“You must be wondering what all this is about.”
“No,” she lied, turning to her stove, busying herself. “Not my business.”
“Greta, there are things that should be said.”
She turned around.
“You and I, we had something.” Oliver’s expression was as tender as his tone. “I know you felt it, too.”
Greta did not nod. She could not allow herself to nod until she heard the rest.
Oliver gestured toward the kitchen door, to the noise of the party on the other side, the voices and the laughter. “I think all of that, out there, has messed up all of this, in here. Between us. And for that I am very sorry.”
This time Greta nodded. Oliver needed to know that she knew these things, that she had felt what he felt, and that now, she, too, was also very sorry.
Greta cleared her throat. “What does she want?” It was not really her business, and yet she felt she had the right to ask. It was up to Oliver whether he answered or not.
“Sissy is having second thoughts.” He looked up at the ceiling as if this pained him, too. “She’s not decided what to do yet, but she has asked me to help her. If she decides…”
“To run away?” Greta finished the sentence for him. Now there were no secrets. Except for one. “Would you go with her?”
Oliver swallowed. The hesitation was all Greta needed. She crossed her arms against her ribs, holding herself together. “You should go with her.”
“What? But she hasn’t made up her mind yet.”
“What about your mind?” Greta exhaled, a fresh wave of hurt filling the space where foolish hope had just burned. Was it rage she was feeling? Yes, she decided.
“No, you don’t understand,” Oliver began. “She just needs to know I’m here for her.”
“That’s not the question, Oliver. The question is whether or not youwantto be here for her.”
When he said nothing, Greta turned away. A server came in, followed by another. The dessert course was over. Servants passed in and out, carrying empty plates. In and out, like the breaths Greta was straining to take. She and Oliver were being swallowed by the rush of activity, like a tide, and Greta did not fight it. “I have to get back to work,” she said.
Later, when the dishwashers were humming and the dining room emptied and the last pots scrubbed, Oliver came back. He was holding the opossum. “Can you watch him for me? I don’t know yet how long for.”
Greta felt her mouth open and close. Then she felt her arms open and close as she accepted the opossum. She was aware of his warm bulk, of his little nose pressing into the crook of her arm. And of Oliver, leaning in, quickly, his lips brushing her forehead. The words “Thank you” leaving his mouth. And the side door closing as he exited into the night.
That’s when the kitchen door swung open. When Francine and Holly and Linus and Bee came and took one look at her andcircled around her. That’s when the tender part of herself tucked behind her ribs, the part her mother always warned her to keep separate, fractured just a little bit more.
“Sissy can’t do this to her legion of fans,” Linus said now. “They’ve been following her wedding weekend post by post. Tomorrow is the big day! She can’t just cancel on them.”
“Her fans?” Holly sputtered. “What about her fiancé? And her family?”
“This is all very disappointing,” Francine weighed in. “Everything was so beautiful tonight. Like something out of a fairy tale.”
“And now the prince may be left at the altar.” Holly slumped onto a kitchen stool.
“So what?” They all turned to Bee. “If this girl does not want to get married, it’s none of our business.”
“Oliver,” Linus said. “He’skind of our business.”
Everyone grew quiet again.
“If Sissy does cancel the wedding, and if the Suttons find out he’s involved, they may blame him. In which case, aren’t we at risk of losing final payment?”
“They wouldn’t blame us,” Francine said. “Would they?”
“They might,” Holly said miserably. “Our job is to host. Oliver is staff. If things fall apart with his hand in it, then aren’t we also somehow liable?”
