He studied her for a few seconds, then repeated, “Your mother loves you very much. So do I,” he added.
“Yet I remain unmoved by said love, so no.”
“We want to invite Cindy and her family over to dinner.”
The gut punch was instant. Victoria tried to get outraged about the fact that there was nowein that sentence. Milton didn’t care one way or the other. This was all on her mom. But there was no way to avoid the swift cut of pain that diced her heart into even smaller pieces.
What she wanted to do was cry out, asking why her mother couldn’t let the past go. Why wasn’t she enough? But saying that would expose her hurt, and she’d always done her best to stand strong.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” she said instead, doing her best to speak as if she wasn’t the least bit interested. “Tell me when that’s happening so I can avoid the blonde-girl reunion. At least Mom will get to hang out with the ‘good’ daughter.”
“Her name is Shannon, and this isn’t about hurting you.”
“I’m not hurt,” she lied. “It’s fine. You and Mom should totally do that.”
“Your mother needs closure. What happened back then... It was a dark time. We never got to ask the obvious questions. There was no explanation. Some information would be helpful.”
Because after twenty-four years it still mattered? At what point did her mother move on? Only she didn’t ask either question. Instead she nodded and tried to smile.
“I get that. Like I said, have fun.”
Her father’s gaze was steady. She didn’t know what he was—
“No!” she said sharply. “Don’t even think about it. There is no way I’m going to be there.”
“It would be better if you were.”
“Better for who? No me. Not anyone else. I have nothing to do with what you all want to discuss. Besides, if I’m around, I’ll be a distraction. Without me, Mom can focus on the perfect and blonde lost daughter.”
“Her name is Shannon, and this isn’t a contest.”
“Good thing, because I’ve already lost.” The words spilled out before she could stop them. She sighed. “Seriously, Dad, just have them over, and enjoy the evening. I don’t want to be there.”
“I understand it’s a difficult situation for all of us.”
“There’s an understatement. You could hire a screenwriter to work up a treatment, only no one would accept the premise. It’s just too far-fetched.”
He covered her hand with his. “I know this is hard for you. I know you’re hurting. Maybe we should have figured out a way to tell you about the past, but I’m not sure when it would have come up. Losing Shannon was difficult, and we were inmourning as you said, but know this, sweet girl. The second you were placed in my arms, I fell in love with you, and that feeling has never gone away. You’re our miracle. You always have been.”
Despite everything, she was a little touched by his words. Not that she would share that particular emotion. She was already too vulnerable.
“I’m no one’s definition of a miracle,” she muttered. “And I’m still not going to the dinner party from hell.”
His gaze was steady. “Victoria, please. It’s two families getting together. You’re part of our family. I’m asking you to do this for me.”
She tried not to writhe in her seat. “Not everything is about you.”
He continued to watch her, not speaking, just waiting. She pulled her hand away and groaned.
“Fine, I’ll be there, but I won’t like it.”
“Thank you.”
“Whatever.” But she was smiling as she spoke.
9
Shannon put the dish of crab dip onto a cookie sheet and popped it into the countertop oven. She’d already toasted the sliced baguette she’d picked up on her way home. She had plenty of cheese, two kinds of regular olives along with the stuffed ones Aaron loved. Salami, prosciutto, grapes and strawberries. While the crab dip heated, she played around with the ingredients, folding the salami into little roses and standing the thick slices of gouda on their sides.
