Chapter 32 #2
So this wasn’t a family dinner, as implied. This wouldn’t be a moment for me to shout at them, tell them to kiss my Dorset ass. Mother and Father had planned another soirée, another dinner party. I should’ve known.
I checked my phone, eager for one more bit of Asher in my mind before this travesty got underway. However, under the shadow of my parents’ mansion, an exploit of the entitlement I’d been born into and never questioned, I didn’t deserve it.
Asher had sent a picture, of course, while I was driving. This one was of a sad burrito that had to have been gracing the metal spiral in a vending machine for weeks.
Right. Perspective.
Thank you.
Ash
For?
Everything.
Ash
How thoughtful of me. You’re welcome!
With a smile, I headed for the door. It opened as I approached, as usual.
“Evening, Marcus,” I said.
“Good evening, sir. No date tonight?”
I grinned at the man as I handed over my coat. “No. Sadly. Makes this place a little dull.”
Marcus nodded and closed the door. Would that I could stand here all night and visit with the man I, unfortunately, knew little about. Did he have family? Were his holidays happy? Did my parents pay him well enough for the shit he no doubt suffered from them?
“You’re looking rather dour, brother,” Mary said when I joined her and Paul. We Dorset children tended to congregate at these things, only mingling when forced.
“Drink?” Paul asked as he held his tumbler higher.
“No. What is all this?” I scanned the room. January wasn’t typical dinner party season for Mother. Once New Year’s was over, their social circles took a break before gearing up again for Valentine’s and then spring.
“Mother’s way of being sporadic?” Paul offered.
“Or she’s moved on from you to Paul,” Mary said with a nudge to our younger brother. “Time to get you married off to a good family.”
“The fuck I will,” he said, but his wide eyes betrayed the worry. “Where’s Ashley tonight? I was hoping she’d distract them again.” He pointed at our parents across the room.
“Busy,” I said, more biting than I’d intended. “Sorry.” I gave each a hug. “It’s good to see you both. We should have lunch sometime, just us.”
They blinked before sharing a glance, then smiled and agreed. Our relationship wasn’t strained at all, but we could do better to make it unbreakable. I could do better.
Mary and Paul entertained me with the latest in their lives, while across the room, Father nodded along with the men in his group, brows furrowed, and Mother sipped her aperitif, mouth pinched.
A ruby-and-diamond ring on her first finger that likely cost more than Asher’s entire family home glistened under the chandelier over our heads.
All this finery, all this wealth, connections, and conversations, and was there enough true happiness here to fill a tenth of what I found with Asher’s family?
I didn’t mingle. I didn’t heed Mother’s silent call across the room to stand with the ladies so she could show me off, or whatever she planned. As the hour wore on, the agitation from my parents deepened. They’d let me in on their disappointment, but not here. Never in front of others.
Finally, we were called to dinner, and the tension eased. The hum of conversation changed into splashes of laughter and the adjustment of chairs as everyone found their seats. Everything was perfect and well organized, yet wrong.
No children squealed. In fact, there were no children.
The servers placed the meals in front of us instead of me waiting for a bowl or platter to be passed around.
Father hadn’t made the first move. He hadn’t carved portions away, making individualized comments to each of us as we held out plates to him to be served.
This meal, beautiful in presentation, was so impersonal underneath.
No one said they hoped I enjoyed it. No one offered well-wishes that the meal would bring good health or a full belly.
I hated it.
I didn’t want to be here.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Mother said. “Did you hear that, Luke?” Dragging me into the conversation was her way of letting me know she caught me not paying attention. “Samuel, the mayor’s eldest, just got engaged to Hillary Prewitt.”
I sat my silverware on my plate in their resting positions, smiling to myself with the memory of May dropping her fork at least ten times during the duck hunt dinner. Patty never paused in conversation as she picked it up, wiped it off, and returned it to the little girl.
Dismissing the stray thought, I nodded at the man. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” He seemed genuinely pleased.
Delicate china settings and crystal stemware were laid in their typical formality and laden with a meal of lamb and seasoned potatoes. A fine meal, as expected, but present company continued to hinder my pleasure in any of it.
Oh, to be sharing Asher’s sad burrito with him right now.
“Such a smart match,” Mother gushed. “The Prewitts are such a force.” She tilted her head toward me, no doubt making it clear she’d have wished to tie me to that family. I didn’t remember her ever trying, but I ignored more than I gave in to entertaining her attempts at marrying me off.