Harper looks at me sharply. “I wish I had an answer. It’s supposed to be a celebration that Grandpa is doing better, but nobody looks very happy, do they?”
“A bunch of vultures,” Nash mutters, rather loudly in my opinion.
Harper hums her agreement. The rest of the family makes their way to the table. Nash whispers names and connections in my ear. There’s no way I’ll keep them all straight, but the moral of the story is it’s a mix of aunts, great aunts, cousins, and uncles.
No one says anything besides Nash and Harper. I spot a girl farther down the table who’s making a funny face at Harper. “She looks like you.”
“That’s my older sister, Jackie, and right next to her is James.” Harper smiles at me. “How did Nash convince you to come tonight? Didn’t he warn you how awkward family dinners are?”
“He warned me, but maybe not enough,” I reply with a laugh.
Nash gives me a little glare, and I grin back at him.
But Harper is right—this dinner is one of the most awkward events of my life. Nash even holds my hand under the table as reassurance. There isn’t a regular flow of conversation like most social gatherings. No, not here. It’s a volley of shots fired intent on maximum damage inflicted. I’m convinced that no one in this room likes each other—even the ones that are married to each other.
“Are they always like this?” I whisper as he leans close. He smells good, and I can’t help but take a second sniff.
“Yes. No one knows how to be normal in this family,” he whispers back.
As dinner wraps up, everyone moves to the living room. The conversation at least seems to liven up, and Nash is doing his best to talk with multiple cousins. Harper is the only one who bothers trying to talk with me.We end up standing next to the hearth as Kevin and Great Aunt Catherine begin arguing about the best schools.
Harper rolls her eyes and whispers to me, “This is the part where I disappear. It’s my gap year, and they’re convinced I’m going to go to a college of their choice. I’d rather hitchhike across the country than do that.”
She leaves the room, and I find that I don’t care to listen to the family discuss which Ivy League college would be best for Harper.
I duck out of the side door Harper just exited through.
Nash is deep in conversation with James, so I don’t think he’ll miss me. I hurry up the main stairs and find my way to Alexander’s room.
I knock on the heavy oak door.
The nurse opens it and greets me with a smile.
“Hi,” I whisper. “I don’t want to wake him up, but I was hoping I could say hi if he’s feeling up to it.” As far as I know, he still hasn’t made it downstairs, so I’m not quite sure why he wanted to have the family dinner if he couldn’t be there too.
“Who’s there?” Alexander’s voice rings throughout the room, and Mary casts her eyes heavenward, as though praying for patience.
“It’s Magnolia,” Mary tells him.
“Send her in,” he barks back.
Mary steps aside, and I walk into the room.
“Hello,” I greet him softly.
Despite his booming voice and snapping orders, he looks his age lying on that bed. How are we supposed to tell him the truth? It’s not fair of Nash to want this right now.
“You’re not downstairs drinking my vintage wine with the rest of my family,” he accuses in an amused tone.
I shrug. “I’m not really a wine person. I guess I have no taste.”
He points to the stuffed chair, close to the bed. I sink down into it.
“No taste? Don’t disappoint me now.”
“It’s my best-kept secret. You’re not allowed to tell,” I tease.
A smile flits across his face. “Do you not drink?”
