Page 127 of Cakes for the Grump
“I’myour family.”
“He’s my dad,” I said, having to repeat myself again. “He’s not his drinking. I can’t let him go. Not permanently.”
“Listen, what I’m doing issavingyou!”
“I don’t need saving! I need support!”
“You are acting hysterically,” sniped Manjinder. He tried grabbing me, but I was moving too fast. “Everyone I know is waiting for us. You can’t leave the party, not until it’s over.”
“Manjinder, it will only take a minute?—”
“If you leave after him, we are over. I mean it. This is your warning. You should listen to it.” His fingers dug into my elbow.
Seconds stretched out, not only of time but the past and future. They contracted, squeezing my sides together until I felt only my heart, alone, pounding away. Moments and moments. Other junctures where I’d have to make decisions, paths I had to take, paths I had to abandon. What I could live with. What I couldn’t.
I didn’t know what was too much.
All I knew was how I needed to see if my dad was hurt.
Yanking out of his grip, I elbowed him away.
“Fuck off, Manjinder.”
And that was how my last relationship died.
THIRTY-FIVE
Iwake up and retreat,gathering a dull numbness around myself so I can keep going. It’s instinct and how I’ve always done it, for the alternative of living with all my inside pain exposed outside is too painful. Luke watches me drink morning tea with concentrated knowing, as if waiting for any whiff of a reason to gather me into his arms. Being the focus of his considerable scrutiny makes difficult feelings want to leap out of the contraption they’ve been strapped back into.
Not yet,I think.Not now.
Today is the day of the conference. There are objectives to accomplish.
“You don’t have to go,” says Luke, not for the first time.
“No.” I stir my tea. “I’m seeing it through.”
“If I could delay?—”
“I wouldn’t let you,” I tell him. “You’ve been working too hard for this. Not only that, but me. My practicing and etiquette lessons would be a waste.” I try for a smile. “Lady Francine would strongly oppose allowing personal sentimentality to be a reason you skip out on your responsibilities. On another note, do you think wearing a scarf with this dress is appropriate?”
“It’s beautiful. You are beautiful.” I know Luke sees through my diversion tactics, but he isn’t calling me on it. Maybe because he knows I can’thandle crumbling apart two days in a row. And I have a feeling he is biding his time for us to talk about everything that has happened.
Not that I mind. The sooner this conference is over, the sooner I can…
Consider my options? Are there any left?
Unfortunately, your dish was not selected to continue in the competition.
Funny how a sentence can carve into you, destroying something new every time you remember it.
Luke’s phone makes a sound. “That’s the limo.”
It’s been scheduled to take us to the jet. The conference is set in Belek, Turkey, and therefore requires travel.
“Rita,” he starts.
“No.” I stand up. “Let’s go. I want to focus on the conference.”
