4: Embrace the Cheese

 

            Lakeside Gardens was already full of people buzzing around with drinks in their hands and manic smiles on their faces. Events like this always brought out the party animals in even June Lake’s most stand-up citizens. It wasn’t every day they had an excuse to get drunk and dance. Not twenty minutes in, and there were pinkened cheeks and bright eyes galore.

            A lot of familiar faces bobbed in of the sea of people. A lot of faces I’d wondered about after I left.  Mike Galloway from the school paper. Annette Ramsey, star of the girls’ softball team. David MacArthur, captain of the debate team. If it weren’t for the drinks in their hands and significant others on their arms, I would have thought I was back in high school.

That illusion was complete when I caught sight of Winn Porter, against the wall, surveying the crowd in true wallflower fashion.

My stomach twisted. Winn had been my best friend for years, until we drifted apart. Right about the time I started dating Wes.

Would it be weird to say hi? Or would it be weirder to avoid her?

Locating the bar, I ordered a martini and took a sip, steeling my spine. Would she even speak to me? I was a douche to her back then. Then again, it’d been years. She had to be over it by now, right?

Rolling my eyes at my indecisiveness, I pushed away from the bar and weaved through the crowd.

Winn looked up when I reached her. Recognition flickered in her wide gray eyes and her lips curved tentatively. “I heard you were in town.”

I took the empty space beside her. “The punch bowl incident?”

She glanced my way, amusement lighting her face. “Nobody cared about the punch bowl.” Pulling at the cuff of her long sleeve white shirt, she raised her eyebrows. “People are placing bets on how long it takes you and Wes to get back together.”

“What?” Heat flooded my cheeks. “That’s not—“

Winn leveled me with a stare, shutting me up. “Come on, really?” She shook a wisp of blond hair away from her face. “You grew up here. You know it doesn’t take much to get these people talking.”

I started to dispute it, to tell her that I’d done nothing to encourage the rumors, but a flash of people staring just this morning as Wes and I stood outside the Backdoor shut me up. “Dammit.”

Her lips twisted. “Uh huh.” She crossed her arms over her chest and turned back to the crowd. I joined her, the familiarity of the situation not lost on me. Most of our friendship looked a lot like this.

After about a minutes’ worth of quiet, I turned back to her. “I’m sorry about—“ I started just as she said, “It’s really good to see you.”

Once my half-apology sunk in, Winn waved a hand. “Kid stuff,” she said. “It was a million years ago, and I’d have probably done the same thing.”

I studied her face, looking for a hint of duplicity. Her light eyes were clear. “But I was such a jerk.”

“You were. And I was pissed for a while, but I got over it.” She grinned. “Besides, I felt a little vindicated when you dumped Mr. Perfect a few years later.”

A surprised laugh tumbled from my lips. “Something tells me you’re the only one who felt that way.”

“Eh.” Winn shrugged. “Anyone who knew you would’ve seen it coming.”

“What—“ I started, only to be interrupted by the star of the evening.

“Tierney!” Lola said as she zoomed toward me on shoes that more closely resembled stilts. “You did make it!”

Beside me, Winn took a subtle step back. Abandoner, I thought, turning to Lola with a wide smile. Had that coming.

“I’m so glad!” Lola continued before I could speak.  “You look so pretty! Love that dress! Is that a martini? Have you met Bart?” The machine-gun pace she fired the questions left my head whirling. I blinked at the tall, wide-eyed man beside her. He sported bright red hair, a meticulously shaped goatee, and an expression that said, help me. Help me, please.

Bart raised his hand in a wave and I smiled, moving forward to extend my hand. “Nice to meet you, Bart. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” he said, a tense smile on his lips as he took my hand.

Lola’s vice-grip tightened on his arm and she gave him a pull. “Baby,” she cooed, batting her extra long fake lashes up at him. “My mother wants us for pictures. We should get going.” Her giant blue eyes fluttered back to me, and she reminded me of a Doberman growling over a bone. Relax, sweetie, I wanted to say. I don’t want your chew toy.

“We really are glad you could make it,” she continued, dragging Bart back into the crowd. “Hope you have fun!”

I nodded and smiled. “You, too,” I said to their disappearing forms. “Poor dude.”

Winn chuckled, reclaiming the space next to me.  “I have to say, considering your history with the bride-to-be, this is a weird place to run into you.”

