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I extended my hand right as he leaned in for a hug. My arm was wedged awkwardly between us, but I refused to lower it out of a deep-rooted sense of self-preservation. I knew instinctively that there would be no coming back for me this evening if Macon St. James put his arms around me. He gave a good-natured chuckle and slipped his hand into mine, giving it a firm squeeze.
“Sissy and I are both really happy you were able to be here for dinner. It means a lot to her to have you with us.”
This felt like a bad time to mention that I had come home to help take care of my father and dinner had been sprung on me at the last possible moment, so instead I tried for a convincing smile.
“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”
If lying was a sin, I had a feeling this dinner would pave my way to straight to hell. Although frankly, hell seemed like the preferable destination right now.
My attention caught on Daddy making his way slowly toward one of the couches, and Macon and I both moved to help him. Predictably, Sissy watched us struggle to get him settled and studiously pretended not to see him attempt to hand her his crutches so she could put them someplace where they wouldn’t be in the way. Mama grabbed them instead, propping them up against an arm of the couch so they remained easily within his reach.
A commotion came from the doorway, and Mr. and Mrs. St. James breezed into the room, drawing everyone’s attention. I saw Daddy reach for his crutches and moved to help him stand again. Southern manners didn’t take a break for broken bones, after all.
“Please, Frank, don’t get up on our account. My goodness, we’re going to be family! I think we can suspend formalities, especially considering your injury,” Mrs. St. James scolded lightly, with a smile that could rival Mama’s. “I apologize for keeping you waiting. We had a late meeting with our attorneys, and you know how they love to run on.”
It seemed like Sissy stiffened at her comment, but that might have been my imagination. She pasted on a big smile when Mr. St. James leaned forward to kiss her cheek.
“Sissy, you look lovely as always,” he greeted her, then turned his attention to my parents. “Frank, Susan, it’s good to see you again. This dinner is long overdue.”
I was too busy looking at Sissy to hear my parents’ responses. She was standing next to Mrs. St. James, and the contrast between Sissy and her soon-to-be mother-in-law was starkly obvious. Sissy wore a tight red dress that clung to her curves in a way that highlighted every single one, and the neckline revealed more than an eyeful of her cleavage. Her platinum blond hair fell in long waves that somehow seemed to call your attention to her bust rather than cover it. Bright red lipstick drew the eye to lips that were much fuller than the last time I’d seen them, and the rest of her makeup was a contoured work of art. She looked more ready for the red carpet than a family dinner — even a family dinner with local royalty.
Mrs. St. James, on the other hand, was the picture of subtlety, wearing a long-sleeved black dress with a tasteful scoop neck. Her light brown hair was cut and styled into a sleek bob, while her makeup was minimal and seemed to complement skin that had been allowed to age naturally. I had a feeling the difference in their appearances was a visible representation of all the differences between them.
A sharp jab in the general vicinity of my ribs jolted me back to the conversation taking place around me.
“Sutton,” Mama said, pointing her extra-wide smile my way, “Mrs. St. James was saying how long it’s been since they’ve seen you.”
Her extra-wide smile was her polite, “we’re with company” way of telling me not to embarrass her. I smiled at Mrs. St. James, because smiling when we didn’t feel like it seemed to be the theme of the evening.
“Yes, it has been a long time.”In fact, the last time I saw any of you, the men of your family were calling my family trash. “Thank you for having us.”
Mrs. St. James smiled graciously, resting her slim, cool fingers on my forearm.
“No need to thank us for hosting. We’ll be family soon enough.”
Probably sooner than either of us would like,I thought. Keeping my wooden smile firmly in place, I scrambled for something acceptable to say, but thankfully Mr. St. James filled the silence.
“Right you are, my dear. Normally I’d offer guests a drink before dinner, but since wearegoing to be family, and we’ve already rudely made you wait, let’s head into the dining room, shall we?”
I bit back a sigh. A drink had never sounded better. Macon reached for Daddy’s crutches and stood vigilantly by his side as he rose from the couch, because of course, he had to be as perfect as I remembered him. We all wordlessly followed Mr. St. James through the door with matching smiles fixed on our faces.
I had a feeling we would all be icing our cheeks when we got home.
6
The dining room was surprisingly plain compared to the other parts of the house we had seen so far — keeping in mind that the word “plain” was only relative to the opulence of the other rooms. The walls were a pale blue with white wainscoting that gave the entire room a soothing quality. A long wooden table stretched down the middle of the room, and a picture window overlooking a garden took up the entire wall opposite the door. Even the light fixture here was more subdued than the chandelier in the foyer. This looked like a space that a family actually lived in.
“Since we’re a small party tonight, I thought we would be more comfortable in here instead of the formal dining room.” Mrs. St. James came to a stop beside the chair at one end of the table while the rest of us filed in behind her.
Mama, Daddy, and I ended up on one side of the table, across from Macon, Sissy, and an empty place setting. Mr. St. James sat at the other end of the table next to Macon. The unplanned seating arrangements were giving a strong “us vs. them” energy. I surreptitiously glanced to my right, where Mrs. St. James was placing her napkin in her lap — the white, cloth napkin. Mama refused to even buy the name brand paper towels.
“I said we’d be fine being informal tonight.” Sissy smiled at her mother-in-law-to-be reassuringly. It made me gag. “It’s easier to talk to each other here than at the big table in the formal dining room. Besides, with Sutton not having a date, seating arrangements would have been impossible.”
There she is.I fought valiantly against the curl in my lip, resulting in a feral-looking grin. Mr. St. James waved off her concern — literally waving his hand as if he could physically swat away any tidbit of conversation that didn’t interest him.
“Nonsense, we have a perfectly balanced group. Holden will be here any moment.”
I stared across the table at the empty place setting, and my appetite suddenly vanished at the realization that I would spend this entire meal looking at the smug, arrogant face of Holden St. James.
