25. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE #2
Effie stiffened as Louisa hovered by the door, her arm looped through Ed’s.
Effie thought he looked shorter than she remembered, only standing an inch or two above Louisa, his thick grey hair coiffed like he stepped out of a cologne ad.
His blue eyes were captivating, and the cut of his sleek, olive-green dress shirt hugged his broad shoulders and trim midsection.
He had the sleeves rolled to reveal his strong, veined forearms.
“Edward, good to see you,” Grams said. “We’ll be with you in a moment, just finishing up a piece.” She gestured to Bea who grinned in greeting before returning to her work.
Louisa raised her brows at Effie. “Hi.” Louisa huffed, appalled Effie couldn’t muster more.
“Ladies, lovely to see you again,” Ed said, his Irish lilt making it ever more clear why Pamela had been putty in his hands.
Louisa and Ed slipped away, and Effie thought she’d recognize his back anywhere.
The table strained under piles of food. The spread gave the impression that Thanksgiving Day had arrived.
A roasted turkey sat front and center flanked with rosemary sprigs and lemon slices.
Quick breads Effie had in the freezer were sliced and steaming on their platters.
Green beans, boiled baby onions, mashed potatoes, honeyed ham, and two different salads took up the scant space left after Louisa had set the table with their finest plates and polished silver like they were having Christine McVie, Dolly Parton, and the Pope for dinner and not Ed.
Everyone was already seated when Pamela strode in beneath the twinkle of the thirty-light crystal chandelier.
Her hair curled into soft waves that she pinned back on one side like a starlet from the nineteen forties.
Dark denim stretched over her gym-perfected curves like a second skin, while the severe scoop of a worn Fleetwood Mac T-shirt left one shoulder bare.
Effie admired her mother’s perfectly painted face and pitied it all the same.
Ed let out an impressed whistle. “Pam, you haven’t aged a day.”
“Just trying to keep up with you,” Pamela quipped, but there was a bite to her tone. If Ed noticed, he didn’t let on. She took her seat beside Ellen, the image of unrelenting.
Ellen leaned in, her voice an exasperated whisper that Effie hoped didn’t travel past her own ears. “Are you not wearing a bra?”
Pamela shrugged before smiling sweetly at Ed and Louisa. “So, what are we talking about?”
Pamela began filling her plate so the rest followed suit. When Ed was in town Pamela ran the show, even if it meant stealing the spotlight from the one person who actually wanted it. Louisa’s shoulders rounded with anxiety, but she said, “I was showing him pictures from Hazel’s last birthday.”
“Yeah? Did you show him the one where she drooled—literally—on the gold bracelet she outgrew in a month?”
“It was meant to be a keepsake,” Ed explained. “You understood, right, sweetie?”
“Of course, it’s in her hope chest,” Louisa chimed, though Effie distinctly remembered Louisa scowling at the useless and expensive gift, wondering if she should hock it and go get diapers.
“Children need affection, security, reliability, Ed. Not keepsakes.”
“Here we go.” Ellen huffed before pouring her wineglass full to the brim. Effie nudged her glass toward her sister and Ellen obliged with a hefty pour.
“Keepsakes are important,” Tibby offered. “They give us something to connect to when we’re apart.” Ed cast her a grateful nod. Effie thought it a valiant effort, but Pamela was an argumentative demon, one that needed a formal exorcism to back down.
“I suppose when all you are is apart, a keepsake is all you get.”
“I’m not built like you, Pam. I don’t grow roots, or bleach them.”
Shots fired. Effie looked to Hope who had the right idea in keeping her eyes on her plate. She had an uncanny ability to blend into the shadows when she didn’t want to participate. Effie envied her that.
She also envied Grams’s and Aunt Bea’s stoicism on nights like this.
They played it so close to the chest, that you never knew what they thought of Ed’s visits.
Effie, on the other hand, took every word, every jab, every flinch from her sister to heart.
She felt it all, packed it in a bag, and flung it over her shoulder to carry herself even though she had no business claiming it.
Not when she’d never been able to do anything to fix it.
“And I suppose your latest child bride keeps it au naturel?”
“Samantha was twenty-six,” Ed growled. Effie’s nose scrunched until Grams told her to check her face with a look.
“And what’s this one? Older or younger than your two daughters?”
“Mom, stop. It doesn’t matter,” Ellen asserted, fed up with the immaturity on both sides. Effie never asked what Ellen thought of Ed’s second wife. She didn’t last long enough to bring around, but her social media pages, when Louisa showed them to her, were as good as reality television.
“Doesn’t it? You two have always wanted a better relationship with him. Well, here’s your chance. Ask your dear old dad why he has to be such a perv. Childhood trauma? Identity crisis? If I remember right it’s most likely small di—”
“Enough!” Effie was as alarmed as everyone else that the outburst had come from Ed.
He was known to hurl a few insults, insert himself in matters he had no business judging, but he never raised his voice.
“I am tired, Pamela. You want to know how old my wife is? She’s forty-eight.
Not that I owe any of you an explanation about how I live my life or why. ”
Effie watched Louisa sink into her seat, and suddenly it felt like there were too many bodies around the table, all playing at being a family but not very convincingly. The words bubbled up her throat, every impulse telling her to defend her sisters, take her turn at being mother hen.
Dare .
“I don’t think that’s true,” Effie whispered. Ellen cast her a glance, a subtle shake of her head telling her to drop it . But Effie thought it was enough of this too. “I think you owe Ellen and Louisa an explanation for why you chose the world over them.”
Something in Ed softened like Effie had unwittingly found the trapdoor to his well-kept secrets.
It was brief, almost too quick to notice, but Ed’s eyes shifted to Ellen.
Another quick shake of her head. Don’t go there.
Effie wondered if Louisa saw before Ed simply said, “I showed up the only way I knew how.”
“With a checkbook,” Pamela scoffed.
Ed’s jaw ticked in irritation. “You weren’t complaining when it put them through college, were you?
” Ed turned to face Louisa who flushed in an effort to keep from crying.
“I meant what I said. I don’t put down roots, but I am truly sorry that it has caused you such disappointment. That good enough for you there, Effie?”
Effie resisted the urge to cower. They’d heard different iterations of the same thing all their lives. A bird that couldn’t be caged. If only he realized it made it sound like he viewed their personhood, their affection, as a prison and not something to come home to when his wings were tired.