Chapter 22
twenty-two
GRANT
When we walk out of the steel elevator and into Keller’s open-air concept apartment, I have Lily’s hand in a death grip. I apologized to her and loosened my hold on the trip up. Subconsciously, my grasp keeps tightening, clutching onto her like a lifeline.
Tonight consists of firsts. The first time I don’t expect to sit by myself in silence, while everyone around me converses.
It’s the first time I’m bringing a partner around my relatives.
Both those firsts linger in my head when one of Keller’s employees takes our sweaters and Liliana gives me a confused glance.
Neither of them is the reason I cling onto Lily. What magnetizes me to her so desperately is the fact that, for once, I have someone here on my side, that understands and truly knows me.
For the first time, I’m not alone.
Another one of my father’s employees is busy aligning the mismatched navy and bronze dishware, and I realize that on the drive home, I can rant about Keller’s horrible color choices to someone. It's a mundane fantasy to have. And yet, it’s what I look forward to the most.
Surprisingly, aside from the employees and the relatives I knew were going to be here, it’s empty.
The business partners my father mentioned in the McCarthy group chat are nowhere to be seen.
I’m as thankful as I can be in this situation.
At least I know how to navigate these people for a few hours.
Billie is the first to notice our presence in the dining room area.
She’s wearing a pink, bedazzled BIRTHDAY GIRL sash perfectly matched to her sequined cocktail dress.
It’s a visual reminder that my white collared shirt and beige cargo pants emphasizes our gap, again, but Liliana in her cotton spring dress makes me feel less of an outlier.
“There you are!” Billie runs up to us, red bottomed shoes clacking with her steps.
Liliana looks at me, confused, and I shrug. I told her they were going to dress formally. She thought I was exaggerating.
“Here we are.” The hand that isn’t wrapped around Liliana’s is shoved deep in my pocket, twitching. Am I supposed to hug Billie? Is she expecting me to? We’ve never greeted each other that way, but it is her birthday. I take too long to decide.
“Happy birthday.” Lily breaks the awkward silence and smiles. She retrieves a white envelope from her purse, my half-sister’s name scribbled on the front in cursive. “From us.”
The card passes between them, and inwardly I cringe. One of the napkins here must cost more than the gift card we decided on together, but she insisted we couldn’t show up empty handed.
I wait for Billie to grimace or clumsily mutter a “thank you” she doesn’t actually mean.
She examines the card, twists it back and forth in her hands like she’s never seen one before. Locke is walking towards us, cleanly pressed suit being another symbol of our gap.
A strange guilt builds in my chest.
“Sorry it’s not a better present.”
“Don’t be sorry!” Billie shakes her head and presses the envelope to her chest. “I love it! Did you write a note?”
“You love it?”
“We did.” Lily answers, my question ignored. She squeezes my hand. “We both did. We hope you like it.”
“I love it, really.” It’s the calmest I’ve ever heard her speak. Her voice is small, like she doesn’t want anyone other than us to hear her. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. Thank you so much.”
The best gift she’s ever gotten? I search her face for any smirk, or a sign she’s biting her tongue to keep from laughing. It must be a joke. With our father’s money, she must have been given the world and then some. No stone unturned if she asked.
Billie’s expression doesn’t shift. She holds that envelope to her chest like it’s the most precious thing in the world to her, and bounces her gaze between us, full of gratitude.
“You got a card?”
Locke made it across the room, Keller gone to who knows where and letting him out of the conversation they were held up in. He fixes his glasses and points a look at Billie’s gift.
“Yes!” She jumps, holding it out and showing it off. “Can you believe it? Grant and Liliana got it for me!”
Locke grunts and moves his glasses out of, and back into place.
Billie’s abundance of energy starts flowing back, and she smacks Locke across his shoulder. “You didn’t get me shit.”
He doesn’t seem phased. Just staring at her with a blank face and leveled tone. “What did you get me for my birthday?”
“I would get you a gift if you got me a gift.”
“For me to get you a gift, you would have to get me a gift, idiot.”
The corner of his mouth twitches just slightly, and I realize it’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to seeing Locke smile.
“Kids.” Mina is nursing a tall glass of champagne. It doesn’t go unnoticed to me that she makes no attempt to introduce herself to Liliana. Instead, she waves her hand to the table, stacked with foods I don’t recognize. “Come sit. Dinner is ready.”
