Rebound (2 page)

Kevin stopped just
outside the door of the vestibule, not wanting to look at Susan so
hurt, but unable to stay away. There had to be some way he could
help her. And with that hope he walked back into the room again and
gently kissed the back of Susan’s now veil-less neck.

He looked Liz square
in the eye and said, “Let’s get her out of here.”

* * * *

Liz turned out to be
a little different than Kevin had remembered. In college she was
manipulative, eerily observant, and an outright bitch...at least to
him. In truth, maybe she saw what he couldn’t ’fess up to. He was
holding on, waiting pathetically for a chance to pounce on a
vulnerable moment. But since Kevin had forced himself to keep an
ever-so-slight distance from Susan right after each of her three
breakups before they graduated, Kevin felt Liz’s assessment of him
was ludicrous. Of course Liz had never changed her mind about
him.

But now, after all
these years, Kevin couldn’t get over how different Liz was. Her
bluntness that had scorched his fragile ego back at Dartmouth had
evolved into subtle, yet effective, persuasion. She had the
still-comatose Susan changed out of her wedding dress and into
jeans and a t-shirt in no time, and had the bridesmaids toting the
offending dress and the stacks of glittering, pastel-wrapped
wedding gifts off to her own apartment. A wise move, since they
were taking Susan back to her apartment.

Luckily Mark and
Susan had not formally moved in together, be it for practical or
superstitious reasons. At first Susan’s stillness seemed to allude
to an inner calm. But as Liz boiled water for tea, and Kevin moved
Susan’s already-packed honeymoon luggage away from the door and
into the adjoining closet, she disappeared.

Liz headed straight
to the bathroom. Kevin knew Susan was in pain, maybe more than he
could help her with. Even though he wanted to help, his body was
still reticent about what to do. Slowly, he moved into the
bedroom.

He made out Susan’s
shrinking form on the bed, her arms wrapping around her knees as
she pulled them to her chest. She lay there, her face blank, her
eyes trained on the darkened eighth story windows.

Liz stood silent by
Kevin’s side for a few beats before she took him by the wrist and
drew him from the room, closing the door gently until it was a mere
crack.

Kevin was rather
stunned she had touched him. The action was far more intimate than
he had ever imagined Liz capable of performing. She pulled him away
from the bedroom door and out to Susan’s clean, yet not often used
kitchen. She let go abruptly with a flourish of her hand, as if
touching him were some vulgar, repulsive task. When she turned to
him, there it was, the always present rebuff still there, even
after five years.

The old Liz came
shining right through. Kevin cringed as he imagined what blistering
accusations were building up behind those frosty blue eyes. Would
she insult him outright? Maybe chastise him like an adolescent for
still harboring such pathetic thoughts?

Her hands on her
hips, her jaw moved in slow motion from left to right, as if she
were literally chewing her scorching words up before she spit them
at him. Her jaw un-clinched, her eyes rolled up to stare at Susan’s
stucco ceiling, and the viscous breath in her lungs expelled in a
haughty sigh.

“So what the fuck are
we gonna do?”

“We?” Kevin said,
stepping forward a few inches and tilting his head as if he’d heard
her wrong.

Liz grabbed a bottle
of red wine that had been left out on the counter, and pulled two
wine glasses from the rack above her head. Popping the cork, she
poured a drink for each of them. She chugged her first glass,
pouring herself a second when she motioned like a testy Vanna White
for Kevin to take his.

“
Of
course
we
!” She rasped,
chuckling with a hollow almost scary sound. “We can’t ask shit-head
Mark to take care of her.” Kevin smiled ruefully at the fact he and
Liz had the same pet name for Mark. “And you know her mother will
sweep in any time now to smother her.” She looked hard into Kevin’s
eyes. “You remember her mother, don’t you?”

All too well, Kevin
thought as he nodded.

* * * *

Their senior year at
Dartmouth Susan’s mother called relentlessly, checking on both
Susan’s grades, which were top of her class, as well as the state
of her virginity, which was by then fictitious. Not that Susan had
been promiscuous. She’d had three boyfriends in college, yet only
slept with one of them. But since that had happened at the
beginning of senior year, Susan had been forced to lie to her
mother for the rest of the scholastic year.

