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A moment later, Lydia appeared, and Jade, right behind her, was holding a gift that Lydia had just given to her.  It was wrapped in a horrible red paper, as horrible as Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s yellow wallpaper.  It was a sickly scarlet red, red enough to make you angry and crazy, with thin lime colored lines running in abstract patterns throughout it.  Jade put the gift atop the white present from Laura and Danny.  Aaron, as still and lifeless as a whore, didn’t move when Jade came into the room.  Jade didn’t look at him.  Then, as Jade and Lydia left the kitchen, Jade turned to look at Aaron, and she slid a finger across her throat.  Aaron was left in the kitchen, alone.  He looked to the window again.  A less fearful person would have done it.  Any person who could read the writing on the wall would have jumped.  But Aaron was never the most cognizant of his situation (i.e. driving the wrong way on one-way streets, staring at maps in foreign city ghettoes, locking himself out of the house) and he stood rooted to the linoleum next to a long counter of fruits, snacks, and fancy hors d’ouevres. 

          From the kitchen, Aaron could hear Laura, Lydia, and Jade talking.  The voices floated through the doorway. 

          “How many people are you expecting,” Laura was asking. 

          “Oh, fifteen or twenty,” Jade replied.

          “I wish they’d show up on time,” Lydia said.  “It’s not right for people to be late.  They’re holding up the show.”

          “There’s no show to hold up,” Laura said.  “Is there, Jade?”

          “Oh, I don’t know.”

          “By my watch, they’ve got thirty seconds to be here until they’re late,” Lydia said, looking at her watch.

          “Oh, I’m sure they’ll be all right if they’re a little late,” said Laura, already a bit exhasperated, predicting Lydia’s behavior. 

          “Twenty-five.”

          “Lydia, it doesn’t matter.  It’s a party.”

          “Twenty.”

          “Jade, do you care if anybody’s late to your party?”

          Jade shook her head, amused.

          “Jade doesn’t care, Lydia.”

          “Fifteen.”

          “Whatever,” Laura said, looking at the ceiling.  “I’m going to grab a beer, okay, Jade?”

          “In the kitchen.”

          “Ten.”

          Laura left for the kitchen, passing Aaron who was sitting in the chair.  “You doing all right, hon?  You don’t look so well.  You’re looking a little pale.”

          “Five,” came Lydia’s voice from the living room.  Aaron craned his head.  Everyone was staring at Lydia.  Danny was giggling and gesturing wildly to Jake behind Lydia’s back, and Jake wore a wide grin.  Jade was watching Lydia as if she was a comedy show. 

          “Four.  Three.  Two.  One.  Late!  They’re late!”

          “God, I hate that woman,” Laura said quietly to Aaron.  “I don’t know what Jade sees in her.”

Aaron nodded congenially, trying to brighten his appearance.  “Beer’s in the fridge.” 

          Laura opened the refridgerator door.  “I don’t see it.”  Laura timidly pushed a bit of food out of the way, not wanting to shuffle too much in someone else’s refridgerator.

          “It’s in the ice chest,” Jade called from the other room. 

          “Oh,” said Aaron vacantly as Laura shut the door.  “Jade must have put it in the ice chest.”

          “Thanks, Aaron.”

          “Hello?” called some voices, and a whole troop of guests marched in—Sammy among them, having brought along a pretty girl with sparkling eyes—and all of them unaware of Lydia’s keen glare. 

          “Put your presents in the kitchen,” Jade said.  “And then, if you would, come back into the living room.  I’ve got an announcement to make.”

          Aaron looked into the living room, where Jade was standing.  Jade had begun to tremble.   She had a wine glass in her hand—empty—and her white t-shirt that said, “Remember Alice,” said it all. 

          “Jade?”  Aaron stood up, and he walked over to her.  “Don’t do this baby.  We can work it out.  We can work it out.  Let’s talk about this tomorrow.” 

          “Get away from me,” she said, starting to cry now. 

          “Jade?” Laura came in and put her hand on Jade’s elbow, but Jade ripped her arm away.  The guests, who had come expecting merriment and festivities (maybe seeing somebody kiss? perhaps someone would get too drunk? perhaps juicy gossip would spring out, at somebody else’s expense? People can only hope.) at their friends’ tenth wedding anniversary, looked at each other with raised eyebrows.  They shrugged their shoulders and whispered to one another.  The Wallace’s friends gathered like sharks. 

6

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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