Chapter 25 Roxy
Roxy
Nothing has gone as planned. Obviously, Brett dying in my pool was the worst possible thing.
Well, one of the worst possible things. Another huge problem is that Ryan thinks we’re over, which we’re not, and I’ll have to fix things between us.
And I will. I think the stress of hosting all of these college friends here has really pushed him over the edge.
They’ll be gone soon, though, and we’ll be fine.
And then there’s the haboob—I’ve never heard of such a thing—spitting dark sand and scary wind at us.
So far this engagement weekend has been… I won’t say a bust. But a challenge.
But now it is time to regain control of the weekend.
I’ve taken a shower and changed into my dinner gown, a full-length, body-hugging silk stunner in baby blue that brings out my eyes.
I look gorgeous, I do. I add some of my favorite diamond jewelry, which I brought to show off to my sisters, of course.
Satisfied that I look amazing, I hurry back downstairs to find my guests.
And my husband. Surely this look will help change his mind. It’s his favorite color.
A shudder runs down my spine as I look down the hall to the foyer and into the living room.
I know his body is on the piano, but I refuse to look at it.
I’ll never be able to walk past it if I see him there now I’ll always see him there.
I turn around and head to the kitchen, pushing the memory of this afternoon out of my mind.
We still have an engagement to celebrate.
We will honor my son—and his future wife, who I’ve come to enjoy being around.
She’ll be easy to work with, malleable and compliant.
A good partner for my rather dominant, strong-willed son.
She was so quiet when we met the first few times, but now, I’ve been able to appreciate her sense of humor and her heart.
She is stunning, so I’ll have adorable grandchildren to spoil someday, but I’m definitely not in a hurry to be called Grandma.
I need to talk to Ryan about buying them a house near us.
That’s what all my friends are doing who can afford it.
I mean, it’s almost impossible for the kids to get a start these days.
What a wedding gift that will be. Nothing but the best for my boy and his wife.
I do hope she’ll continue to listen to me about the wedding planning.
I know what I’m doing. And her mom, well, she’s over her head. Always has been, poor Beth.
When I walk into the kitchen, I see all the guests and the couple of honor, minus Brett, have gathered.
It’s the heart of the home and should be a relaxing space, but I can feel the tension.
Yes, someone died, tragically. But they need to refocus.
They need to get cleaned up. They are a mess, and they’re soiling all the new furniture.
I need to remind them what this weekend is all about.
“Everyone, so glad we’re all together,” I say, putting on my best sorority rush face.
I’ve still got it. Everyone knows it. I clap my hands a couple times.
I need to jolt some energy into this group.
They’re all sitting around with sad faces, lost in thought.
I really can’t stand it. “Look, what happened to Brett is a tragedy. I’m not going to pretend it isn’t.
Everyone in this room did their best to save him, and we failed through no fault of our own.
But now there is nothing more we can do to help him.
And from what I saw of his lively spirit this weekend, he would want us to continue with our planned festivities for Celeste and Zach.
So can we make the effort to put on our happy faces to honor his memory? ”
As my gaze slides from one person to the next, I notice Amelia has dressed for dinner too.
Good. I mean, if she can snap out of the misery daze, they all can.
She wears a skin-tight black gown, her red hair curled and framing her neck like a lioness.
There is no sign of the pickleball injury on her perfectly made-up face, and no sign of grief in her expression.
She looks like nothing terrible has happened here at all.
I like that. I smile at her in appreciation, but she rolls her eyes at me.
“I hope you don’t mind, I grabbed one of my bags from the pool house and moved into one of the spare rooms in the main house here,” Amelia says. “It’s scary out there, especially now, after what happened. Nice pep talk, but you didn’t even know him, Roxy.”
“Sure, whatever,” I say, glaring at her. “I’m being nice, respectful of the dead.”
Heck, she’s the one who brought him here, not me.
I mean, none of them really knew Brett, and they’re acting like they lost an uncle or something.
I do notice the stark contrast between Amelia and me, and everyone else.
I’m sure they must be as anxious to shower off the dust as I was.
I still feel it in my throat, taste the earth on my tongue.
A good meal will make all of us feel better.
“Look, we’re all trapped here for the foreseeable future.
Who knows how long this thing outside will last,” I say.
“And that’s fine, because we’ve got another feast on the menu tonight.
The staff should be here any moment to start getting things ready, and we have all the supplies we need to make it very special.
So why don’t you all go put on your party clothes and get ready to enjoy a fantastic dinner I spent weeks planning?
A shower feels great, Jamie, Beth; it really does.
All I need is for you all to snap out of it and go get changed. You’re all covered in dust.”
Ryan stands and I think for a moment he’s obeying my command.
My heart flutters. He’ll lead the charge to the showers; he’ll help me help them forget about Brett and refocus on the kids.
I see him look at Zach, and they hold a look for a moment.
And then Ryan takes a deep breath and turns and looks at me.
“I’m sure you think you’re being helpful right now. But we are all sick of this, this Roxy Show,” he says, his blue eyes flashing at me in anger.
I feel my mouth drop in shock. I’m mortified. How can he talk to me like this, in front of all of them? In front of Zach, my boy?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m trying to lift everyone’s spirits, to celebrate the kids, to make everything perfect,” I say. I pinch my hand because I feel tears welling up in my eyes. I do not want to drip water on this gorgeous gown.
“It’s not perfect, Roxy. It’s about as far from perfect as you can get.
A man has died; we’re trapped here by a dust storm that has, according to the alert on my phone, caused a thirty-car pile-up and a raging fire near the electric transponder.
The haboob should be over soon, but the damage will take days, or weeks, to recover from.
But you’re acting as if nothing is wrong.
I know I promised to behave in front of the guests, to play my role in your show, but I can’t, not anymore.
” Ryan is shaking his head, hands on his hips.
I don’t like the looks of this, not at all.
He can’t do this. “No, stop talking—you can’t do this. Not here. Not now,” I say. I reach for the kitchen counter behind me to steady myself.
Ryan sweeps his gaze around the room. “I’m sorry to make a scene in front of you all, but I don’t feel comfortable lying to you any longer. Roxy and I are getting a divorce,” he says.
I hear someone gasp. I suspect it was Amelia, though I cannot bring myself to meet anyone’s eyes. The room has gone silent again, but this time it’s because of us, our marriage, imploding in front of them.
“Ryan, please,” I say. I can’t stop the tears running down my cheeks.
“I’m sorry, everyone. I truly am,” he says and strides out of the room.
I hold on to the counter behind me, certain if I let go, I’ll slump to the floor. I do my best to maintain my bright smile because no matter what, the show must go on. Even if I am watching the life I worked so hard for unravel before my eyes.