Chapter 75 Glance 2

The choices were chicken breast or a T-bone steak. Everyone had a plate but me. Finally, a lone dish came trailing out. It was cold pasta with sun-dried tomatoes. Lisa had remembered my fear of bones. I hadn’t eaten meat since I cut the top of my middle finger off when I was twelve. Now every time I saw a bone I felt sick. If the pasta had been served when it was made a week ago, I might have managed to choke it down, but it was inedible. I arranged my tomatoes in the middle with the dry lifeless noodles around them. A waiter stopped in front of me to take my plate. He saw what I’d done. “I’m artistic,” I said. He whisked it away. I was starving, and I was buzzed from the second glass of champagne. A little thought danced in the back of my head. What had Lisa said about a dessert? She had chosen a lovely mousse. Of course, it had to be chocolate. They brought it out. Why was my chocolate mousse pink? It was strawberry. It was like ordering a diet cola and getting a fully leaded one. I couldn’t eat it. Nibbling on the vanilla wafer on top, I watched my sister. She was having the time of her life, and I needed a cigarette like a vampire needed blood. Excusing myself, I found a side door near the kitchen. The fresh air was liberating, and the familiar click of my lighter was like a kitten getting its mother’s milk. I inhaled deeply and looked around. There was another waiter having a cigarette like me. I thought he wasn’t bad looking in a swarthy, Greek sort of way. I liked the cut of his crisp white cotton shirt and the sleekness of his black pants. “I bet you’re having a better time than I am,” I said. He smiled and came over to me. “You must be having an awful time if that is true,” he said. I paused, thinking about it. “It is true. I’m having an awful time.” “Why don’t you go home?” he asked. I laughed. “Easier said than done,” I said. “Have you ever been at a family event where you feel lonelier than you do alone?” He shook his head. “Your family seems nice,” he said. “So it seems. The photo op bride is my sister. I’m the proverbial bad seed, who writes smut and has to go live with her because I can’t support myself.” I looked closer at him. “I should be a waiter,” I said. “Because I’m always waiting for something to happen.” “You write smut?” “You were listening,” I said. “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked. “Because I’m a slightly drunk guest prattling on about her personal problems,” I said. There was a pause. It didn’t feel like a bad one, just interesting. “You are easy to talk to,” I said. “The smut?” he asked. “I write for one-hand glossy whack-off mags. You know, the kind you get in party stores behind the counter. Are you shocked?” I looked into his eyes to see the surprise. I didn’t see any. “No,” he said. “Someone has to write them. Why not someone as pretty and sexy as you?” “You think I’m sexy,” I said. I looked him up and down, feeling frisky. “Are you on break?” I asked. I guess I was horny, because one moment we were standing there, innocently smoking our cigarettes, and the next moment, we were behind the building, doing it in the shrubs. We were standing up like a couple of horny kids, who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. I came so loudly that he had to clap his hand over my mouth to keep me from being heard. As we straightened our clothes, I gave him a sly smile. “I’ve had a one-night stand before, but I wasn’t actually standing,” I said. He smiled back and gave me his phone number. His name was Dominic. Feeling flushed and happy, I turned. I should go before anything ruined this mood. I found my sister in a cluster of bridesmaids. Jeremy was standing nearby with two glasses of champagne. “I’m here to tell Lisa I’m leaving,” I said to him. He looked at me. “You have the most amazing glow,” he said. “I just had sex with a waiter outside,” I blurted out. Shock paralyzed his face. Oops. Had I actually said that? I panicked. “Don’t tell Lisa,” I said. Without saying good-bye to her, I left the hall. I felt weird, appalled and tramp-like. It was amazing what three glasses of champagne and a lack of food could do to my reasoning. I needed food soon. On the way to the hotel, I stopped at a grimy little grocery store, the kind Lisa would hate on sight, and I bought bananas, peanut butter and sprinkles. She had made me a reservation for the night at a motel, the kind that felt like a prison cell inside. Hardly any cars were there. I grabbed a box of my clothes and checked in. I decided to take a bath, because I didn’t have the energy to stand in the shower. Normally, I hated baths, especially shaving in them. There was something about those little hairs floating in the water. It gave me the creeps, but tonight, I soaked, eating my bananas dunked in the peanut butter and topped with sprinkles. In the morning, I woke to find myself sprawled naked on the bed with a huge stomach ache, no doubt from the bananas.