“Right?” I glanced over. “I think Lola invited me just to rub her happiness in my face.” I found the betrothed couple on the far side of the room and shuddered. “Little does she know, goatees creep me out.”

Winn snickered and I looked her way. “So. How have you been?”

“Oh, you know. Living the dream.” Her voice was wry, her gaze fixed straight ahead. “But my life is nowhere near as glamorous as yours.”

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Is that what people are saying?”

She turned her head, an eyebrow raised. “Pretty much. It’s not true?”

“I mean, if mountains of paperwork all day, followed by nights of junk food and Netflix is glamorous, then yeah. It’s totally true.”

            “Sounds good to me.” She reached up and tightened her ponytail. “I’d kill for a night of Netflix and junk food.”

            As she spoke, another familiar face caught my eye. Lifting my hand, I waved to Jack. He smiled and started toward us.

“Ooh,” Winn said once she saw Jack coming our way. “Wes might not come out on top this time, huh?”

“What?” I looked her way.

She grinned. “That’s ten bucks I’ll be happy to lose.”

Her meaning sunk in just as Jack reached us. He graced us with a smile. “Hey, ladies. How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know.” Winn turned and grabbed a tray of appetizers from the table beside us. “I’m a regular party animal.” Her lips pressed together in a wry smile, heat filling her cheeks as she lifted the tray over her head and slid between Jack and me. “He’s hotter anyway,” she whispered in my ear before she disappeared.

I watched her weave through the crowd, mind churning. Waitressing was an honorable job, but of all the things Winn talked about doing when we were kids, this was not one of them.

How did she…

“You’re still here,” Jack said, pulling my attention back to him.

“Yep.”

 “And you don’t look thrilled about it.”

I pulled the tiny plastic sword out of my martini and bit into an olive. My eyes brushed over him, from his shiny black shoes to his crisp white shirt and loosened tie. His blue eyes glittered like he’d heard a good joke he couldn’t wait to share, and I found myself wanting in on it. My shoulder lifted. “Thrilled is definitely not the word I’d go with.”

The corners of his mouth twitched with a smile. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” he said, taking my drink from my hand.

“What are you doing?” I looked from him to the drink he’d sat on the table beside me, then back to him. “How am I supposed to survive the night without the assistance of alcohol?”

“Easy.” Jack pulled me toward the horde of townsfolk. “You dance.”

“Wait a minute, pal.” I pulled back and planted my feet on the ground. “I don’t dance.”

“You cannot expect me to just stand by and watch a pretty girl die of boredom,” Jack said as he continued to pull me. My shoes gave no traction at all, so it was an easy task. “That’s gotta be a crime in at least three states.”

A tiny thrill ran through me at the word pretty. I ignored it.

“Please. Please do let the boredom take me.”

“Not a chance.” We reached the middle of the floor just as the music for “Macarena” started. Jack dropped my hand and began doing the moves right along with the music.

I covered my face in embarrassment. “Of course you know ‘Macarena.”

“Hey, darlin’.” He grinned as he flipped his hands. “If there’s one thing I learned from living in this town, it’s that you don’t question the cheese. You just go with it.” Then, he cocked his eyebrow, giving me a stern look. “Embrace the cheese, Tierney.”

He was right. We were surrounded by people enthusiastically clapping and jumping. By default, I looked like the weirdo. With a sigh, I lifted my hands.

“There you go.” Jack raised his voice over the music.

I laughed, shocked to realize that I was enjoying myself. Huh. Weird.

“Macarena” became “The Chicken Dance,” and then something by the Bee Gees. As the last song melted into some gooey love ballad, Jack looped his arm through mine and we headed back to the bar.

“I can’t believe I remembered that dance,” I said, climbing onto one of the barstools. My face was warm and my cheeks ached from smiling.

Jack took the stool next to me and angled his body my way. “I can’t believe you knew it better than I did.”

“Please. Did you see yourself? You’re a pro.” I ran my hands through my hair, pulling it off my neck. “I haven’t danced like that in years.” Waving a hand at my face to cool my overheated skin, I closed my eyes and sighed.

Jack shifted closer to me and my eyes fluttered as a gentle gust of air brush over the exposed skin at the nape of my neck. Something deep inside me twisted, hot and jolting, and I shivered. I looked over just as Jack moved away, sheepish.

