Page 12 of Cabin Fever

“Pam at guest services.”

“Excellent. Love Pam.” She scans the room over her glass. “You forgot your black jacket.”

I glance down at my sleeveless silk top and frown.

Priya laughs. “Because you’re standing here like one of the staff.”

I grin. “Mm. Thank you.” I know I should walk over and start talking to people, but I’m avoiding it as long as possible. “I don’t know how she’s doing this,” I whisper. Dahlia’s a few tables over, laughing in her tight burgundy dress with our father taking his seat across the room.

“She’s struggling just like you.” Priya nudges my elbow. “She’s just better at hiding it.”

I nod. It’s true. She may have voted for Dad to come, but it was because she felt like it was the right thing to do. Not because she was excited about it.

When we were little, I remember finding her crying in her room after our cat died. In the moment, she said things like, “It’s okay because she was old” or “Now she’ll get to be with her family in heaven.” I was the one curled up on the couch, refusing to talk to anyone while Dahlia was ready to dig a hole in the backyard. She even brought me a popsicle. There’s still a faint pink stain on Mom’s couch from where I let it drip.

A ripple of laughter rises from the bar end of the room. I turn to see Dahlia’s bridesmaids circling Finn like he’s about to do a magic show. Sadie has a hand flat on his forearm. Marisol is leaning over so her boobs nearly fall out of her dress. They’re great boobs, I have to admit.

He says something, the whole cluster breaks up laughing, and that old, stupid jealousy climbs the ladder of my spine and starts screaming from the top rung. I’m fifteen again, standing behind the fence.

I reach for one of Priya’s glasses of wine and take a gulp.

“Okay! Now the party’s starting!” Priya grabs my arm and drags me into the fray, but I can’t stop glancing over at Finn and the girls.

He’s not doing anything wrong. He's the best man. His job description is literally this. But when I see my dad rise from his seat, holding his place card, and waltz over to Theo and Dahlia’s table at the front, I want to punch both of them in the face.

“Hold,” Priya says, feeling me tense.

“What the hell is he doing?”

“Which one?” She gives me a look, but before I can answer, Dahlia’s hugging me.

“This is amazing! Thank you so much, Harp!”

I laugh. “Hey, it was your and Theo’s money.”

She pulls back with a grimace, gripping my shoulders, and she doesn’t have to ask the question. It’s written all over her face.

“I’m fine.” I lean in. “But Dad just sat down next to Theo.”

Dahlia looks confused for a moment, then her eyes widen. She peers over my shoulder, curses under her breath, then smiles and excuses herself. I have half a mind to go with her, but my mom is laughing louder than necessary, talking with Aunt Bev, who’s very confused as to why she’s now sitting next to an empty chair.

I’m about to walk in their direction when I see Finn’s eyes on me. He’s peering over Sadie's head, thrown back mid-laugh. When our gazes lock, it’s like someone plugged my ears with wax, the conversations around me fading, my pulse pounding at my throat.

I flash what has to be a creepy doll smile and rush toward my mom.

Together, the three Quinn women corral the group to their seats so the servers can plate our salads. All except my father. He’s still sitting at Dahlia’s table. He borrowed a chair from somewhere and wedged in at the corner between Mom and Theo's grandmother, and nobody stopped him. Let’s be honest, nobody has ever stopped my father.

We get through the first half of the meal, and even though I’m listening to my cousin Garrett talk about his pediatric residency, I catch every other word in my dad’s conversation. He’s telling the raccoon-in-the-church-basement story, and it has a new ending now. It’s funnier. Theo's grandmother laughs so hard she has to pull out her handkerchief.

“. . . but it’s only six months, you know?”

I nod, having no idea what I’m supposed to know. “It’s amazing, Garrett. You’re going to be an incredible doctor.”

He sighs, reaching for his drink. “I’m just glad Dahlia decided to get married before the end of June, or I wouldn’t have been able to come.”

“Do all residencies start in the summer?” I take another bite of salmon. It’s surprisingly good. Flaky and drenched in lemon.

Garrett explains more about his residency placement and starts a conversation with Theo’s half-brother, Chris, who’s sitting across from us. When Dahlia suggested we mix up the tables and not sit with the people in our family we know best, I wasn’t her biggest fan. With all the stress of this event, the last thing I wanted to do was chat with strangers or estranged family members. But I have to admit, this is nice. Chris did a humanitarian trip with Doctors Without Borders. Not as a doctor, but as support staff, since he speaks fluent Portuguese. I’m so enjoying our conversation that it’s a little disappointing when someone’s voice sounds over the microphone.