The wind got knocked out of Brandon as Stanley proposed. When it returned, and he felt himself breathing again, the air was tainted with offense and disgust.
Brandon watched in horror as Erica accepted the flimsy proposal and felt bile rise in him at the sight of their mutual joy.
He couldn’t believe his eyes. He even blinked them a few times and wriggled his toes to make sure he hadn’t drifted off into some strange daydream.
This can’t be happening. Not his Erica. Not to this guy.
What kind of ring was that, anyway? What a tiny little joke.
He wondered if Stanley was packing like the ring, and if Erica was satisfied.
Why are you thinking that? She’s like a sister to you, for Christ’s sake!
But by now he knew he was lying to himself. He wanted Erica in the biblical sense. He pulsated with a need for carnal knowledge of her, wanting to touch all parts of her body and run his tongue down her smooth skin, ram it down her throat. Brandon yearned to put his mouth over her nipples, dip his fingers between her legs and tease her with all of his tips—his fingertips, the tip of his tongue, the head of his…
“Brandon?” he heard as if from far away. Then he realized Jennifer had squeezed his thigh, breaking the bubble of the sexualized violence swelling in him.
He turned to smile at her briefly.
“So,” he said, looking back at Erica. “Any idea of a date?”
Erica shook her lovely head, her eyes sparkling. He hated how happy she looked.
“No idea whatsoever. What do you think, babe?” she said, looking at Stanley.
Brandon bristled at the word, and even more at the way they looked at each other.
Stanley shrugged. “All up to you.”
Her smile widened.
Brandon forced himself to smile, too. “Champagne is obviously in order,” he said, getting a server’s attention. “And how about another treat from the dessert menu? Come on, Erica, you know how much you like chocolate cake.”
Erica shook her head. “Thank you, but I’ve grown past that.”
Brandon felt personally insulted, however irrational. Besides, who the hell grows past chocolate cake? What a silly thing to say.
He glanced at Jennifer and noticed her looking ridiculously happy for the couple. What was up with that? She didn’t know any of them like that to be so delirious with joy. Was she drunk?
“You take care of her,” he said to Stanley, despite feeling dried up, surprised the words even managed to make it out of his suddenly parched mouth.
Stanley locked eyes with him and said, “I will.”
Brandon wondered if he was seeing things or if there was a flash of a challenge or warning in his eyes and tone. Some sort of assault.
To make things worse, Erica was barely even looking at him; she only glanced between that flimsy ring and Stanley.
“Oh, I’m so happy for them. I know I don’t know them that well, but how can you not be happy for a couple like that so obviously in love? They make such a cute couple too, don’t they? I mean they look good together, they complement each other, they have so many things in common—both being in the movie industry and all. Even the things they don’t have in common work for them. God, did you see the way he looks at her? Every woman wants to be looked at like that. Don’t you think your friend found herself a good man?”
Brandon felt Jennifer’s eyes burning into him, but it was too much to ask of him to play along.
Why didn’t she just shut up, anyway? Like she said, she didn’t know either Erica or Stanley to be spending this chunk of her life yapping on about them.
“Brandon, are you okay? You don’t seem happy about this at all.”
“I just can’t believe that guy. I mean, how tacky was that, using my restaurant location for a proposal? What a cheapskate. A leech. What an unimaginative…”
“Brandon, come on. Not everyone can afford your luxuries—why shouldn’t he seize the moment at a chance like that? It’s not like he did it deliberately to spite you or disrespect you or anything.”
“Yeah? Well, I feel pretty damned disrespected.”
“I mean, I can sort of get that, but it still doesn’t explain why you’re this mad. And don’t you dare deny it—it’s all over you; I wish you could see yourself. You should be happy for her. Why are you so angry? Why does this whole thing bother you?”
“This is just too soon!”
He saw Jennifer frown out of the corner of his eye.
“Too soon? Sounds like they’ve known each other two or three years. You went to her graduation three years ago, didn’t you? And she and Stanley met some months later? In what world is that too soon? Or is it just too soon for you? Is there something going on here I should know about? Do you have feelings for her?”
