“Ugh, what now!” I slumped my shoulders and Bobby let his end of mallet go, so that it pivoted to the ground. I leaned my weight against it. “Well, I guess I need go see about what they want.” I turned to the girls. “Keep playing, I’ll be back in a little while.”
“Hi Milly. Aggie.” Bobby looked over me and waved coquettishly to the flaxen-haired twins. I could feel the reverberations of their hearts exploding from feet away. But I knew from his overly flirtatious tone that he was just having fun.
We walked through the grass side by side until we came to one of the gravel paths that lead to various stations on the estate. A weathered bike lay on its side, a quick mode of transportation through the vast property. Random bikes and scooters could be found lying in the grass for anyone who felt like shortening their travel.
“Want a ride?”
“Sure.” I sulked. “Did she say what she wanted? Mom and Julia together are so overwhelming.”
“Nope. Just that it was about the wedding.”
“What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be with Rory and the other boys?”
“They’re out waterskiing. I’ll catch up with them later. I volunteered to stay back a bit and do some heavy lifting.”
“That’s awfully nice of you,” I admitted with a hint of surprise.
“Don’t be so shocked,” Bobby remarked. “Why aren’t you in the water anyway? Croquet? I think I’ve seen you play maybe three times before.”
“It’s my cousins. They don’t want to get wet. They’re like porcelain dolls, those two. And somehow, though they are here for me, I need to entertain them. Plus, Rory and I agreed to stay apart today, build anticipation.”
Bobby shrugged his shoulders and reached down to pick up the bike. “Well,” he said mischievously, “I have something you can take a break with if you’re up for it.”
“What’s that?” I skeptically placed a hand on my hip.
Bobby looked from side to side and reached into his pocket, pulling out a rolled up piece of white paper.
“Robert Fitzpatrick Lightly!” I scolded. “Reefer?”
“Shhh!” He flitted his eyebrows. “You want in?”
“I’m getting married tomorrow!” I insisted in a hushed tone.
“God Lil, you’re not dying tomorrow, just getting married.” He jutted up his chin. “Have you ever?”
I had, once before. With Margaret MacDonald, my old college roommate. She was dating a townie and he gave her a cigarette laced with some marijuana. We stuffed towels under our room door and exhaled out the window. I didn’t feel much. “Yes . . .”
This was the fun I had with Bobby. He was spontaneous. And I wanted to be spontaneous, too. Rory was predictable, and I loved that about him. He was a safe place, but Bobby kept me on my toes. Bobby and Rory were like two ends of a seesaw, and I spent my time with them standing in the middle, teetering. That balance was what made our threesome so much fun.
“And for your information, I don’t think I am dying tomorrow, whatever you meant by that. Just that I want to be in a good state.”
“You’ll be fine in a few hours.”
I crossed my arms and watched the joint twirling in his fingers. “Well, fine, but we need to do it somewhere quiet where no guests can find us, and quick before Julia starts sticking her nose everywhere.”
“Hop on then,” Bobby ordered, wrapping his leg around the bike.
I sat sideways on the top bar as he pedaled to the furthest end of the estate, by one of the docks. We jumped off the bike, where he abandoned it, and then we trudged past some low-hanging branches into the untamed woods we both knew so well. We found a downed tree, where we thought we would be safe from prying eyes and noses, and sat.
Bobby pulled out a Zippo lighter and placed the flame to one taut end of the joint while he pursed his lips around the other and sucked in. The end of the white paper curled into a burnt orange and black ember that illuminated as he drew in and dulled when he stopped.
“Here,” he said hoarsely, his chest puffed up while he held in the smoke.
“Maybe I shouldn’t.”
A hazy white trail snaked from his lips as they formed a plump O. “You’ll be fine tomorrow. But it’s your call.” His tone was indifferent, but he couldn’t resist adding a light jab next. “What? Just ‘cause you’re marrying my brother, you’re supposed to suddenly become a nun or something?” he hissed acerbically. “Can’t fool me. I know ya’, Lil.”
“Oh and Rory doesn’t?”
“I never said that. Just that he sees you differently. Like a prize. Rory’s all about winning things.”
“You don’t know what you are talking about.”
“You’re right, I don’t know my brother at all,” Bobby retorted sarcastically.
“And I am no thing to be won,” I snapped.
“Never said that either.”
“And how Rory and I feel is none of your business anyway.” I shifted my seating position in protest to Bobby’s observations. I was inclined to ask Bobby how he saw me. But that would show too much deference to his opinion.
“Yeesh. You’re awfully defensive today. I thought you would be flattered.”
“You? Flatter me?” I barked out a sarcastic laugh. My eyes wandered back to the joint between his fingers.
“It’ll take the edge off, if you’re nervous.”
“Nervous? Why would I be nervous?” I countered defensively.
“Isn’t everyone when they’re getting married?” he posited innocently. But his words had spoken to a secret I had been hiding.
“I suppose.” I rolled my eyes. Maybe Bobby was right. Maybe it was normal to feel hesitant. To not gush at the thought of my impeding union with Rory. It was normal to feel off before a wedding, wasn’t it?
I gave one last hard look at the skinny cigarette and pulled it from his fingers.
“Atta girl,” he said.
“I’m older than you.”
“Hardly,” he muttered. I thought I heard a hint of annoyance.
I inhaled the smoke, but unlike the cigarette I smoked with Margaret, this one seared my lungs and I choked on the burning pain as my throat spasmed. I let out a hacking cough and wheezed as I tried to get some air.
Bobby relieved me of the joint and gently slapped my back. As soon as I lifted my head, the world was soft and light. I could hear birds chirping I hadn’t noticed before, leaves rustling in the breeze, yet somehow things seemed quieter.
“I think I’m high,” I sighed.
Bobby laughed. I laughed.
“Me too,” he grinned.
And just as I hadn’t noticed the birds or the way the breeze tickled my ears before, I saw something in that smile, something familiar and new all at once. My heart raced and I snatched the joint away from him to distract myself.
“We have to save some for the guys,” he insisted.
“Rory’s smoking?” I asked in shock.
“That’s why I got this. A little fun on the water.”
“Well, I’ll say.” I nodded and frowned, impressed with the whole scheme. “If Mildred and Agnes were here . . .” I chuckled to myself.
“I think they like me,” he offered with a devilish grin.
It was unusually bold for Bobby. He usually downplayed the attention he got when I teased, but I guess marijuana weakens modesty. I choked on another inhale. “Well—aren’t—you—astute—” I cleared my throat. “Was it the drool, or that fact that they refuse to blink in your presence? Ugh, you and all your little girlfriends.”
“I don’t have girlfriends.”
“That’s my point. Women shouldn’t be things you trade around.”
His shoulders stiffened. “I take offense to that. I don’t trade girls.” He was visibly upset.