Family Reunion by Nancy Thayer (ereader android .TXT) 📗

was exhilarated, and at the same time she felt guilty, sorry for what she’d done to Peter. For him it would be an insult and an embarrassment, but truly more a massive inconvenience than a heartbreak, and that eased her guilt.

As she crossed the state line and entered Massachusetts, the late spring light was slowly fading. She was leaving her past behind her, entering her future. She shook her hair back, a habit she had when beginning an exam. She sang along with Cyndi Lauper, “Girls Just Want to Have Fun,” and Eurythmics, “Sweet Dreams,” and Journey, “Don’t Stop Believin’.” She stopped for gas and coffee, and returned to her car full of caffeine and energy.

What would her mother think about this? Her mom had been so thrilled about Ari’s engagement to Peter. She would be angry—no, she would be furious. Ari’s father would hug her gently and tell her that it was good she made the decision now, and things would work out in the end. Whatever, her mother would be dramatic. For once Ari was ready.

Her family’s home was in Wellesley, on a street of towering trees and sweeping lawns. Lights were on in the upstairs room of the house. Both her mother’s and father’s cars were in the garage. Ari pulled into the driveway, turned off the ignition, and sat for a moment.

She had been moving, putting miles between herself and Peter, driving fast, screaming along to the radio. Now, as the car went quiet, she felt how she was quivering inside. She was exhausted.

The porch light came on. The front door opened, and her mother stood there in her velvet robe. She was tall and slender, like Ari, with curly brown hair and large blue eyes. Ari’s father, tall and smiling, stood behind his wife.

“Ari!” her mother called.

“Hi, Mom!” She got out of the car, slammed the door shut, and stretched. Her back hurt from sitting for so long. It felt good to walk, even for the few yards to the house.

Her mother was never the lovey-dovey kind of mom who hugged and cuddled and praised everything she did. In truth, her mother was a narcissist, and Ari braced herself, because her mother was going to flip out.

Ari hugged her mother. “Hey, pretty mama. You didn’t have to wait up.”

“Hi, Dad.” She hugged her tall, unemotional father.

“What’s going on?” Ari’s mother could be scarily psychic.

“Let’s go into the living room for a moment, okay?”

“What’s wrong?” her mother asked.

Ari led the way into the living room. She didn’t want to sit down so she stood by the fireplace, crossed her arms over her chest, and said, “I broke up with Peter. I told him I don’t love him and I don’t want to marry him.”

Her mother blinked. “The wedding’s off?”

She could always count on her mother to make her laugh. “Yeah, Mom. The wedding is toast. It’s not going to happen. I’ll probably never see Peter again in my life.”

Her father crossed the room and hugged Ari. He hugged stiffly, because it wasn’t in his nature to be emotional. He was so good at saving other people’s lives and so bad at living his own. But he did hug her. “Are you all right?”

“Dad, I’m more than all right. I feel free! I’m happy, I’m out of a kind of prison—”

“What a dreadful thing to say.” Her mother sank onto the sofa. “Sit down. Let’s talk about this.”

“Mom, I’ve been sitting in the car for seven hours. Sitting doesn’t appeal to me right now. Besides, there’s not much to talk about. I gave him back his ring.”

“It was such a beautiful ring,” her mother said mournfully. “Maybe you should have waited…”

“Mom, I tried for weeks to talk to him. I’m certain he sensed how I felt, but he wouldn’t listen to me until I forced him to.”

“He must be terribly sad,” Ari’s mother said. She stood up. “I’m going to call Barbara.”

Barbara was Peter’s mother. Again Ari laughed. “Mom, don’t be ridiculous. Barbara probably hates me right now. Plus, you can’t fix it.”

“Ooooh,” her mother moaned. “This is terrible.”

“We need brandy,” her father said. He poured three generous drinks and handed them out.

“Thanks, Dad,” Ari said. She took a sip and then a gulp. The fiery liquid burned all the way down, casting an amber haze of protection around her. “Come on, Mom. It’s not the end of the world.”

Her mother drank her brandy slowly, wiping tears from her face. “I thought Peter was such a nice man. He was madly in love with you. And he was so rich.”

Ari’s father snorted. “Alicia,” he said to his wife. “For God’s sake.”

“Mom, we’re rich, too,” Ari reminded her mother.

“Not like the Andersons are rich,” Alicia said. “You could have had everything, Arianna.”

“I have everything already,” Ari said quietly. She yawned and stretched. “I’m so tired. That’s a long drive. All I want to do is sleep.”

“Then that’s what you should do,” her father said. “Go on up. I’ll bring in your luggage and leave it outside your bedroom.”

“Thanks, Dad.” She kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry, Mom. It will all be fine.” She kissed her mother’s forehead.

She left the room, crossed the hall, and went up the stairs. Her room was in shadow, the only light coming in from a high moon. She didn’t bother to brush her teeth or take off her clothes, but fell onto her bed, pulled the comforter over her, and was asleep at once.

She woke the next day at noon. Her mouth tasted vile and she was desperate to pee. She stripped off her clothes in the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and took a long hot shower, washing her hair, closing her eyes to the steam and the sensation of becoming clean, becoming new. She found yoga pants and a long blue shirt in her closet and dressed. She wanted coffee. As she descended the stairs she heard voices. Uncle Cliff was here. She groaned. She prayed her mother hadn’t called him to share