. second act

[cora wolfe]

PREVIOUSLY... A T  T H E  M C C A R T H Y C H R I S T M A S  P A R T Y The season was bright with the return of the annual McCarthy Christmas party in 2021, and with the coveted invitation came the coveted gossip that floats from those hallowed, historic halls. One such item was the attendance of Cora Wolfe on the arm of her cousin, Tate McCarthy - both absent of partners but never absent a drink, or phone, in their hand. An inside source claims Miss Wolfe refused to part from hers, an effusive smile present at one or more occasions as she quietly texted away. Perhaps rekindling with old flame, soccer star Nate Peterson? Only time will tell if history repeats itself. ______________________ It was as if the party was stuck in time. In the best way, of course, opulent decor and elegant outfits sweeping the polished floors that welcomed every guest. The memories held here always had a special place in Cora's heart, from sneaking drinks as a kid to sneaking away as a love struck teenager - and it was warmed once again as she hovered outside in her fur coat, pulling her phone from her pocket in anxious anticipation. Attending with Nate again was another moment in a time capsule, though the tentative rhythm of her pulse was different than the giddy nerves of long ago. If she was honest, she was surprised he'd agreed - fresh off the high of making the World Cup team, then the swift crash of defeat, he'd leaned more into his family than ever. She'd understood, had accepted his short communication and occasional calls as they came - and then the surprise of his RSVP landed in her inbox. Now, here, draped in curve-hugging red velvet and a rare nervous smile, Cora stepped gracefully to the curb once Nate emerged from the car. "Welcome back," she murmured, wrapping dainty arms around his neck."Give it a few drinks, and it'll be like you never missed a thing."

[nate peterson]

Another black tie event. In his ascension to the halls of athletic fame, Nate had failed to anticipate how many events it would entail off the field. Charity galas where he was the guest of honor in a penguin suit, guesting on talk shows where a stylist would put him in something that felt just a little off from what he'd have picked himself. At least tonight he'd had the privilege of dressing himself, as well as the knowledge that he was walking into a room where he would be far from the only famous face. He had decided to go more casual than was probably preferred, opting for a suit and open collar, his hair pushed back with only the slightest hint of product. Imperceptible though the change was, he was sure it would be obvious to Cora that he had dressed himself. Stepping out the car, he takes in the vision of his semi-ex, semi-current girlfriend. "You look beautiful," he says, leaning in to kiss her. "Let's get this over with."

[cora wolfe]

Time catches up, after Nate's arrival. Memories of his first time attending, wide-eyed and a college smirk that betrayed his terror, now melted into shoulders that held exhaustion but accustomed posture. A little more familiar with something so grand, a little less apprehensive. God, we've actually grown up, Cora thinks quietly, smudging lipstick off the edge of his mouth."And you look dashing," she voices instead, tugging at the edge of his opened collar with a sly grin. It was funny what she could still recognize, even with years of silence then whatever this was. A tenuous conversation they were refusing to have, fingers laced under moonlight as Cora drags him into the spectacle. "You mean you don't want to know what the 3am treat is this year? I heard it's potato chips and caviar," she pouts in faux sorrow, eyes hovering between family and business partners and god knows who else to discern their best course of action before settling on a passing tray of champagne. Cora deftly removes two flutes, tipping the rims together when she hands it over."I'm really happy you're here...honestly I was so surprised, but in the best way."

[nate peterson]

It had taken the first of these parties he'd attended for Nate to realize just how out of his depth he was in Cora's world. In a slightly battered suit he had borrowed from his dad, he had expected a flashy party, but nothing had prepared him for the level of grandeur that had confronted him. It was a level of luxurious excess that most people saved for a once in a lifetime wedding, though he was sure the budget for even one element, from the flowers to the decorations to the food, would have dwarfed the total spend on any wedding he had attended. Well, that was then, this was now. "Caviar? How passé," he quips, adopting an exaggerated transatlantic accent. He notices a few people take second glances at them, though it's impossible to say if they're absorbing them as a couple, for gossip fodder, or recognising him from his recent loss on the global soccer stage. His stomach twists as he takes a sip of champagne, avoiding meeting anyone's eye. "My flight to London was cancelled, so," he says, though he offers her a small smile. "More importantly, do you know when Sadie's getting here?"

