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Heather shifted her weight from one foot to the other, tucking her shoulder-length brown hair behind one ear. “Well, okay, then. Nice bumping into you two. Guess I’ll see you at the party.”
Oh, shit,thought Paige, watching Heather wiggle away on four-inch heels.
“Don’t you have a skirt like that?” her mother asked.
“I’m not going to that stupid party,” Paige said.
“Oh, darling. It’s your uncle’s eightieth birthday. I know it won’t be easy, but how can you not?”
“Because I can’t,” Paige said. It was hard enough for her to be around her uncle in the best of times, to have this living, breathing replica of her father still enjoying life when her father was in the ground. How dare her uncle get to be eighty when his twin brother, superior to him in every way, hadn’t been as fortunate! How could her mother bear to look at the man?
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason Paige didn’t want to go. Maybe not even the main one.
“You could always bring a date,” her mother suggested as the waiter approached with their food.
“Two Cobb salads,” the young man said as he deposited their bowls on the table.
“Maybe someone from one of those sites you’re on…” her mother said.
Paige stabbed at her salad with her fork and said nothing.
