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s and I had always been casual, not superclose, but not distant, either. We were just . . . there. Declan’s family was always in each other’s lives and had Sunday night family dinners—something that was important to Declan, so it was important to me. Which had been the huge deciding factor in living here instead of Raleigh.
The family dinners, for the most part, had always gone as expected. With Linda in the kitchen for hours upon hours, cooking enough to feed an army . . .
This time, however, was different.
Because this time I had a dessert. A dessert Linda had given me the recipe for. A dessert that I’d made three days in a row before today, trying to perfect it.
She’d handed me the recipe when she’d randomly stopped by earlier that week, and said, “It’s time you start learning how to take care of my son. This is an old family recipe, and is very important to the Veil family. If you want to be a part of that family, you best learn how to make this. I’ll be expecting it on Sunday.”
I’d learned.
And now I was guarding it as if it were the most precious thing in the world. As if the dish in my hands were worth millions of dollars, and if I dropped it my world would end. And with Linda expecting the dessert, it just might.
I accepted a hug from Declan’s two older sisters, Holly and Lara, smiled at their husbands as they helped Linda set the food out in the massive kitchen, and murmured a quick hello when Declan’s dad kissed my cheek on his way out of the kitchen to answer his phone.
“Where can I put this, Linda?” I asked as I checked the full counters.
Linda looked at my dessert-filled hands and raised an eyebrow. “Well, what is it, darling girl?”
“It’s . . . it’s the white chocolate bread pudding.”
“Is that what that awful smell is?” she said with a laugh, and looked over at her daughters and their husbands. They didn’t laugh with her. Her wide eyes fell to the dish in my hands again, and she sighed dramatically. “Well, just set it anywhere. Let’s see it.”
I swallowed past the thickness in my throat, and looked around for a moment before finding a space to set it down. I didn’t breathe as she lifted the lid and eyed the dessert like it was going to jump out and eat her.
“Good God,” she drawled, then walked away to grab a spoon. When she came back, she moved the spoon through the dessert as if she were dissecting it, and then finally took a bite. After a moment she made a gagging sound and hurried to a trash can.
My jaw was locked tight by the time she’d spit it out.
I’d never been an angry person, but Linda had been pulling it out of me as she’d slowly shown me over the last weeks what it was like to truly despise someone . . . as she’d gone from my boyfriend’s too-opinionated mom, to the woman who loathed me with every fiber of her being.
The thought of her stressed me out until I had a headache. Talking about her frustrated me to no end, and usually left me shaking. Being in her presence had me in a constant state of fake smiles, clenched teeth, and hot blood pounding through my veins.
I hated who she was turning me into, and I wanted to hate her. Instead I felt sorry for all the reasons that led to her feeling like she needed to do this to me.
“Rorie, what are we going to do with you? Bless your heart, you don’t even know how to bake. Sweet girl, that looked alien.” Linda tossed the used spoon on the counter and walked over to grab a casserole dish from the other side of the kitchen. “Well, it’s a good thing I was prepared.” She placed hers beside mine, and opened it with a wide smile directed at me, and then the other people in the kitchen.
Of course she had made the dessert, too. Of course. Because it couldn’t be that easy with Linda, to just do what she asked. No, I had to go through some form of embarrassment or harassment first. I felt stupid for even trying, and wanted to go scream and vent to Declan. Instead, I simply nodded as I looked at the nearly identical dishes. The only difference was mine had taken a spoon to it.
“We’ll just put this poor thing out of its misery,” she mumbled as she grabbed my dish and walked over to the trash. “You know, Madeline can whip up an amazing bread pudding.”
I rolled my eyes at the mention of Declan’s beloved ex-girlfriend.
I’d heard her name in passing over the months when Declan and I first started dating, but I now couldn’t go a day without being reminded about how perfect Linda thought she was.
“Mom,” Holly, Declan’s oldest sister, began. Her tone was full of frustration, but she didn’t finish as we all watched the dessert slide out of the dish and into the trash.
Declan’s dad, Kurt, walked back in then. “What are we all standing around for? Let’s eat, I’m starved!”
In what looked like an accident, but I knew wasn’t, Linda dropped the dish into the trash on top of the dessert, and clapped her hands as she stepped away. “Yes, let’s! Food is ready and getting cold. Everyone grab a plate.”
I glanced up and caught Declan’s sisters watching me. Both wore matching worried expressions, and Holly mouthed that she was sorry. I smiled at them and tried to shake off the horrible feeling Linda always left me with.
Once everyone was serving themselves, I looked over at Declan’s plate sitting there untouched. I wondered if I was thankful or upset that he hadn’t been there to witness his mom’s hatefulness before my thoughts drifted.
Where are you, Dec?
