I am suddenly full of a remorse so deep and wordless from my frolic on the washing machine I feel like a little kid caught sneaking cookies from the baking tray. Instead of basking in the afterglow of my orgasm, I feel bereft and astonishingly… guilty. Richard is watching me, waiting, holding the door. I make a pretense of adjusting my shirt, running my fingers through my hair, hoping he'll just leave. Me. Alone. I realize, then, he has no intention of walking out of here without me on display. It's becoming clear I am a conquest here. I am someone to be seen with. And someone is supposed to see us.
I walk stiffly around Richard without touching him. He attempts to take my arm again, but I'm having none of it. I head straight for the kitchen to grab another beer and I feel him close behind, breathing down my neck. So far no one seems to have noticed us. Shit. I literally bump into Kathy, who's attempting to carve up a massive cake into a 547 pieces for her guests. She startles, looks up, sees everything.
"Gee, Olivia. I guess you took my advice," she licks blue icing off her finger, gives me a knowing, guarded look. "Hey, Richard."
"Kathy," Richard says with a big shit-eating grin on his face. How the hell did I ever think he resembled Elliot, even one iota? I must have been drunker than I thought. "Look who I ran into."
"Yes, I see," she gives me one last long look before returning to her oh-so-important cake duty. For an instant I feel like pushing her face down into the frothy surface but I control myself, admirably. "You missed the song," she says.
"I guess they found better things to do," Elliot says, stepping up beside me. He's staring at Richard like he's something smeared on the bottom of his shoe. "I see you've shown up for cake, though. You must be…hungry."
"I have worked up a bit of an appetite, now that you mention it. And, you know me. Could never pass up Kathy's baking," Richard says, still with that big, stupid smile on his face. Kathy and I watch this strange exchange but I dare not look her way. I sense she's enjoying it much more than I am. Me head is starting to hurt and more than anything I would like to be home, in my bed, alone.
"Yeah, I do seem to remember that little fact about you," Elliot leans over, picks up a paper plate with a slice of cake on it and hands it to Richard. "Here you go. And there's plenty more where that came from."
He finally turns to me. "How 'bout you, Liv? You hungry, too?"
I don't want to play this game and I shoot him a look that plainly tells him so. He either doesn't get it, or doesn't want to get it. Either way I could happily sock him right now.
"No, thanks. I think I'm gonna head, actually." I need to find my coat and I can't remember where it is. Kathy is watching me with a tiny smile playing around her lips – it's the happiest I've seen her all night. She keeps cutting cake and calmly putting it on plates, watching the show play out in front of her.
"So soon? Seems like you just got here," Elliot says, his voice cold, his eyes blue lasers.
"I'll walk you out," Richard volunteers, shoving cake in his mouth. My stomach turns queasily and I'm feeling woozy again. I just to get the hell out of this twisted family reunion.
"No thank you," I say testily.
"I don't mind…seeing as we're such special… friends now."
The party whirls and rages on around us as the glass dome descends, blocking out all sound but Elliot's heavy breaths. I can actually see a vein bulging in his neck. Kathy raises an eyebrow, but doesn't seem particularly concerned about her husband's near apoplectic state.
"Really?" he says quietly. "You and… him, huh Liv?"
"Elliot…" I wonder why I feel the need to explain myself to this man, with his wife standing right here, listening to every word, every nuance.
"Did Richard happen to mention he was also Kathy's special friend once?"
"Elliot," Kathy says in that tone wives reserve for their wayward husbands. She is warning him to stop, but I want to warn her it's not going to work. I have seen him go after perps in this mood and nothing short of a tank is going to halt him now.
"Well, we really didn't do much talking, if you know what I mean."
I've had just about enough, but I seem unable to move my legs. We form an awkward tableaux, the four of us, rooted around the kitchen island littered with empty glasses and bottles and the damn festive birthday cake.
I can feel the mad coming off Elliot in hot waves. His hands are gripping the edge of the counter with white knuckles.
"Not sure that I do," he seethes.
"Honey, just let it go…" Kathy shakes her head, amused, but I just feel ill, shaken to the core. What have I gotten myself into the middle of?
