“Let it go, Kelsey,” mutters Eric.
That’s the wrong thing to say, because she pounces on it. “Then there is something to let go. I knew you’ve been keeping secrets from me.”
“What makes you say that?” I ask.
She curls her lip. “You’re not as subtle as you think. Tell me.”
I’m trying to think of some lie when Dad leans forward. “Enough of this. It’s ruining dinner. What Lucy is referring to is that your mother-in-law imagines her perfumes are magical and it’s a family curse or something. Absolute nonsense, but she feels strongly about it. Are you happy now? It’s nothing important.”
Mom’s face goes completely blank, and Dad looks pleased with himself, as if he’s finally won a battle in their ongoing war. My eyes dry out from how far they’ve widened. How could he?How could he?
It takes Kelsey a moment to react.
“Oh, funny.” She rolls her eyes. “Sure. Nice try.”
No one answers, and Kelsey’s expression fades to confusion while she looks at my dad as if trying to figure out whether he really was joking, in that unfunny way some men use to replace talking about how they feel. Unable to find an answer on his face, Kelsey turns to Eric. “Baby?” she asks.
He goes for his steak with such force it skitters off the plate. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Eric!” Mom’s voice isn’t scolding, but it’s definitely a reprimand.
Kelsey leans over her plate to stare at us, one by one. “You can’t think I’m going to fall for this. Curses? Come on.”
“That’s right,” I say. “Dad was just putting you on.”
This is a mistake, because Kelsey has been around Dad long enough to know that’s not something he does. “Wait,” she says slowly. “You can’t be serious?”
“I said drop it,” warns Eric.
Kelsey puts on her playground-mom voice. “I insist you tell methe truth.”
The silence around the table tells her what she wants to know. She bursts out laughing. “Figures. This figures. I knew this family was weird from the first time Eric introduced me, but this is too much. Magic perfumes?”
Eric stabs his fork into his mashed potatoes. “It’s not real. The Huas have probably exaggerated it over the years for social status.”
“Hey,” I say.
“Corporations study the impact of scent on mood and use the data to influence consumers,” he says, looking at me. “They create big mood maps from a database. There’s no magic. No power. No mystical shit. Nothing but science.”
“You researched that?” I ask, my hands clenched into fists under the table. “Were you that keen to find a way to put us down?”
He shrugs. “Dad told me.”
Mom hurriedly covers her look of betrayal, and Dad glares at Eric. “Enough.”
“This isn’t the point.” Kelsey speaks loudly enough that the people at a nearby table put down their knives to listen harder. Mom’s face is pink. “The point is I had a right to know.”
My mother stiffens. “A right? It has nothing to do with you.”
But Kelsey’s mind has ticked over to a new track. “Oh my God,” she says. “My samples. My luxury-gift-bag samples. Did you do something to them?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mom says.
Kelsey ignores her and stares at me, no doubt correctly pegging me as the weaker link. I don’t look at Mom this time because I know I can’t lie. “They may have been…” I search for a word that will resonate with her but is less judgmental thancursed. “Enchanted.”
With an almost flawless sense of comedic timing, the server comes up to ask if we’re enjoying ourselves. “I was until two minutes ago,” mutters Dad, like he didn’t start this, while my mother, in a slightlylouder voice, says everything is fine, thank you.
Kelsey’s attention has moved from me to Eric, who looks bored and irritated. “Is this true?” she demands. “You’recursed?”
