Margot told herself that the Boarding House was on her way home. She told herself that she would just poke her head in, and if Griff wasn’t instantly visible, she would leave.
She stepped into the welcoming energy of the Boarding House bar; the air smelled like roasting garlic and warm bread and expensive perfume. The lighting was low, the good-looking patrons were exuding a happy buzz, and “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” was playing.
Ha! Margot thought. Got that right.
She stepped up to the bar, where there was one leather stool available. She didn’t see Griff, and she considered leaving. But the barstool looked comfortable; it would be nice, maybe, to just sit and have a drink by herself. She was lonely nearly all the time, but so seldom alone.
She ordered a martini. She tried not to appear self-conscious, although the word described her exactly. She was conscious of herself sitting alone, sipping a stronger drink than she should be having at this hour, waiting for…
A tap on the shoulder.
She turned around. Griff.
“You came,” he said. He sounded full of boyish wonder at that moment, as if discovering the presence of Santa Claus on Christmas morning.
Margot sipped her martini. She would not let him rattle her. She would be her genuine self. But she was struck by the ocean of colors contained in his eyes; she felt as if she might drown in them.
“It was on my way home,” Margot said.
He was wearing a white button-down shirt and jeans and a navy blazer. He now sported three-day scruff, which was even sexier than two-day scruff.
“You came to see me,” Griff said. “Admit it, you did.”
There was the smug confidence that Margot had expected. She juggled a dozen possible replies in her head, but then she settled on the truth. “You were right,” she said. “This morning.”
Griff’s eyes widened. “About what?”
“I would love an opportunity to vent my frustrations with my family to a kindly stranger. I would like to detail the many ways they are destroying my spirit.”
Griff held up open palms. “By all means,” he said. “Detail away.”
“Have you ever lost anyone?” she asked.
Griff said, “You mean, other than when my wife walked out?”
Margot said, “Yes. I mean, has anyone close to you died?”
Griff said, “My younger brother. Highway accident. I was twenty-five, and he was twenty-one.”
Margot stopped for a second. She thought, My siblings, they drive me insane, I despise two out of the three of them right now. But what if one of them died? Impossible to imagine; they were her brothers, her sister. She couldn’t go on without them. “Oh,” she said. “Wow. That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
Griff nodded. “This isn’t supposed to be about me. This is supposed to be about you.”
Margot said, “You’re a good guy, right?”
Griff shrugged. “My daughter seems to think so, but she’s only twelve, so what does she know?”
Margot’s guilt kept her silent. She thought about how painfully ironic it was that the one person she had really and truly wronged this year was the very same person she was now about to confide in. Griff would hate her if he knew what she’d done. He would be right to hate her. She should go. She couldn’t sit and tell him things with this insidious secret gnawing at her, but she couldn’t confess, either.
He said, “Have you ever lost anyone?”
“My mother,” Margot said. “Seven years ago, to ovarian cancer.”
She could feel his eyes on her face, but she couldn’t look at him.
Margot said, “My mother left a notebook behind for my sister filled with instructions for this wedding. She wrote them down because she knew she wouldn’t be around to see it.”
Griff pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, man,” he said. “That’s tough.”
“Tough,” Margot agreed.
The song changed to “Watching the Detectives.” Griff tapped his thigh. “You like Costello?” he asked.
Margot nodded. “Love him.”
“She’s filing her nails while they’re dragging the lake,” he quoted.
Her favorite line.
She said, “My father remarried a woman named Pauline. Nice woman. I have no complaints except that she’s not my mother. They’ve been married five years. This morning, as I was driving my dad to Sankaty, he told me he’s going to ask Pauline for a divorce.”
“Because…” Griff said.
Then, together, they said, “Because she’s not my/your mother.”
Margot thought, This guy gets it.
She said, “I also have two brothers. There’s Kevin, who is eleven months younger than me, but who acts like he’s older. He’s got this superiority thing, he’s always right, always in charge.” She stopped herself. Since Griff had lost his brother, it might be in poor taste to complain about her own brother. She said, “What was your brother like?”