Page 67 of One Bad Knight
Though we’d already thrown one party at our home this week, my uncle insisted we go all out again for my birthday. Except instead of the large hall, this party was set up in the gardens out back. He’d tripled the twinkle lights and brought in beautiful vintage lounge furniture and scattered it throughout the garden around the main dance floor. There were delicate, flaky napoleons, and raspberry dark chocolate mousse cakes with the special, edible golden seal from my favorite pastry chef. Exotic flower displays were everywhere, filling the evening air with sweet floral scents.
My gown was blue, the shade of the moon, and it was probably the most beautiful dress I’d ever worn. A slit rode up one side and jewels topped the pointed, sweetheart neckline. The gathered material accentuated my hips. My hair fell in wavy curls, pulled back on one side with a crystal clip. For my twenty-third birthday I looked 1940s Hollywood glam.
Throughout the night, my uncle spoke to everyone about how he couldn’t be prouder of my latest artistic success at the gallery, and we’ve decided that I would forgo law school to follow my passion. Maybe even travel to Europe for an extended period to study.
That last part was news to me, but I didn’t hate the idea.
I needed a fresh start, and someplace far away from that damned sycamore tree. I couldn’t stop checking it all day, though I knew Gatsby wouldn’t be back.
It all should have felt exciting and satisfying. I didn’t have to hide anymore. I could live my life and this new connection forged with my uncle appeased all my secret childhood dreams of how our family could be.
Still, I found myself escaping the fray into the house and up the stairs. I told myself I preferred to use my own bathroom, but the truth was I needed to take a breath, or twenty. I still felt suffocated amidst all those people who gave plastic smiles and nodded at the right times. Viet hadn’t shown up yet, but she was never on time for anything. The party was an hour and a half in, but knowing Viet, she was probably still in her robe, curling her hair.
When I came upon the long hallway, there was already a girl sitting on a long, tufted bench. Someone else had stolen my idea of hiding from the crowd.
“Molly,” I said in surprise.
My cousin’s girlfriend had her hair pulled back into a French twist, and she wore a pink satin gown with puffy sleeves that made her look more like a child than a woman in her early twenties. She reminded me of Alice in Wonderland with those big blue eyes.
She jerked, as if caught doing something bad. “Oh, hi, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
I waved her back down before she could get up. “No, you're fine, but can I, uh, join you for a little bit?”
Surprise remained on her face, but she scooted over, making room. I settled in next to her and let out the deep sigh I’d been holding in. We sat like that for several minutes, not speaking.
Finally, she spoke up. “Happy birthday, by the way. I’m sorry, I should have said that sooner. Are you enjoying the party?”
I shrugged and gave her a half smile. “I suppose so.”
For some reason I couldn’t bring myself to paint on the big smile and talk about how great things were with Molly.
“You hate these things too, don’t you?” she asked.
I was taken aback by her perceptiveness. “Is it that obvious?”
She shook her head, her hands gripping the edge of the bench. “No, not at all. But I've been with your cousin for two years. It took a while to pick it up. But you are very good at playing it off. I’m miserable at it.” She frowned and stared at the paisley carpet.
“But it’s nice to be with Gabe, though, right?” I only said it because I was missing Gatsby by my side. What I would have given to have someone be my ally at these things. I’d feel much better when Viet got here, but it still wasn’t the same.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” she said before blurting out, “but he’s a total kiss-ass. He hates these things too, but he’ll do anything your uncle or Dave want him to do. It’s like he has no mind of his own.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Wow,” was all I could say for a minute. I’d never heard her string so many words together, and I was surprised to find I heard a trace of an Eastern European accent.
Molly folded her hands in her lap. “Yeah, sorry. That just kind of came out. Sometimes I word-vomit the very things I’m not supposed to say.” The accent was gone as if it had never been there. I realized how little I knew about my cousin’s longtime girlfriend.
After a moment, I nudged her with my shoulder. “Why are you with my cousin, anyway? You could do so much better, and you wouldn’t have to go to these dull parties.”
She shrugged. “I guess he did all the right things, said all the right things, and he didn’t take up too much of my time. But I’m beginning to see that while we kind of check the right boxes for each other, I’m wondering if I want to be the right set of checked boxes.”
I let out a low whistle.
“Plus,” she said, lowering her voice, “I get the sense he is hiding something from me. Like there is some dark, secret part of his life I don’t know about.”
The way her big blue eyes regarded me, so gravely, made an unsettled feeling swirl about in my stomach.
“I wonder if maybe he likes men?” she guessed, but she didn’t seem certain about it.
“Kat?” a voice called out. It was Viet. In true form, she stood at the base of the stairs, wearing a dress with dramatic paint splatters all over it. She’d worn it in my honor, knowing she’d stand out like a sore thumb. I giggled and pulled Molly up with me.