Chapter 15 NORA
NORA
NERVES FLOOD MY SYSTEM.
I was thrown by the invitation to dinner and desperately tried to scramble my way out of it, but Zayden insisted we go. He seems almost excited, ready for the challenge, whereas I feel sick to my stomach.
They have the kind of house that smells like lemon polish and something expensive I can’t name.
There’s a fountain in the entryway now – because of course there is – and a staircase that curves like it belongs in a movie.
A brand-new black SUV sits in the circular drive.
They always have something new when I come over and it’s always out the front like it’s being displayed for the street to view.
I study the house, trying to see it with fresh eyes, attempting to guess what Zayden might think about it. It doesn’t look like a home. It looks like a picture in a magazine, belonging to a picture-perfect family that I very much don’t fit in with.
I keep telling myself that everything is going to be fine.
They’ll be respectful and polite in front of him.
Surely they won’t do or say anything too hurtful.
I keep repeating this, even though they have proven that they don’t care who is around when they talk down to me.
It’s clear to everyone I am an outsider, but I’d like to be positive about this.
I don’t want things to be tense and uncomfortable.
Zayden’s hand slips into mine. Exhaling a breathy sigh, I smile up at him.
Despite it all, I’m grateful that he’s here with me.
I feel so much less isolated now. I’m so happy he got such good results from the assignment he worked so hard on.
I wish we were out doing something fun together, instead of doing this.
He squeezes my hand gently as we walk towards the porch and climb up the steps. Zayden’s eyes lift, examining the gigantic house.
‘Nice house,’ he comments, looking impressed. ‘Big.’
The house is ridiculous. Like the kind you drive past in the nicer parts of town and wonder who lives there – and what they do to afford it.
‘Yeah.’
It was strange growing up. My mum had a small cottage on a farm.
It was run-down, small and cramped, but it was home.
When I would visit my father, he always had big, expensive houses that seemed a little sterile.
Almost like display homes. Maybe was never the house, but the general energy of it all, since I felt that way no matter what place they resided in.
It was always their home and I wasn’t a part of it. I was simply a guest. An unwanted one.
Zayden knocks on the door. Footsteps descend towards us and I inhale deeply.
You’ve got this, I whisper to myself. Stay calm.
The front door swings open. My stepmum stands there, her eyes going straight to Zayden.
She physically flinches, as if the sight of us is a slap in the face.
Her lips part as she openly stares at his appearance.
The messy, finger-combed hair, the button-up shirt that’s only halfway buttoned up, revealing his smooth, hard chest. His tattoos peek out between the fabric and since the shirt is rolled to his elbows, it’s very obvious that he also has two sleeves.
I personally think he looks hot as hell and had to wipe drool off my chin when he stepped out of his room like this.
Clearly, my family does not share the same view.
‘Hey,’ he says when the silence stretches to an uncomfortable length of time. ‘I’m Zayden.’
Snapping her mouth shut, my stepmum offers her forced, fake smile. ‘Hello, I’m Michelle.’ That unsettling gaze darts to me and the hostility in her face and voice is so painfully evident, she may as well have a neon sign above her head telling the world she does not think much of me. ‘Nora.’
‘Hello,’ I mumble, my voice barely audible.
Her eyes slowly travel down my body. I’m wearing a simple dress and slides. Nothing out of the ordinary. Everybody else dressed very smart for dinner. This dress was good enough, in my opinion.
‘Lovely to see you,’ she says, her voice weighted with disdain. Those cat-like eyes shift to Zayden at a speed that should be studied. ‘We are all very excited to get to know you, Zach.’
‘Zayden,’ he corrects her, and the sarcastic smile on his face makes me chew the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling.
‘Apologies,’ she says, turning her back to us as she leads us to the table.
He scans the walls, which are lined with neat, organised photo frames with professional, awkward-looking family portraits in them.
Portraits that include everyone except me.
Zayden notices this straight away because he frowns, glancing at me like he’s confused, and I look back at him, trying to communicate ‘I told you’ with my eyes.
Even though we arrived ten minutes early, the rest of the family are all seated, their drinks almost empty, as if they’ve been here for an hour.
Zayden’s eyes linger on the drinks and I wonder if he’s made the same observation as I have.
It makes me feel less crazy having someone here with me, noticing all of these little things.
Like how they go above and beyond to exclude me in every way they can think of.
