“Thank you all for coming,” Karen says, approaching Trish, since it’s just understood Hardin’s not one for introductions. “Hello, Trish, I’m Karen,” she says and extends her hand. “It’s so nice to get a chance to meet you. I really appreciate you coming.” Karen appears completely calm, but I’ve gotten to know her well enough to know that’s not really the case.
“Hi, Karen, it’s nice to meet you, too,” Trish says and shakes her hand.
Just then Ken enters the room and, doing a double take when he sees us, stops dead in his tracks and stares at his ex-wife. I lean into Hardin and hope that Landon told Ken we were coming.
“Hello, Ken,” Trish says, her voice sounding stronger than it’s been all morning.
“Trish . . . wow . . . hello,” he stammers.
Trish, who I’m guessing is pleased by his reaction, nods her head once and says, “You look . . . different.”
I’ve tried to imagine what Ken looked like back then—eyes likely bloodshot from liquor, forehead sweaty, face pale—but I can’t seem to.
“Yeah . . . so do you,” he says.
The awkward tension is making me dizzy, so I’m beyond relieved when Karen suddenly exclaims, “Landon!” and he joins us. Karen’s clearly relieved to see the apple of her eye right now, and he looks the part, dressed in blue slacks and a white dress shirt with a black tie.
“You look beautiful.” He compliments me and pulls me in for a hug.
Hardin’s grip on my hand tightens, but I manage to pull my hand free and hug Landon back. “You look very nice yourself, Landon,” I say.
Hardin hooks his arm around my waist and pulls me back over to him, closer than before. Landon rolls his eyes at Hardin, then turns to Trish. “Hello, ma’am, I’m Landon, Karen’s son. It’s great to finally meet you.”
“Oh, please don’t call me ma’am.” Trish laughs. “But it’s very nice to meet you, too. Tessa has told me a lot about you.”
He smiles. “All good things, I hope.”
“Mostly,” she teases.
Landon’s charm seems to ease some of the tension in the room, and Karen pipes up, “Well, you all are just in time. The goose is ready to be served in just a couple of minutes!”
Ken leads us to the dining room while Karen disappears into the kitchen. I’m not at all surprised to find the table perfectly set with their best china, polished silverware, and elegant wooden napkin rings. Platters of neatly arranged food cover the table. The main goose dish is surrounded by thick slices of oranges. A bundle of red berries rests atop the body. It’s so elegantly arranged, and the smell makes my mouth water. A plate of roasted potatoes is directly in front of me. The scent of garlic and rosemary fills the air, and I admire the rest of the table. A large centerpiece full of flowers and ornaments sits in the middle, and each decoration echoes the same orange-and-berry theme. Karen is always an amazing host.
“Would anyone like a drink? I have some delicious red wine from the cellar,” she says. Her cheeks flush red as she realizes what she just asked. Alcohol is definitely a sensitive subject with this crowd.
Trish smiles. “I would, actually.”
Karen disappears, and we’re so silent that when she pops the cork in the kitchen, it’s a loud sound that feels like it bounces off the walls around us. When she returns with an open bottle, I consider asking for a glass to calm the uneasy feeling in my stomach, but then decide against it. The hostess returned, each of us takes a seat—Ken at the head of the table, Karen, Landon, and Trish on one side of him, Hardin and I on the other. After some “oohs” and “aahs” at the presentation, no one says a word as they fill their plates with food.
After we’ve all had a few bites, Landon makes eye contact with me, and I can tell he’s debating whether or not to speak. I give him a small nod; I don’t want to have to break the silence. I take a bite of goose, and Hardin puts his hand on my thigh.
Landon wipes his mouth with his napkin and turns to Trish. “So what do you think of America so far, Mrs. Daniels? Is this your first time here?”
She nods a couple of times. “Indeed, it is my first time here. I like it. I wouldn’t want to live here, but I do like it. Are you planning on staying in Washington when you finish university?” She looks at Ken as if she was asking him instead of Landon.
“I’m not sure yet; my girlfriend is moving to New York next month, so it will depend on what she wants to do.”
I selfishly hope he doesn’t move out there anytime soon.
“Well, I’ll be glad when Hardin finishes, so he can move back home,” Trish says, and I drop my fork onto my plate.
All eyes focus on me and I smile apologetically before picking the utensil back up.
“You’re moving back to England after you graduate?” Landon asks Hardin.
“Yeah, of course I am,” Hardin answers rudely.
“Oh,” Landon says, looking directly at me. Hardin and I haven’t discussed any plans after college, but him going back to England never once crossed my mind. We will need to discuss this later, not in front of everyone.
“And you . . . how do you like America, Ken? Are you planning to live here permanently?” Trish asks him.
“Yes, I love it here. I’ll be staying most definitely,” he answers.
Trish smiles and takes a slow sip of her wine. “You always hated America.”
“Yes . . . I did,” he replies and half smiles back at her.