Page 49 of No One But Us

ELLE

I know when I see that my mother is calling me, of her own volition, that I will not like what she has to say. She asks how I am without waiting for me to answer, which I suppose is for the best since I wouldn’t have a single positive thing to tell her. James remains wary. Ginny is out of town for the next week, traveling with the senator, but she barely managed to say goodbye when she left.

My mother goes on at great length about how “rad” Tommy’s new album is (I somehow manage not to mention that no one has used that word since the last time he was famous), and I passively watch Max and James through the glass door as they get ready for a full day of golf and partying (Max’s plan, of course).

“So I have something to tell you,” she says. “I wanted you to hear it from me and not the papers.”

Yes, that would be a novel way to learn bad news, Mom.

“Tommy and I are engaged.”

I feel curiously removed, unsurprised, as if I’ve been waiting for this moment. It’s always been as if I’m the parent and she’s the headstrong teenager—making one bad, impulsive decision after the next. I guess I should be relieved it’s not cocaine addiction or pregnancy. James shoots me a questioning glance on his way to the shed.

“You’ve only dated him for a few months, Mom.”

“When you know, you just know.” She sighs happily.

“It took you nine months to choose what color BMW you wanted, but you can pick a husband in two?”

“I thought you’d be happy for me,” she says. “Or are you only happy when there’s a wedding in Grand Cayman you get to attend?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh,” she says uncomfortably. “Nothing.”

“No, it’s not nothing,” I reply. “Who’s getting married in Grand Cayman?”

But I already know. I ask because I want her to tell me I’m wrong. Something she does not do.

“Your father. They emailed save-the-date cards, which is so tacky, but what do you expect from a child bride?”

I sit there holding the phone in front of me when our call ends. There’s a sharp pain in my chest. I wish I could cry to blunt its edge, but nothing comes. What the hell is happening to my life? It’s as if the world has spun too hard, hard enough that I’ve been cut loose from every single thing that tethered me. Some of those cords were thinner than others. Ryan I’d known less than a year. But Ginny? My parents? I’ve known them the longest. And it seems as if they’ve all decided, simultaneously, to set me free.

James climbs back up the steps with his golf bag.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Yep.” I nod, but the word is vacant, a shell for all the things I really feel.

He pulls a chair up beside me and slides the phone out of my hand. “No, it’s not. Who was that?”

“You should go,” I reply. “You’re going to miss your tee time.”

He reaches his hand out, and it circles my arm. The pad of his thumb, just the tiniest bit rough, runs over the smooth skin of my wrist.

“What’s going on?” he asks. “I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

I pull my arm from his grasp. “It’s a little late to act like you care now, don’t you think?” My voice isn’t angry. It’s empty.

“Elle,” he croons, and the sound of it tweaks something in my chest. “Of course I care. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

I sigh, staring at my chipped pedicure because I can’t meet his eyes. “My mom’s getting married.”

“Wow.” He pauses. “That’s…fast.”

“My dad’s getting married, too, apparently,” I say flatly, glancing at him. The words don’t seem real. “He didn’t invite me to the wedding.”

He looks at me blankly. “Jesus. I don’t even know what to say.”