Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
I try to imagine shaking my father’s hand in greeting and, honestly, I cannot.
I meet Ray Weston’s eyes, and they’re the same color as West’s, but whereas on West I’d describe them as butterscotch, honey, whiskey, on Ray the color lacks all warmth. They are brownish, khaki, muddy beige. His are the amber eyes of a predator.
And even though West greeted his mother first, and warmly, he presses his hand to my lower back and angles me to face his dad. “Anna, this is my father, Ray Weston.”
“Yes, hi,” I say, and extend my hand to him. “Nice to finally meet you.”
Ostensibly, this is the first time he’s meeting his daughter-in-law but he doesn’t even look at me when he briefly shakes my hand with a powerful squeeze that has me fighting a wince. “It’s been so long,” he says to his son. His smile is a sneer. “I’d forgotten what you look like. This wife of yours keeps you locked up.”
Houston, we have a problem(atic man).
“Chained, too,” I say, and wink. “But only when he asks for it.”
Abruptly, loudly, West rolls past this. “And my mother, Janet.”
Janet steps close, her hair in a perfect white-blond chignon, her collarbones so defined they’re like hangers holding up her delicate yellow sundress. I have to assume she has an extremely deft plastic surgeon, because she somehow looks like a twenty-five-year-old sixty-year-old.
“Anna, darling!” The woman I need to remember is my actual mother-in-law air-kisses both of my cheeks. “My goodness, in person your hair is so pink!”
As far as first-ever greetings go, it’s weird, but I don’t have time to ruminate on it because she leans into West’s other side, speaking in a low voice as if I can’t hear her from only a foot away: “Did I tell you a group of employees got together and wrote a letter to headquarters asking us to revise our corporate policy on piercings, hair color, and visible tattoos? It failed, of course. Too trashy for the stores. Unappetizing, you know?”
I feel my jaw slowly drop, imagine my mouth opening wider and wider until I become a pink-haired travel-grimed version of The Scream. This woman is savage.
Straightening, she adds, “But on you, Anna?” Her eyes do a sweep of my head. “Lovely.”
I smile. “Thank you, I think.” I’d briefly debated going back to a more respectable dark brown before I left, but ultimately decided against it. I barely feel like myself in this costume; the last thing I need is to have that feeling confirmed each time I look in the mirror.
She rolls on: “Have you two seen your bungalow yet?”
“We were just heading there to freshen up,” West says.
“We put you in number three. Right in the middle between Alex and Blaire’s two and ours. They’re adorable.” Her eyes wander to the top of my head again. “Though the sheets are white… I’ll ask Gede to switch them out for something dark in case the pink bleeds.”
West presses closer to my side and my throat goes tight when his hand slides down my forearm and wraps around mine. “I’m sure the resort can manage, Mom.”
“Had to book a trip to paradise to lure you out of that dusty office,” Ray says with a derisive lean to the words.
West’s reply is smooth and calm: “We wouldn’t miss Charlie’s wedding for anything in the world.”
“Missed my sixtieth birthday party, though, didn’t you?” Ray says.
If there was a camera nearby I’d be looking straight into it. I am flabbergasted.
Janet’s nervous laugh cuts the tension like a shard of glass through flesh. “Oh, it’s so nice to all be back together!” She reaches for West’s free hand. “Just wonderful!”
The two men are doing some sort of eye-contact wrestling match, and I realize we need to break this up before it escalates into something physical. I lean into West’s arm, pressing my cheek to his shoulder. “It’s great to see you both. I think I’m going to take my husband to the bungalow for a bit, if you know what I mean.”
“She means for showers,” he says quickly.
“Yes. Showers together,” I say, grinning. “After all these years, I still can’t get enough of him.”
“Okay. Well. That’s nice.” Janet pats his hand in hers. “Don’t forget about the cocktail party at six.” She leans in, kissing her son’s cheek again. “Can’t wait to get some time with you all to myself.”
She gives me a meaningful glance, and Ray doesn’t bother looking at either of us again as the two continue down the beach.
* * *
ONCE I’M SURE THEY’RE out of earshot, I exhale forty metric tons of held breath. “Jesus. That was intense.”
West drops my hand, and I don’t miss the way he wipes his palm on his pants. “That was nothing.”
“Awesome.” I jog to keep up with his power-walk pace.
A tall white bird watches us from a nearby tree. It has a slender, reddish beak, with a bright yellow top and its head tilts curiously as we pass, as if it’s wondering, What the hell is the hurry? Frankly, I agree.