Chapter 79

When I arrive to my parents’ house at 7pm on the dot, Davis opens the door, with time wearing a look of weariness.

“This time you parents and Miss Thea are waiting in the dining room,” he tells me.

Thea is here? Maybe my suspicions are correct.

But already sitting in the dining room?

I check my watch. It says 7, and matches the clock that is up on the wall.

“Am I late?” I ask him.

“They asked for dinner to be served directly at 7,” Davis says. “Would you like me to show you the way?”

“I can find it,” I say. “Thanks, though.”

I leave my purse and jacket with Davis and then hurry to the dining room.

Father sits at his usual spot at the head of the table. Mom is beside him with Thea opposite her. Only the salad has been served thus far, though no one seems to be eating it. Only Thea is picking at it with her fork.

They all look up when I enter.

“This isn’t necessary, mother,” Thea says, dropping her fork down onto the table with a clank. “You didn’t have to bring her here.”

“Esther is a part of this family,” Father says, silencing Thea.

Mother waves me closer. “Sit in this chair beside me, Esther.”

I feel like I’m walking into a minefield, but I still step forward. There’s no turning back from a Owens family dinner, especially an emergency one.

Following Mother’s instruction, I take the open seat beside her. One of the servants immediately brings in a salad for me. I thank the servant but don’t bother lifting my fork. Instead, I look at my parents and Thea, who seems deeply uncomfortable with my presence.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Your sister has been careless,” Father says, “And has put our good name at risk.”

“It’s not like that, Father,” Thea starts but a sharp look from him quiets her. Apparently, even being the favorite, she has reached the limit of father’s patience.

“You deny what’s in the letter, then?” Father says. “You are willing to tell me that is not you in those horrid photos?”

“What letter?” I ask.

Father reaches into his jacket and retrieves a white envelope from inside. It looks exactly like the one that Garnar received, even down to the neat cursive handwriting on the front. Though this one said Mr. Preston H. Owens, rather than Garnar’s name.

“This arrived anonymously with the mail,” Father says. “Complete with pictures as proof. I will protect you from seeing the actually photos Esther, but you can trust me they are graphic and damning.”

“Garnar is not the only man Thea has been intimate with,” Mother says. “In fact, she has been seeing several men, prominent or otherwise, all through the town.” Disgust tarnishes my mother’s words, twisting them. “How could you, Thea?”

“I was bored, Mother,” Thea says. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“The big deal,” Father says, throwing the letter down on the table, “Is that you are now pregnant, and without any clue which of these men are the father!”

Rarely does my father raise his voice, especially at Thea. Thea’s eyes go wide as saucers. A moment later, the waterworks start, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

“How could you speak to me so cruelly?” she sobs, covering her face with her napkin.

“You are excused from dinner, Thea, until you can collect yourself,” Mother says.

Thea immediately stands and exits the room with a dramatic sob.

When she is gone and silence returns to the dining room, father finally lifts his fork and starts eating his salad. Mother does the same.

Unsure, but following their lead, I pick up my own fork to eat as well. When we all reach the bottom of our plates, Father turns his attention onto me and asks, “Tell me about this successful article of yours, Esther.”

So he did get my voicemail. Even if he didn’t reply then, to have him asking now feels like it’s mending something broken inside of me.

They haven’t apologized for their treatment of me, and likely won’t, but this question and this attention is a welcome back to the fold.

I explain to him at once, how Kimberly proposed the base idea for the article, but it was my diligence chasing down leads that helped uncover the full truth. I told them how newspapers and news networks across the country are picking up my story, and how there’s now heavy pressure on the mayor to fix the problem.

Mother and Father listen, both of their attentions fully on me, even as the servants reappear and take away the salad plates. A moment later they return with the main meal: chicken Florentine. It looks delicious and makes my mouth water, but I finish my story first.

In fact, everyone waits for me to finish.

“Even Mr. Harbinger has praised me for this success,” I say, ending my story.

“Very good,” Father says. Now he lifts his fork and knife.

Mother touches my shoulder. “It’s so nice you’re doing so well there.” She gives me a soft, motherly smile that warms me, fully mending any lingering hurt within me.

I feel like part of the family again, though I regret its Thea’s humiliation that allowed space for me once again. I wish she could be here too, eager to hear about my work.

I’m not sure when this divide formed between us. Maybe it’s always been there. It feels like such a tragedy.

For the rest of dinner, Mother and Father ask me questions about work, and I happily answer them. After dinner, I excuse myself to head toward the bathroom.

Across the hall is Thea’s room. Her door bursts open as I’m about to walk into the bathroom.

“You are enjoying tonight, aren’t you?” Thea says. “Rubbing in my apparent disgrace like the rest of the family. Like having boyfriends is a crime.”

“I think it’s more a matter of not knowing who the baby’s father is –”

“Shut up,” she snaps. “The baby is Garnar’s, despite what that vile letter says.”

“Are you so sure?” I ask her.

She hesitates for a moment before steeling her resolve, hardening her face.

“Of course I’m sure,” she says. “And if you tell him one word otherwise…”

“You haven’t spoken to Garnar yet this evening, I take it,” I say.

“He knows I’m with my parents right now,” Thea says. Her eyes narrow. “Why?”

“You just might want to talk to him,” I say. “He seemed very angry earlier.”

“Why would he be angry?”

“It seems that he too has gotten a letter,” I say. “Father didn’t show me his, but it sure looked and sounded the same to the one Garnar received.”

Thea’s entire face goes pale. She disappears into her room, leaving her door open.

Shrugging, I turn into the bathroom. When I finish and leave, I can hear Thea in her room, likely with her phone to her ear.

“Damn it, Garnar. Answer! Why won’t you answer?”

I pretend not to notice and return to the sitting room where my parents have moved to. Just as I’m about to sit down, Thea bursts through the room, her jacket over one arm and her purse on the other.

“Where are you going?” Mother asks, standing.

Thea only stops to say one word on her way to the door. “Out.”