“Nice to see you, too,” I say. “Congratulations on Raymond’s big day.”
Annie fills the ensuing lull with a beverage offer. Richard glances over at the makeshift bar set up on the other side of the room and tells Annie thanks, but he’ll just help himself. “Does anyone want anything?”
I spot a half-dozen bottles of champagne set up like trusty soldiers and nod. It is only eleven, but I am definitely ready for a drink. “Whatever you’re having is fine,” I tell Richard, knowing how couple-y my words are.
Ray’s face suddenly lights up as he belts out an “Uncle Ben’s in the house!”
I inhale sharply but keep my eyes straight ahead, fixed on Raymond Jr. I know it’s not possible for a six-month-old to know what’s going on, but I swear that baby of Annie’s turns, sneers at me, and then smiles at Ben who I can feel standing directly beside me. Close enough for him to smell my perfume—because I am breathing in his natural scent, one that I didn’t quite realize Ben had. Sort of like coming home after a long vacation and realizing that your apartment really does have a unique smell.
Ben leans in to kiss the top of Raymond’s head. He makes no comments about how much the baby has grown. Clearly he’s come around a time or two.
Then he turns to me and says, “Hi, Claudia.”
I exhale and allow myself to make one second of eye contact. He looks exactly the same. He looks like Ben. My Ben.
“Hi,” I say. My voice sounds funny, and I feel a sudden shot of weakness. Physical weakness where my knees feel as if they might give. I try to smile, but can’t. I’m not sure what to do with my hands. I wish I already had my drink. Annie and Ray exchange a glance and then slip away to greet other guests.
“How are you?” I manage to say as my eyes fall on Ben’s bare left ring finger.
“I’m fine. You?” he says.
I tell Ben I’m fine, too, as I watch Richard out of the corner of my eye. He turns, observes me with Ben, and then turns back toward the window, a flute of champagne in each hand. He sips from one. He must know that I’m talking to my ex-husband.
“It’s good to see you,” Ben says sincerely.
“You, too,” I say. It is.
“I’m glad you came,” he says. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”
I glance at Richard again who is still staring out the window.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” I say.
“Oh, well, I’m actually Raymond’s uh, godfather,” he says earnestly.
“Oh. I didn’t know,” I say. “What an honor.”
“Yeah,” Ben says. “It is pretty cool.”
I smile as I feel an insane rush of what feels pretty close to high school jealousy. Like the feeling I had when my best friend Pam was elected to the homecoming court. We were so connected at the hipwe even looked alike. People always asked if we were sisters, even twins. So why was she chosen over me? I feel the same way now as I wonder why Annie and Ray gave Ben the nodand not me? Is it because I don’t want children? Is it because they’re taking Ben’s side? Is it because I’ve been a bad friend? Or maybe they were just more hard up for a godfather than a godmother. After all, neither Ray nor Annie has a brother.
At this point, Richard moves away from the window to make small talk with a man I don’t recognize. I think, Good, I have another minute . Even though I’m not sure what to say next.
And then it comes out. My stellar question: “So you didn’t bring Tucker?”
I instantly regret my choice. First of all, he obviously didn’t bring her because she’s not here. Second, I look nosy and petty and jealous.
“No,” Ben says, a half-smile on his face. “I did not.”
It occurs to me that the only possible advantage to my question would be if it actually cleared up the status of Ben’s affairs, but his answer gives me nothing. So I am merely left with that foot-in-the-mouth feeling.
At this point, I see that Richard has finished up with his new friend. He looks over at me again, brows raised, as if to say, No pressure, but should I join you ? I nod. Any other response would be rude, even to go-with-the-flow Richard. Then, just as Richard is walking across the room to join us, Ben says, “I see that you came alone, too.”
One beat later Richard is next to me, handing me my champagne. It is an unmistakable gesture, but Ben looks confused, as if he’s trying to place Richard. Which he can’t do because they’ve never met.
I have no real choice but to say, “Ben, this is Richard Margo. Richard, Ben Davenport.”
“Hi, Ben. Nice to meet you,” Richard says.