Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
SAbrINA
“Damn it. She’ll see right through that.”
Adjusting my car’s rear-view mirror, I practice my smile again and again. Minimal teeth, no teeth, all teeth. Big grin with wide eyes. Shit. Nothing looks right.
There’s a tightness in my jaw that makes every smile look strained, and my red-rimmed eyes are noticeable even with my heavy use of concealer. My mom is going to take one look at me and know something is wrong.
And that’s the last thing I want. Today is supposed to be about her and dad.
Playing with one of the piercings on my ear, I eye the house. I do want to be here to support and celebrate with my family…but it’s also the last place I want to be too. The street is already lined with cars and people making their way into the house.
And that means mingling. Making small talk for hours on end.
I don’t have the patience or the mental strength to endure that today. I’m still reeling from quitting my job with no backup plan.
Mom being mom made sure that the street parking in front of the house was reserved for me and my siblings. There is literally a handmade “Reserved. Parking for Sabrina Sutton Only” sign sticking out of the lawn.
The lunacy of it finally brings a genuine grin to my face.
I probably have five minutes more of hanging out in my car before one of my parents or siblings spots me and drags me inside. Suzanne especially will not suffer in silence. She may be the oldest sibling, but she is the most dramatic.
My eyes drift from my childhood house to the house next door. A hot, tingly sensation begins to dance in my chest as I stare at the pretty house. How can one place hold so many good memories but also be the origin of evil?
“You’ve been sitting here for over seven minutes and staring at the Daws house like a damn creeper. Get out here, Bean.”
My sister’s voice jolts me out of my memories. My fingers dig into the material of my shirt, clutching my racing heart.
“Jesus, Suzie. You almost scared me to death.” I blow out a long breath.
“Good. You look like you need some colour on your cheeks. Why do you look like the walking dead?”
“Charming,” I bite back. Annoyed at being caught and having my looks insulted, I rush to get out of the car, fumbling at every stage. When I’m finally standing tall and fixing my outfit, I tilt my head up and notice Suzanne eyeing me.
“Stop looking at me.”
“Where the hell else am I supposed to look?”
“Anywhere else.”
“But you’re right in front of me. I can’t.”
Our childish banter breaks me out of my earlier funk. If anyone could make me forget that my life has now gone to shit—even for a little while—it’s Suzie.
“There you go. Now you have some colour on your face. You may be able to fool Mom for an additional half hour. Maybe even a full hour if you work the room right and keep your distance.”
“As if Mom would allow that,” I huff, linking my arm through hers, and we slowly make our way across the lawn.
“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you? I could sneak a bottle of wine down to the basement, and we can hide together.”
“Who are you hiding from? Isn’t your husband here to run interference?”
“No, he’s stuck for another hour at a work thing. And I was cornered by Cousin Aaron. He keeps trying to show me his vacation photos. The first one he shoved in my face was him in a Speedo. No, thank you.” She gives my arm a squeeze, making sure my attention is on her. “Stop trying to distract me with our annoying family. Do you want to talk about”—she waves her free arm in the air—“whatever?”
Stopping, I turn into Suzie. Wrapping both arms around her, I give her a tight, long hug.
“Thanks for asking, but no. I don’t want to talk about it. I need time to process. To stew in the mess I’ve made and go through all the stages of anger or whatever, then have a mid-life crisis about how I’ve ruined everything. Maybe after all that, we can talk. And drink.” I give a huff of laughter.
“I know as your older sister I’m supposed to tell you that everything is going to be okay and all that other crap. But honestly, if you need to feel your feelings, do that. Life can sometimes be a real bitch. I’ll be around when you need me.”
“Thanks, Suz. Right now, I need to get my butt in this house before Mom and Dad send out a search party.”
“Wouldn’t that be a highlight of their retirement party? Add some flavour?”
“No. They would never let me live it down, and we’d hear the story at every family gathering until the end of time.”
“Oh. Fair. Yeah, let’s get you inside.”
Suzanne pushes me toward the door and ducks behind me, making me laugh at her antics. When I get my balance again, I notice we’re being watched by some guests with stunned expressions. Giving them a nod, I grab my sister, and we march into the house together.
The main floor is already packed with people. My parents have lucked out with the Toronto weather and have the patio arranged so people can mingle outside. Which I have to believe is a blessing because although my childhood house is a decent size, my parents have never met a person they didn’t like…and it looks like they invited every single person they know.
I pause midway into the dining room, taken by surprise. Every available surface is covered with dishes of food. I was expecting everything to be in one-use aluminum bakeware pans, but the good china is filling up most of the space. That can’t be right.
“I thought we paid for a catering service as part of our gift.”
Suzanne chuckles, shaking her head. “We did. This is Mom’s version of a ‘ few more nibbles .’”
A headache starts to form behind my eyes. All the work we were trying to reduce for our mom so she could enjoy her retirement party ended up not working-—because of course it didn’t. It would feel like the end of the world if the woman rested for a moment.
“Well, at least we’ll have leftovers to eat for the next week,” I mutter, trying not to sound too frustrated by the situation.
“More like two,” Suzanne replies, giving my back a pinch so I start walking again. I try to smack her but miss. “Let’s go find Mom and Dad. The sooner they see you, the quicker we can start drinking.”
