“Well don’t ask for my opinion if you don’t give a shit about the answer.”
I stared down at my chicken kiev and seasonal roasted vegetables, trying to pretend I wasn’t in the middle of this argument between the two men.
“It’s alright, honey. You know how kids are at that age,” my mother told her fiancé. I knew her hand would be on his arm, her voice like butter. She could definitely turn on the charm when she needed to.
“Of course. Though Julianne, you haven’t started at University yet, are you looking forward to it?”
“I am,” I replied. “And I’m so grateful for your help in getting me enrolled.”
“Oh it was nothing. If you didn’t have the grades to back it up there’s nothing I could have done to help,” John Sr. replied, and I heard a small scoff coming from his son. God, how could someone who looked that amazing be so much of a douchebag?
“Well nonetheless, I appreciate everything you’ve done,” I replied with a smile. Hopefully it would help him to know that someone appreciated his efforts, even if it wasn’t his own flesh and blood.
“You know what? I’m done. I’m leaving,” Jack said just then, standing up. “If you want to get compliments from some charity case by writing letters and paying for her degree then that’s up to you, but I’m not going to listen to her jack you off with thanks.”
I sat in my chair, stunned, my cheeks reddening. Had I seriously just been called a charity case?
“Rude,” I replied, rolling my eyes at him, but Jack Alcott never even gave me a second glance. He just threw his napkin down on his half-finished plate and stood up.
“You will sit back down right now, young man,” his father ordered, his voice soft but deadly.
“No, I won’t. I didn’t want to come here anyway, and it was obviously a mistake.”
Leaving the room without another word, a dead silence hung over us for a minute or two until the roar of the Lamborghini in the driveway broke us all out of the stunned silence that had dominated us completely.
“Mary, Julianne, I must apologize for my son. I’m so sorry.”
“Please, John, no apology is necessary,” my mother told him. “You told me of your troubles with him, I know how children can be. He’ll come around one day.”
I know how children can be? Thanks mom, it’s not like I’m right here or anything. Besides, I might not have been perfect, but I sure as hell wasn’t ever like that!
I decided to give my mom the benefit of the doubt, that she was just saying that to make John feel better.
“Of course, don’t apologize,” I chimed in.
“Thank you, both of you, for understanding. It’s been very hard on John Jr. since his mother died. I think the fact that I have finally moved on as well is just the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
I had no idea about that part of the family’s past, of course. My mother had told me very little about John Alcott before we moved here, and I had wondered what had happened to John’s mom, but of course would never have asked.
The rest of dinner passed with banal, mundane conversation as we all tried to move past the events of the night, and failed. Though the major awkwardness was almost worth it for the chocolate raspberry tart with berry coulis and whipped cream served at desert. I thought my mother was trying to murder me with her glare when I asked for seconds, but John was more than happy to oblige. I knew I was going to get a lecture about having to work on my figure later, but that extra slice of cake was absolutely worth it.
After dinner I quickly excused myself and retired to my room. I wasn’t the least bit tired, thanks to my extended afternoon nap, so I pulled out my laptop and hopped online.
Catching up on my Facebook and Instagram, I realized that basically none of my friends had contacted me to see how my move had gone, or anything.
The thought made me a little bit sad. I wasn’t that close to anyone in high school, but I did have a small group of friends, and while I knew they were also getting ready for the start of the new semester, it still would have been nice for one of them to care.
I scrolled through their Instagram photos and saw memories of my city. I looked out the window now but saw only darkness. I knew the afternoon was only getting started back home, and as I looked at photos in Central Park, of great deli sandwiches, taken at Times Square, I suddenly got so incredibly homesick.
All I had here was a mother who was obviously super into her new husband, a new father figure who I had to admit seemed really nice, and a brother that was the biggest douchebag on the planet, that I hoped I didn’t have to see again until the wedding.