14
Amelia
Jamie has returned and leans against Greer, a smile on her face for the first time since she got here. She seems so full of love for her sisters at the moment. It’s all enough to make me want to vomit.
It’s such a lie. What is wrong with these people? I wonder, looking around the dining room table. It’s all a bunch of baloney.
“Those sisterly bonds weren’t so unbreakable for Sunny, were they?” I ask.
I know I’m drunk, and I may be slurring my words, but they all heard me. Someone had to mention the elephant in the room. I mean, it’s ridiculous. I’m fed up with people tiptoeing around the subject of Sunny while being all rah-rah sorority reunion-ish. I mean, this house looks like the Desert Sunrise, so of course Sunny’s on all our minds. How could she not be? It’s almost as if she’s here with us in this room.
I take a moment to look each of them in the eye, those who will meet mine, that is. This room sparkles with opulence and is an overwhelming display of privilege. Sure, yes, I can appreciate such things since I grew up having the finest of everything and expect it still today. But what I don’t understand is this veil of denial we’ve all chosen to wear. It’s as if the bad thing happened but we refuse to acknowledge its ripple effect. Well, I don’t. I know what Sunny’s death meant for me. I don’t think any of these people think about that, though.
“You do all realize that all our lives changed when she died,” I say. “That is the truth of it.”
The atmosphere in the room shifts again as the lively chatter they were resuming has been interrupted by my pronouncement. Yes, they’re all watching me now, a mixture of fear and anger visible on their faces. Beth’s face is frozen in an open-mouthed gasp. There is an air of tension now lingering over all of us like an unspoken question.
Of course, Roxy, the hostess with the mostest, will try to shift the conversation, likely to herself, if I had to guess. I’ve disrupted the carefully orchestrated ambiance of the dinner.
“Amelia, there’s no need to bring those bad memories up, not here, not this weekend,” Roxy says. “Not in front of the kids.”
Everyone wants me to drop the subject. The room hangs in a delicate balance, awaiting the next ripple of the drama to unfold. And I’m gladly the one to do it.
“Well, Roxy,” I say, “this involvesthe kids,as you call them, directly. If Sunny hadn’t died at a resort in the desert, Bethwouldn’t have married the first loser who came along.” I pause and flash my signature smile. It’s my sorority smile turned mom smile turned congressional spouse power look. A lips-pursed smile. I clutch my pearls.
“Amelia!” Beth says. She stares at me as if she wants to punch me. She wouldn’t; she couldn’t no matter what I say or do. She’s a tiny mouse, the poor mouse, always has been. I feel her daughter’s stare too. Now, that Celeste, I can tell she’s stronger than her mom, and she’s marrying into some big money, so she’ll be set for life. But I don’t care. I’m right about this.
“You know it’s true, Beth. And you should know that, too, Celeste. Sunny was your mom’s best friend. She totally would have talked your mom out of marrying that guy, your loser dad. And once she had talked some sense into you, Beth, well, Celeste, you wouldn’t be here,” I say.
Beth’s face is red with a mixture of embarrassment and anger, but she knows I’m telling the truth, so she doesn’t say anything. Celeste looks both surprised and confused. Beth never told her that her best friend, Sunny, died at a desert resort. Strange.
“And you know what else? If Sunny hadn’t died, Zachary wouldn’t be here either. Isn’t that interesting?” I say.
“Amelia, that’s enough,” Roxy says, eyes narrowing, trying to threaten me with her Roxy powers.
But I’m not finished. “And if Sunny had lived, we wouldn’t all be here celebrating their engagement. It’s funny how good things arise from tragedy, isn’t it?” I look around at their stunnedfaces. They are acting like I’m speaking in tongues when, really, I’m telling the truth.
I hold up my glass of wine, woefully almost empty. “I’d like to make a toast. To Sunny. Your death brought Roxy and me closer together. I cannot even begin to imagine how different my life might be without her friendship and support all these years. To Sunny, and to Roxy. Cheers!”
The others finally raise their glasses after an awkward pause. They’re such cowards, so easily silenced and scared. As we clink our glasses together, I’m pleased to see that Roxy’s mask has fallen completely now, and her benevolent smile doesn’t quite hide the distress in her eyes.
15
Beth
That was the world’s longest dinner, I think as I make my way down the hallway to my room. I’m glad my room is at the end of the hall, as far away as possible from Roxy, who has a huge suite of rooms at the other end of the hall that she has dubbed “The G Suite.” Amelia and Brett are in the pool house, apart from the rest of us. Obviously, that was a good call. How awkward to end the evening on her distasteful toast to Sunny. All those things Amelia said still weigh heavily on my heart, and I’ve been on edge ever since. I open the door to the room and step inside.
“Mom,” Celeste says, and I jump like I saw a ghost.
“Oh my gosh, I didn’t hear you behind me,” I say, my hand covering my rapidly beating heart. I find the light switch and turn on the chandelier over the bed, an elegant illumination to the entire room.
“Obviously,” she says. “Sorry I scared you. Can I come in?”
“Of course, honey,” I say and hurry to close the door behind her. I have the creeps, and her unexpected appearance doesn’t help. But I am glad to see her—of course I am. I need to calm down. “Shouldn’t you be heading to bed? You have another big day tomorrow.”
“Unfortunately,” she says. “Mom, I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” I ask. “You haven’t done anything wrong, my perfect girl.” Except the whole getting engaged too soon and the yacht club thing, but really, she’s young and a yacht club sounds, well, Gentry-like. “Don’t look so sad. I’ll get over the yacht club decision. I need to get used to the new reality.”
