“Excuse me?” I answered, almost not believing what I’d just heard.
“Well, Oxford is an almost one thousand year old school for the elite and the upper class. I think it’s good that they’re finally letting in people of your status.”
I was about to tell her exactly where she could stick her ‘status’, but to everyone’s surprise, it was Jack who spoke up first.
“You know, just because the peroxide in your hair has leaked into your brain and you couldn’t form a good opinion if you tried doesn’t mean you have to drool out whatever dumb opinion you were told at your last charity dinner out here.”
The table sat in stunned silence, but Jack wasn’t finished yet.
“Quite frankly, Oxford would lose its reputation if it started letting in people of the likes of you based on the fact that you came out of a famous uterus rather than people that actually deserved a spot. Last I checked, Edmond Halley’s father was a soapmaker, and yet you’d rather have the children of idiots like yourself, who have to complain to the headmaster that your darling child isn’t the intellectual star you’d hope, attend? That’s not a great long-term plan, but then again, you’ve never been able to look further than the tip of your nose.”
I know it’s a cliché, but my jaw literally did drop open as Jack absolutely stomped his aunt in front of everyone. That glint I’d seen once or twice before was in his eyes, it was like they were on fire. He leaned forward, aggressively, almost as if he was daring her to try and say something, to try and defend herself.
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, like she wanted to reply, but didn’t know what to say.
Instead, her husband leaned forward.
“Look, Jack, my wife misspoke, ok? She didn’t mean any offense to Julianne, and she apologizes, right Amy?”
The look Amy Milton gave Evan just then could have wilted an entire garden. It was pure hatred, pure fire. But, realizing that she was the only person in the room on her side, she relented.
“Of course I didn’t mean any offense. I apologize, Julianne, if I offended you in any way. Of course you deserved your spot at Oxford,” she told me, a thin smile on her face. I knew she didn’t mean it.
“Thank you,” I replied in the same cool tone. I shot a grateful look at Jack as well. Was it my imagination, or did he smile at me slightly?
The whole situation was just so weird. Who would have expected that Jack of all people would have been my white knight? Not me, that was for sure.
Of course the rest of Christmas lunch was incredibly awkward. My mother and Sally discussed the latest designer trends, both of them obviously hoping to move past what had happened.
I silently mouthed “thank you” to Jack at one point when no one was looking, and I know he mouthed back “you’re welcome, sis”, just to annoy me.
Maybe he just hated his aunt more than he hated me.
Chapter Eleven
After desert was served (damn I love crème brulée) everyone piled into the main family room where the Christmas tree was set up. I had found out a few days ago that John actually hired people to decorate the tree. As much as I thought that was a travesty and basically the least-Christmassy thing ever, the tree did look phenomenal. It was like something out of a magazine. Hell, the whole room was. Stockings hanging from the fireplace, a nativity scene on the mantle, it was almost creepy how much this room could have been a stock photo.
Jack stood by the far wall, the kids all piled in front of the tree looking for their presents, while everyone else found chairs and couches around the room to sit on. My mom sat next to John, her hand on his knee, smiling fondly at the kids as they excitedly started begging their parents to let them open gifts.
I sat down with a cup of tea – my first truly British habit, as sometimes coffee was just too much – and watched as the kids tore into their presents happily. Then, when they were finished and ushered into another room to play with their new finds by the nannies, the adults exchanged gifts as well.
My mom’s gift was a gorgeous set of diamond earrings, which glistened in the sunlight. From John I got a lovely Hermes scarf, and I knew my mom had helped him pick it out since it was the exact shade of turquoise that had been my favourite colour since I was a girl.
From the relatives I didn’t know I got the standard gift basket fare, and I was once again so thankful for Annie’s advice as I had the same for them: designer chocolates, expensive wine, that sort of thing.
Finally, I went over and gave Jack his bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue label. I’d found it at a liquor store, and the manager told me it was the most expensive one he had. I wasn’t going to do it, but Annie convinced me.
“After all, if you give him an awesome gift and he doesn’t have anything for you, he’ll owe you one.”