Page 26 of Sins (The Sins Trilogy 1)
It pisses me off for some reason.
Keeping my face calm, I merely drink iced tea so sugary, it feels like my teeth are rotting. This dinner isn’t about Ivy. It’s about Mother.
There aren’t any mushrooms on the menu…which is odd, since Mother’s very fond of them. I comment on it, hoping she’ll notice I still remember the small details.
“We don’t eat them anymore,” Mother says. “Ivy’s allergic.”
So Mother just gave them up altogether?I glance at Ivy, who squirms. Father wasn’t exaggerating when he told me how much she means to Mother. Hell, he might’ve understated things.
“Nothing life-threatening,” Ivy explains. “Just some itchiness.”
“It’s always important to be careful,” Mother says smoothly. “You never know when some mild allergy could turn deadly. After all, seemingly harmless things can be more fatal than overtly dangerous ones.”
I suck in a breath. Suddenly the small hopes I’ve had look smaller…even pitiable. My hands clench and unclench around utensils as I try to calm the self-loathing swelling in my chest.
Harry glances at me, concerned. Ivy is studying me as well. Father is pretending he heard nothing. So long as Mother doesn’t become physically violent, he won’t object or interfere.
On cue, the amuse-bouche and soup are served. The dining room descends into silence except for the sound of silverware and china clinking. Edgar finally arrives to take his seat. Unlike me and Harry, Edgar takes after Father one hundred percent, face and body. Since graduating from Harvard, he’s been working in the family business.
He smiles. “Great to have you home, Tony. Does this mean you’ll be joining me in the salt mines?” He winks good-naturedly, trying a little too hard to act like everything’s normal.
If it were under any other circumstances… If Mother forgives me, then it’s only logical I join the business. Blackwood Energy is privately held, and the family has always run it, ever since its founding.
My gaze slides to Mother briefly, searching for a sign that she won’t mind me joining the company, but all I find is blankness. “Well, I—”
“Such a dry topic for dinner,” Mother chides, her tone mild.
“Of course,” I say. “What would you like to talk about?”
She regards me for a moment, then smiles vaguely. “You’ve been away for so long you probably haven’t heard what’s going on in the family. Did you know Ivy is studying at Curtis? It’s one of the best conservatories in the world. Harder to gain admission there than to an Ivy League school. Not even five percent of the students who apply can get in, and those who do receive full scholarships. And Ivy got accepted when she was only fifteen.” She beams at Ivy. “I couldn’t be prouder.” She turns to Father. “Don’t you agree, dear?”
“Of course. A remarkable achievement.” Father smiles, but I have a feeling he doesn’t care one way or the other about Ivy’s “achievement.” As long as she’s doing something to put a smile on Mother’s face—even if it doesn’t quite reach her eyes—he’s satisfied.
Her lips pulled in, Ivy looks down at her plate.
“What are your plans, Tony?” Father asks me after a few moments of silence.
“You must’ve studied hard to graduate from Princeton in three years,” Edgar adds, doing his part to highlight my accomplishments, although I don’t think he’s picked the right one. Still, I’m grateful. One of the first to defend me nine years ago, he’s been trying his best to reconcile me with Mother. Harry’s too young to remember everything clearly, but as the eldest, Edgar knows the toll the painful past has exacted from all of us.
“I only wanted to make you proud,” I say, my eyes on Mother, praying for some kind of reaction from her, hopefully something positive and warm.
She sips her wine, then studies her salad fork. “I am proud. I didn’t expect you to come back after you left for Europe.”
A hard lump sticks in my throat at her choice of words. I never wanted to leave. I wanted to stay and earn her forgiveness. But when Father told me it would be best for everyone if I left…
It upsets your mother too much every time she sees you. I can’t hold this family together as long as you’re around.
Acid floods my belly. Mother is like a field of landmines. One wrong step, and everything I’ve done will go up in flames.
Harry starts telling a funny story I can’t process through the fucked-up concoction of desperation, remorse, anguish and frustration I’m feeling. It makes me wish I were anywhere but here…or better yet, had taken Katherine’s place nine years ago. I don’t register the rest of the dinner—what we eat, drink or talk about. I laugh when everyone laughs, shut up when everyone grows quiet. Only when dessert is served do I notice that Ivy’s watching me, her eyes worried.
Fuck. I don’t need her pity.
I shoot her a sharp look, then polish off the chocolate mousse on my plate.
“Tony, why don’t you sing one for us?” Edgar says.
It’s like the proverbial bolt from the blue. “What?”
