Page 44 of Just a Plot Twist
“You guys…” Oliver gestures between us. “…been hanging out since you played the hero the other day?”
“No,” Claire says, in a rush. “I mean, he sent me flowers…a get well soon type of a thing…and then he had to go to Longdale’s city offices and we ran into each other there. And then the party supply store.” She shrugs.
“Have you met our grandparents?” Sophie asks me, reaching out to straighten Elizabeth’s dress. Claire’s holding the baby, rocking side to side and whispering into her hair.
“At the city offices. They were there, too, randomly.”
We’re interrupted by an announcer over the speakers. “Can I please draw your attention to the stage to introduce…Mr. and Mrs. Vernon and Patricia Hanson!”
A smattering of applause sounds as the curtain opens to him walking her in. She’s wearing a big, white, sleeveless ballgown with a plunging neckline. Her husband is in a white tux with a white top hat.
Claire and Sophie both cover their giggles. “I’ve never seen so much of Grandma’s skin!” Claire says.
That may be true, but the whole effect of the two of them together is great. “They look nice,” I say.
After a slideshow, in which there are photos of their daughter, Claire’s mom, and several of Claire and Sophie, the couple speak about their lives together. They both get emotional when they talk about losing Marie andthen explain how building their business together made their marriage even stronger.
And there goes the knot in my throat again. I want genuine affection like that. One that lasts with someone I’m compatible with. I’m worried it won’t happen for me; that my chances have passed.
A receiving line forms and Claire positions us near the front of the line. Patricia and Vernon scowl when we approach.
“What in the world did you do to my swans?” Mrs. Hanson says in a low voice, glancing at me with a heavy, dissatisfied sigh before turning her attention back to Claire.
“Nothing,” Claire says, her face crumpling. “I was trying to get them to come closer.” She glances at me, her green eyes searching for any kind of relief she can find.
“It looks like the swans are calm now,” I add. “The handler said their reaction was a fluke.”
“How do you even know what happened, Grandma? You weren’t out here yet.”
Patricia gives a rueful smile and lifts a shoulder, pointing to a beam in the ceiling.
Claire gasps. “You have cameras in here?”
“Wedon’t have cameras,” Vernon says. “Thevenuehas cameras. We’ve been in the media booth watching what’s been going on out here.”
“We had to know the right time to make our grand entrance, you know,” Patricia says. “We wanted everyone to be dying with anticipation.”
“You look lovely, Mrs. Hanson,” I say, shaking her hand. “And this extravaganza is the best one I’ve ever been to.”
Patricia softens her scowl a little, maybe because I used the proper term or maybe because I complimented her.
I shake Vernon’s hand, too. His grip is so tight I have to rein in my burst of surprise. I should have known he’d do that. With his stick-straight posture and large frame and presence, he wants to intimidate.
And, okay, I’m intimidated. Yet, I return the grip with a flash of satisfaction that he lets go first.
Claire and I move away from the line and when she runs into some other people she knows, I slip a few feet away to stand near Peter and Mandy.
“You remember our daughter, Lora?” Mandy says to a middle-aged couple.
“Right. She works in finance, too, right?”
“Yes,” Peter says. “She got her MBA a while back.”
“She wanted to follow in her father’s footsteps.” Then, Mandy’s voice, full of pride, dips low. She moves towards the couple, grasps the woman’s arm, and says something that makes them all laugh.
Did she say something about Peter joining her in the business venture? Whatever it was, it feels off.
The quartet strikes up a waltz and I pull Claire into my arms as those around us begin to dance. “Gotta look the part,” I say as her brows sneak up her face. “To protect your ankle, we’re only going to pretend we’re dancing.”
