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When I blink, I see the two of them, thirty years ago. Teenagers dressed in their parents' finest clothes. Dancing at some cotillion on the pier. They were young and in love once, the way we are.
Love.
The one thing I've never been able to accomplish.
I don't shrink at the word. It feels right. It feels as big and beautiful as the Pacific Ocean.
Is it really possible I've fallen in love with my sister's best friends?
Is it really possible I've fallen in love in a week?
It sounds silly in those terms, of course.
But when I sayis it really possible I fell in love with my wife—
It sounds silly in a different way.
My head spins as Patricia relays the story to Daphne. Once upon a time, she and Alexander's younger brother were best friends. The sort of platonic best friends people say don't exist.
A girl and a guy who do everything together, who have sleepovers and trade secrets, and have absolutely no interest in love.
That's what she thought anyway.
And since she kept coming around to the house to hang out with his family, she developed a crush on Alexander.
One summer, they all spent time by the pool. She spent every afternoon asking him to apply her sunscreen or trying to lick ice cream from a spoon seductively. But it was almost Labor Day, and he hadn't figured it out yet, so she confessed her crush.
The same day, his brother confessed his love for her.
For a while, she thought it was hopeless, and then his brother moved on to someone else. And she and Alexander started seeing each other in secret.
Then out in the open.
There was a happy ending for all of them. The brother is married to someone else now. They have three kids, and they live in California. In Newport Beach, actually.
"But I swear the city isn't named after us." Alexander laughs. He looks to the barbecue. "I forgot to ask if either of you is a vegetarian."
Patricia laughs. "You always do. But we're always prepared. We have portobello mushrooms, zucchini, and veggie burgers."
"No one wants those veggie burgers," he says.
"My sister loves them," Patricia asks.
"Your sister humors you," he says.
She bats her handyou're ridiculous. "How about a drink? Daphne, would you give me a hand?"
"I'd love to." Daphne follows her to the bar inside.
I stay on the grass with Alexander as he surveys the backyard.
His kingdom.
His home.
"Do you like the place?" he asks.
"It's beautiful," I say.