“Don’t be silly, Jennifer—of course not; she’s like a sister to me. What you picked up on is the kind of resentment that comes from having to share something dear to you—the proprietary feelings family and best friends get. People feel this way about cars and video games—it’s not that serious. I almost didn’t want to take them to that restaurant ‘cause I feel like it’s kind of mine. So yeah, I guess feelings, but not like you’re thinking. I saw her naked when she was four, for Christ’s sake—when she ran out of the house giggling, and her mom ran out after her looking horrified.”
Brandon grinned at the memory.
“My mom and I had been just about to go inside, but I took my clothes off and joined her ‘cause she looked so happy. So free.” He let out a breath, and the silence stretched on for a few moments. “You’re right,” he said finally. “It feels too soon to me because I just found her again, and for a good chunk of our lives, I’ve looked after her, and now I can’t do anything. She doesn’t care what I think anymore.”
Jennifer’s sympathy was palpable.
“I’m sure she does, Brandon—part of her probably still looks up to you. But she made the right decision for a part of her life you can’t be involved in. There’s a line somewhere, Brandon, and you’re nearing it. Unless you know her fiancé is some drug lord, ax murderer or philanderer with multiple venereal diseases, or that he beats women, children and puppies with crowbars, you need to back off.”
She paused.
“This might seem silly to you, but when I first saw her, I was a bit jealous. Of course, when I saw what a contented couple she and Stanley made, I realized I had gotten all worried for nothing. But you can’t blame me, right? I mean, she’s so pretty. Like, in a way you don’t see every day or even once a week. Like Halle Berry with hazel eyes.”
Brandon glanced at her. Was she insane?
“She looks nothing like Halle Berry,” he said.
“No, but I mean that type, you know? Like, Rihanna. Really pretty in a kind of exotic way.”
Brandon shook his head, wondering what she was getting at. He decided he didn’t have the patience to deal with it at the moment—his head was too full of other issues.
“Yes, she’s really pretty, but you know what else? She’s a nice person. She’s always been a good friend to me, kind and gentle. She used to love babysitting, too—she loved kids. I always thought she’d be a kindergarten teacher or something because of the way she was. She’ll probably be a great mom someday. Anyway, she’ll need to toughen up out here, and I hope Stanley can help her with that.”
Silence passed between them for a few moments.
Then Jennifer said, “What did you and Erica talk about outside?”
“Similar to what we’re talking about now. I expressed my disapproval of Stanley, and Erica chastised me for it. Of course, I reminded her I only had her best interests at heart, and she was all ‘I’m not so sure about that.’” Brandon paused, realizing he didn’t need to be too honest about it or go into too much detail. “I mean, he’s too old for her, right? Look, I took this girl out to senior prom and when I went to pick her up at her house, before she came down, her dad chatted with me with a shotgun in his hand. I guess I get it now, you know? I just wanted Stanley to know not to fuck with her, not to hurt her. That’s basically what I told her I was doing when she thought I was trying to ruffle Stanley.”
“But you can see how much Stanley loves her, can’t you? You should be relieved she found someone who loves her like that.”
“I just don’t really know him! I don’t know his ulterior motives or anything. He could be a great actor for all I know.”
“But whose fault is that? You might have known more or had more influence if you had kept in contact with her, but you didn’t.”
Brandon felt stung. Then he said, “You’re absolutely right.”
“Of course I am. If she had sprung this on you while you guys were still close, maybe you would’ve had the right to feel the way you do. But the way I see it, this isn’t your business anymore. She’s a grown woman now—not some green teenager. I commend you for your concern, but again, clearly the couple is happy, and they’re good for each other. And Erica has already made up her mind, most importantly. Don’t you realize? If you don’t back off and respect her choices, you risk losing her again. Come down too hard and she’ll back away, and all this reconciliation would be in vain.” She put her hand over his and said softly, “She knows exactly what she’s doing, Brandon. You have to trust her.”
But despite her gentle, supporting words and all the reason they seemed to be dipped in, as Jennifer yapped on and on, his mind kept churning, illness refusing to leave his stomach. His mouth couldn’t force out one more smile.
Brandon nodded to everything Jennifer said, but no matter how soothing, encouraging, or understanding her words were supposed to be, he could no longer process them. He couldn’t get past the one thought that kept churning in his head, spreading and permeating his heart and every fiber of his being, getting louder and louder, vibrating and reverberating: stop Stanley.