“It hit the New York Times bestseller list, on today of all days. You know what that means, Graham?” Rebecca asked, spreading a new tablecloth on the dining room table.
“It means another reason for Dad to get drunk and show off his house to people,” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.
She snickered and grabbed the fancy table runner, handed him one end, and took the other in her hands. “It won’t be that bad this year. He hasn’t been drinking as much lately.”
Poor, sweet, naïve Rebecca, Graham thought to himself. She must’ve been blind to the whisky bottles that sat in his father’s desk drawer.
As he helped her set the dinner table for the sixteen guests coming over in two hours, his eyes traveled across the room to her. She’d been living with him and his father for two years now, and he’d never known he could be so happy. When his father was angry, Graham had Rebecca’s smile to fall back on. She was the flash of light during the dark thunderstorms.
Plus, every year, he had a birthday cake.
She looked beautiful that night in her fancy New Year’s Eve dress. When she moved, the gold dress traveled with her, slightly dragging on the floor behind her. She wore high-heeled shoes that stretched out her small body, and still she seemed so tiny.
“You look pretty,” Graham told her, making her look up and smile.
“Thank you, Graham. You look quite handsome yourself.”
He smiled back, because she always made him smile.
“Do you think any kids are gonna come tonight?” he asked. He hated how the parties always had grown-ups and never any kids.
“I don’t think so,” she told him. “But maybe tomorrow I can take you to the YMCA to hang out with some of your friends.”
That made Graham happy. His father was always too busy to take him places, but Rebecca always made time.
Rebecca glanced at the fancy watch on her hand, one his father had given her after one of their many fights. “Do you think he’s still working?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He nodded. “Uh-huh.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Should I interrupt?”
He shook his head. “Nuh-huh.”
Rebecca crossed the room, still glancing at her watch. “He’ll be mad if he’s late. I’ll go check.” She walked toward his office, and it was only seconds before Graham heard the shouting.
“I’m working! This next book isn’t going to write itself, Rebecca!” Kent hollered right before Rebecca came hurrying back int
o the dining room, visibly shaken, her lips now twisted in a frown.
She smiled at Graham and shrugged. “You know how he is on deadlines,” she said, making up excuses.
Graham nodded. He knew better than most.
His father was nothing more than a monster, especially when he was behind on his word count.
Later that night, right before the guests began arriving, Kent changed into his brand-name suit just in time. “Why didn’t you get me earlier?” he shouted to Rebecca as she set up appetizers in the living room. “I would’ve been late if I hadn’t seen the time because I had to use the bathroom.”
Graham turned his back to his father and rolled his eyes. He always had to turn his back to mock his father, otherwise his father’s backhand would mock him right back.
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca replied, not wanting to dig any deeper and upset Kent. It was New Year’s Eve, one of her favorite holidays, and she refused to get into an argument.
Kent huffed and puffed, straightening his tie. “You should change,” he told Rebecca. “Your outfit is too revealing, and the last thing I need is for my friends to think my wife is a floozy.” His voice was short, and he didn’t even look at Rebecca as he spat out the words.
How did he miss it? Graham thought to himself. How did his father not notice how beautiful Rebecca looked?
“I think you look beautiful,” Graham voiced.
Kent cocked an eyebrow and looked over at his son. “No one asked you for your thoughts.”