I look out the window. To her knowledge, I’ve only had one of those “incidents,” but I’ve actually had several since. All of them were brought on by feeling overwhelmed. All of them ended with me passing out and having some flashback of my time with Earl Rae. Not all of the flashbacks were unpleasant either—I think those were more disturbing than the unpleasant flashbacks.
“Okay,” I answer as I scan the parking lot. It’s filled with cars. I don’t see a single space open, and this isn’t exactly a small event center.
“I’ll let you girls off here and go park.” Dad brakes right in front of the main doors and waits.
Mom throws her door open and slides out, excited. I linger in the backseat.
I’m wearing a dress Mom picked out for me after she went back to the mall alone. She was way more productive on her own than she would have been with me in tow, having an “incident” whenever I ran into someone from my past.
It’s a long, strapless plum-colored dress with a thin satin belt. It’s really lovely actually. I might have picked it out on my own if I’d been with her. It fits pretty well too—other than the chest area. Although that problem was solved by mom’s creativity with a padded strapless bra.
She picked up a pair of flats and a pair of heels, and I obviously chose the flats. A party with a couple hundred people was not the time to make my reappearance in heels after a ten-year break.
Mom made an appointment to have my hair done too. She found someone to come to our house even. Earl Rae occasionally trimmed my hair since he didn’t let me handle anything sharp after the mirror incident, but he couldn’t cut a straight line no matter how many times he tried.
When the hairstylist was done, she’d taken off some length, cut a straight line, and styled my hair in a way she called “Hollywood glam.” I called it “driving me nuts all night from being in my face,” but it did look nice.
Now that I’m sitting here, minutes from stepping inside the party, I feel like the dress and the hair are an illusion. Kind of like taking a can of gold spray paint to a rotten tooth—the shiny coat doesn’t change that what’s beneath it is still decaying.
Mom opens my door when I don’t open it. “Are you okay, Jade?”
I’ve heard that question so many times over the past two weeks my automatic response is conditioned into me. “Yeah. Just making sure I have everything.”
As I slide out of the backseat, Mom holds up a thin silk scarf in the same color as my dress. She had it dyed to match and everything. “Did you decide on this, sweetheart?”
I stare at it hanging from her hand. I don’t want to hide behind it, but I wonder if I should. Just because everyone inside this building has to know about the collar by now and has probably seen pictures of my scar doesn’t mean they need to see it two feet in front of them.
It doesn’t mean they don’t have to either.
I think of the turquoise wrap Torrin got me. I think of the way he unwound it from me. I think of what he said to me.
“No, I’ll go without.”
Mom holds it for another second, seeing if I’ll change my mind, before stuffing it into her purse. “It will be here if you change your mind.”
Dad gives the horn a tap as he drives away, then we’re walking inside. I hear the noise coming from the reception room right away. Mom told me there’d only be a hundred people or so, but it sounds more like a thousand.
It makes me freeze in the middle of the hallway.
“Jade?” Mom stops when she realizes I’m not beside her anymore. “Is this too much too fast? You don’t have to do this. I’ll explain to everyone—I know they’ll understand.” She grabs my hand and holds it like it’s a flower that’s petals are about to fall off. “We can try this again later. You don’t have to do this.”
The doors leading to the room are closed, but the noise keeps growing.
“I want to.” I swallow. “I’ll be okay.”
“Jade . . .”
“Really, Mom, I’m good.” When I move to unfreeze my feet, they come loose.
She exhales like she doesn’t believe me, but she keeps moving with me.
“Everyone’s not going to, like, yell surprise and throw confetti, are they?”
“No, absolutely not. I asked everyone just to keep doing whatever they’re doing when you come in so you don’t feel like the center of attention.”
I catch the scent of Mom’s perfume. It’s the same one she’s worn for as long as I can remember, and for some reason, it calms me.
“Is that okay?” she asks.
A rush of air comes from my mouth. “So okay.”
The longer we walk, the longer the hallway seems to become. I feel like those double doors will always be fifty steps away no matter how long we walk.
“Have you given any more thought to the news interviews?”
My spine goes rigid. “I’m not ready.”
“The cameras, the reporters, they’re not going away until you tell your story. At least, I don’t think they will.”
“They’ll lose interest eventually.”