Until spring
break.

On spring break,
Susan reluctantly went home and spent copious amounts of time
shopping, listening to and eating out with her mother and her near
perfect suburban housewife friends. It had left Susan so mentally
numb that on the day she drove back to school, she absently left
her birth control pills lying on the nightstand beside her unmade
bed.

Liz and Kevin awaited
Susan in the lobby of their dormitory, wanting to warn her that her
mother was up in her room, having beaten her daughter to the
college by a full hour. Kevin had been there waiting, “Like a
pathetic dog,” as Liz had put it, for Susan’s return. Mrs. Rhodes
barged into the room, mistaking Kevin for Liz’s boyfriend. Liz had
scoffed bitterly and informed Mrs. Rhodes that Kevin was Susan’s
friend, not hers.

Mrs. Rhodes’s eyes
bugged out, and she had practically thrown Kevin from the room,
squawking indignantly as she slammed the door in his confused
face.

Ten minutes later,
Liz escaped Mrs. Rhodes’s inquisition. She looked like she’d been
through hell. But when Kevin asked, “What was that all about?” her
expression lifted into a satisfied grin.

“The old bat thought
you were Susan’s boyfriend.” She snickered as she made quotation
marks with her fingers. Shaking her head she continued, “What a
laugh. I don’t know what has her panties in such a bunch, but I set
her straight about you.”

Kevin could recall
the exact feeling of hot embarrassment those words had evoked,
making his face burn with shame. “What, did you tell her I was some
kind of stalker?”

Liz let out one
perfect “Ha!” and strode past Kevin, toward the elevators. “The
truth would just make her freak out more.”

“So what did you tell
her?” Kevin’s eyebrows bunched with confusion.

“Just you’re Susan’s
gay friend, Kevin. And you’re dating the captain of the football
team.”

Kevin had halted in
his tracks right before the elevator doors and stood staring
incredulously at Liz until they slid open. She sauntered brightly
into the wood paneled box, turned and smirked at him. The nastiest
retorts imaginable circled in Kevin’s mind, forming a tornado
funnel on the tip of his tongue, leaving him with too many things
to say. Yet he said nothing.

Liz had raised her
eyebrow and grinned. “You should be thanking me. At least I saved
you from a shit-load of getting bitched at.”

And from any shred of
masculine pride he had left.

Liz rolled her eyes.
“Are you getting on? Or did I hurt your sensitive little girl
feelings?”

“Fuck you,” Kevin
said through gritted teeth.

“In your dreams.” The
satisfaction in her voice was maddening. “But…way to grow a
pair.”

* * * *

“I remember her
mother,” Kevin said as he gulped down his wine and motioned for Liz
to pour him another. “She was crazed. I thought she was going to
have a goddamn stroke over it.”

“Feel sorry for me,”
Liz said. “I was the one fielding all her phone calls every day and
putting up with her every weekend for a month!” She smiled at Kevin
and raised her glass. “Thank God the only male she ever found
loitering around her little girl was the nerdy gay friend, or she
would’ve been on our backs ’til graduation!”

Kevin winced at her
toast, yet shook off the barb and raised his own glass.

Neither took a drink
though. The tintinnabulation seemed to break the revelry of their
shared memory.

“Seriously…” Liz’s
voice cracked. “What are we going to do? We can’t just leave her
here--she’s a mess. And if we stay here, Mommy Dearest is going to
descend like the fucking troops on Normandy!”

“Your place?” Kevin
said.

“That’s where all the
wedding gifts and that fucking dress are.”

“Not your place.
So...a hotel?”

“You got a room?” She
perked up.

“No. I wasn’t
planning on sticking around. Just brought a change of clothes and
my toothbrush.”

Liz shot Kevin an
unfathomable look.

“So sue me, I wasn’t
gonna stick around for the after party. My flight leaves in two
hours.”

“Well, cancel it!
You’re not going anywhere.”

“Wasn’t planning to.
Not now, anyway.”

Liz bit her lip.
“Unfortunately, I already called in all the favors from guys
wanting to fuck me to get rooms for Susan’s family. The rest of the
city’s booked solid for some god-awful Mary Kay convention. You
never saw so many fake blond housewives driving pink Cadillacs in
your life.”

