Your Perfect Life

My heart ached when I got the picture of Audrey in the floor-length gown. I’d been out to dinner with Charlie. I couldn’t stop staring at the screen on my phone for so long that Charlie finally asked me to show him what was so important.

“Is that your best friend’s daughter? She’s going to break some hearts in that dress.” Charlie grabbed my phone from me to take a closer look and I’d forced a smile, but all I could think about was John’s reaction to Audrey looking so grown up. He was going to hate that dress and would no doubt be mad at me that I’d bought it for her. I pulled the phone back from Charlie and analyzed Audrey from head to toe, taking in her confident posture, her self-assured smile, her sparkling eyes, wondering not just if I was making a huge mistake by not being there but trying to recall a time I’d seen her looking that way. Was that Casey’s influence? Not wanting to consider the answer, I’d turned off the phone and wondered why I didn’t go. Why I’d lied about needing extra footage of Melissa McCarthy so I could stay here with Charlie instead.

We were out to dinner at “our place,” which turned out to be a quaint Italian restaurant tucked away in a corner off State Street in downtown Santa Barbara. It was packed full of wood picnic-style tables draped with red-and-white–checkered cloths, with carafes of house wine and baskets of warm bread that we drowned in a sweet olive oil. Charlie teased me about my love-hate relationship with carbohydrates (apparently Casey had once called them the Antichrist) and I poked fun at his love-hate relationship with Dean. The waiter began to refill our glasses without asking, and the flirting continued. And I’d hoped Charlie wouldn’t put me on the spot about his relationship with Casey, that he’d just enjoy the night. But I wasn’t so lucky.

“So, I’ve got a couple of glasses of wine in you and that’s all it used to take. What did you used to call it—your truth serum?” Charlie smiled.

I’d nodded yes. That’s what Casey had called alcohol for as long as I could remember. But even before we shared our first drink, Casey was like an open book. It wasn’t long after we’d met in that English class that she’d told me her entire life story, down to her mom’s odd obsession with creepy porcelain dolls and the inappropriate crush she harbored for her second cousin, Shane. I’d been in awe, wishing I could be so open, having always been much more guarded with my feelings. Hoping all those years later in that Italian restaurant with Charlie that I wouldn’t let my guard down then either, that he wouldn’t see right through me.

“So I’m just going to cut right to it. What’s going on? Why are you spending time with me after everything that happened? After you said it was over—all of it—even our friendship. And please, Casey, I’m begging you not to try to dodge this. I think at this point, I deserve some honesty.” He was looking at me in such a way that I expected him to add, “admit that it’s not really you inside that body.”

As I stared at him, searching for the right words, but knowing any I chose would be wrong because they’d be lies, I tried my best to tell as much of the truth as I could.

“I think you’re one of the best men I’ve ever met. You’re kind. You’re smart. You’re talented. You treat me with such respect and . . .” I trailed off, not knowing if I should add the word on the tip of my tongue.

“Love.” Charlie supplied the word for me and I’d been unable to say anything else. I’d held the gaze of his brown eyes, looking lighter, almost hazel in the candlelight. “I still do, you know.” Charlie broke our silence.

“Even after what I did?” I asked slowly, wondering if he’d supply the story, if I’d finally find out what happened between them. I’d felt like such an imposter in that moment, trying to get intimate details from him that, for whatever reason, Casey had never shared with me.

“It wasn’t just you, I know that now. It was me too. I pushed you too hard, came on too strong. It wasn’t something you wanted, I knew that, but I wouldn’t relent. Of course you freaked out on me.”

What didn’t Casey want? What would have made her freak out?

And then maybe it was something I saw in Charlie’s eyes, maybe it was simply knowing Casey for so many years, but something just clicked and I knew what had happened. And moments later, Charlie confirmed my suspicions.

Still in a daze, when we were leaving the restaurant, all I wanted to do was sleep. Charlie slung his arm around my waist and I’d laid my head on his shoulder, absorbing his warmth, the cool air slicing through my light sweater. While we waited for the valet to get our car, two men appeared, one with a Beta Camera on his shoulder and the other who was shoving a microphone in my face. The man with the mic announced triumphantly that he was from TMZ and wanted to know when we were going public with our “engagement.” He’d nodded toward the ring on my left hand. I’d glanced down at the costume ring and laughed. “This isn’t an engagement ring.”

Liz Fenton , Lisa Steinke's books