“Sebastian.” She smiles and runs her gaze over my white T-shirt and gray sweatpants. “Don’t you look at home?”
I don’t bother to feign a smile. “Iamat home.”
“Aren’t you going to invite us in?”
“If you promise to be quiet.”
“You know your mother. She doesn’t raise her voice,” Travis says.
He’s either deaf or a liar. Probably both. Mom tries to act calm and placid in public, but she has a temper that rivals an active volcano—loud, fiery and destructive.
“I didn’t ask you, Travis,” I say.
“Of course I’ll be quiet. What kind of unmannered barbarian do you think I am?” Mom says stiffly.
Since she wouldn’t have put on her battle gear just to leave meekly, I let her and Travis in. I pour myself some coffee, but don’t offer them any.
“I’d like some tea,” Mom calls out, taking the armchair in the living room. She crosses her leg, right over left. She’s feeling justified about her issues and confident they’ll be resolved to her satisfaction.
Travis sits to her right, the view of the garden behind him. He pats Mom’s hand.There, there. It’s going to be okay, love. I’m here for you.
I gag inwardly.
“We don’t drink tea,” I say as I sit with my back to the kitchen. I saw various types in the pantry.
Her expression cools. “Then coffee?”
“I didn’t make enough for guests. No advance notice.”Get the hint and tell me why you’re here. Or better yet, leave.
“It’s rude for you to have coffee without offering me any.”
“Believe me, it’s better than my talking to youwithoutcoffee.”
That shuts her up. She knows I don’t do well without my morning brew. “Fine,” she says, taking a composing breath. “This is about you.”
“Me.” I let the word sit there and sip my coffee.
“I know you’re upset, and I can see why you didn’t invite any of us to your wedding. Although it was quite unfair, considering you invited Ted!”
“Heisthe father of the groom,” I say dryly.
“You don’t even like him.”
“I don’t, but he’s not a formal enemy.” I give her a meaningful look.
She blanches, then catches herself. But it’s too late. Her unintended reaction seems to fuel her rage over the injustice she suffered at my hand. “You made us sign papers! You could’ve at least invited us to the party last night! It was so embarrassing.”
Of course, this is about her all-important public image. “Don’t worry. No one knew that none of you were invited. People probably assumed you couldn’t come.”
“Which makes us look ungracious!”
“Then tell them the truth. And keep your voice down, Mother. You sound like a banshee with an air horn.” I don’t want her waking Luce up over this stupid stuff.
“I donotsound like a banshee!” Mom hisses. “And what you suggested would also make us look ungracious!”
“What do you want me to do about it?” I drain the last bit of coffee from my mug. There isn’t enough coffee in the world for this inanity. “I’m not going to decide the particular way that you should look ungracious.”
“You never used to be like this, Sebastian.” Her lower lip trembles. Her gaze is fixed on my reflection in the glass-top coffee table.
