Page 129 of Close Match

“Petrified,” I admit. Bristol laughs softly. Simon guffaws. As a result, their son jolts awake.

“Well then, since you’re here, you can put him down again. The nanny’s tried twice,” Bristol says with a touch of bitterness to her husband.

“Because singing this little man to sleep is such a problem.” Simon reaches over and takes the baby from his wife. She touches her free fingers to her lips.

“It is when you can’t sing your way out of a bad karaoke bar. Did Linnie ever share that’s one of the things they tested on our DNA tests?” Bristol’s whiplash change of subject makes my head spin. “That and they check to see if we’ll flush if we drink alcohol. Do you know if you do?”

Ah. Now I get it. “I think I learned to tolerate so much of it that I might have broken the test.”

“And now?” She crosses her arms akimbo.

“I suspect the results would be more accurate, but I don’t plan on finding out the traditional way. Maybe I’ll take the test for my year sobriety.”

Her lips curve. “I think that’s a great idea.”

A nervous laugh escapes me just as the door flies open, almost catching me in the back. And there she is, triumphant from the night of success. Her eyes are just as I remember them before I let the alcohol take my hand instead of the woman I love.

She’s the only star I’ve ever genuinely wished upon. And now that alcohol isn’t causing a haze over my memory, she’s brighter than I remember, more vivid. What else was dulled about our relationship due to the bottle? And will I get a chance to find out?

Linnie breezes by me to be enveloped in Bristol’s arms. Simon beams at both of them but doesn’t stop crooning to the baby in his arms.

“I am so proud of you.” Bristol buries her head against Linnie’s shoulder.

“I sure as hell didn’t do this alone,” Linnie says.

“No, but it was your idea to do something more. It didn’t have to be this,” Bristol counters. “You took a stand. You believed. You opened your heart. You always do.” Her eyes drift over her sister’s shoulder to me. “And it looks like it might have paid off.”

“Your instincts were right on.” Simon’s sitting; his hand gently rubbing his son’s head as he cradles him. “If we can help prevent one more family from being hurt the way ours was…”

“Then it was worth it,” Linnie concludes as she pulls away from her sister. Slowly, she turns. I hold my breath as she walks toward me and holds out her hand just like she did when she was singing. Like I’m in a trance, I lift mine toward hers. “How many days has it been since you’ve last had a drink?” she calmly asks me as our fingers touch. That spark, the one that pulled us together from the very first moment, ignites.

“One hundred eighty-three days, twelve hours, and—” I look away to check my watch. “—sixteen minutes. But that’s just from the time I woke up in the hospital. I don’t count the time I was blacked out before that. That’s how long it’s been since I woke up and realized my life was over.”

“That’s not when your life was over, Monty. That’s when your life started again.”

Shuddering, my voice cracks when I get out, “You’re right.”

“Are you planning on drinking tomorrow?” No quarter given, but I don’t deserve any after what she’s been through.

I shake my head. “No. Nor the day after that.” I’m firm in my declaration.

“Then let’s celebrate tonight, and we’ll just…see.” As she turns to talk with her sister and brother-in-law again, I know I didn’t imagine the way her pulse fluttered in her neck.

Maybe it’s just left overexcitement from tonight.

Or maybe I’m being granted one final wish upon a star.

Eighty-Two

Montague

It’s hours later. I’ve been on the outskirts watching Linnie celebrate with the rest of the cast. Euphoria and exhaustion are warring for equal time on her beautiful face. Tonight wasn’t just about putting on a charity show; it was about exposing her soul for the world to see. She’s pushed herself beyond her limits and can’t say no. She’s thinner than she was, more drawn. She’s lost a part of herself and hasn’t had a chance to recharge to be who needs to be.

It’s my turn to try to be a hero if only for a little while.

Stepping up behind her, I gently lay my hand at the small of her back. She jumps but not noticeably. “Didn’t you mention something about Simon and Bristol’s?” I say, being deliberately vague.

The look she shoots me is laced with gratitude. “Yes. I’m sorry, everyone, but I have to go. We’re late.”