The answer falls down on his shoulders like an anvil, crushing all the humanity out of him. Vera. He foolishly let her take it. God, why? Why had he? Because he didn’t think she’d make anything out of it, because it had been so long since he’d read it himself, he’d forgotten about the important details. Like how David ended up strangling Randall in the story. How could he have been so fucking stupid? And how could Vera betray him like that? He looked at her as a mother figure, and she goes and does this.
Slowly, hot fury replaces the gnawing fear. Oliver has no idea what’s going to happen to him now, but if he’s about to go to prison, he’s not going to go down without a fight.
First stop, Vera’s dinner party.
THIRTY-FOUR
JULIA
Julia has never once thrown a dinner party, let alone a black-tie event. Well, back in high school, she’d thrown a few parties, but high school parties are guaranteed to be fun as long as you’ve got cheap beer and music so loud that it permanently scars your eardrums. What Vera has insisted on throwing is something else altogether.
The three of them spend the entire day preparing for the event, Julia and Emma putting up decorations while Vera cooks up a storm in the kitchen. Since Vera has told her that she is planning on uncovering the truth behind Marshall’s death during the party, Julia isn’t sure what kind of vibe she should go for. In the end, she settles on black and white streamers and a handful of gray and black balloons. The balloons are more for Emma to play with. Julia isn’t sure about having balloons at a dinner party discussing the events of her husband’s death. But then again, she is no longer sure of anything.
She’s so nervous about seeing Oliver tonight. Vera tells her not to confront him about the manuscript, that Vera will bring it up when the time is right. But will Julia manage not to blurt it out the moment she sees him? She imagines herself flying at Oliver and hitting him, shouting, How could you? She’s not even really sure, technically, what she’s angry at him about. Surely there’s nothing wrong with having a crush on someone, especially when they were in their teens. But then she thinks of the manuscript and how he’s described the obsession with Aurelia and Randall, and she thinks again of how much time he’s spent with her and Emma ever since Marshall died, and the newfound knowledge that he’s been doing it with the hope of replacing Marshall makes her skin want to crawl right off her body.
Enough of that, Julia scolds herself as she dresses Emma in a black velvet dress. Emma beams at her reflection, turning this way and that to admire herself.
“Don’t tie up my hair, Mommy,” she says. “I’m too pretty already.”
Julia’s heart squeezes at Emma’s self-love. It breaks Julia a bit to see how much little kids love themselves, how natural it is for them to accept their bodies. She thinks again of how Marshall broke her self-confidence down so insidiously that she hadn’t known it was happening at all. I would kill to protect you, she thinks. I would kill to make sure you are never in a relationship like Mommy and Daddy’s.
The thought surges through her so fiercely that it stuns her, but it’s true, every bit of it. She would kill, and quite easily too, for Emma. She stands behind the little girl and puts her hands on her tiny shoulders and they both smile into the mirror. “Yeah, you’re right, baby. You don’t need anything else to make you pretty.”
* * *
• • •
The dinner party is a huge success. Well, as huge a success as it can be with just five people in attendance. Oliver seems to be running late, something Julia can’t decide whether to be relieved or disappointed about. She keeps glancing at the door, expecting him to show up, and going over her impassioned speech over and over. But aside from that, everything is going great.
As always, Vera’s cooking exceeds all expectations. And everyone looks amazing. Vera has done something to her hair to make it three times the size it usually is, and it looks like a little cloud has floated down and decided to settle atop her head. She’s wearing a jade pendant and a tweed jacket she has been telling everyone is a knockoff Chanel, though “you wouldn’t know it, would you? Would you?”
“Riki, you look so dashing!” Julia says when Riki arrives, and he really does. His hair has been very carefully messed up in a way that makes you want to run your fingers through it, and he’s wearing a suit that makes him look—there is no other word for it—dapper.
Sana arrives a minute later, looking very elegant and yet alluring in an LBD. “Sorry, my Uber ran late.”
“I told you I could pick you up,” Riki says, putting his arm around her waist and giving her a kiss.
“Nah, your office is in the opposite direction. But you can drive me home.”
Julia’s eyebrows have disappeared into her hairline. “Wait, are you two a thing?”
Sana giggles as she squeezes close to Riki. “Yes. Did Vera not tell you?”
“No! Vera!” Julia calls out. “You didn’t tell me these two were a thing!”
“Hm?” Vera looks up from the dining table, where she’s been busy the past five minutes rearranging the dishes to make sure the spread looks perfect. “Oh yes. Riki and Sana are things. Keep up, Julia. Emma knows, don’t you, Emma?”
Emma nods solemnly, eyeing Riki and Sana. “Are you going to kiss again?”
“Um . . .” Sana says. “Do you want us to?”
Emma shakes her head.
“Okay, then we won’t,” Riki says with a wink at Emma. “Wow, Vera, this looks amazing. You’ve really outdone yourself.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Vera says, grinning from ear to ear. “I just spend the whole day cooking, but is no big deal.”
For the next fifteen minutes, they chatter easily, sipping champagne and updating one another. Julia is excited to update them about her growing business; it’s been such a long time since she’s had anything remotely interesting to say about her life that isn’t about Emma. Sana and Riki seem genuinely happy for her until Vera says, “Oh, Julia, you can take Sana and Riki’s engagement photos!” upon which both Sana and Riki choke on their drinks while Julia laughs, then the conversation moves on to how Riki is planning on refurbishing Vera’s teahouse furniture.
Strangely, Vera doesn’t seem too enthused about this. “Oh, you don’t have to. It must be such a bother. Just take it slowly.”
“Vera doesn’t want to move back to her teahouse,” Sana teases. “She’s enjoying staying here too much.”
“Such rubbish!” Vera snaps, without any bite to it. “Of course not! I hate being a bother. You know that, don’t you?” she says to Julia.