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“Yeah.” I force a chuckle and nearly knock over my wine glass when I go to grab it. I’m never clumsy but today I’m feeling a bit out of my element. There’s too much to take in at once, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve got one foot in the past and the other in the present and it’s throwing me off.
Next to me, Stassi notices, because in a flash, she reaches a hand out to stop it. I’ve already got it. But our fingers graze in the process, sending an electric jolt through mine.
“How are those parents of yours, Alec?” Mr. Hutton asks.
“My father’s in prison,” I say, not expecting it to be such the bombshell it is. After all, it’s not a secret, and I figure they’ll find out eventually. It’s been in the papers, but the enclave of Sapphire Shores has largely been protected from the outside world.
Clearly, they don’t know, because the silence that follows is deadly.
“Prison?” Mrs. Hutton finally fills in. I guess she hasn’t heard. Or if she has, she’s being polite and pretending she knows nothing. “Oh, no.”
“Yeah. I mean,” I say casually. “That’s what happens when you play games with your clients’ funds and don’t pay your taxes, apparently. Guess he took a page from Bernie Madoff’s playbook.”
More silence save for the clinking of silverware against plates.
Finally, Mrs. Hutton says, “Poor Peggy. I should call her. She’s probably beside herself.”
I shake my head. Mrs. Hutton’s relationship with my mother was tenuous at best. Mrs. Hutton tried, because that’s what nice people do, but my mom wasn’t very receptive.
The Mansfield monarchs always saw the Huttons as disposable, babysitters essentially, but not much use, otherwise. They had so-called “better people” to spend their time with. My parents saw the Huttons as beneath them. Not to mention that they had absolutely nothing in common so any attempts at conversing and connecting were stilted and awkward.
“Honestly, I couldn’t even tell you where she is. After my dad’s sentencing, she high-tailed it to the islands. But I think she’s doing well. Last I heard, her new boyfriend’s quite a bit younger than I am.”
I don’t focus on any one face, but I don’t have to. I can feel the horror radiating from every person around the table. This time, I’ve stunned them all into complete silence.
I take a sip of wine. “You get this from that vineyard in Yarmouth? It’s good.”
Magically, the smoke clears and Mrs. Hutton beams. “Yes, all the greats from Maine, just for you. We figured you might be missing it.”
Cooper quips, “I doubt he misses anything about this place. The wine. The whoopie pies. The Huttons.”
He’s giving me shit, flashing a smirk, but there’s a tiny seed of resentment in his tone.
Resentment I deserve.
“Nah, you’re wrong,” I say. “I miss it all. I’m really glad to be back, honestly.”
Next to me, Stassi softens, though she still refuses to look my way.
“Stassi, do you want your father to come look at your oven?” Mrs. Hutton changes the subject. “Been having a lot of incidents with mine recently and it turned out it just needed a new heating element. Easy fix.”
“I could take a look?” I offer. Once my funds were cut off and I was supporting myself in college, I learned to be quite resourceful when it came to repairs around my shit hole apartments. With my crazy school and residency schedule, sometimes it was easier for me to fix things myself rather than call the landlord and wait for some repairman to show up.
“Oh that would be so nice if you could do that, Alec,” Mrs. Hutton says.
Stassi doesn’t respond, just gulps her wine.
Across the table, Cooper and Aidan look at me like I’m an alien.
These guys know me almost too well. I’m trying too hard, making them suspicious. I need to play it cool and stop kissing her ass.
A minute later, one of the twins whose name I’ve forgotten, runs in. “Mom! Taffy’s spilled apple juice all over the table.”
Taffy’s mother rolls her eyes, but Stassi pushes away from the table first.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got it,” Stassi says before heading out to tend to the kids table.
The meatballs and sauce are just like I remember them. And it’s great, catching up with all of the Huttons, but I can’t stop my eyes from wandering out to the back room. The kids are chortling and giggling, calling Stassi’s name nonstop. Eventually, she comes out with Taffy on piggyback, giving her a ride through the house. The other kids follow, like a grand parade.
Cooper sniffs. “Stassi and her loyal subjects.”
“Yeah. I don’t know whether to be happy or offended that she prefers their company over ours.” Aidan digs into his second helping of spaghetti.
Stassi returns, whirring past us with Taffy, pretending she’s in an airplane and making the sounds like one.
