4
Dottie insisted on having “the murder room,” as she called it—even after I’d explained, as many times as I could, that nobody had been murdered in that room.Well, not unless you count Nathaniel Blackwood, I guess.Or Nathaniel Blackwood’s wife.Although, those killings hadtechnicallyhappened on the balcony, so maybe the room was fine, but it was more of a murder balcony?
In any case, Dottie seemed perfectly comfortable in Vivienne’s old room.It had been untouched, aside from fresh bedding, since the days when Vivienne had lived here.Dottie quickly got caught up in looking at Vivienne’s private collection of books.
As soon as I could, I escaped to the kitchen.The only way out of this evening seemed to be a sugar coma, and the Boston cream pie was calling my name.
When I got there, though, Bobby was standing in front of the refrigerator.His stance was wide.His arms were crossed.Even in a sweater and jeans, all his muscles were popping.(God, please let that be a thing people say.) “What’s going on?”
“Excuse me,” I said.“I need to get my emergency cake.”
“Dash.”
“Nothing’s going on.”
Bobby set his jaw.
I pushed him out of the way.Well, I tried to.
After a while, Bobby must have gotten tired of being embarrassed for me because he caught hold of my hands and held on until I had to look him in the eye.“Are you upset because she was telling people about your life?”
“Embarrassing things.Humiliating things.Soul-crushing abominations that should have been swallowed up by the dark tide of history.”
“Like Dasher the Loneliest Reindeer.”
I shuddered.“Exactly.”
“It was cute,” Bobby said.
I rolled my eyes.
Bobby’s pause was so slight that I might have missed it from someone else.“A quarterback?”
I groaned.
“He was very good looking,” Bobby informed me.
“How are you being polite and somehow making this so much worse?”Before Bobby could answer that, I continued, “Look, that’s just Dottie; she has a hard time remembering I’m not twelve.”The look on Bobby’s face made me say, “Rude!Anyway, it wasn’t my favorite part of the evening, but she’s been doing that my whole life.It’s just a big sister thing.”
“Is there a reason she shouldn’t stay here?Because I’ll ask her to leave.”
“Oh my God, Bobby, don’t you dare!”
“I understand family can be difficult—”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that.Everything’s fine.She’s great.I love Dottie.I mean, I haven’t been around her for much of my adult life, but she’s my sister, and she really is an amazing person.It’s just—” I fought to keep the disappointment out of my voice.“I had such a nice evening planned.”Heat bloomed in my face, and I rushed to add.“With the nachos.And then she showed up, and now everybody else is here, and I’m not going to get to spend any time with, uh, the nachos, and I don’t get a lot of one-on-one time with the nachos, and—have I stopped talking yet?”
“No, and it’s getting interesting.”
I groaned, squeezed my eyes shut, and concentrated on melting into the floor.
Bobby’s quiet laugh ran through the kitchen.And then he squeezed my hands and said, “I appreciate that you planned a great New Year’s Eve.”
“It’s not a great New Year’s Eve.It’s a terrible New Year’s Eve.We might as well be—be doing puzzles and eating soup.”
“I like puzzles,” Bobby said.
“No,” I moaned.“Why is everything the worst?”
