Page 31 of Count My Lies

“You’re welcome,” I say, feeling my cheeks warm again. I don’t look at Violet. I hope she doesn’t mind that I brought it for him.

“Bye!” she calls after him as he walks out of the room. Then she turns to me, smiling. “I’m so glad you can come on the boat.”

I feel warm inside, pleased she remembered my birthday, even more pleased that she wants to celebrate hers with me. “Me too.” I smile back. “Really, thanks for the invite.”

“Well, thanks for the coffee!” Violet says, motioning to the two lattes on the counter. “My favorite.”

We take our cups to the couch. As we settle in, Jay comes back down the stairs—fully clothed now—leather satchel slung over his shoulder, an umbrella in hand. He smiles, waves goodbye, and I blush for the hundredth time. A few minutes later, the rain starts, and Violet and I watch as it comes down in front of the bay window. When the coffees are done, Violet takes some photo books off the bookshelf and shows me pictures from their wedding. I love looking at the shots of her and Jay, dressed like royalty, glowing.

I study her profile as she stares down at the glossy pages of the book, pointing to different images, telling me about the guests at their wedding, about how the best man made a toast that made Jay’s mother blush. Something about Jay’s grooming habits before dates. I try to focus, but my mind keeps wandering.

What had Jay meant when he asked me if Violet had said anything about the two of them? Was their marriage in trouble? Did it have anything to do with the phone call that I’d seen through the window a few weeks ago? Had she been talking to him? I’d managed to forget about it—the anger on Violet’s face, her expression as she threw her phone against the couch—deciding it must have been nothing; she’s seemed fine. If something was going on between her and Jay, she would have told me, right?

Violet’s confided in me about any number of things these last few weeks, about how she’s worried no one will hire her in New York, especially since she has to take the bar again and doesn’t know if she’ll pass, about how she feels out of place among the other moms at Harper’s school, how she thinks she might be coddling Harper. I can’t believe she wouldn’t have mentioned something so big as marital problems. She trusts me; I know she does.

Finally, when Violet shuts the book, I clear my throat, take a deep breath. “Is everything okay?” I ask tentatively.

Violet frowns. “What do you mean?”

I shake my head. “I mean, with you. Just, you know, checking in.” I don’t want to tell her what Jay said. I don’t want her to think we were talking about her behind her back. And I don’t want him to think he can’t trust me.

She smiles. Her face is sunny, eyes bright. “Yeah, I’m great, thanks. Want more coffee? I can make a pot.”

I nod. Maybe they’d had a fight recently but had since made up. Maybe he wanted to know just how close we were, if she talked to me about their sex life. Looking at her now, at the open-book expression on her face, I’m sure: if something was wrong, she would tell me. “I’d love another cup,” I say.

When it’s time for me to leave, Violet walks me out. “See you Sunday? I’ll text you the address,” she says. She’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Sunday, for our birthday boat ride.

I nod, feeling that rush again, and smile. “See you Sunday,” I say. Happy birthday to me.

15

On Saturday night, I set an alarm for seven thirty the next morning. It turns out I don’t need it, even though it was past midnight when I went to bed; I wake when the sun rises, just before six.

I tried to go to bed early to make sure I was well rested for the day, but I was too excited to sleep. As much as I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about spending the day with Jay. I know I promised myself I’d be better in the name of friendship, but I can’t deny how I feel when I’m around him, the way my heart flip-flops, the flush in my cheeks. It’s harmless, I keep reassuring myself, as most crushes are. And who wouldn’t have a crush on Jay? I’m a woman with a pulse, last time I checked.

Now, I take my time getting dressed. I find a pair of dark jeans in the back of my closet and a flowy boho top from my teaching days. Then I wash my face and put in my contacts, rummage through the bathroom drawers until I find a bottle of half-dried-out foundation and some cakey blush. I dot the foundation over a smattering of pimples on my chin—something I was sure I wouldn’t be dealing with in my thirties, but alas, here we are—and rub some of the blush on my cheekbones. It’s subtle, but it helps.

Before I leave my bedroom, I don the hat I bought from the shop and the necklace Violet complimented me on. In my purse is a small box with a similar necklace inside. I found it at the same store. It’s not quite identical, since the one I’m wearing is supposed to be a family heirloom, but it’s close. They wrapped it for me in gold glitter paper, topped with a bow. I can’t wait to give it to her.

In the kitchen, I toast some bread and pour a cup of coffee. I hardly taste either. My whole body is wired with energy. An entire day with the Lockhart family. I feel so lucky I could scream. When I’m finished eating, I step into a clear morning, the sky a brilliant, cloudless blue. The marina is only a little over a mile from my apartment, so instead of the subway, I decide to walk.

I arrive quickly, in fifteen minutes instead of the twenty shown on my phone, and walk up the dock. The air is different here than in the neighborhoods—crisper, cleaner, wet with salt. The yachts and sailboats that line the path are oversized, looming tall, sunlight glinting off their shiny exteriors.

The weather is warm but not hot, a faint breeze skimming across the water, a perfect early summer morning, the kind you wait all year for. The smile on my face feels permanently affixed.

As I near the end of the dock, I hear Violet calling to me. I put my hand to my brow, squinting into the sun.

“Caitlin, hi!” Violet is standing on the bow of a large sailboat, waving. Next to her is Harper, her arm also above her head, swinging it back and forth. They’re both in straw sun hats and wear matching red plastic sunglasses.

I wave back, grinning. I want to run down the dock, fling my arms around them, squeeze them tightly.

When I get to the boat, Jay is standing on the side, Violet and Harper behind him. He offers me his hand, and I take it, then take a step off the dock. The boat rocks with the shift in weight, and I almost fall backward. Jay grabs me by the waist, pulling my body to his to steady me. Suddenly, we’re face-to-face, so close I can feel his chest against mine, the tickle of his breath on my lips. He smells like spearmint gum.

“Whoa, there,” he says, smiling, and everyone laughs. He doesn’t let me go right away, holding another few seconds. When he does, I breathe out, my heart pounding.

“Welcome aboard,” Violet says, extending her arm, motioning around the boat. “And happy birthday!”

“Thanks! Happy birthday to you, too! It’s beautiful out here,” I say, looking around. “I’ve never been boating. Do you guys come out here a lot?”

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