Page 4 of A Little Too Forward

Suzanne pushes me toward the door and ducks behind me, making me laugh at her antics. When I get my balance again, I notice we’re being watched by some guests with stunned expressions. Giving them a nod, I grab my sister, and we march into the house together.

The main floor is already packed with people. My parents have lucked out with the Toronto weather and have the patio arranged so people can mingle outside. Which I have to believe is a blessing because although my childhood house is a decent size, my parents have never met a person they didn’t like…and it looks like they invited every single person they know.

I pause midway into the dining room, taken by surprise. Every available surface is covered with dishes of food. I was expecting everything to be in one-use aluminum bakeware pans, but the good china is filling up most of the space. That can’t be right.

“I thought we paid for a catering service as part of our gift.”

Suzanne chuckles, shaking her head. “We did. This is Mom’s version of a ‘few more nibbles.’”

A headache starts to form behind my eyes. All the work we were trying to reduce for our mom so she could enjoy her retirement party ended up not working-—because of course it didn’t. It would feel like the end of the world if the woman rested for a moment.

“Well, at least we’ll have leftovers to eat for the next week,” I mutter, trying not to sound too frustrated by the situation.

“More like two,” Suzanne replies, giving my back a pinch so I start walking again. I try to smack her but miss. “Let’s go find Mom and Dad. The sooner they see you, the quicker we can start drinking.”

I nod, following her lead as she starts to zig and zag through the crowd. I’m stopped a couple of times by friendly faces and a few more times by people I have to pretend to know before I finally make it to the backyard. My parents are mingling on the grass with a large group of people.

As soon as my dad spots me, he raises both arms in the air and yells my name. His face lights up at seeing me and knowing the scene he’s making is embarrassing me. The glass of champagne he’s holding in one hand sloshes over the rim, and he dances away from the falling liquid. I can feel dozens of eyes on me.

A loud laugh escapes my lips as I shake a finger at him. “Serves you right, old man.”

“What?” he chuckles. “Can’t a father express joy at seeing his youngest child? I haven’t seen you in months.”

“You saw me a couple weeks ago, Dad. Don’t be so dramatic.”

He places his free hand against his chest, a humorous but exaggerated look of offense on his face. “Me? Dramatic? Never!”

I’m about to roll my eyes when he folds me into his arms. The hug is tight and long. After a few seconds, we begin to rock back and forth. The warmth of his embrace feels so good after the day I’ve had. Hell, the last month, really.

Tears well in my eyes, but I fight to hold them back. The last thing I want is for sad tears to be shed tonight. This is a celebration for my parents, not a pity party for me.

Giving him one last hard squeeze, I pull back and look up. “Congrats on your retirement.”

“Thank you, my love. Your mother thought this day would never come.”

“I think we all believed you’d teach forever.”

He opens his mouth, no doubt to provide me with some wisdom about how learning is an eternal blessing or whatever, but another voice cuts him off.

“My turn. My turn,” Mom scolds, pulling me away from Dad. I’m expecting a hug of hello from her as well, but instead, she grabs me by both cheeks and stares deep into my eyes.

Oh God, no.

“What’s happened, Sabrina?”

Son of a bitch. I knew she would do this. One look and she would know.

Damn, she’s good.

“Nothing. Everything is okay, Mom.”

Her eyes dart back and forth, looking deeper into mine. She doesn’t believe me—which is fair. I’m a crap liar, always have been. Yet she doesn’t push like I thought she would. Instead, she gives my cheeks a soft pat and then brings me in for a quick hug.

“You come talk to me when you’re ready. Okay?” I give her a nod, fighting back emotion. “Have you eaten? Let’s get you and your sister some food. Oh! Gwen! Look who finally arrived.” My mother gestures to me, and Gwen throws her head back on a laugh.

Under my breath, I curse at her comment. Right on time is apparently late. And she’s made a joke about it with her friend. Fabulous.

For the next hour, I’m introduced to people whose names I don’t catch and passed around to family members like I’m a teething baby. I realize they all know something is up with me, but I’m relieved no one is pushing the subject. I’m not ready to talk about any of it.

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