“She's had time to cool down. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and kissed the top of my head, only reconfirming my gut feeling—we should just stay home and have sex instead.
Thatwould really show my sister.
“You know, maybe I'm not going to be happy to see her. She's being so unfair. I was trying to protect her. I don't know why she can't see that. And what was I supposed to do? Just offhandedly tell her that while we were running around the yard one day?”
“I agree. It’s an impossible situation. Which means at some point, somebody is going to have to break.”
I'd already broken. I was just pissed off enough that I was starting to put myself back together, quite possibly at the very worst time. “Let's just go. God forbid we're late. I'll never hear the end of it.”
Eamon and I held hands in the backseat on our way out to Luke's parents' house. Neither one of us said anything for a long stretch, and the quiet, in this particular vehicle, felt an awful lot like the drive to the cemetery after my mother’s funeral. That was the first time I'd been in a fancy car. Amy, Dad, and I rode alone, which seemed fitting. It was just the three of us left. Amy and I each had new dresses, bought for us by Mrs. Abelman from next door. Amy's was pale pink and mine was a similar tone of lavender. Mrs. Abelman had said that black was too dour for children, and that the colors were subdued enough for the occasion. Dad agreed. He didn't want to see us in black. He couldn’t bear such a blatant display of how dark that day was.
Amy and I had each been given a white rose to carry, and because the ladies from Mom’s flower shop were kind and thoughtful, the thorns had been removed so we wouldn't hurt ourselves. Sitting in the back of the car, we each had them lying neatly across our lap. Nobody moved. Nobody said a thing. But then Amy started pulling the petals off hers. One by one.Pop. Pop.
“Amy, no,” my father had said, placing his hand over hers. “Don't do that, sweetie. You're supposed to put the flower on Mommy's casket. You want it to be pretty for her, don't you?”
I sat in silence, but Amy jerked the flower away, turning it over and pulling the petals from the other side.
“She can't see it,” Amy said, almost defiantly.
“But she'll be watching from heaven,” Dad countered.
That made her stop. She thrust the rose into my lap and keeled forward, sobbing uncontrollably, her shoulders shaking. I started to cry so deeply that I couldn't even make any noise. My chin quivered, I gasped for breaths, but the tears were coming so fast out of my eyes that I could hardly see. Dad started to cry, too, and he reached across the back of the seat until he got my shoulder and he pulled both of us closer. He was trying to comfort us, but the truth was that it only felt like permission to fall apart, and Amy and I both gave into it. It was a full and complete surrender. How does it feel to drown in sadness? To be at the bottom of the deepest, darkest water, looking in the direction that you think is up, eyes wide open, and you still can't see any light? No sun?
That was the way I felt that day.
Much like my dad had done more than twenty years ago Eamon put his arm around my shoulders and tugged me closer. “You sure you're okay?” he asked.
“I don't really have a choice, do I? Either this turns out great or it's a disaster. I still have to be here. She's my sister and she's getting married. These are facts.”
“Hopefully it'll end up somewhere between great and a disaster.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
He looked down at me with his comforting eyes. “Just a guess. Maybe I'll be wrong. Either way, I'll be there. If you're feeling out of sorts, give me a high sign and we'll make our escape.”
“We should have a code word.” The driver turned into Luke's parents' neighborhood. Cars were already lined up along the street. Ahead a massive cluster of white and silver balloons were tied to the lamppost next to the gate, bobbing in the night breeze.
“Any ideas?”
“Tequila?”
“As a code word?”
“Or a coping mechanism.”
Eamon laughed. “How about Fiona? If you need to leave, remind me to call Fiona.”
How did he manage to be so damn sweet and sexy at the same time? “You’re so much more sensible than I am.”
We climbed out of the car and scaled the massive stone stairs to the front door. Luke greeted us with a smile that could only be described as perfectly normal and genuine. Maybe this wasn't going to be as bad as I'd thought.
“I’m so glad you two are here.” He shook hands with Eamon and then gave me a hug. He held on to me for an extra second or two, patting my back. That was when I knew that things were not going to go well. Those pats seemed to sayI'm so sorry, but your sister is still royally pissed at you.
A waiter greeted us with a silver tray of champagne flutes. Eamon and I both took one and all I could think wasGod bless Eamon. He hated champagne. He'd taken two so we could trade when I was done drinking mine.
“Everyone's in the living room,” Luke said. “We have cocktails. Beer. All sorts of food.”
Since I was familiar with the lay of the land, I led the way. This time, men and women were socializing together. How truly twenty-first century of the Mayhew family. Shelly had obviously been in charge of the flow of this event.
