Chapter 31 Beth
Beth
I look at Ryan, trying to understand his cryptic comments. “You know, I wish you had called me and told me what to expect at this place. It’s so unsettling, at least at first. Maybe it still is for you? Or maybe now that it’s your home, you’re past that, past what happened to Sunny.”
“I’ll never get over what happened to Sunny. The guilt. It’s crushing, isn’t it?” he says. “None of us were there for her. I should have been there for her.”
I swallow and stare into his eyes. “I agree. But it’s no one’s fault, just a tragic accident.”
“Right,” Ryan says. He begins to walk down the hall. “Let’s go get a drink. Everything is better with a cocktail in your hand.”
That’s when I remember what I found. “Wait,” I say, touching his arm. He stops walking and faces me. “I found a postcard in my bedroom. It’s upsetting. Did you put it there?”
“What? Of course not. What kind of postcard?” he asks. I note the darkness in his eyes, the way his jaw is clenched. He’s angry I’m accusing him of something.
“It’s a photo of a woman in a green dress who looks like Sunny,” I say.
“I didn’t put that in your room. Why would I?” he says.
“I don’t know, but it really scared me,” I say.
Ryan looks into my eyes, lost in thought himself.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have any answers, Beth.
But if it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one feeling nostalgic for the past. You know how much I loved Sunny, and then that night, and all that happened…
” He closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them and regards me somberly.
He reaches for my hand. “We should talk. We have things we need to say.”
“There you are,” Roxy says, joining us in the foyer.
I don’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved at her timing.
She has changed into a bright lavender gown.
Her makeup is reapplied, and she looks as if she doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Celeste and Zach are already having cocktails in the dining room area. Why don’t you two join us? ”
“Of course,” I say and lead the way, leaving Roxy and Ryan behind. I assume they will be on their best behavior tonight, for their son’s sake if nothing else. We’re all trapped here together, so we might as well make the most of it.
I’m filled with pride when I see my sparkling daughter. Celeste wears a pale pink chiffon gown that makes her look like a princess, while Zach stands by her side in a dark navy suit much like his father’s.
“Mom, how pretty you look,” Celeste says. I kiss her cheek in thanks.
“Good evening, Ms. Harris,” Zach says. “Can I get you a champagne?”
“Please, and call me Beth, remember?” I answer before taking in the room.
Tonight’s flowers are bright explosions of color—orange, pink, yellow, purple.
The table is decorated with what must be more than one hundred candles of all different shapes and sizes, flickering and dancing among the florals.
It’s a stunning look. Someone has built a fire that sparks and pops in the grand fireplace.
The overall feel is festive and lavish, like Roxy or, rather, like what Roxy pretends to be.
“Thank you,” I say as Zach hands me a champagne flute.
“Here comes the happy couple,” Zach says under his breath as his parents walk in the room. Ryan and Roxy don’t appear to be speaking to each other. They’re stiff and formal, and Roxy walks in front of Ryan to greet her son.
“Mom, what a night,” Zach says, taking a step back from her. “I’m surprised you even showed up.”
“Please, I wouldn’t miss a minute of your special night. But Zach, we need to talk, maybe after dinner?” Roxy says.
“Maybe, but there’s not much to talk about,” Zach says.
Celeste says, “Mrs. Gentry, the room is decorated beautifully. Thank you.”
“Only the best for you two,” Roxy says.
Jamie and Greer and Amelia appear and are equally dressed up.
We’ve all acquiesced to Roxy’s wishes again.
The gang’s all here, well almost, I realize, trying not to think of Brett as we take our designated seats.
This time Ryan and Roxy are at opposite ends of the table.
Seems like a good plan, all things considered.
I’m seated to Ryan’s right, across from Amelia, who once again is dazzling in old-money pearls and diamonds and a navy silk gown that complements her red hair.
The spot on her face where the pickleball struck her isn’t visible; whether that’s because of expertly applied makeup or the fact a bruise hasn’t appeared yet, I don’t know.
“How’s your cheek, Amelia?” I ask, causing her to touch her face.
“Oh, I’m fine. Brett had the tougher time this afternoon, turns out,” Amelia says and chuckles.
I’m not sure why she’s laughing over her dead date, but then again, I can’t pretend I’ve ever really understood Amelia. Next to me, Ryan shakes his head.
“Good evening, everyone,” Roxy says, clinking her glass.
Oh no, not another speech. There cannot be anything left to say, can there?
For a moment, the grand chandelier flickers, and I wonder if the power is going to go out.
But then it holds, and the lights stop flickering.
I meet Ryan’s eye, and he looks as relieved as I feel.
A power outage is the last thing we need.