"All of it," I said, relieved that I didn't have to elaborate.
"Then I take it they didn't approve of this young man in your life," she said.
"They didn't approve for so many reasons." I started ticking off on my fingers. "He grew up with a single mom who cleanedhouses for a living. One of his jobs was working at my father's country club, repairing the golf carts and equipment. He went to my school on a full-ride scholarship. He rode amotorcycle, James. They didn't like himat all. No part of this was acceptable and they made it very, very clear that I had no say in the matter."
"But sweet little Audrey was defiant," Jamie drawled. "She kept secrets and did what she wanted, didn't she?"
I ran a thumb over my fingernails. "No one was paying much attention to me in high school. My sister was always being bullied or targeted by a teacher, or so she said, and my parents focused more on her. And we'd moved to a new house in a different neighborhood and my dad finished his second term as Connecticut attorney general?—"
"Oh, so, your dad basically had the state police at his disposal? And the boy still deflowered you? Must be tough on him, carrying around those titanium balls. Requires a lot of core strength."
"I can't believe you saiddefloweredand—I won't repeat the other part. Oh my god. Someone is going to walk in here and we'll never be able to explain this."
"I'm just saying the boy knew the stakes were high and he chose to dive into your hedgerow anyway." She pressed her palms together in prayer, closed her eyes. "Bless us, Dolly, and the boy's big, shiny balls too."
I choked on a laugh. Leave it to Jamie to take an emotionally grueling situation and boil it down to its wackiest parts. "We're not talking about"—I dropped my voice to a whisper—"ballsanymore."
"Fine, fine, fine," she said. "The parents must've caught up on your extracurriculars and they didn't like what they found."
"They threatened and issued ultimatums and they scared the hell out of me."
"Nouveau religious father who also has the police on speed dial? Yeah, I believe those threats packed a punch."
For a minute, I couldn't claw my way out of the memory of when my father called me into his office, locked the door, and informed me I'd be leaving home that day. Either I'd go with the bags that'd been packed for me with fresh, new,modestclothing and supplies, or I'd be leaving with all the things I owned—which was nothing. Not even the clothes on my back.
And it just kept getting worse after that. So much worse. The restrictions, the requirements. The punishment that'd last until they decided it was over.
I'd never figured out how to breathe inside that memory. There'd been a time when I wished it would just suffocate me already.
"I—I didn't really have any options," I said eventually. "Not any that felt real to me. I had to do what they wanted. And it was awful. They made me leave and wouldn't let me talk to him. Wouldn't let me explain. And they were so furious, sodisgustedwith me."
"Oh, baby girl."
I shook my head. The last thing I wanted was sympathy. "No, it's fine?—"
"Isit fine though? And does it have to be?" A few tendrils of her long, dark hair slipped free from a claw clip. She batted the hair away, saying, "Just because you can't see the bruise anymore doesn't mean it won't hurt if you press on it."
I was quiet for a minute, thinking of all the bruises I ritualistically pressed. The ones I kept black and blue just to prove to myself they existed. They'd been real.
"I have several follow-up questions for you but two big ones before we go any further," Jamie said, wiggling two fingers. "First, how long do we have until your critters are back from their visit to the sixth grade? And second, do you have any morecookies or food items you'd share with me? I cleared out my snacks last Friday and most of my working memory too because I forgot that I graze all day long."
I glanced at the clock. "We probably have another half hour." The last days of school were completely lawless. Schedules? We didn't know her. "I have contraband almonds. Do you want those?"
"Audrey, love, I almost ordered delivery of a taco platter for twenty. The only reason I didn't is that they don't open for another two hours. So, yes, I'll take your almonds even if you throw them at me individually like I'm a sea lion while you tell me what happened with this old, iron-balled boyfriend of yours."
"He was there," I said as I emptied out the goods cached in my closet. "At the reunion. I didn't think he would be, but he was. We met for coffee the next day and we talked and—and he asked me to go on a trip with him out west to visit his mother and pretend to be his fiancée."
Jamie blinked a few times and then shrugged as if this wasn't unusual at all. "And you said yes."
"I did, because I've broken all my promises to him in the past and this is the one thing I can do. But now I think I've made a huge mistake," I said, the words running together. "More like a series of mistakes."
"Here's what I need you to do. Give me the minute-by-minute recap of this reunion. What was said, how it was said. Full dramatic reenactment." She rolled her hand as she chomped on the nuts. "Walk me through it and I'll decide if mistakes were made."
I continued organizing the closet as I went back to the tent on the tennis courts, with the wine down my dress and the blueberry feta crostini I hated. To the dance floor and the bathroom, and the next day at Semantic and the long drive back to Boston.
I didn't love voicing the tragic comedy vibes of this, especially with me playing the part of the tragedy, but I trusted Jamie enough to tell her the whole, horrible truth.
"Wait, wait, wait," she said. "Wait a minute. Just wait. You're telling me his mother is deathbed-dying and she commands him to get his single-dad shit in order with you and he says, 'Wedding bells ring in the morning.'"
