“Son.” He nods curtly and turns to Cora, smiling. “I’m sorry I missed you last night; you must be Cora.So very nice to meet you.” He clasps her hand in both of his.
“Cora, this is my father, Sterling Stone. Dad, this is my wife.”
“It’s so great to have you here with us.” Father smiles at her. “Marianne worked so hard on this event, and having the whole family here means a lot. I hope we will see more of you.”
He finally lets go of her hands and looks at me. I know that look well. Not triumph. Not manipulation. Just a silent satisfaction. He got what he wanted. His family reunited.
“It’s good to be back, Dad,” I choke out, and it’s the fucking truth.
Dad pats my shoulder. “I have some more mingling to suffer through, but I’ll see you kids at the dinner table.”
“He’s nice.” Cora cocks her head, searching my face, evidently surprised by the civility of the encounter.
That’s because I’m the villain in this story. “I need to—”
“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats,” the announcement interrupts me.
Yet again. For fuck’s sake. It’s like the universe doesn’t want me to be honest with her.
Perhaps I’m making too big a deal out of nothing. Just like I did two years ago when I fled from here.
We pass under arches of white roses and soft, gold lighting toward our table and settle into our seats.
Nana Sybil is already seated, wearing a pale lavender turban and at least three heirlooms from the Stone vaults.
“I told the designer I wanted a train,” she complains to Lottie who is seated beside her, “and the old bastard gave me a bustle. I look like a peacock in mourning.”
“Hello, Nana.” I kiss her cheek.
“You look great, Sybil.” Cora smiles, and my grandmother pats her hand.
Dad and Mom join us.
“I love your dress, darling.” Mom kisses Cora as she takes her seat on the other side of Dad. “Where is Liam?”
“I’m here,” my brother grumbles, and falls into the last empty chair.
Nana Sybil holds her champagne flute aloft like a weapon. “I told the waiter if he bends over one more time, I’m going to tuck a twenty in his waistband.”
Lottie snorts. Cora stifles a laugh, squeezing my thigh.
“Welcome to the Stonefamily.” I shrug.
“I guess I know where you got your playful gene.” She snorts.
“Mother,” my father says mildly, “please don’t harass the staff.”
“Oh, please do, Nana.” Liam raises his flute. “This evening needs a bit of spice.”
“William,” Mother says sternly.
“Oh, please…” Nana waves her hand. “He winked at me first. If I were thirty years younger and slightly less unhinged, I’d take him home like a party favor.”
This time Cora spits into her napkin, while I snort.
Soon enough, we settle into small talk, and I watch my family warm to my wife like embers catching.
She fits here. She really fits.
