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I’m so grateful for her presence here, especially considering Lana isn’t Chessa’s daughter, but Eleanor’s always treated all of Troian’s children with love. I’m surprised she doesn’t have a family or a boyfriend of her own. She’s in her early thirties and her looks are striking. She wears bold colors and lots of black eyeliner, which is so unlike Chessa’s soft and romantic appearance. I wonder if Eleanor’s rebelling against her traditional family and she’s secretly a little wild. I’ve never known her to bring a man to a party, and I don’t know what her type is, but maybe she likes a bad boy.
As she finishes putting out the punch glasses on the drinks table, I notice a red mark on her shoulder, just by her neck.
“Is that a hickey? Wait, that’s a bite,” I exclaim, but not loud enough for my voice to carry because I don’t want to embarrass Eleanor.
She puts her hand to her neck, her eyes going wide, and then she smiles. “Isn’t it silly? I feel like a teenager.” Her cheeks turn pink and she hurries away, tugging up the neckline of her blouse.
I smile to myself as I watch her go. So Eleanor does have a lover, and a mischievous one by the looks of things. I wonder when I’ll get to meet him. I’ll have to drop hints to bring him to one of our family dinners.
I’m handing out cups of punch to my brothers, sisters, and younger second cousins when Lana bounds across the room toward me, wearing a glittering royal blue dress that makes her eyes look even bluer.
“What do you think? Is this the party you hoped for?”
Lana throws her arms around my neck and hugs me tight. “It’s everything I wanted.Thankyou.”
I relax a little at my sister’s words. I wanted everything to be perfect for her, but there’s another reason as well. This might be the last birthday she celebrates with Dad, a thought that’s been making my throat burn with unshed tears all week.
Dad and I went to see Doctor Webster a few days ago to get the results of his latest scans. The tumors haven’t responded to chemotherapy this time, and worse, they’ve spread to his liver and adrenal glands. It was gut-wrenching news. Worse was the expression on Doctor Webster’s face as I demanded to know what our options were.
It was a short silence, but it rang in my ears until I was deafened. I could barely hear his next words. Just snatches of phrases from my worst nightmares.Pain management. Palliative care. Quality of life expectations.
My brain was frozen until I realized what Doctor Webster was gently trying to tell me. Dad’s going to die from his cancer, and it will be soon.
Dad doesn’t want to tell the kids yet as he’s still struggling to find the words to give them such terrible news. I can understand that because remembering the conversation with Doctor Webster makes me break out in a cold sweat and want to scream until I pass out. I haven’t even managed to tell Uncle Kristian, and we’ve been alone together several times since we spoke to the doctor.
As if thinking about him has conjured him into existence, the front door opens, and Uncle Kristian’s here. My heart somersaults in my chest, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m walking down the hallway toward him, faster and faster. I don’t question it.
I only know I want to be with him right now.
I need his arms around me.
Ineedhim.
His eyes widen as I reach him and wrap my arms around his neck and press my cheek to his jaw. He squeezes me hard in return, rocking me a little side to side and then easing me away from him with a concerned wrinkle on his brow.
“Not that I don’t love when you throw yourself into my arms, but something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
I nod, feeling my throat burn again. “Let’s not talk about it right now. I just want to pretend everything’s okay tonight.”
Uncle Kristian glances past us into the living room where Dad’s seated on the sofa looking pale and tired. My uncle’s lips thin and worry fills his eyes, but he plants a kiss on my forehead. “Of course, princess. Let’s enjoy the party. The place looks amazing.”
He takes my hand and walks around with me, admiring the decorations and complimenting everything. He tells Lana how beautiful she looks and gives her a birthday present, which is a bracelet of amethysts.
“You gave me diamonds for my sixteenth,” I murmur as Lana hurries off to show her gift to Eleanor. “And my fourteenth and fifteenth.”
“Ah, well, you’re special, princess,” he tells me with a sly grin. “Only my best girl gets diamonds.”
The two of us wind up in the kitchen, which is always my favorite place at a party anyway. We can hear everyone talking and laughing in the rooms beyond and the music playing. Every now and then, a child runs through or someone comes in for bottles of lemonade or to take a phone call.
My dad’s cousin, Helena, is holding her four-month-old, Celeste, while her three-year-old cries that he wants to be pushed on the swings outside.
“Not while your sister is fussing. If I put her in her carrier she’ll scream the place down.”
“I’ll take her,” I offer eagerly, holding out my hands for the baby. I haven’t had a good dose of baby cuddles in such a long time.
Helena thanks me with a tired smile and passes her over, allowing herself to be tugged out into the backyard. It’s dark but all the lights are on in the garden and half a dozen kids are playing on the swings and with a beach ball.
“Are you fussing? Are you a fussy baby?” I murmur to Celeste, planting kisses on the top of her wispy hair.
