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I burst out laughing while Quinn playfully narrows his eyes at me before trailing her.
I can’t help but think a situation that should have been awkward and uncomfortable really wasn’t. It felt normal. Today is the first day I’ve felt like me. And I hope today is the first of many more to come.
“How many more of these do I have to fold?” Polly groans, throwing a white napkin onto the mound in the center of the table.
“Until that pile is finished,” Cynthia replies with a smile. “You’re the one who wanted the cocktail napkins shaped like swans.”
“I know.” She huffs, reaching for another napkin, and begrudgingly begins folding some origami-style swan.
For the past three hours, we’ve been folding these napkins into ridiculous birds, and after a few sad-looking birds, I’ve finally got the hang of it.
“This is slave labor.” She pouts, folding the corners over.
“Hardly.” Cynthia scoffs. “Besides, a day’s work isn’t going to kill you. Consider yourself lucky you’ve never had to work a day in your life. Many sixteen-year-olds would have earned a small fortune by now.”
“Yeah, well, many sixteen-year-olds don’t have a slave driver for a mother,” she replies with a smirk. “And besides, I’ll be seventeen soon.”
I totally ignore her flirting with Quinn. I’m more focused on the fact that my insides are screaming that my theory of Cynthia being pregnant when she left me was correct. There has to be some reasonable explanation as to why she would leave when pregnant.
Obviously, the fact my father isn’t Polly’s dad gave her reason to run, but why did she not take me with her? Did my father know she was pregnant with another man’s baby? Or did she leave me behind because her new beau, Chandler, didn’t want a child he didn’t father?
I have so many damn questions. So here’s hoping after yesterday’s breakthrough, the next time I ask Cynthia about my past, it won’t end in a screaming match.
“Everything okay?” Quinn whispers into my ear, picking up on my thoughts.
“Yeah, all good,” I reply with a smile, bumping into him playfully with my shoulder.
“Ugh, you two are nauseating.” Polly crinkles her nose in disgust.
I can’t help but laugh as I guess we kind of are, but holy shit, look at him. How can I not want to touch him any chance I get?
His long bangs sweep over an eye as his head is bowed, expertly folding some fancy-looking bird, which in no way resembles my limp-looking handiwork. The way his deft fingers work with precision has me thinking of the way he touches me and how he also applies as much care to my body as he does to these stupid birds.
He must feel me visually undressing him because he flicks me a quick wink over his shoulder before continuing with his creation.
My cheeks heat as I start to think about what my Christmas gift entails and how I intend to give it to him. It’ll have to be after the party because I don’t want to rush this. And besides, I don’t want him opening his present early.
“Do you want me to do something with your hair?” Polly asks, and when I raise my head, I see she’s addressing me.
“What’s wrong with my hair?” I ask, slightly insulted.
“Nothing is exactly wrong with it,” she says, gesturing with a tiny bird at my head. “But nothing is exactly right, either. I’d be happy to work my magic on you. You won’t recognize yourself.”
She shrugs, not at all concerned she’s just insulted me in a roundabout way.
“Gee, thanks,” I reply sarcastically. “I’m at your mercy. But don’t turn me into a Barbie doll.”
“Red, I honestly don’t think Polly can work that kind of magic.”
I open and close my mouth, unsure what to say before I burst into laughter.
Polly and Quinn soon join in my laughter. They’re both laughing at my expense, but I don’t mind because as I turn to look at Cynthia, I see her discreetly dab at her eyes. This very weird, very stupid conversation actually feels normal.
There is no way I can go down there.
I’ve been hiding up here for the past hour, avoiding setting foot downstairs to face the music—literally, as Frank Sinatra is singing some cheesy Christmas carol.
But I can’t hide up here any longer because I know Quinn waits for me downstairs.
