We formally introduced ourselves at Tim’s Coffee.”

             
“How long have you been dating?” John asked, watching my face so intently, it made me squirm like a worm in my seat.

             
“Two weeks,” Adrien answered before I could. The red in my cheeks intensified.

             
“That’s not very long,” April said between bites of salad, looking skeptical.

             
Adrien squeezed my hand under the table before saying, “We feel like we’ve known each other forever. It didn’t take long for me to fall in love with September. She’s amazing.”

             
April scowled, nearly dropping her fork, drawing everyone’s attention to herself when the metal clanked against the ceramic plate. John frowned as he played with pomegranate seeds on his plate.

             
As I savored the gazpacho soup, I realized I couldn’t feel happier. This was turning out so much better than I’d ever hoped. For weeks I’d dreaded this night. The smug looks I imagined on John and April’s faces, not to mention the twenty questions Mom would’ve asked to make sure I was doing okay. Now
I
was the one feeling smug. I couldn’t help myself.

             
But then, much to my horror, dad turned to Adrien and asked, “What are your intentions with my daughter?”

             
“Dad,” I protested, mortified. John chuckled, probably remembering the time he was the one being asked the question. Adrien cleared his throat, shifting in his chair. My father had a way of making April’s and my dates uncomfortable. But boys who proclaimed openly their love for Ed’s daughters would meet a more severe interrogation.

             
“Like I mentioned, I love September. We haven’t known each other for long, but I want to spend as much time with her as she’ll allow me to. I’m here for as long as she wants me.”

             
“That’s so romantic,” my mother said, clasping her hands together. She looked intently at Adrien, then me, then back at Adrien. The way she was studying at us—like we were protozoa under a microscope—kind of gave me the creeps.

             
Adrien turned to me, smiling. “I think your mom is visualizing future grandchildren,” he whispered into my ear.

             
I mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

             
“Not a big deal,” he whispered back, squeezing my hand again. Then he turned to my mother. “Do you mind if I use the bathroom?”

             
“No, of course not. It’s down that hall, second room on the right.”

             
“Thank you,” he said, standing up, wiping the corners of his mouth before leaving the table. Everyone watched him leave before attacking me with questions.

             
“What does his father do?”

             
“Does he go to school?”

             
“Are you in love with him, Tem-Tem?”

             
Flustered, I sat my spoon down and said, “Slow down. One question at a time.”

             
Just as my father opened his mouth to repeat his question, the doorbell rang, making me jump in my seat.

             
“Who could that be?” Mom asked, getting up before my dad could. She discreetly checked her hair and makeup in the mirror in the front room before answering the door. Everyone sat in silence, straining to hear the mysterious voice in the other room.

             
When Chris entered the room, I almost fell out of my chair. A hundred questions surfaced at once, beginning with:
What is
he
doing here?
It only took about five seconds for me to figure it out and then,
Oh no, oh no, oh no! What have I done?

             
Chris, who looked unusually sharp in a dark gray suit, his ponytail slicked back neatly,

smiled hugely
, like a kid bringing home a 4.0 report card. If I wasn’t gawking at him, I probably wouldn’t have caught the subtle wink he threw at me.             

             
“Who’s this?” My father whispered to my mother. She shrugged, taking her seat.

             
“Chris?” I said. What are you…?”

             
“Hello, everyone. I’m Chris, September’s boyfriend,” he said, resting his hands on my shoulders. “It’s nice to finally meet all of you.” I squeezed my eyes shut—mortified.

             
I turned around in my seat and whispered, “Chris, I have to—”

             
“What’s going on?” April and Grandma asked simultaneously.

             
“Nice to meet you, Chris,” my father said politely, his usually tight mouth slack, an eyebrow raised.

             
Chris took Adrien’s spot at the table and pressed his lips to my ear, whispering, “I broke up with Megan. I hope I’m not too late.”

             
What he did next probably startled me more than anyone. With rough hands, he cupped my face and before I could protest, covered my mouth with his. He kissed me ardently, surprising me with his passion, stealing my breath away. Months of frustration and unexpressed desire were manifested in the kiss. For a short moment, I forgot where and who I was and kissed him back.

             
My father cleared his throat and the spell was broken and Chris finally pulled away.

             
“Can someone
please
tell me what’s going on?” April said, toying with her diamond necklace, laughing nervously. I couldn’t help but glance at John, whose face froze in astonishment.

             
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw next. Adrien standing in the entryway—shock, hurt and anger scribbled all over his face.

             
“Adrien,” I said, my heart galloping, my cheeks burning. What have I done? How much did he see? All of it? “Adrien, I…” He shook his head in disgust and turned to go. “Wait, let me explain.”

             
“No, I think I got it,” he said, his eyes throwing darts into my heart.

             
“Wait, you’re Adrien?” Chris said, standing up, knocking over a glass of water. Mom stood and began dabbing it with her cloth napkin. Adrien stopped mid-step and turned around. “You’re the jerk who’s breaking September’s heart?”

             
“And who are you?” Adrien asked, appearing confused.

             
“I’m the one who
really
loves September.” Chris threw down his napkin and took several steps in Adrien’s direction. Adrien stiffened. His face was stony. It was strange, seeing this side of the two boys I loved. Both were typically so gentle and kind. Even docile. It was like seeing a trusted pet attack, suddenly and out of nowhere.

             
The room hummed with soft murmurs. Water streamed across the gold tablecloth. Some of it dribbled onto my lap.

             
Chris continued, “I’m the one who’s
man
enough to stick around.”

             
Adrien laughed. “So you love her, too? Wait, are you Chris?” He’d put two and two together. “Ah. I’ve heard a lot about you. You might find it useful to know that I won—September picked me.”

             
Chris shook his head, repulsed. “If anyone deserves a girl like September, it sure as hell isn’t you,” he said, his fists balling up. “You have no idea what you’ve put her through these past couple of weeks. No idea. You’re a—you’re a selfish coward.”

             
“No, Chris!” I squawked. I watched in horror as Chris took a swing at Adrien’s face, knocking him into the antique china cabinet. I heard a chorus of gasps and John laughing, apparently amused by two guys literally fighting over me.

             
Adrien, defeated, laughed a humorless laugh. “I deserved that…You’re right,” he said, speaking to Chris, cradling his cheekbone. “You’re so right. I’m sorry, September.” His gaze rested on me, sadness in his eyes. “I really shouldn’t be here.”

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