Chapter 30 #2
“Ah, Iris. There’s your mistake,” he says, pointing his fork at me as he speaks, as if he’s imposing great wisdom upon us all, his two daughters staring into their plates beside him. “You never leave a woman in charge of a man’s job.”
I cut my eyes to Millie and Eloise, silently begging them not to listen to any of the shit he’s spouting.
My hand balls up into a fist under the table as I do everything in my power not to go off on him.
Ripley’s hand engulfs mine, comforting me in the only way he can at this moment.
I swallow the lump in my throat, cursing myself for letting him get to me.
“So, Quinn—” Jonathan says.
“Ripley. I go by Ripley, not Quinn,” he tells him.
Jonathan bristles, and I have to hide my smirk.
He isn’t used to people speaking over him or correcting him.
He’s used to fear masked as respect. Part of me wishes Ripley would pull back, leave the sass for me where he’s safe to express it.
The other part of me is glad someone at the table isn’t scared of putting Jonathan Cassidy in his place, even if it’s just in this small way.
“Okay, Ripley, how’s life in—where did you say you’re from?” he asks as he cuts into the nearly raw steak on his plate—the sound of the metal on ceramic grating my ears—not meeting Ripley’s eyes as he speaks to him.
“I didn’t.”
Fuck. He’s playing with fire. I should stop him, but I’m frozen, not sure how to intervene without showing how much I love Ripley or pissing my dad off even more.
My dad waves his hand through the air, gesturing for Ripley to tell him where he’s from because asking would be too human apparently.
“I’m from South Carolina,” Ripley says, sitting up in his seat like he’s waiting for some kind of quip in response.
The rest of the table is silent, focused on their food.
No one looks up. It’s ingrained in them the same way it is for me, when Jonathan is speaking, they’re to be quiet.
I knew before this moment how fucked our family is, I knew he raised us to fear him, but I didn’t see it through the lens of someone else.
It makes me wonder how Ripley sees us, what he thinks of the dynamic at this table.
Does he pity us? Is he angry for us? At us?
“Ah, that’s where the accent is from. How’s life in South Carolina? Do you have yourself a nice girl? Maybe you could help Seth land one. He seems to have trouble with women.”
My breath catches at my father’s words. I can’t decide if I think he’s baiting Ripley or me. I’ve never once spoken of my dating life with him, and he’s never asked.
Just when I think the conversation can’t get any worse, Ripley says, “Well, I’m gay, so no, I don’t.”
The statement brings every set of eyes to him as silverware drops and clinks against the plates. My sisters, my stepmother, they all gape at him in horror because they know as well as I do there’s no way this will end well.
The edge of easiness my father speaks with is suddenly gone, replaced by disapproval for someone he can’t control.
After what feels like forever, he responds with, “What an interesting choice to make.”
My heart is beating in my ears, and I want to vomit. I want to defend him, scream at my father for insinuating Ripley is less than for who he is. For once in my life, I want to stand up to him, but I can’t make myself force the words out.
I can’t push myself to do what I know needs to be done. I need to get out of here, I need to extract myself from the toxic waste of this family.
My stepmother breaks the silence as she changes the topic and asks the girls about their day, and dinner proceeds as if a bomb wasn’t just dropped in the middle of the table.
I try to listen, but all I can do is think about how I’ll spin this dinner the next time I see my father.
How will I explain why I brought a gay man into his home?
How will I ever tell any of them I’m gay?
My leg bounces under the table as my spiral continues. Ripley grabs it, stopping me before anyone notices. How will he even look at me after this? How will I face him after not saying one goddamn word to defend him?
Someone asks about Liam, but I’m barely paying attention. His presence or lack thereof was the last thing on my mind when we walked in. I hear Patricia tell the table Liam is busy with work. Unlike me, he’s of course excused from a family dinner, I would expect nothing less.
“Remind me what his girlfriend’s name is?” my father says to Patricia, another silent dig at me, I’m sure. Or maybe it’s a dig at Ripley, it’s hard to say at this point.
“Mandy,” she tells him, a smile shining on her face.
“I like her,” Millie says. “She seems nice.”
“Oh, she’s a delight,” Patricia beams. “I’ve told Liam she’s welcome anytime.”
I guess staying away unless I’m invited is only a rule for me. The one time I showed up unannounced, I was told it was rude. Her words don’t hurt though. I only come here for the twins. Never seeing her or my father again would be a fucking blessing.
The steady clinks of the silverware and the sound of chewing are the only noises as silence falls over the table once again. The air feels suffocating to the point I consider getting up and leaving just to be done with the torment.
“The asparagus is really great,” Ripley says, cutting through the silence. I go stiff. He means well, but no compliment will make this any less painful. There’s no winning them over.
Patricia mumbles a “Mhmm” instead of saying thank you like any sane person would. His hand is still on my leg, so I put mine on top of it, giving him a squeeze. I appreciate him trying, there just isn’t any use.
They continue to make small talk about people I don’t know, the conversation stilted and uncomfortable, leaving Ripley and me to stew in the awkwardness of it all.
My father was right, I should have left Ripley to his own devices.
We didn’t even talk on the ride over, so what was the point in bringing him?
I’ve disassociated to the point that I don’t realize dinner is over until Ripley pushes back his chair beside me.
Snapping out of my haze, I place my napkin on the table and stand.
My father and stepmother have already left the room, disappearing farther into the house without the decency of a goodbye. I shouldn’t be surprised.
Eloise walks up to me, giving me a side hug as she says, “Sorry Dad was rude to your friend.” She shouldn’t feel the need to apologize for him, but I know exactly where she’s coming from.
“Yeah, I had so many questions I wanted to ask,” Millie chimes in, a bit of a whine to her voice.
Despite it all, I laugh, knowing it took everything in her to hold them in. “Oh, I’m sure you did,” I say to her, my voice cracking at the end of my sentence, wishing I could be honest with them both. “Maybe another time.” If things were different, I’d think she and Ripley would hit it off.
El steps away, and Millie leans in for a hug. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Eloise walk over to Ripley.
“Thank you for sticking up for him, no one ever does,” she says in a quiet voice then throws her arms around Ripley’s waist. The hug only lasts for a second, not even long enough for Ripley to react, but as she pulls away, his glassy eyes bore into me.
I clear my throat, ready to get out of this fucking house.
“We should go,” I tell him as I push my chair in. “Bye, Mills. Bye El. Love you both.” Ripley waves as I pull him from the room.
After grabbing our jackets from the hall closet, we exit the house, neither of us speaking on the way to the car.
As soon as the passenger door shuts, Ripley turns to me. “So that was a-fucking-lot.”
His tone is serious, not mocking, but I don’t know what to say. So I just nod my head as I start the car, wishing this was a nightmare I’ll wake up from instead of my reality.