CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Summer
‘SUMMER!’
Edward’s shout jerks me out of my nervous, excited brain fog. The ball is today. Today!
I’m just praying nothing goes wrong. But if his voice is any indication, something already has.
I burst from the bedroom just as he arrives and walks me straight back in again, swinging the door closed behind him.
I stare up at his face. He’s sporting a deer caught in the headlights look and my hand goes to my neck on impulse. ‘What’s happened?’
He shakes his head, strides past me to the window, looks out at the driveway, strides back and then returns once more.
‘What the hell are my parents doing here?’
Ohhh...I nip my lip, swallow back the nerves.
‘James says you invited them?’
He looks at me now, his eyes pinning me with their accusation.
Another swallow. ‘I did.’
‘Why?’
‘Because, like I told you, I used Katherine’s plans as a basis.’
‘And that included her guest list?’
‘Katherine would never have excluded your mother from this, and I didn’t want to either.’
‘But...’
He rakes a hand through his hair just as his mother’s voice rings through the entrance hall, demanding attention from the staff. I cringe a little, but I stand by my decision...even if it’s now adding to my acute case of nervous belly.
‘Why is it such a problem, Edward? There’ll be lots of other people here and she’s confirmed they’re only staying for one night and then leaving again tomorrow. It’s just twenty-four hours. And you did say a small part of you hoped that one day things might get better with your mother...isn’t the ball as good a place to start as any?’
He’s staring at me, his mouth hanging open, his eyes still wide.
‘She’s your mother, Edward, not an axe murderer.’ I give an awkward laugh. ‘I’m sure you can get through one evening together. And you can catch up with your father, too. By your own admission things are better between the two of you at least.’
He shakes his head. He looks ill. Beside himself ill. I step closer, surprised at the strength of his reaction.
‘I’m sorry.’ I reach for his hand. ‘I should’ve told you.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘Well, at first, I couldn’t get you to listen to anything, and after... I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want you to talk me out of it.’
He studies me intently and I squeeze his fingers softly.
‘It’ll be okay.’
‘I wish I had your confidence.’
‘I’ll lend you some of mine,’ I tease softly, and it coaxes out the smallest of smiles.