“Hestole her engagement ring!”
Ilaid a hand over my eyes, feeling suddenly sick and exhausted. “Can you guysjust stop?”
Willalaid a hand over my bare knee. “Seriously, we're not trying to make you upset.But you love him, and sometimes, when you love someone, you become blinded byyour feelings and—”
“Oh,my God, I'm not a child!” I jerked my knee away from her hand. “And yeah. I dolove him. So, stop talking shit about him. I don't want to hear it anymore.”
Willaswallowed and glanced in Mer's direction, looking for backup. But Mer onlyshook her head and gestured toward me, as if to say, “What can you do? We'velost her already.” I busied my brain with every possible thing I could say,every pointless jab I could make at their lives and husbands, but what would bethe point? What would it accomplish? Truthfully, there wasn't much to say abouttheir husbands. They were successful, Ivy League graduates, working as asurgeon and a defense attorney, and each made money to support their familieson one income. Their records were clean, their lives were otherwise boring, andI'd have to really try to dig up any dirt on them. Vinnie was filthy incomparison, and they had plenty of ammo to fire at me if I dared to open mymouth. So, I remained silent throughout the rest of the afternoon and into thenight, right up until they left and I was alone with my parents at the house.
“So,what happened today?” Mom asked, rinsing the dirty dishes, and handing them tome to put in the dishwasher.
“Whatdo you mean?” I replied, playing stupid.
“Yougirls got into a fight?” Her innocent tone told me she knew exactly what hadhappened, and I groaned in response, shaking my head.
“Whatdid they tell you?”
“Theydidn't tell me anything,” she insisted. “I overheard a couple of things when Iwas sitting in the yard.”
Dadwalked into the room and stood at the kitchen island, then also asked, “You girlshad a fight?”
“Oh,God,” I grumbled, shaking my head. “It wasn't afight. Willa andMeredith just like to stick their noses into stuff that has nothing to do withthem. That's all it was.”
“AboutVinnie?” Dad asked. Sighing, I responded with a firm nod, and he said, “They'rejust worried about you, honey pie. And if I'm being honest, we all kinda are.”
Ishot him a sour, hurt look over my shoulder. “Seriously? Come on, Daddy.”
Holdinghis palms out in front of his chest, he offered a sympathetic smile. “I'm notattacking you, or him. But ... can you really blame us? You never talk abouthim, you spent the past week over there and never once talked to any of us—”
“Hisfatherdied!” I shouted, throwing a spoon into the rack and backing awayfrom the dishwasher to stare him down. “And by the way, it was so nice of youall to not come to the funeral. Ireallyappreciated that.”
“Andrea,”Mom muttered, shaking her head and shutting off the faucet. “Nobody isattacking you, and like I’ve said to you before, I like him. But we're justconcerned about—”
“Aboutwhat? About his past?”
Dadwinced apologetically. “Well ...”
Throwingmy hands in the air, I shouted, “What the hell do you really think I'm doing?Do you seriously think I'd be over there with him, getting high and riskingeverything I've worked hard for? How stupid do you think I am?”
“Nobodycalled you stupid,” Mom answered, her tone teetering on her own anger. “But youcannot expect any of us to trust this guy when you have only brought him aroundonce in the however many months you've been seeing him. We don't know him—”
“He'salways busy!”
“Busydoing what? You're going to tell me he's working twenty-four hours a day? Youdon't want us to treat you like you're stupid, Andrea, but stop treating uslike we are, too. And you can't get mad at us for caring about you and beingconcerned. We're your family, we're supposed to care.”
Ilooked at my mother, and then my father, as hot rage boiled the blood in myveins. I heard my heartbeat, pounding in my ears, and tempting me to detonateright there in the kitchen. But I forced myself to stay calm and pulled in adeep breath.
“I'mnot mad at you for caring,” I said, my voice eerily controlled. “I'm mad thatyou all saw one stupid picture on his Facebook page, fromyearsago, andhave decided that's how he's going to be forever. None of you would be treatinghim like this if he was wealthy or if he was a Harvard graduate—”
“You'rebeing ridiculous. We didn't—”
“Letme finish,” I shot at my mother, and she clamped her lips shut. “I've been overat his apartment all week because he's heartbroken, and that's what you do whenyou love someone. You don't abandon them when they need you. And I'm sorry thatI haven't thought to call you in the middle of helping him mourn. I'm sorry youhaven't been the first thing on my mind while I've been washing dishes andmaking sure he eats. I thought you'd understand all of that, but I guess not.”
Withthat final word, I hurried from the kitchen and went up the stairs to mybedroom, where I closed the door behind me and threw myself on the bed. Jamiewas there, of course she was. Sitting on the chair at my desk. I ignored herand wished I was at Vinnie's place, where there weren't any ghost or static.Where I could live my life and just focus on us, on him and our relationship,without them getting in the way.
Iclosed my eyes and pretended she didn't exist. But when I opened them again,there she was, standing in front of me, with a look of curiosity and concern onher face.
“Leaveme alone, Jamie.”
