Page 88 of You're So Vine
Mitchell Durant nods slowly. “Rough?”
“It was, sir,” I remember to add.
I’m worried this conversation has been a total bust, but Ava’s dad nods again, claps me briefly on the shoulder and says, “Thank you for your service.” Then he walks away.
“See?” Ava’s beside me in an instant. “He likes you!”
“How can you tell?”
“He made an effort to talk to you,” she replies. “Usually, he just stands and glares.”
I bend and whisper in her ear, “Am I going to make it out of here alive?”
She laughs. “Sure. Unless you choke to death on a salmon puff.”
Ginny calls out from the doorway. “Dinner’s ready, everyone. Please come and take your seats.”
I drop the canapé in my empty beer glass and leave both on a side table. Although on second thought, if I shove the salmon puff down my throat and die right now, I won’t have to suffer through dinner.
Too late. Ava’s taken my arm in hers and is steering me onwards. I just hope it’s not my head that gets served up on a platter.
ChapterTwenty-Nine
AVA
Mom’s really pulled out all the stops tonight. Dinner is a feast. Sliced rare roast beef, gratin potatoes, baked squash with goat cheese, and Brussels sprouts, a vegetable no one would hate if they tried it Mom’s way: caramelized with chestnuts. Delicious. Dad doesn’t eat meat, of course, but the vegetable dishes are a meal on their own. Mom always buys organic, and from local growers whenever she can, so everything’s fresh as it can be. Dad’s finicky tastes are our gain.
The table setting is beautiful, too, with the fancy gold-rimmed dinner service Mom usually only brings out for Christmas, and a centerpiece of artfully arranged sprigs and berries. There’s a cluster of cutlery and glassware by each plate setting, and across from me, I see Cam survey his with a look of bemusement and faint terror. If I stretch my leg right out, I can just kick him in the shins. He looks up, startled, and I mouth, “Watch me.” He nods, but I can tell he’s still freaked out. I feel bad for subjecting him to this social torture but it’s not like I had any choice. Mom is sweet and gentle but when she makes up her mind to cook for you, she will not be denied.
“Mom, this is incredible,” says Danny. “Rumors of Ava’s death should be exaggerated more often.”
“Danny!” Shelby protests.
She’s seated between him and Cam, while I’m between Nate and Jackson. Mom and Dad are at each end, with Mom nearest the kitchen.
“It’s bad luck to joke about things like that,” Shelby scolds. “We should do something to counteract it, like—I don’t know—burn some sage?”
“Or how about we keep the matchesawayfrom the dried herbs,” suggests Nate firmly, “and let Mom say grace so we can eat?”
Mom’s always liked to kick meals off with a short prayer of thanks, even though Dad thinks religion is an irrational superstition. Which is ironic coming from a man who believes refined sugar is worse for you than exposure to uranium.
After we’ve all murmured “Amen”, Nate takes charge of the wine while Mom directs the filling of plates. I’m pleased to see she urges Cam to have more. He’s taking small portions to be polite, although I know his hunger gauge must be running on the redline. But Mom has three sons, and she knows how much men really need to eat. She won’t rest until his plate is piled high.
Shelby swirls the wine in her glass and sticks her nose in to inhale the bouquet. I forget sometimes that she’s Flora Valley’s head vintner. Her sunny personality, and the fact that she looks like she just graduated high school, can deceive people into underestimating her. But when it comes to wine, Shelby knows her stuff. Nate, too. That’s why they’re such a good match.
I glance across at Cam, who’s focusing all his attention on clearing his plate. I realize we’ve only known each other for four days, all of which were spent in a heightened state of worry that I might be seriously ill. Okay, I still might have chronic fatigue, which will suck, but it’s not fatal and I trust Doc when he says we’ll have a plan to manage it.
But … manage it where? I can hardly move in permanently with Cam—his house barely fitshim. And what will I do here for a job? Can I even hold down a job if this tiredness is permanent? I can’t expect Cam to support me. Can’t expect Mom and Dad to, either, though I know they wouldn’t hesitate. Now Dad’s health scare is over, they’re looking forward to the next phase of their life together. They don’t need me as a third wheel.
I reach out for my wine glass to find that Nate has filled it with sparkling water. It should be a minor disappointment, but I feel hot tears sting the corners of my eyes. Dammit. This is a happy family dinner, a celebration. I am overemotional but I willnot cry, not even a little snivel. Take a deep breath, Ava. That’s it. In … and out…
“You okay?”
Jackson speaks softly by my ear. I nod, not trusting that my voice will be steady.
“Might be the adrenaline finally leaving,” he murmurs. “When you’ve been in fight or flight mode for a while, the landing can be a bit bumpy.”
I take another deep breath and compose myself enough to look him in the eye.
