“You better quit your hidin’ and get out here with the rest of us,” Libby heard Jeanie say from behind her.
She spun around, clicking off her phone and putting it in her bag. She wanted to throw her arms around Jeanie and yell out, I got an interview! “Hey,” she said instead.
“I have to admit that I’m glad you’re here.” Jeanie glanced over her shoulder in Pete’s direction.
It only occurred to Libby then that Jeanie might have planned all along to put Libby and Pete together. It would be just like Jeanie to try and play matchmaker. “You didn’t have to come with all that food. You knew it was catered, didn’t you?”
Jeanie flashed a conspiratorial smile, “I had to bring the food. What’s a party without my meatballs?” She laced her arm in Libby’s and tugged on her to start walking. “I don’t care if it is catered. That fancy chef doesn’t have anything on me.”
Libby giggled as they made their way back into the crowd. This time, Libby took a moment to pay attention to all the faces in front of her. Ryan’s little girl, Charlotte, went running past holding a party streamer as though it were a kite, the long red paper trailing behind her in the air. Libby recognized the two boys who lived near her cottage, Thomas and Matthew. They were pulling at their shirt collars, clearly uncomfortable in dressier clothing, while playing a game of beanbag toss. Pop was now in a chair under another large white tent that had been erected near the food. He was puffing on a cigar and drinking some sort of frozen drink with a pineapple wedge on the edge of the glass. Helen was leaning on the back of his chair, her glass of wine nearly empty, her cheeks rosy from the wind and alcohol.
“You want a drink?” Jeanie asked, letting go of Libby’s arm.
“I think I’ll just have water,” she wrinkled her nose. “I’ve already had a Mimosa.”
“Oh, go on. Live a little, why don’t ya?”
“No, ma’am. I’m having water, thank you very much. I can live again in about thirty minutes. One an hour. That’s my max.”
Jeanie rolled her eyes playfully. “I’ll be back then,” she said, leaving her on her own. As she looked around at all the people, the smiles on their faces, the easy way they were with each other, she thought about her mother. She wondered if Celia would enjoy herself if she came. Maybe it was the email she’d gotten or the mimosa, or even the joy of dancing with Pete that had put her in a sentimental mood, but Libby suddenly wanted her mom to share in the moment. Maybe she could loosen up a little, have fun. With Jeanie there, she didn’t worry too much about her mother going on and on about her. Jeanie would steer the conversation elsewhere. And she had Helen. Helen was always pleasant with Celia. It was a perfect opportunity to invite her mom. Libby pulled out her phone and texted her: I’m at the Bennetts’. It’s Helen’s birthday. Want to stop by? It’d be nice to see you.
While she was having a nice time, Libby realized she hadn’t really gotten much done with the cottage. A lobster lunch sounded much more appealing than stripping kitchen wallpaper. She promised herself that, after the party, Pete and her friends were not going to occupy her time. She had things to get done if she wanted to ever leave town.
Her phone pinged with a text: On my way!
Libby shook her head in amusement. She knew that Celia enjoyed being in the middle of the action, surrounded by people. She just hoped that she could help her mother to worry less about appearances and focus on just enjoying herself. She was glad to have time to spend with Celia.
“Here’s your water,” Jeanie held out the glass, “and I brought you something else.” Pete stood beside Jeanie, grinning his crooked grin.
“Everything okay with the catering?” she asked Pete, unsure of what to say to Jeanie’s comment.
“Yep. Lunch should be out shortly.”
“Mom’s coming.”
Pete’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Look at you! Inviting your mom. I’ve never known you to be the family type.”
While he seemed to be joking, that comment rubbed her the wrong way. She was still a little anxious about being there, and now Pete was going to throw out a comment like that? Just because she had a slightly odd relationship with her mother did not mean that she wasn’t into family. “Why do you say that?” she asked. The comment had really bothered her.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve never seen you with your family out of choice before.” Jeanie had shrunk back and was taking baby steps toward the snack table.
“You’ve never seen me with my mother out of choice, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a family person.” The words were coming out harsher than she meant them to. She could hear it.