Macon broke the silence. “Why don’t you show Ethan to the dining room? I’m sure you remember where it is.”
“But Macon—” The woman I guessed was Aunt Del looked panicked, and again, confused, like she didn’t quite know what was going on.
“It’s all right, Delphine.” I could see in Macon’s face he was working things out, jumping from step to step, ahead of the step we were all on. Without knowing what I had stumbled into, it was actually comforting to know he was there.
The last place I wanted to go was the dining room. I wanted to bolt out of there, but I couldn’t make it happen. Ridley wouldn’t let go of my arm, and as long as she was touching me, I felt like I was on autopilot. She led me into the formal dining room where I had offended Macon the first time. I looked at Ridley, clinging to my arm. This offense was far worse.
The room was lit by hundreds of tiny black votive candles, and strands of black glass beads hung from the chandelier. There was an enormous wreath, made entirely of black feathers, on the door leading into the kitchen. The table was set with silver and pearl-white plates, which were actually made of pearl, for all I knew.
The kitchen door swung open. Lena backed through the door, carrying a huge silver tray, piled high with exotic-looking fruits that definitely were not from South Carolina. She wore a fitted black floorlength jacket, cinched at her waist. It looked strangely timeless, like nothing I had ever seen in this county, or even this century, but when I looked down, I noticed she was wearing her Converse. She looked even more beautiful than when I had come over for dinner… when? A few weeks ago?
My mind felt cloudy, like I was half asleep. I took a deep breath, but all I could smell was Ridley, a musky smell mixed with something way too sweet, like syrup bubbling on the stove. It was strong and suffocating.
“We’re almost ready. Just a few more—” Lena froze, the door still in mid-swing. She looked like she had seen a ghost, or something much worse. I wasn’t sure if it was just the sight of Ridley, or the two of us standing there arm and arm.
“Well, hello, Cuz. Long time no see.” Ridley advanced a few steps, dragging me along next to her.
“Aren’t you going to give me a kiss?”
The tray Lena was carrying crashed to the floor. “What are you doing here?” Lena’s voice was barely a whisper.
“Why, I came to see my favorite cousin of course, and I brought a date.”
“I’m not your date,” I said lamely, barely choking the words out, still glued to her arm. She pulled a cigarette from the pack tucked in her boot and lit it, all with her free hand.
“Ridley, please do not smoke in the house,” Macon said, and the cigarette instantly went out. Ridley laughed and flicked it into a bowl of something that looked like mashed potatoes, but probably wasn’t.
“Uncle Macon. You always were such a stickler for the house rules.”
“The rules were set long ago, Ridley. There’s nothing you or I can do to change them now.”
They stared at each other. Macon gestured, and a chair pulled itself away from the table. “Why don’t we all have a seat? Lena, can you let Kitchen know we will be two more for dinner?”
Lena just stood there, seething. “She can’t stay.”
“It’s all right. Nothing can harm you here,” Macon assured her. But Lena didn’t look scared. She looked furious.
Ridley smiled. “You sure about that?”
“Dinner is ready, and you know how Kitchen feels about serving cold food.” Macon walked into the dining room. Everyone filed in after him, even though he had barely spoken loud enough for the four of us in the room to hear him.
Boo led the way, lumbering in with Ryan. Aunt Del followed, on the arm of a gray-haired man about my dad’s age. He was dressed like he was right out of one of the books in my mom’s study, with kneehigh boots, a frilly shirt, and a weird opera cape. The two of them looked like an exhibit from a Smithsonian museum.
An older girl entered the room. She looked a lot like Ridley, except she had on more clothing and she didn’t look so dangerous. She had long, straight blond hair with a neater version of Ridley’s choppy bangs. She looked like the kind of girl you’d see carrying a stack of books on a fancy old college campus up North like Yale or Harvard. The girl locked eyes with Ridley, like she could see Ridley’s eyes through the dark shades she was still wearing.
“Ethan, I’d like to introduce you to my older sister, Annabel. Oh, I’m sorry, I mean Reece.” Who doesn’t know their own sister’s name?
Reece smiled and spoke slowly as if she was choosing her words carefully. “What are you doin’ here, Ridley? I thought you had another engagement tonight.”
“Plans change.”