Maine - J. Courtney Sullivan [189]
Kathleen looked down at her watch. When she looked up, she noticed her brother’s friend, Steve Brewer, standing two lines over. She hoped he wouldn’t see her. She wasn’t interested in making small talk with anyone who would consciously choose to socialize with her brother and sister-in-law.
Right on cue, she saw Ann Marie come through a wall of people. She was wobbling, and she looked plain drunk. Not tipsy, or just over the limit. Drunk. Some tiny part of Kathleen had softened to her sister-in-law this week. It had probably started with Ann Marie trampling Alice’s tomato plants, and her all-out meltdown around the priest. You couldn’t exactly wish more unhappiness on somebody who was so clearly coming undone, even if she was your mortal enemy.
Ann Marie approached Steve with a smile and said something to him. She fingered his lapel. Her face was dangerously close to his, as if they were two lovers about to kiss. As the thought struck Kathleen, she saw her sister-in-law lean forward and plant her lips on his.
“Oh my God,” Kathleen said out loud, putting a hand over her mouth, feeling almost giddy, as if she were watching the season finale of her favorite soap opera. Her sister-in-law was having an affair with her neighbor’s husband. It was almost too good. She had a momentary vision of all of them squeezed together, watching the fireworks, and hearing herself say, So, Ann Marie and Steve—when did you two get together?
She remembered when she had found out about Paul’s infidelity all those years ago, Ann Marie self-righteously saying, “I think you’d better take it up with your husband.”
How stupid she had felt then. How powerless. And now this. Maybe if you only waited long enough, all your life’s wrongs would right themselves one way or another.
But then, quite suddenly, Steve pulled away. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she understood from his expression that he had been taken by surprise, and not in a good way. The two of them exchanged words, and he stormed off, leaving Ann Marie standing in place, in tears. Some gentleman, abandoning a clearly intoxicated woman in the middle of a crowd.
Kathleen instantly felt sorry for Ann Marie. It was the excruciating expression on her face that did it, a look of embarrassment, shame. Kathleen felt a sense of pride, realizing that that was all she wanted. Not to hold it over Ann Marie’s head as some sort of threat, but just knowing that Ann Marie herself knew she was not perfect.
At that moment, Ann Marie saw her. Shit. Kathleen almost hoped she would walk away, but instead Ann Marie came toward her.
“Oh God, please, Kathleen, don’t tell Patrick what you just saw.”
Ann Marie spoke in a rush, sounding desperate.
Kathleen had to remind herself that Ann Marie was drunk; that was probably part of it. She felt like being kind. Not her Kelleher self but that other, better version of her she thought she had left behind on the farm.
“I didn’t see anything,” she said. “I’m just waiting for Maggie to get out of that disgusting bathroom. She’s been in there for ages.”
Ann Marie looked skeptical.
“Please,” she said again. “I can explain what that was.”
Maggie finally came out of the Porta-Potty then, thank the universe.
“Here she comes,” Kathleen said, waving to her. She wanted to make it clear that she posed no threat. She put on her sweetest voice, the type she’d use with a school superintendent she wanted to charm. “Now, where are you guys sitting and what did you bring for dessert?”
The rest of the night whizzed by, Kathleen feeling almost giddy. For all time, she would now be the bigger person. Goddamn, it felt good. She talked to that slimy Steve about golf and