Chapter 17
Addy
“Addison, I’m glad you could make it,” my mother greets, her affect as flat as ever. “Your brother will be glad to see you.” Really? I doubt he’d notice I wasn’t here unless someone asked where I was, and he had to come up with an answer on the fly.
“Hi, Mom.”
“You look beautiful, dear. That color suits you.”
I peer down at my conservative A-line silk dress with capped sleeves in a deep plum. I’ve been to enough of my parents’ parties to know it’s all about impressing the guests. The food, the location, the attire. Why have a festive backyard barbeque to celebrate someone’s accomplishments when I could be miserably uncomfortable talking to people I’m not interested in ever seeing again? And forget wearing something fun and exciting. That would only garner a lecture.
Grabbing an unidentifiable cocktail off of the tray of a passing server, I quickly toss back half the glass in an attempt to dull the pain of the agonizing evening before me. I’m making a concerted effort to support my brother, but I’m out of here the minute I can escape this hoity-toity soiree. These events always have a way of turning sideways. The stench of pretentiousness tends to leave me feeling claustrophobic. It’s as if the walls of self-importance are closing in on me. Once I start feeling overwhelmed, my polite facade comes down, and I’m libel to tell someone what I really think of this whole shindig.
“Addison, really?” My mother huffs.
Several older women, adorned in frumpy cocktail attire, enter the country club ballroom and greet my father. As my mother spots them, she heads in their direction without another word to me.
Hell’s bells. I hope they keep her distracted for the rest of the party. I meander down a hallway, taking in various pictures of celebrities who’ve played the club’s course as I sip the remainder of my cocktail. I anticipate there’ll be plenty more of these before I can repair my evening with a long hot shower and a good book.
“Excuse me. I’ve gotten turned around. Could you point me in the direction of the main ballroom?” a handsome man, probably in his early seventies, with a kind smile, asks. “Sure. It’s just down this hallway.”
“Thank you. It doesn’t take much for me to get lost these days. My eyesight isn’t what it used to be.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“My dear June used to lead me around. Alas, since she passed away, I’ve been trying to find my way in the world alone.”
My hand flies to my heart, this precious man. “Well, I don’t have a date this evening. Would you mind if we try to navigate the rest of the evening together?”
“I’d be honored, young lady,” he replies, a bit of a twinkle in his eye. “You’re attending the party in the ballroom?”
“Yes, Brad’s my brother.” I’m proud of him, even if I’m a little jealous that he was born with the academic genes I’d missed out on.
“Well, you come from quite an academic family. My late wife was a professor at Duke with your father for several years before he moved into research. Did you attend university nearby?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have much in common with my family. I didn’t go to college.” I pause, the familiar warmth of insecurity washing over me. “I’ve, uh…”
This kindhearted man stops in his tracks, giving me his undivided attention. He makes me feel as if I’ve known him for years.
“I have pretty severe dyslexia. I’m not cut out for that environment,” I say, wondering why I’ve shared this with him when I hide it from almost everyone else in my life.
“Ah. I see. I didn’t graduate college either. My June was the intellectual in our house. I made my living as a landscaper. I liked working with my hands,” he adds, patting mine. “I don’t have a lot in common with my wife’s colleagues and friends, but they’ve tolerated me over the years for her sake.”
As we stroll into the ballroom, my father looks over and smiles. “James, it’s nice to see you. I didn’t realize you’d met my daughter.” It dawns on me I haven’t even introduced myself.
“Oh, we’re old friends.” He winks. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Hi, Addison. It’s good to see you.” My father pulls me in for a quick peck on the cheek before noticing my mother’s outstretched arm beckoning him. “Duty calls. I’ll look for you later.”
Looking about the space, I find a table to discard my now empty cocktail glass before strolling back over to James. A pale, thin blonde about my age is standing at his side.
“I’m sorry, miss. I don’t work here.”
The uptight woman spins on her four-inch heels and skulks away without an apology. She might have knocked me over if she weighed more than eighty pounds.
“Who was that?” I giggle.
“Not sure. Apparently, I look like the wait staff.”
“Well, I think her hair is tied in that bun too tight.” I laugh. “Let’s go find a seat. Between you and me, once this party is underway, I’m heading for the door. This isn’t my crowd.”
Chuckling, he says, “I understand. Addison, is it? I’ll probably be close on your heels.”
* * *
The evening proceeds at a snail’s pace as these events usually do. It was nice to see Brad. It’s been longer than I realized since our whole family was in the same room. He genuinely seemed appreciative I attended his celebration. His girlfriend, however─
A hush falls over the room as Brad clinks a fork against his glass. “May I have your attention?” Brad pauses briefly to ensure all eyes are on him. “I want to thank each of you for taking time out of your busy schedules to help me celebrate my graduation from MIT. I’ve been offered a position with TDK Engineering in Boston.” He again hesitates for applause before continuing with his speech. “As well as an adjunct professor position at MIT,” he adds, grinning at my proud parents.
The room is overflowing with clapping, utensils against glassware, and ‘Here here’s’ in response to his announcement. I’m very happy for Brad. Yet I can’t help considering the reaction I’d receive. ‘And I landed a large order of penis cupcakes at the Honey Bunz Bakery and have a modeling gig at the next NASCAR race . ’ Biting my lip, I try to stay focused on the guest of honor as I feel James place a comforting hand on my back. Gah. I’ve barely known this dear man a few hours, and I’m sure he’s the kindest, most reassuring soul in the room.
“And while I have you all here, I thought I’d make the most of it.” Turning to his left, he extends a hand to the blonde who approached James earlier. She’s so thin you can practically see through her. “Lizbet, you’ve stood by my side over the last few years of grueling study at MIT.” He takes her hand in his. “I’d like to ask you, here in front of all of our family and friends, if you’ll remain by my side as we build a life together. Will you be my wife?”
Again, the room erupts with cheers as he pulls out a black velvet box and opens it to reveal a stunning diamond. He did a better job with the ring than he did with that proposal. It sounded as if he was offering her a job.
“Yes, Bradley. I’d be honored to be your wife.” Lizbet’s facial muscles don’t move a millimeter. I can’t help but consider whether she’s receiving Botox or if her bun really is too tight.
As the guests descend upon the newly engaged couple, I try to figure out the easiest way to move to the head of the line to wish them well before he announces he’s running for office. “James, I’m going to congratulate them so I can sneak out. It was so nice meeting you.”
“Not so fast, Bonnie. If you’re heading out, take Clyde with you,” he jokes as he points his thumb to his chest.
“Do you have a getaway car?” I laugh.
“As a matter of fact, I do. Meet you at the front door.”
Deciding to play the little sister card, I walk up behind my parents to join them in wishing Brad and Lizbet congratulations, just as I hear the hushed tones of my mother’s voice.
“It worked out pretty well that Addison and James spent the evening together. Their entertaining each other kept me from worrying about what they might say to our guests. I honestly don’t know what June saw in him.”
Steam billows from my ears. It’s official. My mother is the biggest snob on the planet. How can I be related to her? It figures someone like her couldn’t appreciate what a kind person James is. It’s as if you don’t count in this world without a diploma from an ivy league school.
I’ve had enough of this crap. Turning on my heel, I head toward where James is standing.
“That was fast, Bonnie. You okay?”
I try to focus on the generous soul who attended this party of ‘Shallow Hal’s’ out of respect for his dear wife. These attendees are half the person James is.
“Yeah, Clyde. Let’s cut and run.”