Page 42 of Love, Second Chances and Other Nonsense
The request hangs between us, loaded with meaning neither of us wants to examine too closely. I should say no. Be honest. Tell him I’m already planning my escape.
Instead, I say, “Of course,” and walk to the bedroom to retrieve it.
The ring slides onto my finger easily enough. In the mirror above our dresser, I glimpse myself, smiling, pretty, wearing aring that once meant everything and now feels like a shackle. I barely recognize this version of me, this woman who says yes when she means no, who swallows her pain to make others comfortable.
When I return to the kitchen, Adam’s relief is palpable. He kisses me desperately. He doesn’t understand that it’s too late for flowers and pot roast and please-wear-your-ring. The damage isn’t in what he’s done; it’s in what he hasn’t done, over and over, since the day we arrived in this town.
* * *
“Adam?” I call into the bedroom a few days later. “We’re going to be late.”
The weekly family dinner at the Kelley’s house has long been my personal form of torture. Tonight feels especially daunting, the first one since Adam announced he’s going on the cruise without me. I brace myself as we pull into the driveway, the pumpkins and harvest decorations mocking me with their picture-perfect domesticity.
Paula opens the door before we knock, her smile tight around the edges when she sees me. “There you are! We were starting to worry.” She hugs Adam first, then offers me a brief, perfunctory embrace that barely qualifies as physical contact.
The house smells of roast chicken and cinnamon, the table already set with Paula’s best china. Hailey is transferring mashed potatoes into a serving bowl, her smile widening when she sees her brother.
“The cruise crew is all here!” she exclaims, giving Adam a hug. Her eyes flick to me, then away. “Mom was just talking about the excursions we’ve booked. There’s a snorkeling trip that sounds amazing.”
“Sounds fun,” I say brightly, as if the reminder that I’m not included doesn’t sting. “I bet the water’s beautiful there this time of year.”
Paula and Hailey exchange a look. I pretend not to notice.
Lauren gives me a sympathetic smile as she takes a pan of cinnamon rolls out of the oven. “It’s too bad you couldn’t get the time off, Caitlin.”
“Yes,” Paula says, her voice dripping with false sympathy, “maybe next time we can plan further ahead so you can join us. Though the holidays are so special with family.”
The emphasis on “family” isn’t subtle. Neither is the implication that I’m not part of it.
“Absolutely,” I agree, my smile unwavering. “Family is everything.”
My cheerful agreement seems to throw Paula off-balance. She’s used to my polite but obvious hurt, my attempts to assert myself as Adam’s fiancée. This new, agreeable version of me clearly unsettles her.
“Adam mentioned you might have to work over Thanksgiving anyway,” she continues, probing for a reaction.
“It’s going to be busy,” I agree cheerfully, taking my seat. “Did you know Rosie’s sells hundreds of pies in the days leading up to Thanksgiving? Sometimes the lines stretch clear out the door. We might be just a diner, but people in Mount Pella sure love our pies.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Paula says with a tight smile, sipping at her wine. “I’ve always baked my own pies.”
“And I bet they’re delicious.”
“I do feel sorry for you,” Hailey butts in, “all alone on Thanksgiving. If you want, I can ask the parents of some of my friends if you can join them for dinner. I know a few families that are always welcoming strays.”
“Hailey!” Adam barks, half rising in his chair, frustration clear in his face and voice.
“What? I’m trying to be nice.”
“She’s not a fucking stray, she’s my fiancée.”
“Adam Kelley! You know better than to use that kind of language in this house!” Paula snaps, her face going red. “I raised you better than that!”
“Sorry, Mom,” Adam mumbles, dropping back into his seat and rubbing his face with one hand.
I wait a moment and then turn to Hailey. “It’s really sweet of you to worry about me, but I will be fine. I have an invitation for Thanksgiving dinner, so no worries about me being alone.”
Adam’s head whips toward me. “You never mentioned that.”
I shrug, “You didn’t ask.”