An idea shimmered in
Kevin’s mind. Something Tim, the loaded groomsman had said...

“Mark maxxed out his
credit cards booking their honeymoon in Cancun.”

Liz and Kevin looked
at each other with blank stares for a long beat, and then they both
smiled with too much satisfaction.

Chapter 2

Turned out the
tickets for the flight to Cancun were lying right on top of Susan’s
luggage. A quick call to the airline and Liz confirmed the tickets
hadn’t been cancelled. After she’d called, Kevin gathered Susan’s
bags and his own flimsy gym bag, and dragged them downstairs to be
watched over by Lou, the building’s ancient yet all-seeing
doorman.

Susan had told him
that Lou no longer opened the door, but kept a watchful, though
admittedly myopic, eye on the comings and goings. And if you needed
anything, he was the man to ask. He’d found Susan a date for a
company retreat last year. He’d found Liz a surfboard in the middle
of winter so she could live out a Beach Blanket Bingo fantasy orgy
with three strapping members of the Olympic Gold Medal water polo
team.

Kevin’s request was
much simpler. “Hail us a cab that will get us to the airport in
record time.”

“When you come back
down, your taxi will be waiting.”

Kevin went back
upstairs and found Liz trying to get a comatose-looking Susan out
of the bed and onto her feet. Kevin swooped in, scooping Susan up
and carrying her to the front door. “Gotta get going if we’re all
going to make it on the flight.” He gave Liz a pointed look. “We
have just enough time to stop by your place so you can do a quick
packing job.”

Liz smiled wanly.
“I’m not going.”

“What!” Kevin yelled
so loud Susan’s eyes almost focused as she looked right through
him.

“I’ve got Curtis
Browning showing his new collection in three days. It’s guaranteed
to be the highlight of the season.”

“And that’s more
important than your best friend!”

Her look was cross.
“Don’t be an idiot. Susan’s more important than some middle-aged
Picasso’s second coming, but if I ever want his caliber of showing
again, I have to be here. I own the gallery, Kevin, so it’s not
just my job, it’s my entire future.”

Kevin shifted his
weight uncomfortably, yet never even jostled the woman in his arms.
“I get it. But I don’t know if I...”

“Of course you can,”
Liz whispered, her pale blue eyes too understanding. “You love her,
don’t you?”

Kevin felt his face
go slack. His mind turned blank and numb.

“Okay, that was a low
blow,” Liz said. “But you can take her down there now. I’d have to
wait a week. And even if I could go down with you two now, there
aren’t any flights open for four days...I checked.”

Kevin leaned his head
back and stared at the ceiling, blowing out air in a low
whistle.

“It’s only for a
week, you pussy!” Liz exhorted. “Then I’ll be down to take over, so
you can go have a mental breakdown or something.”

Kevin laughed.
“Mental breakdown?”

Liz raised her
eyebrow slyly, pursing her lips. “After a week of listening to her
talk about losing...” Liz started whispering again. “M-A-R-K.” As
if spelling it would keep Susan from comprehending. “What the hell
do you think you’ll want to do?”

Kevin looked down at
Susan’s vacant expression and thought about how she’d been telling
him the relentless, gruesome details of her love life for the past
five years. This could be very bad, he told himself.

“Yeah, you taking
over in a week is a really good idea.”

“That’s a good boy,”
she said, her tone placating. Kevin was about to tell her she was a
bitch when she swiftly scooted around him and opened the door. “We
better hurry.”

When they got
downstairs Lou had a taxi waiting at the curb outside Susan’s
apartment building, all the luggage already stowed in its trunk,
and was standing there--at long last--holding the door, his
expression turning from merely polite to fatherly worried.

Liz stopped for a
moment and uncharacteristically threw her arms around the aging
doorman. “She’ll be fine. We’re taking care of her.” She pulled
away to look deep into Lou’s eyes. “You know what to do about the
locks...and if he shows up?”

Lou’s polite
reserve returned as he smiled at Liz. “The locks will be changed
before you arrive at the airport. I’ll have...
him
arrested for trespassing if he dares shows his
face.”