Bird in Hand - Christina Baker Kline [12]
“No roller coasters, I hope.”
“Oh, definitely roller coasters. Cocktails and roller coasters. How great would that be?”
She laughed.
“So did you come alone?” he asked. “Where’s the ball and chain?”
“He had to stay home,” Alison said. “A minor domestic crisis.”
“Nothing dire, I hope.”
“No, just … ” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. He wanted to come.”
No point in belaboring it, Ben thought. “Well, tell him he was missed.”
“I will,” she said. “Who are these people?”
“Let’s see,” he said, looking around. “Editorial assistants, publicists, media types, relatives. All here for the free drinks.”
“Do you know everybody?”
“Just the relatives.”
“I used to love these parties,” she said. “I guess I’m out of practice.”
“It’s all publicity, anyway. We’re just stage props for the marketing team.”
“No, we’re here to celebrate Claire’s achievement.”
“It’s only an achievement if it translates into sales,” he said.
“That’s a little cynical, isn’t it?”
“Is it? You know the business better than I do.”
“All right,” she said. “So—I assume you’ve read it?”
“Of course. Have you?”
She shook her head.
“It’s pretty good. There is this annoying character named Jill, but other than that … ” He grinned. “Look, it’s a novel and all. But you don’t come off too badly. In case you’re wondering.”
Was it his imagination, or was Alison blushing? She took a sip of her drink and cocked her head to the side, as if she were trying to decide what to say. “Ben, can I ask you something? Do you … ” She stopped. Her cheeks were flushed. “Do you know about this—this thing Claire and I had a few months ago? It wasn’t a big deal—or at least I didn’t think it was. But we haven’t really spoken since.”
He nodded. “I heard something.”
“I guess I really hurt her feelings. I must have.”
“Don’t assume that. Frankly, I wouldn’t take it personally. She’s been crazed with this book stuff. We’ve barely had a conversation in the past few weeks, and I live with the woman.”
“Well, okay,” she said. “It’s just not pleasant to be—estranged, you know?”
In that moment he sensed Alison’s vulnerability, as deep and raw as a wound. It wasn’t just being alone at a party, or being at odds with Claire; it was something more. She might not have known it yet, but it seemed to Ben that she was deeply unhappy. And in some way, impossible to articulate, even to himself, Ben felt linked to Alison in this, as if his fortune and hers were entwined.
“I do know,” he said.
Chapter Four
By the time Alison did, finally, talk to Claire, the party had thinned and the bartenders were loading dirty stemware into plastic rental crates.
“I’ve been trying to get over to you all night,” Claire exclaimed, an obvious lie that Alison was content to accept. Claire pushed the hair out of her face and exhaled, blowing air across her lower lip, as if now, finally, she could relax. “Have you talked to my mother? Does she know you’re here?”
“We said a quick hello,” Alison said. “We’ve both been … ” She waved her hand around to indicate a flurry of activity. In fact, she had been avoiding Claire’s mother all evening, and she suspected that Claire’s mother had been avoiding her. Lucinda’s quiet diffidence had always depressed her; Alison rarely knew what to say. Alison had always thought that they recognized in each other certain personality traits, such as timidity and passive aggression, that neither of them particularly admired. Their orbiting Claire this evening only accentuated their similarities.
“Did you have a good time?” Claire asked suddenly. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused. She reminded Alison of a birthday kid after blowing out the candles, exhausted from being the center of attention for too long.
“It was a great party,” Alison said, with genuine feeling—it had been a great party. “Did you enjoy it?” This was where their relationship was now—somewhat formal, and yet still, somehow, intimate. Alison didn’t know if Claire had had a good time, but she felt entitled, even obligated, to ask.
“I did,” Claire said, as if she were surprised to say so. “Though it’s weird