Page 100 of Romance Languages

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A little while later,lunch was served. It was a gorgeous buffet. The tray of short ribs looked as sumptuous as I remembered. People murmured their delight and kept saying how good the food was.

I took their word for it.

A full buffet was one of the most beautiful sights in the world. Delicious abundance. And yet I didn’t have the stomach to eat. I was living on borrowed time. The bill for my Seamus alibi would be due.

The waitstaff wheeled out a replica of Grandma and Grandpa’s wedding cake, three tiers of vanilla with strawberry filling. Usually I shied away from baked fruits, but all rules were suspended when it came to cake.

They cut a piece of cake but passed on feeding it to each other by hand. They used forks.

“I don’t want to ruin my nails,” Grandma told the party crowd.

My heart swelled as I watched them be adorable together, as they’d been for the past half century. Not everyone got to have that, myself included, and that was okay. Some couples could be a beacon of hope for the rest of us.

Grandma and Grandpa shuffled onto the dance floor set up by the band. Vance Vance Revolution started playing “Something.” Couples filled the floor: my sister and her husband, my brother and his barely-legal girlfriend, my parents. I watched from my seat, a plate of lettuce in front of me, feeling lower than I thought possible. But I kept a smile on my face because I wasn’t going to ruin this day for my grandparents.

I went to the bar for a drink, going with the fruity themed cocktail, The Lovebirds, which had been concocted for the event. I got roped into a conversation with one of my grandparents’ neighbors, an older couple who really had some things to say about how teachers unions were destroying education. As if today couldn’t get anymore stressful.

Grandma swooped in like a superhero, her perfume a calming force in my life.

“I’m going to borrow my grandson for a moment.” She gave me an eyeroll once we were out of their gravitational pull. “If we didn’t invite them, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“They’re charming.”

“Bullshit. Speaking of charming, where’s Seamus?”

My stomach dropped. As much as it hurt to keep lying to someone I loved, I was in too deep. “He’s still helping his dad.”

“Still? What are they doing?”

“Fixing a car?” That was something fathers and sons did. It was the top answer on an episode ofFamily Feud, from what I remembered.

“Tell him to take a pause on fixing the car. The party’s going to be over soon.” I appreciated how excited she was to see Seamus again, which only made the lie worse.

I rubbed my eyes, everything in my life piling to the forefront of my brain.

“I…I need to tell you the truth, Grandma.”

Concern ringed her eyes.

“Seamus isn’t helping his dad fix his car.”

“Seamus didn’t have an outfit to wear today.”

The hairs on my neck tingled at the familiar, jovial voice. Seamus slipped his hand into mine. He wore the nicest outfit I’d ever seen him in. A full suit with a tie.

“There you are!” Grandma pulled him into a kiss.

“I didn’t know the dress code, so I had to run out and buy a suit. I should have one, but the one I own is from when I was fifteen, and the pants are basically capris.” Seamus lifted my hand and kissed my palm.

Fuck, he had never looked better. Dapper, sophisticated, damn sexy. His wild shag of hair was combed into submission. His beard was gone.

“You shaved,” I said, wanting to run a hand over his smooth cheek.

“It’s Judy and George’s fiftieth wedding anniversary. How could I not?”

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble to get a new suit,” Grandma said. “Although, for someone your age, you should have one.”

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