Wendy scoffed in her wasted gown. “I’ve never even waltzed with anyone besides Father. Some experiences need more than paper and ink to be felt, Mother.”
“You’ll feel all of those things in due time—when you meet the right man and get to know each other.”
Would that happen before or after the vows? Wendy rolled her eyes. “That’s easy for you to say. You married someone you love.”
“True, I love your father very much, but that’s not why I married him.”
“Then why?”
She dabbed away the gloss at the corner of her mouth as she once more stared in the mirror. “He seemed…sensible.”
“Sensible?” Wendy curled her lip. “Was he at least handsome?”
Her mother chuckled in that dulcet bell-like way she so often did. “Your father is still handsome.”
A soft knock rapped on the door, and John, her eldest brother, stepped in. “Father’s ready to leave.”
Wendy’s vision blurred as she rushed to her brother. “Oh, John, you must give me your ticket. Please! I’ll trade you anything!”
“Sorry, sis. I can’t. Jenna’s already expecting me.”
She pursed her lips. Jenna was only seventeen. Why should she attend the gala if Wendy couldn’t? She turned back to her mother. “Are you sure Father didn’t get Michael a ticket?”
“I’m sure. You know Michael. He’s not interested in such things.”
“What’s taking everyone so long?” Her father appeared behind John. “The limousine is waiting.”
Wendy looked away, infuriated by his stubbornness and her tears.
“In a moment, darling.” Her mother moved to the dresser. “Wendy, where’s your diamond tennis bracelet? I want to borrow it.”
Her request was salt in the wound. “Seriously, Mother?”
“Don’t be a sourpuss,” John said, righting his tie in the mirror as he winked at her.
“All of you, get out of my room!” Wendy snapped.
How dare they mock her feelings?
Outside, Nana barked wildly.
“What in God’s name is that dog barking at now?” her father griped, marching to the window to stare through the marbled glass.
“It’s too late for deliveries. Something must be out there, George. It’s likely just a squirrel or a raccoon.”
“It’s the driver. He’s waiting for us by the gate.”
“I’ll be ready in a minute.” Her mother clipped the diamond bracelet around her ivory-gloved wrist and moved to the window seat. “Where did these leaves come from, Wendy? Did you have the windows open?”
“Why would I have the windows open, Mother?”
Her mother checked the latch, and jealousy twisted in Wendy’s stomach as they approached the door. She refused to wish any of them a good night, so she turned her back to the lot of them.
“I just need my stole, George darling, and then I’m ready.”
Her father sighed. “John, tell the driver we’ll be right there.”
They left the nursery without another glance back, and Wendy blinked through the pain of abandonment. Once more, she was forgotten and overlooked.
