Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
My reality may be different and may feel more tangible to me, but to them, it’s foreign. So I brush their comments under the rug of judgment in my mind and try to give them the benefit of the doubt. From experience, I know I can blame their upbringing more than them. They are victims of their surroundings.
Katherine stands and pours herself a drink. After two long sips, she turns to face us. Her expression is annoyed as she rants. “We should be in there. We have as much right as Charles to be in there, dammit! Where the hell is Liz? If she were here, we’d be in that room knowing what the hell is going on.”
“She’s coming for dinner. She didn’t want to waste her precious time waiting around with us,” Donald replies. His tone is flat, and he seems disinterested in the topic of Liz. Turning to me, he must see what I’m thinking because he explains the relationship. “Liz is our sister.”
“She also has a very short fuse for bullshit, which is why she’s not here,” Katherine says. “This is so unnerving. What do you think we inherited, Donald?”
She looks at him as if the rest of her life is determined by his answer. “I have no idea how that woman’s mind worked.”
She looks at me, but I seem to heighten her annoyance, so she turns away and stares through the glass out into the darkness
I sit there, almost revolted by the venom they spew in connection with Grace. The Grace I’ve been told about was nothing less than wonderful. I understand that every story has two sides, or maybe more, but I don’t understand them. I know they are trying to send me a not-so-subtle message about Charlie. It’s like they’re saying one thing, but beneath the surface of the words lays a hostility that predates tonight. Unlike Charlie and his feelings toward his family, they seem to hate each other, and with that recognition, my heart hurts for him.
“Charlie.” I turn toward my name and see Charlie standing at the door. My name slips from his mouth again, but he’s eyeing his cousins. The distrust is evident. “It’s time for dinner.” He stretches his arm out, offering me his hand.
The three of us rise, and Donald asks, “Your name is Charlie?”
I nod, realizing I never introduced myself. The discomfort of the situation distracted me from proper etiquette.
I take Charlie’s hand, and he tucks me against his side, moving me away from them. “Sorry that took so long,” he whispers.
“It’s all right. I was fine.”
“I didn’t know they were here, or I wouldn’t have left you.”
I stop and look up at him. “I’m okay. Are you?”
He pulls me quickly into a small corridor off the main entryway. While looking into my eyes with determination, he takes hold of my upper arms.
“Dinner might be intense. We can leave if you want.” His voice is low, and he glances over my shoulder quickly before returning to me.
“And you’re worried? Should I be?”
His hands drop to his side, and he takes a deep breath, leaning against the wall. “Things didn’t go how we thought they would. I just want you to be aware that dinner might be strained if we stay.”
“Do you want to stay?” When all I want is to be here for him, to make sure he’s all right, he’s focused and worried about me.
“No, but I promised my mother that I would.”
“And you’d break that promise?”
“Well, I think it might be awkward for an outsider to sit through this.”
“I’m fine, Charlie. I don’t want you to break your promise for me. And I don’t want to insult your mother.” I have to say that he’s making me nervous. “Can we sit near each other?”
“Yes, I’ll make sure we do.”
He seems to relax once we step back out into the bright foyer. He looks down the short hall toward the room where the other eight members of his family are filing in. Donald and Katherine pass us, but not without giving us a curious once-over.
When we enter the dining room, the first thing I notice are the place settings with name cards. Assigned seats. We move closer to scope out the arrangement. Charlie is seated next to his mother at one end, and I’m farther down the other side of the table. Our eyes meet. He quickly grabs his name card and walks down to the chair across from me. He picks up that name card and says, “Katherine, you’re sitting down there now.”
She huffs in frustration. “And I was so looking forward to the stimulating conversation I was going to have with your friend.” Her sarcasm is overstated as she walks to the other seat he left for her. Thanks to Charlie, I’ve dodged a bullet.