Keller’s private chef explains the kobe beef we’re eating tonight is, “authentic, fresh, and flown in from Japan this morning.”
I’m not sure how it’s possible to fake beef, and why it needs to be specially imported, but Billie squeals when she cuts into her steak.
Sometime in the past I’m sure she’s travelled to Japan and gushed about how much she liked this dish, and then her father made it a reoccurrence for her, because he can.
“So, Liliana,” Keller calls from that spot at the head of the table. I try to focus my attention on the food in front of me, and not the smug tint in his voice. “You attend Brookstone with Grant, correct?”
“That’s right.” Lily’s hand taps my knee under the table, and it grounds me. There’s a line cut into my plate, where I hadn’t realized I’d already made it through the meat.
“Interesting. You’re the study partner Grant meets with every Thursday?”
Her hand stutters, and I glance at her. I’d been so caught up trying to deal with my emotions leading up to today, swallowing the fact that the first family members who would meet my girlfriend are these people, that our white lie slipped my mind.
I forgot about it completely over the last month or so, if I’m honest.
Lily only falters for a moment before composing her smile. “That’s also right.”
“So you’re an art student?”
It’s Keller I look at this time. He’s smirking. I press my tongue into the top of my mouth to keep the words at bay. Why is he being even more of a dick than usual?
He smiles like he isn’t, like it’s an innocent series of questions. But his parting words at the mall and Locke’s nervous fidgeting tell me enough. It’s a test.
Liliana nods, stares my father down. “Yeah, you could say that.”
A warm feeling spreads around my chest. It’s the first time she’s ever admitted she’s an artist in some capacity. I’m so proud.
“Is that so?” Keller’s face is devoid of the playful glint he had seconds ago. A stern expression takes over his features, the same one I saw after he shouted at Locke and Billie.
They’re engrossed in their food and avoiding the conversation. My stepmother is flagging down another waiter, shaking her champagne glass.
Everything points at this being too serious for small talking your kid’s girlfriend.
“She’s a writing student.” I manage after scarfing down what might be the last bit of food I’ll get before it turns cold. “So, art, yeah.”
“That’s not your sort of art, son.”
I shrug off the nickname. “It’s still art.”
“Is she…” Keller juts his fork out in Liliana’s direction accusingly. Something about it feels more malicious than just some silverware, and I have the instinct to put myself in the middle. To get him off Lily, even if it means metaphorically.
The ugly gold glimmers when he waves it at her dramatically. “Is she the reason you’re stuck on this art crap?”
“Excuse me?”
We say it at the same time. Lily’s surprise and my annoyance mixing in the mess Keller starts. I shake my head at Liliana when she opens her mouth again. She’s here to support me, and for that I’m grateful, but I won’t let her shoulder my father’s intimidation tactics.
“What are you asking?”
“Is this girlfriend of yours the reason you won’t let go of this art stuff?” Keller waves his fork at the air this time.
“No?” The question doesn’t make sense. Billie glances over at me with an equally baffled look on her face. I’m used to awkward hours spent with Keller, but this is pure confusion and annoyance. “We didn’t even meet until college.”
“See.” My father’s fork hits his plate, hands in the air. “That’s what I’m talking about. She’s the one that told you to study art in college?”
My vision ping pongs around the room, searching for someone to make sense of this. The only person who I think would have an answer is staring down at his charred mushrooms.
Keller continues ranting. “Grant, son, I don’t know how she got you going down an art path, but one degree is enough. You need to focus on something closer to business, or marketing, or engineering. Like your brother.”
Locke looks up from his food, messes with his glasses, then looks back down.
I don’t even try to stop my eyes from rolling.
“I’m serious. Just because she,” Keller says, throwing a side eye to Lily as if she’s not there. Her hand grips mine under the table and anger surges through me. “Can waste two degrees on useless subjects, doesn’t mean you can.”
I don’t know where it’s coming from. The sudden need to coddle me like I’m his son who he’s been trying to set down one path my whole life, only to deter for another. His face is red, like he’s been fighting this subject tirelessly, when I can count the times we’ve discussed it on one hand.
They’re few and far between, but every time a reminder that he doesn’t know me at all.
“Liliana has a bachelor’s degree in psychology,” I tell him. “And the woman who convinced me to pursue art was my mother. Remember her?”
The room instantly falls into silence. Only the cars below can be heard but even that can’t distract from how heavy the air has become.