Page 20 of Deliverance

“Don’t forget to rinse them first, drummer boy,” Rayna calls on the way out. I’m tempted to give her the finger, but she probably doesn’t get my kind of humor, and I don’t want Cruz and Justice getting pissed at me for teaching their kids how to say “fuck off” before they hit puberty.

“We’ll be right back with the rest,” Hazel says.

And just like that, she and Rayna are gone, leaving me one-on-one with the pile of plates…and Drew.

“So…” She stares up at me through her long brown lashes. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? Last chance to tap out.”

“Trying to get rid of me already?” I chuckle, reaching for the faucet and wondering to myself why the hell the wife of a man who sells out stadiums for a living recruits his friends to clean up after a barbeque instead of hiring someone. My gaze flicks out the kitchen window to the back yard, and I watch Justice scoop Hazel up as she navigates between the lounge chairs to collect empty glasses. I can’t hear their voices, but I can see that she’s laughing. A storm of emotions slips across her face, all positive. Sometimes, they behave like children, utterly unaware of the fact that other people are watching, and I don’t know why I don’t feel weirded out by their dynamic. I should. Everything they have is foreign to me. Yet I’m not bothered by the affection they have for each other and are gladly sharing with the rest of us. In a way, it reminds us—those who are still single—that there’s a person somewhere out there who’s bound to light us up the way Hazel lights up Justice.

“Absolutely not.” Drew’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “I can use all the help I can get.”

“All right.” I shift my gaze to her and turn on the water. “How do you want to do this then?”

“I’ll start rinsing and you get the big guns going.” She motions at the dishwasher and grabs a brush.

“Sure.” Casually flipping the detergent bottle around, I sneak a peek at the instructions. I’m hoping Drew is too preoccupied to notice my incompetence due to the fact that I had a housekeeper do everything for me while I stayed in Bali, but, of course, she calls me out.

“It’s okay to ask for help.” She smiles coyly, extending her hand to me.

“Somehow, that defeats the purpose of my helpingyou.” I give her the bottle.

“You’re overthinking it. It’s just dishes.”

I lower my voice and lean toward her. “Do you not find it odd that Hazel uses us as free labor to do her housework?”

Drew laughs, her head tilting back slightly and her eyes filled with amusement. “Get to work, slugger.” She pulls the dishwasher door open and quickly fills up the detergent dispenser.

I smile at her reaction as we begin to load the racks. Her hair is partially undone and long strands fall down her back and shoulders in loose waves. Three black bobby pins shaped like spiders are holding the rest on top of her head.

“You know they got married right there, on that lawn,” I say, jerking my chin toward the back yard. The sun is almost gone. What’s left of it is just a thin orange line above the horizon.

“I saw the photos.” Drew nods, handing me another plate. “This is a beautiful house.”

“She’s good for him.” I don’t know why I need to voice this notion, especially in front of a woman I barely know. Maybe because old memories of my best friend’s first wedding suddenly begin to resurface and I can’t help but compare his life with Nikki to his life with Hazel.

Nikki gave him Aiden. What she never gave him was a home. And peace of mind.

This place is a home. It feels like one and I like that damn feeling.

“They’re amazing people. I’m very lucky to have met Hazel.” Drew glances at me over her shoulder and I grab the glass she’s holding.

“By the way, I took the liberty of looking up Zero Ecstasy.” It was the first thing I did after I got back to Laguna the day we met at the gallery. Doing some digging on a guy who inspired the artwork I own only made sense. That and honest professional curiosity.

“Oh?” Her gaze jumps to me, intent. “And what did you find?”

“Not much, as a matter of fact. There are only a couple of live recordings of questionable quality and a few demos up on YouTube, but from what I heard, the band is pretty good. They sound tight.”

“Yes. They were magnificent live. It’s a shame that some people who don’t deserve to die go so soon.” A flicker of sadness and something else that feels a lot like rage enters her eyes, but she puts her mask of nonchalant aloofness back up so fast, I miss the opportunity to act on it. I simply file away this little piece of information that’s been revealed to me.

“They actually recorded an album right before Cash—” Drew pauses and I can tell she’s struggling to talk about the loss, which makes me wonder about the nature of their relationship. Were they just friends or were they more than that? Lovers maybe?

“Before he left?” I add.

“Before he died.” Drew corrects me. “With the exception of my art, I like to call things what they are. Just because you use a different word for something doesn’t make that something go away.” The brush she’s holding trembles and I realize it’s because her hand is too.

Heavy silence stretches between us.

“I’d love to hear it,” I say finally.

---