She supposed he made good use of that number. And while part of her wanted to be happy for him, there was too much bitterness rushing through her veins, preventing her from being the bigger person at the moment.
Someone tapped their fork against a champagne flute. Bran’s father stood. “I’d like to make a toast. To my son and his beautiful bride-to-be, Perrin. May the two of you face a life full of celebrations as happy as this one. First, your wedding. And then birth announcements and Christenings…”
Maggie remained numb and emotionless as others dabbed misty eyes and Bran’s father listed every cause for celebration in a marriage stretching from the engagement party to the golden wedding anniversary.
“Cheers.”
“Cheers,” the room echoed.
Maggie smiled at Perrin and chugged her champagne, desperate for it to take effect.
“I’d like to make a small toast as well.”
Maggie spit a mouthful of champagne back into the flute, earning a glare from her mother. She shrugged and mouthed sorry.
Willow stood beside Ryan in all of her glowing glory, holding her champagne like a celebrity might cradle an Emmy.
“Bran, you and I have always been close. You’re not only my brother, but you’re also my best friend. I’ll never forget the day you traded in all your comics to buy me a ticket to see Bon Jovi, which was probably the best gift I ever received—until now.” She raised her glass, and Maggie tried to smother an eye roll. “You’ve outdone yourself and given me a sister, who I love just as much as you. Thank you.”
Maggie frowned as everyone raised their glasses and awed. Perrin stood and hugged Willow, wiping her eyes as if she shared this artificial bond.
That’s my sister. Get your own.
She shot back the last sip of champagne and when a server appeared with more, she held up her glass. “Could I also order a martini, please? Extra olives.”
Her mother frowned. “Perhaps you should wait until you eat, Maggie.”
“Trust me, Mom, it’s better if I don’t.”
Her mother crossed her arms and sat back, making no effort to hide how displeasing she found her behavior. While everyone else indulged in the bubbly stuff, Maggie buried her nose in the business end of a martini glass. Things were going down a little too quickly, and she almost forced herself to stop until she overheard Ryan order a glass of Tully on the rocks.
“Jameson’s better,” she mumbled, finishing her drink.
“What?” Perrin frowned at her. “Are you drunk? We haven’t even eaten yet.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll eat.”
Bran leaned around Perrin’s shoulder. “It’s nice to see you out, Maggie.”
Like she was some sort of escaped gorilla from the city zoo. “Yeah, I’m a real crowd pleaser.”
Her gaze drifted to the end of the table, where Willow whispered something in Ryan’s ear. Her fingers played with his as they rested on the table.
“Is something wrong?” Perrin hissed.
She looked at her sister, remembering that this was her special night and all the ways Perrin had been there for every special moment in Maggie’s life. Heat rushed up her neck and her stomach knotted with guilt. She set her empty glass down and pushed it away.
“No. I’m sorry. Nerves.”
Her sister frowned, her eyes asking for the truth.
“I’ll stop,” Maggie whispered.
Dinner was served in six courses. Throughout the entire meal she carried a bowling ball in her stomach, making it impossible to swallow more than a few bites. Her mother watched her like a hawk, commenting on the weight she’d lost and worrying that she wasn’t getting enough sunlight or nutrition.
“I saw a study that most Americans are vitamin D deficient,” her mother commented after making reference to Maggie’s complexion.
Yes, Maggie was genuinely concerned that her lack of vitamin D might be her ultimate demise. “I’ll pick up some supplements, Mom.”
“It’s not a joke, Maggie May. You’re not young anymore. Before you know it…”
She turned a hard glare on her mother, daring her to finish that sentence and tell her how unprepared she might be for one of life’s fun little shocks.
Her mother returned her attention to her dessert plate. “You understand.”
She ground her molars. The woman just couldn’t drop anything without that last word. “Yes, I do understand.”
Perrin turned. “What’s going on? Mom, drop it.”
“Drop what? I was merely having a conversation about the importance of vitamins.”
“Oh, bullshit,” Maggie grumbled, flagging down the waiter. “Can I have another martini, please?”
“Well, whatever you’re discussing, save it for another time,” Perrin hissed.
Their mother set down her fork in a huff. “I see, now that you two made-up, I’m back to being the odd man out.”
Maggie frowned. “We weren’t in a fight.”
“No? What do you call it when a family member disappears for two years?”
Maggie’s jaw slackened. She couldn’t believe she just said that.
Perrin looked equally shocked. “Mom.”
“Well, I’m sorry. You might easily forgive her absence, but I don’t. Holidays, Mother’s Day, birthdays… Those moments are just gone now.”