"What do you mean, you can't make it?" Mom asks, her voice rising slightly. "It's our family tradition."
"I know, but work is really busy right now, and—"
"Absolutely not," Dad says, not unkindly.
"Richard." Mom scolds him for raising his voice at the dinner table, but there's no heat in it.
"Sorry, but I mean it." Dad leans forward, fixing me with his no-nonsense gaze. "You're not skipping because of work. You're skipping because of Ethan."
I open my mouth to protest but can't find the words. He's right, of course.
"We didn't raise quitters in this house," Dad continues. "I understand you two had a messy breakup—"
"Messy?" I finally find my voice. "He obliterated my confidence, dad.” I slam my hand on the table making both my mom and Emily jump. “He told me he 'needed space,' and then proposed to a coworker not even a year later. That's not messy, that's a character assassination."
"All the more reason not to give him the satisfaction of thinking he chased you away from your own family vacation," Dad counters.
"Your father's right," Mom adds. "The Harpers have been joining us on this trip for almost thirty years. We're not uninviting them just because Ethan made poor choices."
"And he's probably bringing Olivia," Emily adds non-helpfully, examining her wine glass with sudden fascination.
I turn to her, betrayed. "You think?"
She shrugs, still not meeting my eyes. "I was going to talk to you about it, but then you had that whole... work situation."
By "work situation," she means the Sebastian debacle.
"Great. So I get to spend a week watching my ex and his fiancée play happy couple in a wintery paradise while I'm the sad, single, lonely ex lurking in the corner." I stab my fork into my pot roast. "Sounds super relaxing."
"Charlotte Ann Whitaker." And there’s my full name. "You are a beautiful, successful woman with plenty to be proud of. I won't have you hiding away because Ethan is bringing his new... person."
"Fiancée, Mom. The word you're looking for is fiancée."
"Yes, well." She sniffs and pats the corner of her mouth with her napkin. "The point stands. You're coming. End of discussion."
I look to Em for support, but she's now suddenly shifted her focus on a piece of cooked carrot. Dad is giving me that immovable look that means his mind is made up. Twenty-nine years old, and I'm still powerless against the parental united front.
"You know what?" Emily says suddenly, her voice bright. "Charlie will definitely be there. In fact, she'll be bringing someone too."
I nearly choke on my wine. "I will?"
"Umm duh." Her eyes are wide and innocent in a way that fills me with dread. "She didn’t want me to say anything but Charlie's been seeing someone. It's pretty serious."
Both of my parents' faces light up like Christmas came early.
"What? Really?" Mom claps her hands together. "Oh, sweetheart, why didn't you tell us?"
"Because it's not—" I start, but Emily kicks me under the table.
Hard.
Ouch. Fuck that hurt.
"They've been keeping it quiet," she continues smoothly. "You know how private Charlie can be about her life."
Dad looks at me skeptically. "Is this true, Charlotte?"
Emily's eyes widen slightly and bore into mine, silently communicating some message I can't quite decipher. But I do know that if I contradict her now, I'll be dooming myself to a vacation full of pity glances while Ethan parades around with his perfect Olivia.
