“I don’t understand.” Marin can’t imagine a scenario where he could hurt Trisha. “What are you talking about?”
“Ask her. I know you have a lot on your plate, but one day, when you have some time, ask her.” Sonya reaches out, takes Marin’s hand. “What happened between the two of you at the house, she didn’t mean it.”
“I know.” Marin did; deep in her heart she understood. It was rare for one of them to lash out. They were so used to keeping their thoughts and feelings in check. When one of them did explode, there was a reason. A volcano that had stayed silent for too long had to erupt, spewing lava, a trembling the only clue of what was coming.
When they were young, Marin would catch Sonya staring at other children crying and throwing tantrums. She would watch as parents consoled them rather than punishing them for daring to share their emotions. As a family, they were never allowed to display anything except obedience. Any emotion they had was always second to Brent’s.
“Why are you defending her?” Marin asks quietly, curious. “It wasn’t your fight.”
“Because it is. We’re all in the same battle, always have been.” Sonya stares down at the grass before facing Marin. “I don’t know if I ever knew that. I just hope it’s not too late.”
Marin starts to mingle with the arriving guests, her concern for Trisha slipping to the back of her mind. She busies herself with welcoming people to her home, ensuring the waitstaff offers everyone a drink and an appetizer to munch on. Belatedly, she realizes Gia hasn’t made an appearance. Searching through the crowd, she looks for her but comes up empty. There aren’t any signs of Raj either.
Quickly making her way into the house and up the stairs, she throws open Gia’s door to find Raj and Gia on the bed. Gia is still in her pajamas and Raj is quietly speaking to her.
“What are you doing?” Marin exclaims, keeping her voice down so no one else will hear. “The house is filled with people for your party, and you’re sitting in your room?”
“I never asked for the party,” Gia says quietly, glancing at Raj for support. “I’m not ready to face all these people.” Her lower lip quivers, revealing her helplessness.
“Yes, you are,” Marin says, refusing to coddle her. “This is your opportunity to show everyone you are fine, that you will be back on your feet in no time.”
“That’s what matters to you?” Gia asks in obvious disbelief. “What people think?”
“Did you think you could live your life in here?” Marin asks. She comes to stand next to the bed, reaches out to caress Gia’s hair. “It doesn’t work that way, Beti,” Marin explains. “Whether you like it or not, you have to live in a society. How that society perceives you will determine your place in life.” Marin begins to rifle through Gia’s closet, searching for clothes. Finding a suitable sundress, she pulls it out and offers it to Gia. “You look beautiful in this one.” She offers Gia a smile. “Come, Beti, everyone you love is downstairs waiting.”
“No,” Gia corrects, “not everyone.” She fidgets in her bed. “Not Adam.”
Marin starts to correct her, but Raj interrupts, stopping her before she does more damage. “Marin,” he says warily, his voice sounding strained. “It’s her birthday. Let’s table this, shall we?” He takes the dress out of Marin’s hand. “Gia, you are sixteen now. More than capable of picking your own clothes, am I right?” Softening his voice, he prods, “Get ready and come down, Beti. Your mom is right, everyone is waiting for you.”