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Mr. Steele puts in, “All seven of my children drive me to drink.”
“Six now,” Mrs. Steele says simply, then downs the rest of her beverage.
Ouch.
The server hesitates. “Miss Turner, mimosa? Something else?”
“I’m fine. I don’t need anything.” I gesture to my still half-full orange juice glass. “Thank you very much.”
I don’t need my mind muddled more than it already is.
“So, while we wait for everyone to be served their beverages, why don’t you tell us about you, Chloe? What do you do for a living?” Derek’s father asks as the server moves around the table, delivering new drinks to some while clearing empty glasses away.
“I’m in marketing,” I say.
“Which company do you work for?”
“Interplay Growth Solutions.”
“Never heard of it,” he states, and slices into his poached egg.
“It’s a boutique firm,” Derek pipes up. “Small but profitable. I’m in the midst of buying it for her.”
“I’ll quit if you do,” I warn, not even trying to hide how I feel about that.
His father looks thoughtful. But he looks at me instead of Derek. “Couldn’t we use her in one of our firms? We can always use marketing talent.”
“She’s not working for you,” Derek states, eyes pointing at his plate as he forks up another bite of his sauced salmon, then looks at me. “It’s already happening, baby. Eat some food. Don’t you like salmon?”
I’m completely out of my element here. I don’t want to ruin a family celebration, but I can’t wrap my mind around the dysfunction here.
Derek and his father haven’t made eye contact. His mother is beautiful, but looks surly and tipsy.
Naomi seems pretty normal. I don’t know what to make of Jonah. Grace so far has always seemed super bubbly. But I don’t know what to make of her, truly, because she knows what Derek’s doing with me and isn’t doing anything about it.
Elijah seems cold and calculating, but that might be that I think that because of the things I’ve read about him being rather shady in his business pursuits and in the revenge department. He really hasn’t said or done much, but he’s got a dark and almost villainy presence.
Asher is a shit stirrer and clearly by the fact that he’s in jeans coupled with what Grace said about his youth, a rebellious guy.
I’m suddenly curious about the departed Thaddeus and how he’d factor into this strange vibe here. And maybe his absence is part of the odd dynamic today. They’re missing a member of the family and even if everyone didn’t get along with him, they must feel the absence anyway.
What’s Christmas morning like with this bunch? Were things ever normal? Derek has mental health issues, for certain, but are the others well-adjusted?
“So, my small surprise,” Mr. Steele announces, “I’ve brought in an officiant to see your mother and I renew our vows. The one you liked from that wedding we attended last month, Shan. I was just on the phone with him; he’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
Mrs. Steele’s face lights up. “Oh Michael.”
He smiles at her. And the ice in his gaze has melted. So has hers.
Conversation resumes as Naomi, Grace, and Mrs. Steele get into details about the upcoming party. Mrs. Steele lauds Grace, who has helped plan it down to the last detail with as many ruby red touches as possible.
I push my food around with my fork while they name drop local A-listers who are coming, including Michael’s old college roommate, a Hollywood director who’s coming with his third wife, an A-list actress who’s a third of his age.
The scandal of this keeps the conversation going for a while, and I note Derek doesn’t participate in any of the main conversations and while his brothers occasionally pull one another into mini side discussions, none of them do so with Derek.
Naomi asks me a few more questions about my job, about my family, and I politely tell her my mom is a CPA, my father is an oral surgeon. I answer when asked where I went to school. But I’m feeling like I’m not only out of my element but also like a huge weight is on me. I’m not myself. I feel unpoised, like I’m not well-spoken. I’m taking in this strange atmosphere while they’ve all ignored the blatant hints that I’m here against my will. While they pretend not to notice my distress.
Are these people not going to do anything about the fact that he’s made it clear he’s forcing me to be here with him? How can they be so lax about it? My heart is beating too fast. I feel like I can’t get a deep enough breath. Maybe they don’t realize how bad it really is. Maybe they think he was making a joke about maneuvering me here. Maybe my reaction to Naomi’s questions wasn’t severe enough.