[cora wolfe]

Cora was already bracing herself for the questions after. Everyone in attendance had been taught long ago that formalities held until after midnight, when the kids took over and drinks overflowed well into the night. There'd likely be no mention of her photos splashed across the tabloids, the accusations that still stung, the fact that she'd brought her ex boyfriend back after years and his unintended rise to fame. But it would exist as an undercurrent, something they both felt as she tries to catch his eye. The unintended drop in her stomach as she tries to discern if he's joking or not, not used to being on such uneven ground. She'd always been the headstrong one between them - it was a strange shift to wonder if she stepped too far, or if she'd say the wrong thing and watch him walk away again. Tonight though, on her turf and in her element, Cora offers a tiny smile back before casting her gaze around the room. "Priorities in order, I see. Her and Adam should be here any minute - going to scare her fiancé? It's still fucking crazy that she's engaged - between her and the baby we might be able to sneak out by 11."

[nate peterson]

Caginess didn't come naturally to Nate as a rule, but there was something that had changed in him from the moment they split. Maybe even before then, when he'd suspected she was sneaking around on him. The good natured Midwestern boy had developed an edge that was reserved only for Cora, an uneasiness that had led him to rudeness and even sometimes cruelty. He wants to apologise for that, but whenever he's tried, the words don't come. "That depends, what's he like?" Another sip of champagne. He's about to ask what baby when the baby in question starts to cry, her mother sighing heavily and handing her own flute of champagne to her brother. Aisha and Tate McCarthy. He'd never liked either of them, truth be told, seeing Cora's worst qualities in them-- though where she had a sprinkling, they had them in spades. "This time next year Sadie will probably have her own. Auntie Cora, you'll be stuck babysitting."

[cora wolfe]

"He reminds me of you, sometimes," Cora starts, gaze flicking to the gold-flecked ceiling to conjure up how else to describe him. The old you, sits bitterly on her tongue, though she has no one but herself to blame for watching that version slip through her fingers. It's an eternal case of the grass is always greener - him fighting to prove worthy of her status, her bucking it to crave a taste of another life she'd never known. In the end she'd been the one to abandon something good, tip the scales back in an opulent favor of reckless abandon and expenditures - but looking around now, all she felt was cold, unshakable guilt. "Polite, sarcastic, charming, dedicated...they have the same kind of warmth, it's special to see. I'm really happy for her." Cora finishes on barely a whisper, peering over his shoulder as a familiar face emerges from a car. "Luckily I think I've got a few years, med school still has her ledger...speak of the devil," Cora tips her chin towards her beaming little sister, swigging the last of her champagne. "Go catch up with your little protégé, I think I need another drink. Want anything?"

[nate peterson]

Nate scrunches his nose up at her response, surprised. He had expected Sadie to settle with someone exactly like herself; determined, single-minded, perceptive. As Cora starts to reel off adjectives he can see why she'd find him familiar, and what Sadie would see in him. "Sounds like she has good taste in men, as you both do. Wonder where you got it from?" His eyes scan the room for Athena, but there's no sign of the bombshell. Instead his eyes land on her younger daughter, whose beaming smile makes his face crack into a mirrored grin. "Haig on the rocks please," he says, his drink sponsor rolling off his tongue as habit. He closes in on Sadie, pulling the petite girl into a big hug and finishing it with an extra squeeze. He holds his hand out to her fiancee, a man who looked a lot more at peace with his surroundings than Nate had, at least before his media training. "Nate Peterson," he holds his hand out, giving Adam's a firm shake. "Congrats on the engagement, you must have known a good thing when you saw it."

[cora wolfe]

Jesus, this feels like a minefield. Cora can't discern if his statements are sharp with barbs or just general observations, throat thick with the need to clarify but too terrified of the answer. It only intensifies as a genuine smile breaks through the shadows when he notices her sister, left with an order and the ghost of a man she thought was there for her. We're in for a long night, she thinks solemnly, rolling her eyes before schooling her features into something neutral enough to pass for content. Thin forearms lean gracefully against the bar, immediately joined by a flustered Aisha who rushes through a list of grievances. "I'll take the baby, you can take Nate who I think still might hate me underneath it all," Cora lofts back, thanking the bartender as glasses slide in front of her. She'll make her rounds later in the night, enough to be seen and remembered, crossing back across the room and sliding the drink into Nate's hand before embracing her sister. "Thank god the books let you go for the night - Adam, hope you're ready for the real wolves," she jests, hugging him all the same. The relief of a bigger group felt palpable, something she wasn't ready to read into yet as she grabbed Nate's empty hand, Sadie's ring catching the light just so. "Did you finalize your faux wedding plans to shock people yet? I'm still team Idaho, everyone will be unwell over the potato seating cards."

