Page 33 of What Happens This Christmas
Like I’d soon be.
Shunned from our group.
Like I’d soon be.
Nothing more than a name that was spoken about in hushed tones, as though out of fear they’d catch the unfortunate circumstances of her life.
I didn’t want to think about it, not any of it, but it would have been silly for me not to. Jeez, I needed a paper bag. My mind was racing like a sports car on an open road, playing out my fate like I knew exactly how this was going to go down. Probably because I did.
Things would be vastly different come January. Everything I’d worked so hard for would end, cease to exist. As would I, at least to these people and this life I had become accustomed to. All because of a piece of paper.
I’m divorcing you.Nick’s words haunted me, spiraling and expanding into larger-than-life script in my head. How could this be happening to me? What did I ever do to deserve this?
As the waiter left with the empty plate from which I had enjoyed a seasonal salad with leafy greens, candied pecans, and acorn squash, my stomach rolled over.
“You look positively green,” Lilian noted, taking a sip of her martini. She pointed to my face. “Are you feeling okay?” She scrunched her face up like she feared whatever I had might be contagious. As usual, she was only worried about number one—herself.
Plastering a phony smile on my face, I nodded. Unless an arctic blast blew through the Caribbean, I wouldn’t be sharing exactly what I’d been feeling or thinking. Not with these women. “Yes, just a touch nauseated. It’ll pass. Please, go on.”And turnyour attention from me while I sit, sulking over my inevitable destiny.
Eloise reached out, a hand touching my arm. “If you want to leave, we can go home.”
When I looked over at her, I saw compassion and warmth in her eyes. Sometimes I wondered if I was worthy of being her sister. She deserved to be related to someone who hadn’t become the way I had.
The thought was fleeting, though, and I placed my hand over hers, tapping it. Hopefully that was the urge she needed to remove her hand from my arm. It might have been touching, but it was also unnecessary.
Before I could open my mouth to respond, she went on. “I’ll just have them pack up my scallops in one of those foil swan things, and we can be on our way. Would you want them to pack up your fire-roasted salmon too?” She waved her hand, tsk tsking. “Who am I kidding? Of course you do.”
Lilian gasped, a hand flying to her chest. “Leftovers?” She looked aghast. “Really?” she asked, her expression contorting into one of utter disgust.
“They aren’t leftover. We never took a bite. It’s more like to-go,” Eloise explained, as if that made all the sense in the world. And maybe it did, but it wouldn’t to these women. That much I could guarantee.
That feeling washed over me again, and I feared I’d go from green to greener in a few seconds flat. I laid my hand on Eloise’s wrist in hopes that would silence her. “No, it’s fine. I’m okay. Thank you anyway.” My expression remained stoic, just as it needed to so that these women didn’t get their jollies out of watching this unfold.
Maribel didn’t say a word, which was very unlike her. Maybe a cat had gotten her tongue. We could only be so fortunate. She did make a point to shake her head, though.
While the waiter served our entrées, Lilian homed in on me. She wasn’t going to quit, was she? “What is going on with you, Candy? First, talk of a job, and now, leftovers. Are you and Nick in financial trouble?”
She would have loved that, wouldn’t she? These ladies weren’t the type to kick a person when they were down, but they would certainly walk around them. With a very large berth, of course.
I nearly choked on my own saliva, making a scene of it so there wasn’t a question in their minds. “No. What? Absolutely not. It wasn’ttalk of a job, and I’m not taking home leftovers.” I made sure that last word came out with the appropriate level of disdain it needed for this exchange.
“What’s wrong with leftovers?” Eloise asked, her voice hitting a new octave.
I couldn’t believe she would let this topic offend her. She was Eloise…she didn’t get offended. Not a single thing offended her. Ever. “Nothing, sweetie.”
She rolled her eyes. “Cici, you know I hate when you patronize me.”
Was she trying to make a fool of me in front of others? I wouldn’t stand for it. I shook my head and shot her a look, widening my eyes just enough to get the message across that I wanted her to drop this. “I’m not. Why don’t we talk about something else?”
Maribel stopped eating her blackened cod long enough to make a miserable effort. “Yes, like when will you be leaving, Eloise?”
Her tone made it obvious that she was judging my sister, which meant the gloves were about to come off. Eloise wouldn’t sit idly by while these women mistreated her. Not that she should. It just meant that things were going to get ugly. It’d be my worst nightmare.
Cutting a glare to Eloise, I gestured for her to eat while I cut a piece of my salmon and tried to casually answer. “She’ll be here through Christmas. Right, Eloise?”
“Tragedy. It seems this is not the life you’re accustomed to, Eloise,” Maribel said.
Nodding at her side like an idiot bobblehead doll, Lilian added, “May make the holiday hard on you. Have you considered what a Christmas in…anywhere else would look like?”
