“Well, certainly glad you enjoyed the salad course,” Roxy says, standing up. “Before the main entrée is served, I wanted to take a moment to reflect on the great life lessons we all learned as members of Theta Gamma Mu. Lessons like always showing up for each other, like you all did tonight.”
Across the table from me, Amelia snorts with laughter. Oh no. Her champagne glass is empty. Her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes suggest that it’s not the first beverage she’s had this evening.
No wonder Roxy said Amelia always has a drink in her hand on the society pages. I think it must be a permanent fixture.
“Oh, Roxy, please. I cannot take one more minute of this pretense, this act you’re putting on. We never should have come here. I realize that now,” Amelia says.
“The rest of the weekend will be perfect, I promise,” Roxy says, a level of panic in her voice. “We’re all here, we showed up for each other. Drop it, Amelia.”
“I can’t, Roxy. Showing up for each other was the lesson to be learned, I suppose,” Amelia says as the lights dim and brighten. “But you didn’t learn it. You still haven’t and that’s easy to see now. You’re older; your mask is slipping. Heck, you didn’t want us to show up. You wanted to outshine us, and I’m sick of it. I was during college and you’re worse now,” Amelia says before standing and walking over to the bar in the corner of the room, helping herself to another glass of wine.
She turns and glares at Roxy, pointing her finger at her. “We all know you’ve always been more interested in showing others up—as poor Sunny learned the hard way.”
34
Roxy
I am beyond tired of being humiliated in my own home, during my own son’s engagement weekend. My heart pounds in my chest as I realize I cannot escape what Amelia said. I feel everyone’s eyes burn into me as they did earlier in the day when Ryan announced he was leaving me. Now, I see Amelia’s drunken triumph, my son’s confusion. And I see Ryan’s dawning horror.
I should leave the table, but there’s nowhere to go. I know my face is drained of color. I will try one last time to pivot the conversation. Amelia’s drunk. She’s not to be trusted.
“Amelia, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I loved Sunny. We all did. There was no showing her up, only admiring her beauty,” I say, watching Ryan at the other end of the table closely. He’s clasped his hands in front of him, frozen in his seat. “You’re drunk. You should sit down before you fall over.”
“You wish I’d fall over, don’t you?” Amelia says and walks back to her seat.
I stare at her. I wish I had a way to get her out of here, out of this room, out of my life again.
“Zach, Celeste, could you please excuse us? Maybe enjoy your dinner in the kitchen,” Beth says. “I’m sorry, but we need to discuss this audience-free. It’s private. Could you give us the room?”
“Sure, Mom,” Celeste says, standing and hurrying to Zach’s side of the table, taking his hand and leading him away like a pink fairytale princess. She’s starting to get on my nerves, but I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s Beth, her seemingly perfect mom, always looking out for the kids. I suppose she is right. They shouldn’t be in here, not if Amelia goes through with her threat.
I watch the poofy pink princess lead my son away. This isn’t a fairy tale, though. It’s a nightmare. And I don’t know how to make it stop, how to wake up. I look around the table and sink slowly back into my seat in defeat.
“I loved Sunny,” I say. “I did.”
“Uh, huh, so much that you wanted her out of the way,” Amelia says. “You’d better come clean. It’s time.”
“Would you like to explain yourself, Roxy? What did you do to Sunny?” Ryan says. He stares down the table at me with a look that I can only describe as hate. I slump a bit lower in my seat, trying to hide behind the beautiful explosion of flowers that adorn the table. I feel his stare, nonetheless.
“I didn’t do anything, not on purpose,” I say, although that’s a lie.
“Tell us what happened,” Beth says. Her innocent big eyes are driving me insane. I cannot hold this inside anymore. Everything is ruined anyway. My husband is leaving me, my college friends aren’t really my friends. Nothing is real. Nobody is true. I have no choice but to answer Ryan’s question, truthfully.
I deserve it, I suppose. For twenty-five years I’ve been carrying this burden, this secret. For twenty-five years I’ve paid for my sin, and not just literally in the form of Amelia’s blackmail. In every part of my life, awake and asleep. I sit up tall in my seat and face my husband, and the rest of them, my sisters.
“I know you never loved me like you did Sunny,” I say, meeting Ryan’s eyes, “no matter how hard I tried to earn your love, and God knows, I’ve tried. That is the truth.”
I think back to senior year, after Sunny died. I made sure Ryan had a comforting shoulder to cry on as he navigated his grief the remainder of our senior year. The night of our graduation, we hung out together, the two of us, missing Sunny. I did miss her too. Her genuine friendship. She was the only one who kept us all together, who accepted me for who I was. When her name was mentioned in a eulogy during our graduation ceremony, I broke down. We drank too much, trying to forget the pain. Ryan was so drunk and depressed that he’d succumbed to my advances that night, and we’d had sloppy, quick sex. He had forgotten to use a condom. I didn’t remind him.
“I always tried to pretend that your proposal of marriage was enthusiastic, heartfelt,” I say as tears roll down my cheeks. “But I know it was only because I told you I was pregnant a fewweeks after graduation night. You never loved me, as much as I pretended that you did. You loved Sunny, and now you love Zach. But that’s all.”
Ryan stares at me across the vibrantly decorated table, the bright colors at odds with the darkness outside, the darkness of the moment, the deathly silence at the table. He doesn’t offer up a word of denial.
“Roxy, would you like to come with me, take a break? I can walk you to your room,” Jamie says, patting my hand. “I think we’ve all had about as much as we can handle for tonight.”
“Oh, please, Jamie, don’t tell me you’re falling for those crocodile tears,” Amelia says, her eyes flashing with glee. “Trust me, you won’t want to escort Roxy anywhere after you hear what she did. You might as well tell them everything, Roxy. If you don’t, I promise I will.”
I’ve never hated her more than at this moment. That’s why I didn’t invite her here in the first place. I knew she would try to ruin everything. Her red hair is garish. She is the devil in the room. I look down at my hands clasped in my lap. I don’t have a choice. Amelia has threatened to reveal everything, and I have no doubt she will. I know there is nothing I can do or say to salvage either the weekend or my marriage, so, what the hell. Why not tell the truth?