[nate peterson]

Cora is quieter than he expected her to be, and one glimpse of her at the bar with her cousin makes an uneasy feeling settle in the pit of his stomach. He had met her during their college years and hated her from the word go, since she had asked where he was from and openly laughed at his answer. Since he'd ascended to football fame her ice had started to thaw towards him, but he still remembered, just like he remembered the difference in his reception here. At his first gala he had been broadly ignored, relegated to the role of Cora's date. The next, his wrist had hurt from all the hand shakes he'd endured, everyone and their wife asking if he'd be willing to attend some charity gala or the other. "Thank you," he says as Cora hands him his drink. Instinctively he squeezed her hand as it slips into his, brushing his thumb across her knuckles. Catching up with the joke, he laughs along. "Can I suggest Missouri? It's lovely this time of year."

[cora wolfe]

There. That calming touch, even if second nature, pulls Cora from the sick spiral occurring in her head, dropping her chin to rest on Nate's shoulder. Feeling his laugh through her slight frame, watching Sadie's eyes sparkle in response as she shoved his shoulder. This was right, this was what it should be. "Right in front of The Arch in the middle of a snowstorm? Don't tempt us," her little sister replies, before launching into whatever grand plan their mother had presented one night when she'd visited. Adam cuts in at the right places and asks Nate enough questions to let on how much Sadie had told him, caught in their own little world before one of their (many) extended cousins cut in to steal a glimpse at the ring. Cora offers a small smile, in her head wishing it could have just stayed the four of them all night. So much easier that way. She pushes blonde curls over her shoulder, lips at Nate's ear in a whisper. "You want to do a few rounds? I also know a conveniently secretive hallway that might be familiar if that sounds like a worthy alternative."

[nate peterson]

Losing Sadie as part of their abrupt breakup had hit Nate hard. Well accustomed to having younger sisters himself, as soon as he met the younger Wolfe he had hit it off with her, their banter easy and his concern for her wellbeing genuine. As Cora rests her head on his shoulder and he listens to the happy couple speak, a warmth blooms within him. At least they had been able to figure this stuff out. He answers Adam's questions and fires some back, the conversation flowing easily - if they were to double date, he thinks it would lead to a natural friendship. As soon as the thought occurs to him Nate banishes it, that kind of domestic life seeming a pipe dream now. "Hmm, wandering around having to accept commiserations for my defeat, or getting my hands on you in a hallway?" He tries to look like he's thinking about it, though a grin quickly seeps across his face. "Secretive hallway it is."

[cora wolfe]

"It's more fun to celebrate anyway," Cora corrects, bidding the pair goodbye before the crowd got worse. She could still remember the thrill when his name appeared on the final roster, a dream he barely uttered aloud coming true on the worldwide scale. No matter how they'd finished, the scrutiny on the talent or age or experience, she'd been nothing but proud of him. The memory courses through her now, giddy on the flowing champagne bubbles and silly surface of romance, tugging him down the hall they'd always considered theirs since his appearances here. Rarely disturbed, always secluded - Cora drags him down into a kiss, courtesy and face time with the party be damned. "Merry Christmas, Nate. What else is on that list of yours?"

[nate peterson]

Cora's pride had caught him by surprise. He knew she would be supportive of him, of course, as she had been towards his career since the very start. But the pride radiated off her with the same intensity as it had with his own father, a pure selfless pride where he had expected her only to be pleased to have bragging rights. It's part of an overall change he had noticed in her since they had rekindled whatever this was-- the Cora he knew now was a lot more empathetic than the one he had called his so long ago. As soon as they find themselves in their familiar space, he pushes her against the wall, deepening the kiss she initiates. "I can think of a few things," he murmurs into her lips, his leg slipping between hers just so as he leans down for another kiss. "How about you? What does the girl who wants for nothing want for Christmas?"

[cora wolfe]

What does she want? It's as much a literal question as it is an existential one, the world at her fingertips should she choose. And she had, guilty of barely blinking twice at broad expenditures no matter who it benefitted. Her last major purchase, Christmas presents aside, had been making sure Nate's family had everything taken care of at the World Cup, a silent apology to his father for what she'd put his son through. Much like Nate she knew she'd ruined that trust, and even here with him now, fingers scratching delicately at the skin of his neck she knew was a weakness, she wondered if it was something she'd ever be gifted again. The thought along propels her to break away, breath heavy as she tilts her head back against the wall. "I want something I'm never sure I'll have again," Cora answers honestly, ears flooded with their stilted breathing when she finds his gaze. He'd always been good enough at reading between the vague and veiled statements she'd make, but now, turning to press her lips against his wrist bracing her in, she had no idea what answer she'd get in response.