Page 22 of The Light Year (Stardust Beach #6)
As Barbie stands there, unsure what to do with her hands, a waiter approaches and offers her a glass of champagne. She glances around and sees that everyone else in the room already has one, and that even the children have small glasses of juice in front of them. Barbie smiles stiffly.
“Barbara Jean,” Senator Mackey says, “you have brought us all so much joy, and if your mother were here today, I know she would be just as proud of you as I am.” He lifts his glass higher.
“And she would be absolutely pleased to hear that you are going to be heading up the day-to-day operations of a new foundation that we’re forming in her honor. ”
Barbie’s smile—already false and cautious—slips further.
“It is my pleasure to announce to you all right here, for the very first time, that the Mackey Family Foundation, in support of young people who wish to go into politics, will open its doors in 1967.”
The applause is more underwhelming this time, though Barbie hears a few people congratulating her, and she can’t help but nod as though this has been the plan all along.
A foundation to assist young politicians?
What is this? What is her father even saying?
Barbie can scarcely fathom where he’s come up with this, but she’s wholly unable to stop this train that apparently left the station while she was in the ladies’ room.
“To Barbara, our Head of Operations,” George says, lifting his glass in the air.
Everyone in the room follows suit. “Happy birthday, darling, and here’s to a successful foundation launch, and to our future generations of young politicians.
Hey, some of them might even be here in this room with us right now.
” Senator Mackey nods toward several children in the room, including his own grandkids.
People clap again as soon as they’ve taken their sip of champagne.
Barbie, though she knows taking a sip of her drink is customary following a toast, scans the room instead, making eye contact first with Todd, who looks confused, and then with Carrie, who looks duped.
Barbie sets her untouched champagne on the nearest table and leaves the room just as laugher and discussion erupt once again.
"Barbara." Barbie turns at the sound of her father's deep, stern voice. "These people are here to see you, and to celebrate you, and you're hiding away in another room. We need you out there."
Barbie turns around to face her dad, looking at him with an anger she's never felt before. When she'd left the dining room, she'd gone directly into a small, unused storage room next to the kitchen, and she stands there now, seething as she glares at him.
"What do you need me for--to keep using as a prop in the bizarre play that you and Ted are putting on?"
George Mackey has the courtesy to look confused--or perhaps maybe he actually is. Barbie is sure that he knows precisely what he's done, but there is a tiny chance that he believes everything is copasetic and that Barbie is just overreacting to some perceived slight.
Rather than answering right away, Senator Mackey paces around the small room, breathing audibly. When he pauses, he looks Barbie right in the eye as if he were addressing a politician on a major issue.
"Barbara," he says, standing still and putting one hand into his pocket. "You just don't understand."
"Understand what?"
Senator Mackey runs a hand over his face, measuring his words. "You don't understand finance. Strategy. Optics. This family runs on politics and on the way the world perceives us, and anything we can do to orchestrate that perception in our favor is incredibly important."
"Not to me," she says. "Not when it comes to this. That's my money--money that Mom left for me--and I know what I want to do with it."
"And you're doing it!" Senator Mackey says, flinging the hand he'd run over his face and indicating the big, wide world outside of the tiny storeroom. "You're going to be in charge of the daily operations of a major foundation, and it's going to help people to reach their goals and dreams.”
Barbie stares at him, slack-jawed. “This is not at all what I wanted. I had plans to funnel donations and assistance to people in the community who needed it, not to line the pockets of future politicians, Dad.”
Senator Mackey is about to respond when the door flies open. Ted is standing there, looking back and forth between his father and sister.
“We need you out there, Barbie,” Ted says, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. As always, he comes across to Barbie as completely out of touch with what’s going on around him. How a man as obtuse as her brother has ended up with a wife and two lovely daughters is beyond Barbie’s comprehension.
“What do you need me for, Teddy?” she asks, using his childhood nickname, which she knows he doesn’t like.
Ted bristles, as Barbie had assumed he would. “Photo op,” he says flatly.
Barbie looks at her father in disbelief. “A photo op? What does that even mean? You hired a photographer?”
Senator Mackey presses his lips together and then sighs. “The Orlando Sentinel is here.”
“No way,” Barbie says, folding her arms across her chest. “Absolutely not. I’m not turning a lovely event that my husband planned for me into some sort of circus sideshow for your political aspirations.” She looks at her brother with venomous eyes.
“Actually,” Ted says, looking at their father sheepishly. “Dad and I planned and paid for the party.”
“Theodore,” George says, shooting him a look.
Barbie’s eyes dance back and forth between her dad and brother. “Are you serious? This party isn’t Todd’s doing?”
George, being a far superior and more experienced politician than his son, makes to say something that will smooth things over, but Barbie isn’t having it.
“No,” she says, pushing between her dad and brother, who are taking up a fair amount of space in the tiny room. “I’m leaving.”
Before they can stop her, Barbie is out the door and down the hallway, ready to stop and whisper to Todd that she wants to leave.
But it’s already too late to escape: Barbie’s dad and brother have followed her, and they’re flanking her from behind, creating an image that is, unbeknownst to her, completely camera-ready.
Flashbulbs pop as they enter, and Barbie blinks rapidly, not expecting it.
She very nearly holds up a hand in front of her face, but the minute she catches Todd’s eye and sees that he’s smiling at her, she lets the hand fall.
He’s been feeling better lately, and the doctor is so positive about his recovery from his bout with vestibular dysfunction that Barbie doesn’t want to be a wet blanket here in front of all their friends.
Her boys are sitting with their older cousins, and, on one side of the room, all of Barbie’s friends are mingling and sipping champagne.
Without even realizing she’s doing it, she relents.
There is no smile on her face as the flashbulbs pop, but when her father and brother step up on either side of her and take her elbows, she lets it happen.
Just for tonight, she’s going to swallow her pride and let the people around her be happy. But she’s not happy, and this troubles Barbie. It’s her party—her thirtieth birthday—and it’s all she can do not to burst into tears.
As a waiter walks by, she takes another flute of champagne from his tray and downs it in one go. She’ll get through this night, and she’ll hold her head up high.
But this battle is not over yet. In fact, it’s only just begun.