The three of us went out the night before the wedding -no drinking, just dinner and dessert at the Osteria Romana, a lovely, old-fashioned restaurant near the Italian market. Its stucco walls and sparkling white tile floors were a far cry from the dives we used to frequent, but the veal saltimbocca was worth every penny. Happily, none of us had to count pennies these days.
Joe and I finished with decaf and biscotti. Sean ordered a scoop of raspberry gelato.
I wondered if he remembered the first conversation we had over the icy treat - when he revealed how he and Joe met, and let me know he wasn't averse to a three-way adventure.
If he did remember, he didn't mention it. We shared other stories: the Robert Cray CD Joe wore out trying to lure me into his room; Keith's pitiful crush on Cheryl; Marianne's new career; the look on my face when I found Sean's uncle's sweaty crew tramping through my house with the makings of our gym.
Our gym. The phrase made me drop my chin to my hand. It had been Sean's and my gym for the last six months. He hadn't removed his equipment yet. Would he come to work out after tomorrow? Would Joe mind? Was he secure enough to assume Sean and I would behave? I certainly intended to. If anything, my experience with my ex had increased the value I placed on marital fidelity. I would never hurt Joe that way. I hoped he trusted me. Still, I didn't dare ask my questions aloud.
Sean burst out laughing, distracting me. 'Remember Captain Blood?'
'And his lucky eye-patch?' I added, revelling in Joe's blush.
'I still have it,' he confessed. His eyes twinkled. 'I remember how it got lucky, too.'
Sharing those stories felt like the last day of summer camp, full of good memories, but wistful. Though I looked forward to going home, so to speak, I'd miss my playmates.
When the three of us started yawning over our plates, Sean and Joe walked me back to Society Hill.
Sean stopped Joe short of the front steps by flattening his palm across his chest. Joe's brows shot towards his hairline. The unspoken challenge did not move Sean at all.
'Sorry, buddy. You can't go in, not even for a good night kiss. She's got the dress laid out in the living room. It'd be bad luck for you to see it.'
'Oh.' Joe took a hesitant step back and looked at me.
I shrugged. I didn't know what Sean was up to, either.
Reading our expressions like a book, Sean staggered in mock dismay. 'I swear I'm not sneaking in for one last slap and tickle. I want to give Kate my wedding gift. You know, the one we talked about.'
The stiffness left Joe's stance. 'Oh. Sure. Sorry, I shouldn't have -'
'Forget it.' Sean waved his apology away. 'I kind of like being considered unscrupulous.'
Despite Sean's promise to behave, my nerves tightened as he dug his gift from the deluge that had recently overwhelmed my dining room.
He emerged with a shop-wrapped white and silver box. Lilies of the valley sprayed out from the bow. Shifting from foot to foot, he ruffled the silk flowers with his thumb.
'I was considering a bun warmer, but I thought you'd like this better.' He thrust the box in my direction. 'Happy wedding, or whatever people say.'
I set the box on the one clear corner of the table and prised off the lid. Inside was a dog-eared stack of letters bound in blue satin ribbon. I touched one loop of the crooked bow. Sean must have tied this one. I skied my finger down to its central knot. The envelopes, all neatly slitted, held letters. Sean's Rittenhouse Square
address was printed on the front - in Joe's handwriting.
Curious but wary, I lifted them from the box. 'What are these?'
'Love letters.' Sean stepped closer. Though we didn't touch, his body heat warmed my back. "They're addressed to me, but most of what's in them has to do with you. I hope you don't mind that I cut out the parts that were private.'
I shook my head in confusion. 'Joe was writing to you about me?'
'Yup. About once a week. He asked how you were, who were you dating, what did I think of this dream he had about you, and could I please send some of your favourite lavender soap because he couldn't find it anywhere in New York.' Chuckling, he reached around me and tapped the letters. 'He told me all the things he was too proud to share with you - his setbacks, his triumphs, the fantasies he invented to get off by when he couldn't stand the thought of coaxing another stranger into bed. Not that there were so many.'
I sensed Sean's grin without seeing it.
'All the fantasies starred you, of course. They're pretty hot, so don't read them when he's out of town.'
'But why didn't he write me?' I asked, letting out my last scrap of unsoothed hurt.
'Aw, Kate.' Sean's hand settled to my shoulder. 'You don't know how many times I wanted to tell you he still loved you. But the idiot swore me to secrecy. I'm not sure he was wrong, either. Do you really think you'd have ended up here if he hadn't backed off for a while?'
I thought about that. Maybe Joe did have to leave before I could see him clearly. I'd locked him so firmly into his niche: Sean's bottom, my lovesick puppy. The truth was he'd had power over us both all along. The scales were never as unequal as I'd assumed. I just couldn't admit it back then. Like Joe said, I was afraid to let one man have all of me.