The food I made was a success, and a couple of people asked for the recipes. I sent them to Amelie. Maybe that convinces her the cookbook is a good idea. The shade from the house hasn't reached the table we're sitting at yet. Linda squints as she works on the giraffe on her onesie.

The grey-green amoeba on the onesie in front of me doesn't look like a Triceratops. I add darker green triangles where its large bony frill should be, but those spread into smaller dark green amoebas. Now it looks like a plate of peas.

"So embarrassing. I haven't recognized her, but she said Am, and I've only known her as Amelie. She looks so different now, so grown-up. She's what, a couple of years older than us? Made me think about my age. I better put more sunscreen on."

Linda massages the whitish substance into her long arms and legs. "Could you do my back, please?" She passes the container to me and I smear a glob that comes out across the taut skin of her pronounced shoulder blades, tan after her Greece vacation.

"Thank you, baby. I don't want to get leathery." Linda picks up our onesies and puts them up against my white shirt, pinning each one to my chest with her fingers. "Do you think my onesie will win? I took a peek into the goody bags, and I want one."

"The giraffe is recognizable." I move her fingers off me and lean away. "I'd like to talk to you."

"What do you want to talk to me about, baby?" Linda puts her hand on my shoulder and massages it. I've found Linda's touch equally neutral as those of my other dates after Am. Today, Linda's constant touching builds a buzz of discomfort across my skin. I look up at Linda and behind her I see Amelie walking inside the house with Angie. I get up, and Linda's hand slides off me.

"In private," I say.

"Oh, in private. I like the sound of that. Let me give Tall the onesies, baby. I'm set on winning this one."

***

Angie's lying down on the couch, and her face looks as white as the leather couch she's on.

"Are you OK? Do you need anything?" I walk over to Angie.

"Don't mind me. I'm taking a little break from the heat and the chairs."

"I can ask Mike to come in."

"No need."

Linda puts away her phone when I'm back by her side. Instead of my original plan of taking her to my office, I continue past it, up the stairs, and into the gaming room. I don't want anyone overhearing us.

Linda walks right up to me and brings her hands to my chest. I step away, letting them fall.

"It's about our agreement," I say.

"Our agreement?"

"Our sex agreement."

"Oh, that agreement. What about it?"

"I'd like to terminate it. I'm interested in someone else, and I want to pursue her. That was one of the clauses for terminating our agreement."

"Of course, I remember." Linda turns away, walks over, and touches the back of one floor gaming chair and then the other, making them rock. "I've never presumed we'd be a couple, and I have no claim on you." She pauses. "I do need your help, though. I told you I had something to share with you as well."

"What is it?"

"You know I had to extend the visit on my parents' yacht in Greece." She turns back my way, and her eyes are full of tears.

"Yes."

"That was their excuse to get my sister in the same room with me." Linda wipes the tear off her chin but her voice remains steady. "My sister is pregnant. She and my ex-husband are getting married. And we have to present a united front to the media and pretend that she did not steal him from me. I'm going to be the Matron of Honor. The wedding is in three weeks. In New York."

Linda's husband cheating on her was why she first invited me to her place and brought up the friends-with-benefits idea. After our first time, it was clear I could learn from her. I did not dislike Linda. She's well-read, and she is conventionally pretty. It was easy to say, yes.

With Linda, sex was like eating a solid meal and feeling sated. With Amelie sex was like consuming the food you've been craving for a long time, feeling sated but unable to stop yourself from eating more.

"I sort of lost it and told them you'd have to be in the wedding party as well." Linda's tears keep rolling down her cheeks. She's pretty even when she cries. "I hoped you'd come and help me look like I'm not alone and have someone who loves me."

"But I don't love you," I say.

"Oh well, they don't need to know that. A little white lie never hurt anyone. Just arrive with me and stay there for three days, and then our agreement is over, and you can pursue whomever you want. Will you help me, Ben? Please?"

I've never seen Linda cry. She's been my friend for a long time, and I don't think a trip to New York in three weeks will make a difference.

"OK," I say.

"Oh, thank you, baby." Linda tries to hug me, but I step away again. My back is touching the window. 

"I'll make sure it's worth it for you. Three days in New York at the end of September will be beautiful, we can do some sightseeing as well and I'll make sure to make reservations at a couple of posh places so you can ask the chefs your sciency questions. We'll make the best of it. It doesn't have to be all about me."

"Should I book a hotel now?"

"Oh no, we'll be staying at my parents' place. They won't have it any other way. I prefer we fly first class if that's OK."

"OK, but we are doing it as friends. No more benefits."

"Are you sure? I don't mind. You know I like our sexy times together. Don't you like it?" Linda's chest is flush with mine, and the smell of her sunscreen makes me nauseous.

"Not anymore. Can you please step away? We need to go back down."

"One more thing," says Linda.

"Can we talk about it later?"

"One more thing, and we can go."

"What is it?"

