“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Laura,” was all Scarlett could think of to say.
Laura’s eyes narrowed, her mouth pinched up into a tight, disapproving line. “Forgive me if I can’t say the same about you,” she all but hissed. “I suppose I need to thank you for what you did for my daughter, but that’s as far as it goes.”
Scarlett forced herself not to flinch at the other woman’s venomous tone and merely shrugged in response. “No need to thank me. I didn’t do it for you, after all.”
She turned then to face the one remaining occupant of the room she had yet to be introduced to. But there was no need for anyone to tell her that this bright-eyed, smiling teenager was her half-sister. In fact, anyone looking at the two females would know immediately that they were closely related - both with big blue eyes, creamy skin, and those distinctive red-gold curls. The younger girl wore skinny black jeans, a V-necked sweater in a vibrant shade of violet, and black ballet flats. Scarlett wondered idly if the girl’s mother and grandmother approved of her more casual attire this evening.
Before they could be formally introduced, Hannah launched herself at Scarlett, throwing her skinny arms around Scarlett’s neck and hugging her close.
“Omigod, I am so happy to meet you!” squealed Hannah. “I couldn’t believe it when Daddy told me about you, but I think somehow deep down I knew that the bone marrow donor had to be a family member. My doctors told me that it’s rare when a transfer from an unrelated donor is as successful as mine was, so I just had this feeling, you know? And - wow. You’re so pretty. I love your name, so fitting the red hair, you know? We - we kind of look alike, don’t we?”
Scarlett grinned at the younger girl, studying Hannah’s glowing face as they took a step back from each other. “More than kind of,” she agreed. “I’d say you look a lot like I did at your age but when I was fourteen I cut all my curls off, spiked up whatever hair I had left, and dyed it blue. And then hot pink. And finally black. It just grew back curlier and redder than ever, though.”
Hannah giggled gleefully, her blue eyes sparkling in a shared sense of mischief. “So did mine! Oh, not that I cut or dyed it. I mean when it all fell out from the chemo. It’s not as long as yours is but otherwise we have almost the same hair.”
Scarlett nodded, reaching out to tease one of her sister’s curls. “Yours is a little lighter than mine, more gold than red, but you can definitely tell we got it from the same source.”
“My grandmother,” confirmed Hannah. “Uh, I guess that would be our grandmother. I’ve seen pictures from when she was younger and there’s no mistake.”
Scarlett happened to glance in Laura’s direction, noticing the crestfallen expression on her face, the shimmer of tears in her eyes, and guessed that Hannah’s unmistakable resemblance to her paternal grandmother was something of a sore spot. For a woman who doted on her child as much as Laura did Hannah, it probably felt like a knife to the heart to realize that child looked nothing like you.
Hannah greeted Jackson after that, hugging him with great enthusiasm, and giggling anew when he ruffled her curls.
“Hey, kiddo,” he teased. “You look great. I understand your most recent check-up was nothing but good news.”
Hannah nodded. “Real good news. Everything’s progressing along as expected, and I’m fully in remission now. Except,” she added with a grimace, “I still can’t go back to regular school this year. Too high a risk of infection, they say. So I won’t be back to in person classes until the fall.”
“But the doctors did say you could socialize with small groups of friends so long as you’re all careful,” interjected Candace. “That’s some good news, darling.”
Hannah nodded. “Yeah, I know. But not the same thing as being at school full time. Or playing soccer or going to school dances or basketball games. All the fun stuff kids my age should be doing.” She turned back to Scarlett. “You know what I mean, right?”
“More or less, yeah,” replied Scarlett quietly, figuring that this sure as hell wasn’t the time or place to blurt out the fact that she’d spent the first year or so of high school trying not to get suspended for fighting or cutting classes or keeping a switchblade in her locker. Laura was already giving her the evil eye, Barton had what looked like a permanent scowl affixed to his features, while Neil was basically ignoring her and probably wishing she would just disappear. Candace at least was doing her best to act the part of gracious hostess, and Jackson seemed on edge, as though waiting for the other shoe to fall at any moment. Scarlett wasn’t going to make an already tense evening even worse by shocking everyone with tales from her hardscrabble life.
She did, however, accept Barton’s offer of a drink, feeling in dire need of some liquid courage. She still wasn’t much of a drinker, usually limiting herself to a glass or two of wine when she and Jackson ate dinner at her apartment, or maybe ordering a margarita or other fruity cocktail when they dined out. But she always felt in total control, could stop when she felt herself getting a little tipsy, and was relieved that in her case alcoholism didn’t appear to run in the family.
This evening, however, she was going to have to dig deep, she acknowledged, forcing herself to take merely a ladylike sip of the chardonnay Barton had handed to her rather than gulping down half the glass at once as she longed to. She would need to keep her wits sharp, she realized, given that it wasn’t just Barton she’d have to parry with tonight. Too much booze would only dull her senses, make her feel too relaxed. And with this roomful of sharks - Barton, Candace, Neil, and Laura - she would have to be on her guard all night long to avoid being eaten alive.
The cocktail hour was blissfully brief, barely thirty minutes by Scarlett’s calculation, and then Candace was urging them all to take their seats in the dining room.
“Holy shit!” she whispered under her breath as Jackson escorted her into the room that was dominated with a table big enough to hold twenty or more people.
Jackson winked, then placed an index finger warningly over his lips. “Shh,” he cautioned. “But, yeah, it’s pretty over the top, even for my parents.”
The dining room had a high, domed ceiling, with another of those somewhat gaudy crystal chandeliers suspended from the center point. The walls were papered in a gold and cream stripe, the plush carpet a coordinating shade of cream. The big table had been set with pristine cream and gold linens, and each place setting held an assortment of dishes, glasses, and flatware. She gulped at that sight, just hoping she knew the right utensils to pick up, reminding herself to glance over at Jackson if she got confused.
There was a fabulous floral arrangement of white and gold flowers - lilies, roses, chrysanthemums, daisies - resting in the middle of the table. Scarlett didn’t even want to guess at how much something that lavish had cost, but would have been willing to bet the amount had equaled her monthly share of the rent at her previous residence.
Thankfully Candace had seated her next to Jackson, and at the furthest possible distance from both Barton and Laura. Scarlett ignored the openly hostile glances Laura kept directing her way, while trying not to notice how easy it seemed for Neil to ignore her completely. Candace continued to play the role of gracious hostess, as though bound and determined that no amount of hostility or conflict was going to interfere with her plans for an elegant, civilized dinner. To her credit, she treated Scarlett warmly, asking her questions and keeping her engaged in the conversation. Jackson did more than his fair share of keeping things light, while Hannah was a veritable chatterbox. Barton, who Scarlett guessed was used to dominating any conversation and keeping the focus on himself, merely grunted a reply every so often and only when prompted to do so by his wife. Neil was mostly silent, while Laura said nothing, picking at her food but draining her wine glass numerous times.