Chapter 13
amy
Mac emerged from the kitchen bearing a huge Ben she’d had options.
She could have terminated the pregnancy, or returned to London after the baby was born.
Instead, she’d become a stay-at-home wife and mother, using her newly-diagnosed Type 1 diabetes – which doctors said had been triggered by her pregnancy – as an excuse not to go back to college or pursue a career even after her daughters had both gone to school.
Bob had supported her choice, as he had every decision she’d made.
If she’d really wanted to return to England, Amy was sure he’d have agreed to relocate there, too.
She’d given up trying to work out why all of this had made Helen so angry at the world, and with her elder daughter in particular. Now, in her forties, Amy was working on simple acceptance.
At moments like this, it was difficult.
‘Show us,’ Mac said, reaching for the box in her lap.
Jesse laughed as she snatched it out of her husband’s hand. ‘Come on, Amy. How bad can it be?’
The atmosphere was starting to become awkward. There was nothing she could do but submit to her humiliation with good grace.
Flushing, Amy opened the box again and took out the black nylon and lace babydoll nightdress her mother had given her to open in front of her friends, her family, her son. It dangled from her fingers like a dead pelt. It wasn’t even pretty: cheap, tawdry, covered in red bows and glitter.
There was a sudden silence.
‘Well, looks like it’s gonna be your birthday tonight!’ Jesse said, with a broad wink at Mac.
The teenagers snickered. Nicky turned an ugly shade of crimson and stalked abruptly from the terrace, shaking poor Maggie’s arm away when she tried to detain him.
Helen’s eyes were bright with malice. Amy wanted to run into the house and burst into tears of rage and fling herself on the bed and scream, but she kept smiling, smiling, because she couldn’t ruin the day for everyone else.
There was a sudden, thunderous crash behind them.
‘Jesus Christ!’ Jesse exclaimed.
‘Oh, the cake!’ Kate cried.
Iris had knocked over the drinks table. Everyone was suddenly in motion, putting down plates and glasses, pulling back chairs, issuing instructions and warnings to be careful! and watch out for glass!
Amy ran inside for a dustpan and brush. The distraction was worth the cost of replacing all her broken stemware.
Iris picked up a bottle of Prosecco slowly rolling in circles at her feet. ‘We have a survivor,’ she said, her words slightly slurred.
Jesse took the bottle from her. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Sorry. Bit too many bubbles.’
Kate clapped her hands. ‘Everyone inside,’ she said. ‘Mac, there’s more beer and wine in the cooler, if you could make sure everyone has a fresh drink. Maggie, honey, fetch me a trash tote for the broken glass.’
She righted the table as everyone trooped obediently into the house. Amy carefully picked up the largest pieces of glass and dropped them into the blue recycling box while Kate swept up the smaller shards. No one commented when Amy threw her mother’s gift into the trash along with them.
‘Don’t pay Mom any attention,’ Iris said, and suddenly she seemed completely sober. ‘It’s not you she’s angry with.’
‘I’m sure she meant well—’
‘Bullshit,’ Iris said. ‘Don’t do that, Amy.’
Amy’s throat was suddenly tight. She knew why Iris had pretended to be drunk, making a fool of herself and smashing into the table.
They were sisters: friends, defenders, rivals, co-conspirators, sharers of both joy and sorrow.
No matter what might happen between them today, she knew Iris would always be there for her tomorrow.
Jesse came over and jangled his car keys. ‘Come on, you,’ he told his wife with a grin. ‘I’m taking you home before you cause any more damage. The kids are already out by the car.’
‘Sorry about the cake,’ Iris said, winking at Amy.
Amy pulled her into a tight hug. She loved her sister dearly, even on the many occasions when she’d wanted to strangle her at the same time. They’d always have each other’s backs.
She literally couldn’t imagine anything, or anyone, coming between them.