I nod, following her lead as she starts to zig and zag through the crowd. I’m stopped a couple of times by friendly faces and a few more times by people I have to pretend to know before I finally make it to the backyard. My parents are mingling on the grass with a large group of people.
As soon as my dad spots me, he raises both arms in the air and yells my name. His face lights up at seeing me and knowing the scene he’s making is embarrassing me. The glass of champagne he’s holding in one hand sloshes over the rim, and he dances away from the falling liquid. I can feel dozens of eyes on me.
A loud laugh escapes my lips as I shake a finger at him. “Serves you right, old man.”
“What?” he chuckles. “Can’t a father express joy at seeing his youngest child? I haven’t seen you in months.”
“You saw me a couple weeks ago, Dad. Don’t be so dramatic.”
He places his free hand against his chest, a humorous but exaggerated look of offense on his face. “Me? Dramatic? Never!”
I’m about to roll my eyes when he folds me into his arms. The hug is tight and long. After a few seconds, we begin to rock back and forth. The warmth of his embrace feels so good after the day I’ve had. Hell, the last month, really.
Tears well in my eyes, but I fight to hold them back. The last thing I want is for sad tears to be shed tonight. This is a celebration for my parents, not a pity party for me.
Giving him one last hard squeeze, I pull back and look up. “Congrats on your retirement.”
“Thank you, my love. Your mother thought this day would never come.”
“I think we all believed you’d teach forever.”
He opens his mouth, no doubt to provide me with some wisdom about how learning is an eternal blessing or whatever, but another voice cuts him off.
“My turn. My turn,” Mom scolds, pulling me away from Dad. I’m expecting a hug of hello from her as well, but instead, she grabs me by both cheeks and stares deep into my eyes.
Oh God, no.
“What’s happened, Sabrina?”
Son of a bitch. I knew she would do this. One look and she would know.
Damn, she’s good.
“Nothing. Everything is okay, Mom.”
Her eyes dart back and forth, looking deeper into mine. She doesn’t believe me—which is fair. I’m a crap liar, always have been. Yet she doesn’t push like I thought she would. Instead, she gives my cheeks a soft pat and then brings me in for a quick hug.
“You come talk to me when you’re ready. Okay?” I give her a nod, fighting back emotion. “Have you eaten? Let’s get you and your sister some food. Oh! Gwen! Look who finally arrived.” My mother gestures to me, and Gwen throws her head back on a laugh.
Under my breath, I curse at her comment. Right on time is apparently late. And she’s made a joke about it with her friend. Fabulous.
For the next hour, I’m introduced to people whose names I don’t catch and passed around to family members like I’m a teething baby. I realize they all know something is up with me, but I’m relieved no one is pushing the subject. I’m not ready to talk about any of it.
Or think about what my life will be like two weeks from now.
Urg, on that nauseating thought…
“Excuse me for a moment.” I smile at the group of couples I’ve mysteriously found myself surrounded by.
“Only a moment,” laughs one of the men. “I want to pick your brain on the NFL season. It’s not every day I meet a sports reporter who can give me the inside scoop.”
I force a strained smile, my eyebrows rising in fake agreement as I quickly turn for the door and make my exit. There’s no way I want to talk sports with him. It’s a general misconception that sports reporters have any insider knowledge. We see what the general public sees—we just have statistical knowledge to back up what we’re seeing and make general statements that sometimes play through to reality.
I’m not a person to ask for betting advice.
The buzz of chatter is everywhere in the house. It’s becoming a little too much, and I need a break from the noise and the crowds. Avoiding eye contact as much as I can, I fast walk through the house to the front door. Peeking out, I see there’s no one mingling on the lawn.
“Yes,” I whisper to myself, stepping out into the cool breeze. I feel instantly relieved. Heading in the direction of the Muskoka chairs that are tucked into the garden, I slip down into one and let out a long, calming breath.
This is harder than I thought it was going to be. I convinced myself that I could get through this party with no problem. No one would know that my career, and soon to follow, no doubt, my life, was crumbling around me.
I don’t regret the decision I made. Giving my notice was the right thing to do. I’ve been passed over for a promotion twice now in the last two years. Both times, I showed the powers that be that I could do the job and do the job well. And both times, I was overlooked in favour of a less experienced male colleague.
Being a woman in the sports world is hard—I knew this from day one. Yet this level of incompetence the Toronto Sphere is trusting with their live broadcasting is insulting. The quality of their reporting is teetering, and I had hoped I’d be one of the people to help restore it to its former glory.
I was wrong. Obviously.
So if that is the path they want to take, I don’t want my reputation or the quality of my work to be tarnished with them. I made the right choice. It just feels like a catastrophic event at the moment.
“You out here hiding, Bean?”
My slowly relaxing body tenses again at the noise. I’m so shocked by the interruption that my brain doesn’t process why the voice sounds so familiar.
I turn my head upward, an agreeable response on my tongue that dies the instant I see who it is.
A million different emotions and thoughts zoom through my head. My body goes hot, then cold, then hot again. I’m a whirlwind of contradictions and absolutely stunned into muteness.
He is the absolute last person I ever expected to see here. The last time we spoke, I truly believed it was the last. But standing just off to the side of me is the man I could never get a good read on and the boy I had once called my best friend.
Until he chose evil and became my nemesis.