“Oh.” Monica’s voice was filled with knowing. “You’re the cello player?”
“Yes,” I said again. I saw worry etched on Matt’s face. He was staring hard at Monica, trying to read her tone.
Her saccharine smile and fake laugh sent a cold shiver through me. She looked at Alexander but pointed to me. “This is the one?” Her eyes darted to Matt’s dad. “The one you bailed out, right Charles?”
“Excuse me? Um . . . bailed out? I don’t know what you mean,” I said, barely getting the words out above a whisper. Who was this meek, stupid girl I had become around these people?
“Nothing. This isn’t lunchtime conversation, Monica.” There was an edge to Matt’s tone.
I pushed my chair back from the table. “Restroom?” I asked to anyone who would rescue me.
“Down the hall, second door to the right,” Regina said.
When I stood, I swayed, dizzy from the champagne. Matt got up but I quickly moved past him down the hall. I could hear his footsteps behind me. I went into the bathroom and tried to close the door but Matt’s big steel-toed boot was jammed in the opening. “Wait. Let me in.”
“No,” I barked.
“Grace, I’m serious. Let me in . . . please.”
My eyes were watering and I was looking down when I finally let go of the door and let him in. He lifted my chin. His eyes were burning, like rum on fire. “Listen to me. I borrowed some money from my dad to help you get your cello back. I didn’t go into detail with him because I knew he wouldn’t fucking understand your circumstance. They don’t even deserve to know. You’re good and kind and pure, and you don’t need these people to tell you that. Let them think the worst. Let Monica unleash her judge-y bullshit. Let Alexander think we used the money for your fifth abortion. Let them all go to hell. I don’t care, and you shouldn’t either. They will never be satisfied in life because, no matter how much they have, they will always want more. Right now they want to strip some dignity from us because we have something they don’t.”
I sniffled. “What’s that?”
“This.” He bent and kissed me softly, slowly.
When he broke away he moved across the bathroom, opened the cabinet below the sink, and reached as far back as he could. “Got it! Naina never fails.” It was a bottle of tequila. He unscrewed the top and took a swig. “I have to drive, but you’re welcome to get blasted. It’ll numb the pain of being around my family, trust me.”
After three large gulps, I could feel the heat spreading over my face. I turned instantly pink-cheeked when I drank tequila. “I’m ready.”
He messed up my hair. “There we go. Now you look perfectly just-fucked. Let’s make them squirm.”
The group was in the living room standing near the gleaming grand piano when we returned. Monica look startled when she saw us. Alexander looked jealous, and Charles and Regina looked curious, as I fanned myself.
“Took you long enough,” Alexander said.
Passing Alexander from behind, I murmured, “Yes. Matt takes his time.” As I sat down at the piano bench, I made one last dramatic fanning gesture before placing my hands on the keys. “Can I play you all something?”
“That would be wonderful, Grace,” said Charles.
The tequila was blasting through my veins, working loose all the stressed-out muscles in my body. I began playing, first slowly, allowing the song to build. The music started swirling over and over, higher and higher, bringing every emotion to the surface like a spiritual experience. I felt like shouting, “Can I get an amen?!” I closed my eyes and played for five minutes without missing a single note.
When I was finished, there was silence. I nervously waited to open my eyes until I heard the sound of clapping. I looked to Charles first, who was beaming. “That was fantastic, Grace. Who was that, Bach?”
“Pink Floyd. ‘Comfortably Numb.’ ” I smiled.
“Well, it was beautiful at any rate,” Regina said.
“Thank you.” I stood and noticed that Monica was standing at Matt’s side, staring at him. He was unaware because his eyes were on me and he was grinning, a full, cheesy, million-megawatt grin full of pride.
As I walked toward him, he held his fingers up to his face like he was snapping the shutter of an imaginary camera and mouthed, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Monica saw the whole thing, but the best part was that Matt didn’t care whether she saw it or not. I’m not sure she even existed in his mind anymore. Just as I reached him, Alexander smacked Matt hard on the back. “She’s really talented, bro.”