Page 18 of Cascade

So I wedge myself into the dress she pressured me to buy and walk over to Abigail and Hunter’s place. Abigail’s face lights up when she sees me and she runs over to squeeze my hands. “Opal, I’m so, so glad you could be here,” she tells me. “Hunter has been a disaster.” She drags me over to the tables laden with snacks and tells me that Hunter has been trying to prick her finger every day to measure her hemoglobin levels. “He’s terrified I’m going to miscarry,” she says.

I place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You know, that’s very statistically unlikely at this stage, right?”

Abigail nods. “I’m just really, really excited and now it won’t be a secret anymore!” I smile and let her offer me deviled eggs. I decline the kale wrapped faro grains from the co-op and aim for the cheese dip while Abigail rushes away to greet Diana and Asa.

I stand off to the corner of the yard, chewing my treats and trying to disappear into the fence behind me, but Sara spies me and wanders over, toting Gavin on her hip.

“Hey!” She punches me in the arm affectionately. “Have you met Rose and David yet?” She’s referring to Hunter and Diana and, I suppose, Archer’s parents.

I shake my head quickly. “I really wasn’t going to stay long. I just want to support Abigail for her announce—”

“Oh no, you don’t.” Sara shifts Gavin to the other hip. “You are staying with me and we’re going to get tipsy on Diana’s summer ale and we’re going to avoid that meddling pack of Crawfords together.”

I fight back a giggle and try to remember not to blurt out that I don’t like to get drunk. People tend to feel uncomfortable when I say things like that. Like they can instantly see the painful truth behind my words and that’s just not a good vibe for a celebration. Sara surprises me, though, when she says, “I was just teasing about getting drunk. I know you’re not really down with public intoxication.”

Surprised, I stop chewing my snacks and just stare at her, my head tilted to the side. Sara continues. “I get it. My mom is an alcoholic and I spent enough time cleaning up after her drunken drama.” Sara changes the conversation to Gavin’s teething, but I can’t focus on her words. I’m still stuck back at her carefree admission that her mother has a drinking problem. Sara said the words with such ease and comfort. Just blurted out the secret I somehow knew never to utter my entire life and now only very timidly do with my dad’s physician.

It’s funny. I know how to ask my patients if they are struggling with abusing alcohol. I know how to offer them resources when their partner is struggling with abusing alcohol. I have no idea how to talk about my own dad’s alcoholism and how that affected me growing up.

Sara must have asked me a question because she looks at me, anticipating an answer. “I’m sorry,” I tell her. I start to make an excuse but then I look at Gavin’s bright, hopeful eyes and I tell her, honestly, “I’m still stuck on you talking about your mom’s alcoholism.” I exhale and Sara looks at me, expectantly. “You know…I have experience with that, too…my dad.”

I feel the earth shifting under my feet, keep waiting for the tectonic plates to shift and swallow me whole because I’ve uttered the ultimate taboo. Saying the words to a doctor is hard enough. I’ve just blabbed our family laundry to an outsider. But nothing happens. Sara nods empathetically and Gavin tugs at her earring. I help her disentangle his wet hand from her ear and, as if she can tell I’ve shared all I’m capable of sharing in one day, she redirects the conversation to Indigo’s party outfit.

“I hear you helped her pick out that contraption,” Sara says, pointing at Indigo’s plunging neckline and full skirt. We laugh together and I almost miss the arrival of Archer Crawford, who jogs into his brother’s lawn party with no shirt, glistening in the heat.

I have seen him this way dozens of times, when I’ve shown up at his house after he’s been running. I’ve licked his sweaty chest in the shower, shoved him down on his kitchen floor and straddled his toned hips. But here, among his family, he’s different. He’s animated, twirling his mother around the yard and making her squeal. She swats at him and yells at him to go take a shower. I stare as Hunter, stone faced, tells him to hurry up and get changed because he has an important announcement.

I try to avoid his gaze as he scans the yard, looking past Hunter’s scientist friends over to where I stand with Sara and Gavin. And then I nearly swoon as the heat of his wanting washes over me. Archer looks at me hungrily, his eyes shifting to rake over my body. I flush from my painted toenails to the tips of my ears, but I don’t break our connection until Sara clucks her tongue at me.

“Jesus, Opal. You better follow him inside or else quit eye-fucking him. This is a family friendly party.”

I wince at her words and look away from Archer, biting my lip. “I’m sorry,” I tell Sara. “I just…”

“Hey, I’m just messing with you,” she says. “But maybe you should follow him inside. Would be a shame to let that dress go to waste.”

I laugh and smooth out my skirt. The three of us head over to find Indigo when Gavin starts gnawing on his hand and looking to nurse. I make sure Indigo is situated in an Adirondack chair and she beams at the easy-access neckline as she gets settled to feed Gavin. “You did great,” I tell her, nodding at the dress. “I’m just going to go grab you a glass of water so you can stay hydrated in the heat.”

“Bring me a wheat beer, too,” she says. “Just the one. I’ll sip it slowly.”

Laughing, I bend down to the galvanized tub full of beer bottles nestled in ice along the back wall of Hunter and Abigail’s house. I squint to read the homemade labels—Diana has gotten quite creative, printing out names like Hoppy Hunter and Angry Asa Ale. When I find the bottles of “Fruit of the Womb Wheat” I almost fall over laughing.

Just as I wedge my fist into my mouth to control my laughter, I sense someone standing behind me.

Archer.

I can smell him, freshly showered, breathing near my ear. I’m glad for the cold beer in my hand when I feel his body press up against my back, heat radiating from him and melting my core. Melting my inhibitions. Almost making me forget, but not quite.

“I need to get this to Indigo,” I whisper, not turning around. I rush away from him just as Hunter starts banging a metal spoon against the side of the chicken coop to get everyone’s attention.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Archer

MY MOTHER’S SCREAMS of happiness drown out everything else at the party. Hunter barely gets out the words “Abigail and I have procreated,” before my mom explodes and my dad scoops up Hunter like he’s a baby. Dad carries Hunter around the yard gleefully while everyone laughs.

Except me. I’m trying to get my hard-on under control while I figure out how in the hell I got so lucky that Opal would show up at my family barbecue despite telling me she didn’t want to be my date.

Asa and Diana swarm over to Abigail, hugging her, and I hear Diana telling Hunter not to give Asa any ideas. Once everyone calms down, Abigail and Hunter start gushing about their baby doctor and everything starts coming together.

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