39. Slice
The band plays one great song after another—the Violent Femmes, the Cure, Weezer—and the group of Chads keep Brooke’s and Dru-Ann’s drinks flowing. When the lights come up and the lead singer launches into “Closing Time,” Dru-Ann steers Brooke around the couples who are about to hook up and out the side door—where they run smack into a ridiculously long line of people waiting for cabs.
No, Dru-Ann thinks. This won’t do. She’ll call an UberXL. Hell, she’ll use Alto, the world’s most expensive rideshare app. Do they have Alto on Nantucket? No, it turns out, they do not. UberXL, then—but the nearest one is thirty-seven minutes away. They should have left the bar earlier. It’s past one now; at this rate, they won’t make it back to Hollis’s until two. Dru-Ann hits Confirm Ride because what else can she do, it’s too far to walk—then she sees the pizza parlor across the street, Sophie T’s, is open.
Yes! she thinks. She’s starving; the chicken and frites at Nautilus were a lifetime ago. “Follow me,” Dru-Ann says to Brooke. “We’re getting a slice.”
Soon Dru-Ann and Brooke are holding hot, delightfully floppy pieces of pepperoni pizza. They take their paper plates outside and sit on the curb with their legs stretched out into the parking lot.
It’s come to this, Dru-Ann thinks. “So what’s up with your hubby?” she says. “He’s in trouble?”
“He groped someone at work. The new twenty-three-year-old brand
manager, Irish Fahey.”
“Cool name,” Dru-Ann says.
“She’s pressing charges for sexual misconduct. The sheriff came on Thursday to serve Charlie.”
“Did he have anything to say for himself?”
“He claims he was kidding around. What Charlie thinks is ‘funny’ is gross, inappropriate, and offensive.” Brooke takes a bite of pizza and executes an impressive cheese-pull.
“I’m well acquainted with a lot of Charlies,” Dru-Ann says.
“It’s not the first time this has happened,” Brooke says. “He groped a server at the Oak Room in Boston a couple years ago. That one settled out of
court.”
“Jeez, Brooke.”
“I know. He sucks. And this time, he got fired.” Suddenly she starts to cry. “Fired! We have twins going into their senior years at Yale and Wesleyan—”
“You have twins? At Yale and Wesleyan?” How did Dru-Ann not know this? Brooke is proving to be a deep well.
“Will and Whitney are amazing but I don’t talk about them because I’m pretty sure that’s one of the reasons Electra kicked me out of the friend group.”
“Electra is the woman who showed up at dinner?”
Brooke nods and cries harder. “Everything is such a mess. I did show her the itinerary and I did write down rock and roll football in my calendar and
now Hollis hates me.”
“Hollis doesn’t hate you.”
“But that’s why she didn’t come to the Box. She didn’t want to be with me.”
“Well, her loss,” Dru-Ann says. She sets her paper plate down. “You were a lot of fun tonight.”
Brooke turns to Dru-Ann; she has a smudge of orange pizza grease on her nose. “I was?”
“Yes,” Dru-Ann says. She takes her napkin and wipes the smudge away.
“Yes, you were a very fun date.”
Brooke touches her nose and before Dru-Ann knows what’s happening, Brooke leans in and kisses her. At first, Dru-Ann thinks this is just Brooke’s usual over-the-top enthusiasm, but then she feels Brooke’s tongue dart between her lips. Oh, for Pete’s sake! Dru-Ann thinks. She gently puts her hands on Brooke’s shoulders and eases her away. This isn’t the first time a woman has tried to kiss Dru-Ann; apparently people hear sports agent and see Dru-Ann in her signature blazer and assume she’s gay.
“Brooke,” she says.
Brooke gazes at Dru-Ann with wide, dopey eyes and a trembling lip.
“You’re not attracted to me? You just said I was a fun date. And the way you
were dancing with me made me think…”
Was Dru-Ann dancing suggestively with Brooke? Maybe a little, but it was in good fun, because she thought Brooke was straight. She certainly hadn’t meant her dancing to be a come-on. She danced with Brooke the way women who are having fun dance with each other!
Dru-Ann’s phone bleeps—the UberXL is a minute away. Praise the Lord, she thinks. She collects her trash and pulls Brooke to her feet. “Our ride is here.”
In the dark back seat of the Uber, Brooke falls asleep with her head on Dru- Ann’s shoulder. As they drive down the long and winding Polpis Road, Dru- Ann tries to imagine what Hollis will say when Dru-Ann says, Brooke kissed me in the parking lot of Sophie T’s. With tongue! She chuckles as she pictures
the expression on Hollis’s face.
This weekend is just full of surprises.