“Sorry.” His lips tilted in half a smile. “You looked hot.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I murmured, my gaze catching his. I watched as his eyes flickered over my face, my pulse quickening. My hand released my hair and it fell over my shoulder, brushing my cheek. Jack tucked a strand behind my ear, letting his fingertips linger over my jawline. My blood heated. He wanted to kiss me. I could see it in those ridiculously blue eyes of his.

Before I could decide whether or not I’d let him, the stool behind me scraped across the floor, jarring us apart.

“You two really had the moves out there, didn’t you?”

I turned to find Wes leaning an arm on the bar. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you anywhere near a dance floor.” He kept his eyes on me as he lifted a hand to flag the bartender.

“Yeah, well.” Jack rested his arm on the back of my chair. “You’ve got to know how to charm the ladies.”

Wes looked at Jack, a tight grin on his face and Jack responded with an easy grin of his own. “Where’d Sam take off to?”

Wes frowned. Giving the bartender a nod of thanks as he slid a beer across the counter, he cradled the bottle in his hands. “She’s around here somewhere,” he replied, his eyes searching the crowd. “Probably wherever Lola’s at.”

Sam, I thought. Did I know a Sam? I squinted, trying to place the name with a face. A former classmate, maybe? A relative of Wes?

“Don’t you think you should go find her?” Jack pulled me from my mental Rolodex.

“She’ll find me.” Wes lifted the beer to his lips. “Always does.”

As if on cue, a pixie of a woman emerged from the crowd, made of straight-up sunshine and rainbows in her sugar-pink dress and bright blond hair. “There you are!” She looped her arm through Wes’s, jostling his beer. “I was beginning to think you left without me!”

I narrowed my eyes on her face, coming up empty. She only looked familiar in that she resembled Tinkerbell.

Wes smiled—not his usual smile—and extricated his arm from her grasp. “I’m still here,” His tone was wry. “And so are you.”

“Of course I am, silly! I’m the Maid of Honor. I can’t just leave!” She slapped his arm and giggled, her perkiness so palpable I felt it wrap its sticky hands around my neck.

Clearing my throat, I looked at Jack. Amusement flitted over his features.

“Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” Cupcake Barbie’s Hershey’s kiss eyes landed on me. “Sweetie, don’t be rude!”

Sweetie?

“Right. Sorry.” Wes cleared his throat and tilted his beer toward me. “This is Tierney. Tierney, this is Sam. My—”

“Girlfriend!” Sam filled in, stepping forward. She extended a hand and I took it, noting her sparkly pink nail polish. “I’m his girlfriend.”

The flicker in her eyes told me that she knew who I was. I wouldn’t doubt she knew who I was before traipsing over here. Hell, if she was Lola’s Maid of Honor, no doubt she got the entire backstory.

“Girlfriend, huh?” I repeated, looking to Wes. That would’ve been nice to know this afternoon. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, you, too!” Sam dropped my hand and whirled to face Jack. “I can’t believe your dad owns this place!”

Jack’s jaw clenched. “My dad owns most of Michigan. It’s not that impressive.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Sam slipped her arm through Wes’s. “Seems like it’d be pretty great!” Then, she turned back to Wes. “Now, what do you say you take me out on that dance floor?”

            As she said it, she took the beer from his hand and sat it on the bar. The decision made for him, Wes allowed her to steer him off.

As they turned away, Wes cast one last glance in my direction, something like apology simmering in his coppery eyes. I lifted my hand, then turned back to Jack, ignoring the snap and pop in my veins.

Maybe I felt something, sitting across from him in that diner. And maybe my mind began to wander into what if territory. But I was single. I didn’t have some boyfriend hidden away while I traipsed down Memory Lane with my ex-fiancé.

Forget about Wes, I thought, turning back to Jack with a smile. “Well, that was awkward.”

He slid a fresh martini toward me, transformed back into his charming self. “It’s only awkward if you make it awkward.” He took a swig of his beer. “Don’t make it awkward, Tierney.”

I laughed and picked up my drink, letting my eyes graze over him. Had he always been this cute?

As he sat there, looking at me with those baby blues, a shadow of a smile on his lips, my mind began to wander. He liked me. He made me laugh. I’d been having a good time with him. Who said the fun had to end?

Leaning closer, I treated him to my best smile and said the most un-Tierney-like thing I’d ever said:

 “You want to get out of here?”