"You see, Olivia," Elliot speaks to me, but glares at Richard. "Richard and Kathy were an item for awhile, before we started dating. Practically engaged, weren't you?"
"Elliot, it was high school, for pity's sake. We were kids," Kathy admonishes.
"So were we," he says, still staring at Richard.
"All water under the bridge, Elliot," Richard grins, but his voice is steely, his eyes dead. "And besides, you won, right? You got the girl, the family, the house, the job. The partner." With this last, he looks pointedly at me and I, Goddammit, blush.
"Yeah," Elliot finally releases the table, rubs his hands. "I won, all right."
Now Kathy is staring at Elliot, hurt shadowing her face.
"Drop it. Both of you." Again with the voice, the Mother Voice. They both look at her, and Elliot's face softens a bit, the vein stops throbbing. I take this opportunity to slip away, pushing through the people, the heat, the claustrophobia threatening to send me spinning off into oblivion. Fuck my coat. I just have to get home.
I'm on the front walkway before I realize my Goddamn keys are in the pocket. Shit. Now what?
"Olivia."
I swallow huge cold breaths of beautiful night air, willing my nerves to settle, my mind to sober.
"Where are you going?" He's using his angry tone, one he probably imposes on his kids and I bristle at the implication that I need reining in.
"Home, Elliot. Party's over."
"You think I'm gonna let you drive home in your condition?"
"I'm fine, El. Believe me, I can take care of myself." But I'm not going anywhere. He moves closer, his arm brushing against mine as he circles me, faces me.
"I don't even know what to say to you right now," he says in a low, ragged voice and I can't look at him. I look, instead, at the row of houses, at streetlights, at suburbia, at a life I will never live.
"There's nothing to say." I'm not thinking too clearly but I refuse to let him know. I will not let him drag me into a pointless battle of words, of wit, because there is no way I can win tonight. He senses this and moves in for the kill.
"Richard, Liv? Richard? You know I used to call him Dick when we were kids? He still is. A giant Dick." He is angry and hurt and, God help me, disappointed.
"It was nothing, OK? If you really have to know. It was nothing." I look back at the house nervously, expecting Richard or Kathy or half a dozen burly guys to come tearing out any minute.
"It didn't look like nothing from where I was standing." Elliot puts his hands on his hips – classic Cop Stance – and fixes me in the headlights of his eyes. I am hypnotized. "Richard certainly didn't seem to think it was nothing."
"It was…some kissing, all right?" I feel hideously embarrassed, like it's my father grilling me after missing curfew. Fuck you, I think. His face falls as I continue, but I don't care. "Kissing and…"
"And what?" he says quietly.
"And that's it. That's it, all right?" I rub my eyes tiredly.
He bites his lip, looks away. I've hurt him. I wonder, is it because I kissed Richard, or because I didn't kiss him?
"You know this wasn't about you. You know that, right?" He says this coldly, casually, cutting me to the bone. "He doesn't give a shit about you. This was to get at me. Hurt me because of this stupid, ancient vendetta. Because he was in love with Kathy …madly in love and she dumped him, 'kay? For me…"
My anger and frustration boils over into a rage I cannot contain. "Fuck you, Elliot. Happy Birthday, and fuck you."
"Liv…I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."
"I think you meant it exactly that way. Never one to mince words, Elliot. Nicely put, by the way. Mission accomplished."
I start to walk away – don't know where I'm going without my keys – but he grabs my arm, tight.
"He knows, Liv, OK?"
"Knows what?" I shout before I can help myself. "What the hell are you talking about?"
He lowers his voice even more, so I have to lean in to hear him. "He knows how I feel about—"
He stops, shakes his head. I wait for him to continue, but I can see he's battling some sort of demon in his head and can't go on.
It doesn't matter, because I'm done.
I pull away and head down the walk. "Go back in, Elliot. Have a piece of cake for me."
"Olivia! You're not driving anywhere." It's an order and my back goes up immediately.
"I'm going for a walk." I say this over my shoulder, dismissing him. "Your present's in my coat pocket. Let me know if you like it."
With that I am gone. Where to, I have no idea.
tbc