Page 30 of The Quirky Vet
Col smacks his arrogant new husband across the chest before high-fiving Fitz.
"What are you guys going to do?" Linus asks. Ryde's glued to his side, nodding along, like he was about to ask the same thing.
Fitz looks at me, and since this is my news to explain, I tell the guys about the conditional clause in Gramps's will.
"So, you're going to stay married?" Linus asks.
"Not sure yet," I reply since that's something we haven't discussed.
We order more booze—beers this time because we're being responsible—and as I take the first sip, it dawns on me how unfazed everyone was. Fitz and I have just told them we're married, and they barely missed a beat.
Why isn't anyone at least a little shocked at the absurdity of it all?
Oh, wait. Let me guess…
Because they know how I feel.
I skull half my beer.
How is it that everyone else seems to know when I'm only starting to catch up to my feelings now?
I guess a better question to ask is how long have I been feeling this way?
On second thought, maybe having another beer is better than answering that question.
We stand around chatting for a while, but my mind is elsewhere. Fitz has had a few days to process what I told him, and tonight, goddammit, we're going to sit down like adults and talk shit out.
A few hours later, the party has peaked and is starting to mellow. The bright, blue sky gave way to a muted dusky orange as dusk fell, and the temperature is starting to cool.
Polly's still tearing it up on the dance floor. I think the old chook has danced with every bloke here, and a few chicks as well. The Yanks have paired off. Wilby and Col have disappeared, probably off having a newlywed root somewhere, and Linus and Ryde are talking with some folks from town.
"Here you go." I slide a soft drink into Fitz's hand. He's standing off to the side, taking everything in. I switched tolemonade and water about two hours ago. I'm very much sober and awake.
And ready to talk.
There's an empty blanket on the ground a little bit away from everyone. "Wanna sit down?"
Fitz's eyes follow my gaze, and he nods. "Sure."
We make our way over and rest our drinks in the dirt, then stretch out, gazing up at the stars appearing in the orangey-purple sky.
We make small talk about how nice the ceremony was, the probability of Wilby and Col fucking somewhere, and the likelihood of Linus and Ryde hooking up at some point.
"The holdout is Linus," Fitz says.
"Remind me why that is again?"
"'Cause Ryde is Linus's best mate's son."
I roll my eyes. "Talk about complicated."
"Exactly." I watch as Fitz brings the bottle to his mouth, his throat flexing as he takes a swig of lemonade. "Poor bastard."
"Who?"
"Ryde. It's clear he's into Linus."
"How is it clear?" I shift on the blanket. "You don't know what's going on in Ryde's head. Maybe he just really admires Linus, or wants to learn from him, or is trying to be a good employee."