Chapter Twenty-One
We walk up the stairs into a huge entrance hall and my arm tightens around Guy’s as the opulent surroundings hit me. It’s incredible. Huge windows with gold and maroon striped drapes, marble floor, and on every wall an enormous mirror. And as for the ceiling, it’s so high you need a pair of binoculars to work out the pattern, which is a shame if you ask me because someone went to a lot of trouble with all that plaster.
“Let me check your wrap,” Guy says lifting it from my shoulders.
He’s seems so grown up. He clearly isn’t scared shitless by the Country Club’s finery, like me. I follow him over to where a young girl in uniform is waiting.
“Careful,” Guy growls, as the girl accidentally drops my wrap when he hands it to her.
“Sorry, sir,” she says, her face turning bright red. Guy doesn’t say anything just glares at her.
“It was an accident,” I say quietly in his ear when he turns to face me. “She looks really upset.”
Now it’s my turn to get the treatment, if his arched eyebrows are anything to go by.
“Suzy, if you work in a place like this there are certain standards to be upheld.”
Oh, excuse me for being sensitive to another human being. Clearly that doesn’t happen in a place like this.
“Suzy, Guy.” The sound of Lori’s voice echoes around us, preventing me from turning this into a difficult moment, and everyone in the hall peers in the direction of her voice. She rushes over and stands between us, linking her arms through each of ours.
“Lori, you look gorgeous,” I say.
She looks totally amazing in a dress that’s mid-calf and has a fitted blue bodice with sequins and a floaty blue and pink chiffon handkerchief skirt. She releases our arms and does a twirl.
“Thanks. I’m so glad you like it.”
“Like it? I love it. You make me feel really ordinary.” And I’m not just saying that so she can give me a compliment.
“Don’t be daft. You look so sophisticated. Black is definitely your color.”
Well I won’t disagree there. Maybe I should get out some of my previous-life clothes and wear them seeing as they’re all black. Hmm. Maybe not.
“Thanks. I bought it from Cleo’s in the mall.”
“Well, it’s totally fab. Come on and I’ll show you where we’re sitting.”
She leads us into a huge ballroom off the entrance hall. And I mean huge. There’s a dance floor which starts in the middle and goes all the way down to one end of the room until it reaches the stage—on which a band is warming up.
We follow Lori to the other side of the room and stop at one of the round tables (there must be at least fifty of them) with eight seats around it. In the middle of each table is a silver artificial flower arrangement, and attached to each chair is a silver helium balloon with Marlene and Bruce written on it, surrounded by red hearts. And every place setting has a silver napkin pushed through a silver heart-shaped napkin ring.
Oh. My. God. Is this over the top or what?
“This sure is something else,” I say to Lori, not sure what the correct reaction should be. For all I know she thinks it’s as crazy as I do.
“I know,” Lori replies. “Isn’t it the most adorable setting ever?” Okay. She loves it. I glance at Guy to see if his face is letting on what he thinks of it all, but he looks enraptured too.
It’s me. It’s got to be me. I’m way out of step again. I blame my parents for not having the sense to subject me to sufficient strange parties for my good taste to be eroded. I can’t wait to tell Maddie about it, at least she’ll laugh.
Already seated at the table is Rachel, with some guy I haven’t met before, Jana and Sam (who have just started dating—quite a shock to everyone because in the past they’ve never been that friendly toward one another even though we all hang out together) and George who Lori finally plucked the courage to invite.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” booms a voice through a microphone from across the other side of the room, making me jump. “Please take your seats. Dinner is served.”
“Who’s that?” I ask Guy, nodding at the man on the stage who made the announcement.
“The MC, isn’t it?” Duh. If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking.
“MC?”
“Master of Ceremonies.” He noticeably shakes his head, and tuts. He clearly thinks I’m an idiot for not knowing. Well, at least I know which fork to use. Thanks to Rosie’s insistence on watching Pretty Woman on a regular basis.
Actually I’d know which fork to use anyway. My family isn’t totally devoid of social graces.
“Right. Thanks.” I go to pull out my seat—no fear of making a faux pas here as each place is named, I’ve got Guy on one side and George on the other—but Guy beats me to it and he holds out the chair for me to sit down.
“Thank you.” I sit down in a very ladylike manner, smoothing my dress underneath me and remembering to keep my legs together. No mean feat for someone used to wearing jeans or long skirts most of the time. “Hey, Lori,” I call across George who’s already seated beside me. “How come you’re not on the table with your parents?”
“It wasn’t easy,” she says giggling and shaking her blonde curls. “Took me ages to convince them that it wouldn’t be fair to leave you all on your own not knowing anyone. Not counting you,” she adds to Guy. “I want to have some fun tonight. And not sure sitting with them qualifies.”
“Probably not.” I grin, then pick the menu up from the table. “What’s Potage Nîmoise?” I ask no-one in particular.
“Roasted vegetable soup.”
“Thanks. A bit too—” Hey. That voice is familiar. And it sure doesn’t belong to anyone on this table. Nah. I’m losing it. It can’t be.
“You’re welcome, Suzy.” My head shoots around to the left. As if in slow motion I raise my eyes until they’re locked on the face belonging to the voice.