I don’t understand why I even get invited to these dinners.
Maybe they enjoy talking down to me. Picking apart my life is like a game to them.
‘Here he is!’ Lindsay shouts, her high-pitched voice making me wince as she stands, her heels so gigantic she towers over all us other women. Her smile is vicious as she strides towards us, wearing a tight, low-cut top that leaves nothing to the imagination. ‘The man of the hour. Zade!’
I can’t help but release a huff when they purposely say his name wrong for the second time in three minutes.
Did they organise to do this prior? A way to make him feel degraded the moment he’s stepped through the door?
Ignoring me, she wraps her arms around Zayden, yanking him roughly to her, plastering their bodies together.
‘Zayden,’ he says, stepping back, appearing a little uneasy, glancing at me again, still confused.
‘Oops,’ she giggles. ‘Must be the wine.’ Reaching for his hand, and still not acknowledging me, she drags him over to the table. ‘Here, you can sit right beside me.’
‘Ah …’ Zayden stares at the one seat between her and my father and then back at me.
‘Daughter,’ my father greets me, standing. God only knows why he’s wearing a suit to dinner. He never does that. He fixes the button up as he walks over and pats me awkwardly, like I’m his dog, not his child.
‘Hello,’ Zayden says, standing a little straighter. ‘Wayne, is it?’
‘Mmhmm,’ my father says, his beady eyes assessing Zayden like he’s hunting an animal to slaughter.
‘Zayden. Nice to meet you.’
Kyle is next. My stepbrother has two sides to him. He’s either unbearably obnoxious or he’s quiet, so I stay by him if I’m feeling like I need to hide away. I don’t know which side of him will be out to play tonight. As he’s a surgeon, it all depends on what’s happened at work that day.
Lindsay’s husband looks like he’s been copied and pasted out of a magazine exposé about men who dress like douches. Maybe I should write an article like that. I feel like all of them could star in it.
‘Hello,’ Joshua says, voice clipped and cold, as per usual. He shakes Zayden’s hand and offers me a next-to-nothing smile. ‘Nora.’
‘Hi Josh.’
Since everyone has been reshuffled, when I take a seat, Zayden hastily drops into the one beside me, ignoring the glare from Lindsay as he does.
Reaching for the wine, I pour myself a generous glass, and someone places a beer down in front of Zayden. They don’t often drink beer, but I’m thankful one of the boys was thoughtful enough to grab him one. I feel like both of us are in need of some liquid courage to get through tonight.
I take a nervous gulp.
‘What’s new with you?’ Michelle asks, leaning back in her chair and rotating her wine glass back and forth in her hand as she stares across the table. The way they stare expectantly makes me feel like we’re being interrogated.
‘Not a lot,’ I reply.
Zayden’s eyes burn holes into my skin. I know he wants me to share all of the incredible things happening for me with my writing, but I don’t feel comfortable doing that with them.
I don’t want them to pry into my life and discover such personal and vulnerable things about me.
It’s something so special, I don’t want it to be ruined by them.
‘Nora is blitzing her assessments. She’s so good that she’s now tutoring others,’ Zayden pipes up, and I turn to stare at him. Warmth spreads through me like fire as I gaze at him.
‘That’s great,’ my father says. ‘I mean, how hard could an arts degree be? She should be getting top marks.’
My father has a way with words. It somehow feels like he can prick me with a needle and deflate me with just one sentence. My mood sours considerably and I lean heavily back into my seat, feeling defeated. This night is going to be a disaster and I shouldn’t have expected anything less.
The pure shock on Zayden’s face validates me. It’s kind of nice to be reassured that the way they speak to me is not all in my head and I’m not being overdramatic.
‘How did you two meet?’ Joshua asks, slinging an arm around the back of Lindsay’s chair.
‘Nora is good friends with my sister. She introduced us, and since she’s over a lot, I couldn’t help but fall for her,’ he replies, voice smooth and undeterred by their watchful eyes and not-sosubtle exchange of glances.
‘Lovely,’ Josh replies, sounding bored and sarcastic at the same time.
‘She was “over”?’ My father repeats Zayden’s words, somehow making his voice sound odd, as if Zayden had said something strange. ‘To your house, you mean?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘You own your own home?’ he asks, and Zayden locks eyes with me briefly, since I told him that my father would ask him this, and that it would be within the first ten minutes.
‘I rent it with my sister and best friend.’