Candace schooled her voice carefully, desperately trying to keep the deadly edge from gathering too much notice from the other guests. “Mother, I can still be a positive influence.” Without looking at Stephen, she muttered, “My ultimate goal is to be a LPC. But I could work for CPS, or do any number of things. Helping people who need it.”
She saw him nod in her peripheral vision, but couldn’t tell how interested he looked. She didn’t really give a damn.
“I don’t know,” Sylvia went on, more to Stephen than to her, “but I don’t like the thought. Consider the element she’ll be coming in contact with.”
“Well, it’s a noble aspiration, Mrs. Andrews. You should be proud of her.”
“Yes, of course, of course. We are.”
Right. Her mother would’ve cut off her tuition when she changed her major if Dad hadn’t talked her out of it. Which surprised her, because he was usually right up her mom’s ass controlling her every move, the master puppeteer. That they’d actually disagreed on something like that had floored Candace.
“Stephen, I have a wonderful idea,” Sylvia twittered suddenly. “We’ll be going to our lake house for the weekend after the wedding. You should come by for a visit, and of course you’re always welcome to stay if you don’t already have accommodations. Maybe you and Candace can get better acquainted then.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Andrews,” he said smoothly. “I’ll probably take you up on that.”
He hadn’t looked away from Candace. She felt like a caged mouse under that stare, and it made her seethe. Taking a breath, she reached for her water glass and hated how her hand trembled. Hated how that breath had been like trying to inhale through sludge.
Drowning. She was going down.
“I figured someone as beautiful as you would be seeing someone by now,” Stephen said.
The glass froze on its way to her mouth. By now. He remembered her, all right. But that wasn’t what caused her to shudder. All night, she’d tried not to think about Brian. His image in her mind would’ve been her final desperate gasp, the one-two-three count until sweet oblivion…because she figured she would completely lose her mind. In front of all of them.
At that moment, it felt as if every set of eyes in the room was trained on her, though truthfully it was only Stephen’s and her mother’s. Everyone else chattered right along, sucking up to the happy, too-perfect couple beaming at each other over champagne and filet mignon at the head of the table. She watched it all as if from a separate plane of reality.
Slowly, Candace put her glass back down without ever taking a drink. “There is someone,” she said quietly.
“Nonsense,” her mother announced, earning herself a murderous look she easily ignored. “She isn’t seeing anyone, Stephen. Not at all.”
It was the truth, wasn’t it? She wasn’t. At all. But…
“I am in love with someone,” she said firmly, staring daggers at Sylvia Andrews. “I may not be with him, but in my heart—”
“Stop this right now,” her mother said, her voice practically a hiss, every word its own sentence. “If I hear one more word about that boy, so help me God—”
It took only one innocent question to bring the world to an end. Michelle was the one who asked it, leaning over the table from her seat on Stephen’s opposite side. “Who?”
Horrified, Candace looked past him at her cousin’s lovely, inquisitive face. “Michelle, I— Can I talk to you later about that?”
Michelle’s brow furrowed. “Well, of course, if that’s what you want. I was just curious. I wasn’t aware you were that interested in anyone.”
“She still doesn’t know?” Sylvia demanded. Now they were starting to get some uneasy glances. “Well, that’s reaching a new low, isn’t it, Candace? I thought she at least knew what you’ve been trying to do.”
Candace’s voice was scarcely a whisper. Given the sound of her own pulse thundering in her ears, she could hardly hear it herself. “Mother, please don’t.”
“Ashamed of yourself? You should be.”
When Sylvia’s face began to swim in her vision, Candace calmly picked her napkin up out of her lap and laid it on the table, scooting her chair back as she stood. Stephen half rose next to her. “Excuse me, I need some air.”
“Candace Marie, I’m not done. Sit down.”
“I’m done. If you have something to say to me, then you’re going to have to drag your ass out of that chair and follow me.” Amid some gasps but mostly shocked silence, she whirled and strode for the door, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Several chairs scraped against the tiles behind her. Wonderful. How many were coming outside to witness this? She was shaking so hard, her heart beating so fast, she feared she might faint. The hot tears that had been building spilled over, agitated by her pounding steps, leaving warm trails on her cheeks that were oddly comforting.
Finally, blessedly, she emerged into the muggy air outside her aunt and uncle’s palatial home. It was stifling, but far less so than the atmosphere in that dining room. Out here the sky was huge and stained with twilight. The crickets were joyous, and she felt she could finally breathe again. Until her mother seized her arm and jerked her around to face her. Michelle was at her side, along with Candace’s father, who looked stern and way too tall and mightily pissed off. A few seconds later, her older brother Jameson stormed out.
“I can’t believe what I just heard in there,” her dad thundered. “If I ever hear you disrespect your mother again—”
“What about my respect, Dad? As an adult, and a member of this family, not to mention your daughter? When in the hell is it my turn to get some respect?”
“When you earn it,” Sylvia snapped. “When you learn to act like an adult and make adult decisions. When you can refrain from episodes like the one we all just witnessed, maybe then it’ll be ‘your turn’.”
“Aunt Syl—” Michelle began, trying to get a word in. Candace’s parents promptly drowned her out.
“You still technically reside under our roof,” Phillip warned, putting a finger in her face. Michelle tried to lay a calming hand on his arm, but he ignored her, every iota of his focus trained on Candace. There had been moments in her childhood that look had terrified her. Now, it only infuriated her more. Here comes his all too familiar “respect my authoritah!” bit. “As long as that’s the case, we’re the authority figures, Candace. I’ll not have you running wild and embarrassing this family while we still foot the bill for it!”
“What have I done?” she shrieked. “I go to school and I go home! I’m not out partying and blowing your money on booze and male strippers, Dad. And really, so what if I was? I still have a f**king four-point-oh average—”
“Candace!” both her parents bellowed in unison. Even Michelle’s eyes grew to the size of salad plates. Jameson, holding his tongue so far, crossed his arms and stared at the ground, frowning. She knew better than to expect any help from that quarter.
“Listen to me!” She ticked off on her fingers. “I have a four-point-oh, I’m not out getting myself knocked up, I don’t drink, I’m not doing drugs! I am freakishly boring. All because of you, and not wanting to embarrass you, and being terrified of what you might think or say or do to me. I do everything for you. But I don’t want to be a freaking school teacher. Please get off my ass about that. Do you want me to be miserable my entire life?”