Chapter Thirty-Four #2
I leaned back and swiped my fingers under my eyes, checking my makeup in the visor mirror. After drawing in a deep breath, I nodded. “Let’s do this.”
By the time we climbed up the steps and reached the front door, Glamma had already sprung it wide open.
She tugged me into a fierce embrace. “Oh, sweetheart. You just say the word and I’ll make their lives very uncomfortable.
I know people.” She pulled back and winked.
“Well, I knew people, hypothetically speaking, of course, that may or may not have had ties to a former crime family that operated in Rhode Island.”
I grinned and kissed her cheek, warmth flooding through me. “Your hypothetical secret is safe with me. But no—I think him living unhappily-ever-after with my sister is a better punishment.”
Glamma released me, threw back her head, and laughed. “Oh, I do love the way your mind works, dear.”
Drew hugged her and asked, “What are you doing here?”
She let out a long-suffering sigh. “Martha needed help serving the guests. Though between you and me, I suggested adding a little something extra to their plates—to speed things along digestively speaking—and she said it might be ‘construed as assault.’” Glamma made air quotes with her fingers.
“Where’s the fun in playing by the rules? ”
I laughed and linked my arm through hers once she and Drew separated. “I’d rather you weren’t arrested defending my honor.”
“Well, when you put it that way …” She patted my hand. “But for the record, that family of yours doesn’t deserve you. And I also happen to be good friends with the chief of police.”
Hearing her say it out loud unraveled some of the hurt I’d felt that, before coming to Ruby River, no one else had noticed.
“I thought I heard voices!” Celia practically floated into the room, all smiles and gracious hostess energy. “So nice of you to finally show up, sis.”
Deep breath. You can do this.
I shrugged. “Where is everyone?”
“We’re out on the back patio. Dad’s cousins and their kids are here. And so is Auntie Betty and the wedding party. Small and intimate, just the way I like it.”
I frowned. That was the exact opposite of how Celia liked anything. I opened my mouth to point that out, but then the cameraman rounded the corner. “Can’t wait to see everyone.”
I might be done with my family, but I didn’t need to be painted as the villain on camera.
We followed Celia out the back door. Martha had strung sparkling fairy lights among the trees, and they twinkled throughout the back garden.
Standing heaters made the patio toasty despite the fall chill.
Several tables had been arranged around the cobblestone courtyard below, and I was surprised to find Drew’s family in attendance as well.
My eyebrows rose as they each waved or winked at me.
Drew slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. He pressed a kiss at my temple and whispered, “They were invited the other day at Glamma’s Yard Games Extravaganza. They came tonight to support you.”
My throat tightened with unshed tears and I did my best to throw them all grateful glances.
I don’t deserve them.
You deserve everything, Bad Eleanor spoke up. And maybe she wasn’t so bad. Afterall, she was me, and I was her. And it was time I decided to make sure I didn’t accept the bare minimum when it came to the people in my life.
We ended up seated at the far end of the table near Drew’s family, and I was happy to be at a distance from mine.
Martha, Goldie, Gladys, and Glamma served the first and second courses. As we ate, Celia cued up the slideshow of her and Kyle. My stomach rolled as most people around us oohed and ahhed over the images of them looking blissfully happy.
How many of these were taken while he was with me? I wondered. For the first time, that thought didn’t sting like it used to.
“Celia,” our cousin Joan called out. “How did you and Kyle get together? I’d thought he’d been dating—”
“For me it was love at first sight.” Kyle took Celia’s hand and kissed her fingertips.
My spine went rigid. Here we go.
Celia nodded and snuggled into his side, playing the role of smitten bride perfectly. Neither of them acknowledged what we all knew Joan was about to say.
I was pretty sure it was Grace who made a gagging sound.
Auntie Betty, my Mom’s cousin, turned her attention to me with genuine love in her expression. “So, Ellie, what have you been up to?”
This was my opening. I sat up straighter, feeling Drew’s hand settle reassuringly on my lower back. “I’ve been really busy working for Drew,” I paused, gathering my courage. “And I’m writing a book. A romance novel.”
Auntie Betty’s face lit up. “Ellie! That’s wonderful. I had no idea you were a writer. I’m so proud of you for pursuing that.”
Pride washed over me, warm and unfamiliar. For so long I’d kept my writing a secret, treating it like something shameful. But that shame wasn’t mine—it belonged to the people who’d made me feel small for having those dreams.
Celia laughed, the sound light and tinkling—a forced merriment that set my teeth on edge. “Oh, Auntie Betty. Don’t encourage her.”
The rumble that emanated from Drew’s chest was both protective and dangerous. Grace gasped. Their mother, Laura, opened her mouth, likely to defend me, but I beat her to it.
I’m not letting her get away with this.
“And why wouldn’t she encourage me, Celia?” I kept my tone neutral, as though acting genuinely curious, not accusatory.
Let her explain herself on camera.
“Oh, well, you know … ” she practically stuttered over each word.
Our mother shot me a warning glare across the table.
I ignored her. “No, I really don’t. Please explain it to me.”
“You’re writing smut, Ellie. It’s not like romance is ‘real’ literature.”
The words hung in the air like a slap.
What in the actual hell?
Heat crawled up my neck—not from embarrassment, but from anger. My sister really was a piece of work.
And why was I here again? Why did I think tonight would be any different?