"Don't tell anyone about our deal and the wedding. I don't want it to leak to the paparazzi. There's going to be a media circus around the wedding. 'The famous supermodel marries her sister's ex' is going to be all over the tabloids the second they find out. Could you do this for me?"

"OK," I say. Linda's reasons are sound.

Linda smiles. Her tears are gone.

A sound of broken glass comes from the yard below. I turn to the window. Mike's sprinting to the patio door, and the rest of the guests flock behind him. Linda peers over my shoulder and I step away, leaving her by the window. I'm at the door and can take a full breath because our bodies do not touch anymore.

"One of the kids might've broken the patio door. You better go check." She takes a step towards me, shakes her head, and pulls out her phone. "You go. Now that we have a plan—I better run home and let you spend time with Angie. I already overstayed. Oh, and, if my onesie wins, save my goodie bag for me, will you?"

***

The patio door is intact, but Tall isn't. The ridiculous three-tier stand is on its side, and the broken pieces of white plates, smashed cupcakes, eclairs, and cannoli are all over the patio. The paver I was going to fix is sticking up. Tall's lying on the ground, and Mike's on the phone next to him.

The chain of events that's lead to Tall's fall is clear. This can't be happening again. And it's all because of the fucking paver. I should've fixed it last night instead of playing with Mike. I should've fixed it last night. I should've fixed it last night.

"Ben, you're here," says Mike. "Can you keep talking to him? Make sure he stays conscious. I'm on the line with 911. They're sending an ambulance."

"OK." I sit down on the threshold and take Tall's hand. Mike's pacing behind me in the living room. How could I've been so careless? My concern for Tall swallows me, and there are no words. The first time I met Tall, he was lying on the sidewalk by my parents' house like this, and people were walking by, not even looking at him. Then it was the ice—now I'm the fucking cause. I should've fixed it last night. I should've fixed it last night.

"Hey, I'm fine. Don't get into your head," says Tall and squeezes my head. "Look at me."

I can't. It's too much. I need to run, but I can't. I should be here. The buzzing in my body and head makes it hard to pay attention to anything else around me. Squeeze—release, squeeze—release, squeeze—release. Tall's hand is squeezing mine in a soothing rhythmic pattern. I focus on the feeling and remember to breathe. I close my eye to minimize the stimuli, and the noisy conversations around me fade away. Squeeze—release, squeeze—release, squeeze—release. I squeeze back once, then again, and our secret way of communication centers me. Squeeze—squeeze, squeeze—squeeze, squeeze—squeeze.

"I'm supposed to take care of you," I tell Tall.

"We take care of each other, my dear boy. Can you look at me now?"

I can, and I do. There's no blood that I can see. Tall's on his side and propping himself on an elbow. The sleeve of his shirt is scoffed but not torn. He smiles at me.

"I might've broken another hip. Now they'll finally match. I will be an Iron-hips man."

"This is not a very funny joke."

"You're supposed to keep me talking. "

"You are talking."

"Ben?"

I turn around. Amelie is holding a pillow my way. I take it and put it under Tall's head, so he can lie down.

"Thank you, my dear," says Tall.

"Ben, Angie needs Mike to take her to the hospital. She's in labor." Amelie sounds calm, so I stay calm. Mike can go with Angie, and I'll go with Tall. We need to tell the guests to go home.

"Can you tell the guests to go home?" I ask her.

"Sure. Let me through." Amelie is trying to wedge her foot between the door and me. "I'll go tell everyone. They can leave through the side gate. Then I need to go to Mike and Angie's place to get her hospital bag unless you want me with you until the ambulance arrives."

I get up and find a spot by Tall outside on the patio that is free of the mixture of shards and desserts.

"We'll be fine," says Tall. "You go take care of Angie." He pauses. "Maybe don't tell her about my fall? No need to worry her? She needs to focus on herself and the baby and not worry about me."

"Good idea," says Amelie. "Let me deal with guests, and I'll leave through the gate as well."

Amelie's sturdy heels crunch on a couple of plate fragments but she's careful to walk around the food. Within minutes the yard is devoid of people. The shade now covers the sparkly grass of the yard littered with flyaway napkins. The empty tables hold paper plates, cups, and unfinished onesies.

"Are you going to try again?" Tall looks at Amelie, closing the gate behind herself. She's gone.

"Do you think it will work this time?"

"You were happy when you were together. And I want to see you happy, my dear boy. You do deserve all the happiness in this world." Tall squeezes my hand again, and this time he doesn't remove it until the loud wail of the sirens enter the neighborhood, and I let of his hand to open the door for the paramedics.

Are you getting a better feel for Linda? What do you think she's after?

Did you expect Tall's fall or did it come as a surprise?

Is being in Ben's head still working out?

NaNoWriMo: 15,197 words so far. I was a lot under my daily goal yesterday and need to produce 200 more words today before I head off to bed. But I'm on track and even slightly ahead overall. Yesterday and today were slow because I wanted to do Linda justice and figure out her goals and motivations before moving on with the story.