“Ryan,” I squeak. What is it with me and my voice in tricky situations? “You didn’t say you’ve been invited. How do you know Lori’s parents?”
He rolls his eyes upward. “Get real Suzy. I’m working. I’m your waiter for this evening. I don’t know these people.” His tone is decidedly frosty. It’s not my fault. I didn’t know he worked here, did I?
“Sorry. I’ll introduce you.” I turn back to the table. “Um, guys. This is Ryan.”
You know, I can’t believe I’ve just done that. Am I not trying my utmost to keep him away from my friends? And now, without even having a drink to blame my behavior on, I’ve gone and screwed it up.
They all say hi, with the exception of Guy who stares at Ryan. “I remember you from Starbucks,” he says. “The friend from summer camp. You get around don’t you? Are you sure you’re not stalking Suzy?”
He grins and looks to the rest of them for applause. Frankly, I think he’s decidedly unfunny but the others laugh. Apart from Ryan, who momentarily scowls, shrugs and pulls out his notepad to take our drinks order.
What say I get totally shit-faced? Then I won’t care if Ryan and Guy are in the same room. What say I get a grip and stop being so pathetic and just act like everything’s ok? It’s not like Ryan’s going to stand up and make some earth-shattering announcement about me and my virgin status and his role in the whole affair.
This is real life, not the movies.
***
Okay, we’ve got through dinner and everything’s going just fine. Fortunately Ryan, by design or otherwise (probably the former if his attitude earlier is anything to go by), didn’t serve our table after the initial time. He’s about ten tables over to the left. Anyway, I can’t see him unless I sit right back in my chair and peer over Guy’s left shoulder. Which is hardly polite, so I don’t do it too often.
“Suzy, dance?” Guy asks.
Before I have time to answer he jumps up from his seat. Looks like I have no choice. Actually, I was going to say yes. I love dancing. Though I can’t say I usually dance to this type of music.
“Sure.”
The dance floor is packed, mainly with friends of Lori’s parents all dancing like they’ve just stepped out the seventies and are on some sort of drug that strips you of any sense of shame.
We push our way through until we find a space just about big enough for us to dance in. And wouldn’t you just know it, the bandleader announces they’re going to do an Abba medley.
“Oh no,” I moan. “Want to go back to the table?”
“Are you kidding? Abba songs are great. My parents listen to them all the time. Have you seen that tribute band that tours here?”
“Um, no. Can’t say I have.”
Half an hour later there seems no let up to the Abba revival, and I’ve had enough. I signal so to Guy and his face falls.
“Just one more?” he asks.
“Sorry. Need the bathroom.” I don’t but at least it gets me away from here. I mean, there’s only so much Abba a girl can take and I passed that stage at least four songs ago. I fight my way back to the tables and then head out the way we came in. I’m not sure where the bathroom is but I guess there’ll be a sign somewhere.
I scan the entrance hall once out there but can’t see anywhere looking remotely bathroom-like. I suppose with these really smart places they try to be discreet about where the bathroom is. Like we don’t all use them all the time.
In desperation, I go through a door on the left and find myself in an empty corridor. I wonder where this leads to? Probably the kitchen or somewhere. I carry on walking until reaching another door, which leads into the garden. It must be a back way because French doors in the ballroom lead out here too. Oh well, I’ll hang around here for a while. Keep out of sight.
“Suzy. Is that you?” So much for keeping a low profile.
“Yes.” I glance from side to side but can’t see anyone. “Who is it?”
“Me. Ryan. Over here, by the wall.” I stare in the direction of his voice and can just make out a dark shadow that looks about the right height, so I stroll over.
“Hey. What are you doing out here?”
“It’s my break. And I came out to cool off.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“You mean apart from it being hot inside?” I don’t like the way he’s speaking. It’s so not Ryan.
“Um—yeah.”
“Well, how do you think I feel when I see you mixing with all those rich people knowing you’d rather be friends with them than admit our relationship?” He folds his arms and glares at me.
“But—you know it isn’t like that.”
“Isn’t it? If you can dismiss everything that happened between us so readily, clearly our relationship meant nothing to you.” This can’t be happening. He must think I’m such a bitch.
“Of course it did. More than you’ll ever know. But everything’s different. What I’m doing now, it’s all about the future. My future.”
“And for the sake of your future, you think it’s okay to deny our relationship just so you can be a member of some club you had no business joining in the first place?”
I bow my head, not daring to face him. I really hate myself.
“No, it’s not okay. But what choice do I have, if I want to help Mom and Dad come to terms with Rosie dying? Surely you understand. It’s nothing to do with you and me. What we had. Well, that was so special and I’ll never forget it. But so many things have happened since.”
“Suzy, you just don’t get it, do you?” His voice is softer than before. Please let him understand. “This is you. And your life. You’re not Rosie. Not your mom and dad. You’ve got to do what makes you happy.”
It’s easy for him to say that when he doesn’t know the whole story.
“What’s happiness got to do with it?”
Ryan reaches for my hands and holds them in his. A lump rises in my throat and my body starts to shake. He puts his arm around my shoulder and I lean into him welcoming his warmth and support.
I couldn’t bear for him to hate me. I’ll do anything not to lose his friendship.
“Suzy. What are you doing?” Guy’s voice shatters the moment.