Page 35 of Count My Lies

Instantly, I feel guilty. She’s such a good friend. And how do I repay her? By flirting with her husband, wishing he was mine, that he would kiss me. I force myself to smile back at her. I’d neverdoanything, I tell myself. It’s a silly infatuation, like my high school obsession with Robert Pattinson, lusty, fevered, and forever confined to the darkened recesses of my bedroom, where I spent night after night fantasizing about him sinking his vampire fangs into my tender teenage flesh.

Jay joins us a few minutes later, carrying the cooler and a brown grocery bag. He sets them between us and sits down next to me, across from Harper and Violet. His thigh brushes against mine. Our eyes connect.Just a crush.But I know it’s not.

“Refills?” Violet asks, reaching for the cooler. Jay and I bothnod and pass her our cups. Even though it’s just cider, I feel a little drunk, light-headed and euphoric, high from the day, the salt air. Jay. His leg.

“For you,” she says, handing me my glass, “and you.” She gives the other one to Jay. Then she picks up her own cup and raises it to mine. “To my Gemini twin.”

I beam and touch my glass to hers. “Cheers.”

Jay reaches into the paper bag. “Who’s ready to eat?” he asks.

“I am!” Harper yells, her hand shooting above her head and waving wildly. “I’m so hungry I could eat ten sandwiches!”

“How about you start with one?” Jay says good-naturedly as he unpacks paper-wrapped deli subs, a few bags of chips, and a parcel of grapes, and passes them around. We eat leisurely, the boat bobbing beneath us, the sail rippling in the wind.

“Something about being on a boat makes me so hungry,” Violet says, opening a second bag of chips. “Jay, are you going to finish that?” She eyes his sandwich longingly.

“Here, you can have mine,” I say quickly. I’ve only eaten half. I slide it toward her, happy to make Violet happy.

“You better thank Caitlin, Jay,” Violet says, winking at me. “Otherwise I would have left you to starve.”

“Thank you, Saint Cait. My hero. Again.” He gives me that slow smile that makes me tingle, my stomach flip. I blush, smile back.

When we’re finished and everything’s been cleared away, Violet clasps her hands together. “Should we do presents?” she asks.

“Yes!” Harper shrieks, bouncing up and down in her seat. “Open mine first! Do mine, do mine!”

Violet laughs and cups her hand around Harper’s cheek affectionately, kissing it. “Okay, okay, darling girl, I will.”

Jay reaches into a big bag and hands Harper two gifts wrapped in silver paper. “Give these to Mom,” he instructs.

Harper happily does as she’s told, presenting them proudly to Violet. “This is the one from me!” she says, holding up the bigger of the two.

Violet pulls off the ribbon and tears into the wrapping. There’s a large white box inside. Violet opens the lid, lifts out its contents. It’s a light pink robe, soft-looking, like you want to bury your face in it. “I love it!” she says. She runs her hand over the soft material. “Thank you, Harpie, it’s beautiful!”

“I picked it out myself!”

“She did,” Jay confirms. “We spent all afternoon looking for the right gift, and she decided this was it.”

Violet pulls Harper into her arms, covering her with loud kisses. Harper squeals and wriggles away. “Now open Dad’s!”

Violet glances at Jay, then picks up the second package. Carefully, she unwraps it, more carefully than she’d unwrapped Harper’s. She turns it over in her hands, studying it. It’s a book, a hardcover copy by Bill Bryson.

She flips open the front cover, then to the title page. Both are blank. Quickly, she shuts the book and looks up, smiling at Jay. “Thanks, Jay. Bryson is his favorite,” she says, turning to me. “Have you read any of his books?”

I shake my head. I’ve heard of him—he’s a travel writer, I think—but have never picked up anything he’s written.

“He’s the best,” Jay says. “In a Sunburned Countryis my favorite.”

“It’s why we went to Australia for our honeymoon,” Violet adds.

Jay shifts, clears his throat. “Well, should we—” he starts, but I interrupt.

“Wait, I have a little something for Violet, too,” I say, reaching into my bag. “Here.”

I take the small, wrapped box, bow on top, and pass it to her. My heartbeat starts to pick up, my stomach feeling like it does on a too-fast roller coaster. What if she doesn’t like it? What if she thinks it’s stupid? Or ugly? Maybe she complimented me on mine just to be polite. I smile at her. My lips feel tight.

Violet takes it from me, smiling back. She unties the bow and removes the wrapping paper, then lifts the lid of the little box to reveal the necklace. The tiny pearl glints in the sunlight.

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