“Hey, Ms. Harris,” Zach says, pulling out my chair for me. “You look lovely tonight.”
“Thanks, Zach,” I say. Remember, he’s a great boy. Don’t judge a kid by his mother; that’s the golden rule. “It’s Beth, please. Call me Beth. Oh, good. You’re sitting next to me.”
“I am.” Zach takes his seat at the head of the table.
“So, dear Beth,” Amelia says, slurring her words and stumbling around a bit because I know she wanted to insert the word“poor” before my name. I guess Roxy hadn’t been exaggerating in her sly references to Amelia always having a drink in her hand. “How are you anyway? You work for some nonprofit or something? Sounds…interesting.”
I take a deep breath. “It is, actually. Our organization builds low-income housing for families. We’re about to break ground on a huge development, and I am so excited. We are taking donations, of course. As a mom, I’m sure you understand the need,” I say. A server brings around a tray of what appear to be martinis, and I wave her over. Somehow, I’ve already finished my glass of champagne. This is going to be a long night.
“Right, I am sadly a single mom now, again. I’m sure you all remember that I married my second husband, the wealthy one, Senator Dell, after I had my first kid with the horrible husband,” Amelia says.
I vaguely remember she had a short, fiery marriage after college. “Luckily, I met Dick, and the rest, as they say, is a beautiful dream,” Amelia says. “Until he died, rest his soul.” She puts her hands together in a prayer gesture before putting a finger to her lips, red fingernail shiny and sharp, before letting out a cackle.. “Who am I kidding? I’m so damn lucky. Dick left me rich.”
“Well good for you,” Brett says, leaning onto Amelia’s shoulder. “And gorgeous too.”
“Why, thank you, you charmer,” Amelia says, kissing Brett on the cheek.
“And Beth, you look lovely, and Jamie, well, all of you ladies. How lucky am I to be here?” Brett says.
This will be the longest dinner ever. I look around the table and spot Jamie rolling her eyes at Amelia’s flirtation. A kindred soul, of sorts, I suppose. She always worked hard at classes during college; she was driven to become a doctor, and she did it. I’m a little surprised Jamie was invited here this weekend, actually. She was a year behind us in school and always seemed too nice to belong to the Roxy-Amelia crew, even though she was Roxy’s sorority little sister. I sense someone watching me and look up to find Ryan giving me a sheepish smile. He clinks his fork against his still full champagne glass. Maybe he’s planning to apologize for overreacting upstairs?
“I’d like to propose a toast to get this little weekend started. First, to Celeste and Zach, may the love you have now grow stronger every moment. To Roxy, for bringing us all together here. And to Beth, welcome to the family. It’s almost like fate wanted us all to be together again, and here we are,” he says. “Cheers.”
I raise my martini glass, embarrassed I’ve finished my champagne, and clink Ryan’s glass before we cheer all around. And with that, the salad course is served. At least everyone will have something to focus on other than each other. Zach, who is seated next to his mother, is in deep conversation with Roxy. To my left, Amelia and Brett are giggling like schoolchildren. Across the table, Ryan eats his salad. I want to ask him why he bought this place, this old mansion that looks so much like the Desert Sunrise. Why would he want a vacation home that constantly reminds him of—.
“Ryan, Zach has a good thought about the rehearsal dinner location,” Roxy says, as if sensing I was about to ask Ryan a question myself. Although rehearsal dinners are traditionally the purview of the groom’s family, and weddings are the bride’s family, Roxy already commandeered the wedding. She can’t have everything, can she? Roxy smiles at me.
Maybe it’s just as well she changed the subject to all these wedding plans. There are some subjects too painful to revisit. And what happened in the desert all those years ago is one of them.
“I’d like to host the rehearsal dinner,” I say. “It will be simple, but it’s the least I can do since your family is generously handling the wedding.”
Zach and Roxy both look like I’ve suddenly ripped all my clothes off in front of them. What’s the word?Aghast.
“That’s really sweet, Ms. Harris,” Zach says, despite the fact I’ve asked him to call me Beth. “But Mom and I agree that having it at the yacht club would be perfect.”
And I’m not a member, of course.
“Celeste,” I say, looking down the huge table at my daughter, “is that what you want? The yacht club for rehearsal dinner?” I watch as my daughter locks eyes with her fiancé, who smiles at her like they have many secrets between them already.
“Mom, it’s a great space,” my daughter says. The future Mrs. Gentry wants her rehearsal dinner at the yacht club. I’m out of my league.
I wish I hadn’t finished my champagne.
“Well, good,” Roxy says. “That’s settled. Of course, we’ll give you a tour of the space before the big night, so you’ll feel comfortable, Beth.”
I ignore Roxy and instead stare off into the corner of the room, admiring the built-in bar, its ornate glassware and decanters reflecting the flickering light from the fireplace. I’ll never be comfortable with this situation, none of it.
12
Amelia
Brett is doing his best to help me remember why I don’t like men. I take a sip of what must be my fourth or fifth glass of pinot grigio, a fine vintage, I suppose, but I can barely taste it anymore. Roxy does have exquisite taste and an unlimited budget, so I never complain about her choice in wine.
I turn to my so-called date and flash what my recently deceased husband calls my killer smile. He did not mean that in a good way. He meant, if looks could kill, he’d be dead. Oh, and now I guess that is true. Rest in peace, Senator. We were, truth be told, about to announce our divorce when he died. I know he planned to murder me slowly by stretching out our separation and divorce proceedings, trying to keep every last dime from me that he could. Meanwhile, I was doing my best to turn all four kids against him. But then he died, and our marriage, seemingly intact, can live on in infamy as a model for all times. Ironic,really, the timing of everything. And now I get to spend all his old money. Perfect.
I stare at Brett, who for some reason is complimenting Beth’s hair. He’ll be sorry he’s acting this way. In New England, we raise men to be attentive to their dates and no one else. I take a deep breath, rub my pearls between my fingertips.
“Brett, could you pour me another glass of wine?” I say through gritted teeth. I’ve had about enough of him spending all his time charming Beth, who is irritatingly pretty, although she doesn’t seem to know it, and always single. Fortunately, Beth doesn’t seem interested in my date, nor does Jamie, sitting across the table. Every time Brett compliments her or starts a dinner-party friendly conversation and asks her opinion, Jamie grabs her husband’s arm like she’s about to be attacked. The poor girl is as shy as she’s always been. And try as he may, Brett also has failed to win Roxy over; that much is clear.
