3

“Where is he? I told him to be here for six, and it’s twenty past! He always has to defy everything we ask of him.” My mom snaps, slamming her fork down on the table by her plate, making everything rattle despite being solid oak and everyone sits tensely as her voice echoes around the giant dining room. “I am so sick of this.”

My mum's shoulder-length blonde highlighted hair falls gracefully over her right eye, so she flicks it back with manicured nails. She still looks like a woman in her young thirties and not her mid-forties. Barely has a  wrinkle or blemish on her delicate face. Her cheekbones are rosier than normal, even on her sallow skin, and I watch my mom's beauty and elegance with awe, impressed by it even when she’s pissed off.

Elisa withdraws further into her hair, so her fork seems to be delivering food into a veil where food disappears, and my stepfather sighs at the head of the table and checks his watch for the fifth time. It’s only the four of us as we wait for Dane, supposed to be a cozy small celebration, yet this room suddenly feels crazily claustrophobic even though our table seats eight.

“Mom…. ignore it and eat. It’s Bryan’s birthday dinner. Dane will show up. You know he will…. late because it’s what he does, but he will still come home.” I try to soothe her with soft words and some logic, but we all know Dane will show up when he feels like it, regardless of the date. “He does this to annoy you, and it’s working.” Anytime she gives him a set time, he ignores it. I sigh and push my food around, hating that he has ruined yet another family meal.

“The food is really good, Mrs. Masterson. You should eat it before it gets cold.” Elise pipes up shyly, her sweet voice coming out from the hunched-up figure as she aids in smoothing my mom’s ruffled feathers. She’s been an extension of our family for years, as she lives two houses away and practically grew up with me since I moved in here. My mom loves having her around and always invites her to family-related events. I think she felt Elisa was a sibling I needed because I was an only child, and Dane hated coming here for visitation, so he would dodge it.

“Honey. It’s fine. He’ll show up when he’s hungry, and I told you I didn’t need anything special today. I’m happy to spend time with my family at any time. It’s just another year of reminding me I am old.” My stepfather gives mom a tight smile, trying for light-hearted warmth, but her grip on her water glass tightens, and she sits up straight, tenser.

Bryan is nothing like his son. He’s handsome in that mature guy kind of a way and fit because my mom is a stickler for health. He compliments my mom with their good looks – the typical Florida, wealthy, good-looking couple.

Where Dane is tanned, with pale eyes and black hair, Bryan is pale naturally, a little freckled in places with light brown hair and smiley hazel eyes. Dane’s all angles and smoldering gazes, while Bryan's happy face always seems approachable. The only thing Dane seemed to get from his DNA was their height. Tall and stocky as though they were meant for the sports field.

She furrows her already frowning brow further. Her happy mood of a half hour ago has been dying by the second.

“I’m so tired of dealing with this. Anything I say, he ignores. Anything I do, he throws back in my face…. what am I supposed to do with him?” She exhales heavily, eyes misting over as though this is the worst stress of her life, and sometimes I don’t get why she tries so hard. She wouldn't always be at his throat if she let him be and didn’t demand anything. She can’t change him. Since he moved in, it’s like she tries so hard to be his mother, whereas before, she didn’t give him the time of day.

“Stop expecting…. It only sets you up for disappointment. You know how he feels.” Bryan reaches out his hand and covers the one beside my mother’s discarded fork, squeezing her, and I try to focus on my food. The steak is getting cold as I am picking at it, but I have no appetite thanks to the tension of the atmosphere once again caused by Dane.

There’s a clatter out in the main hall that sounds like the front door swinging shut, and then minor scuffing and the squeak of boots on the marble floor. Low voices follow it, and I stiffen, knowing what’s coming. It sounds like Dane brought Tyler with him, and my mom is already in the worst mood over his being late. Even though she asked Elisa, she never asked any of Dane’s friends. She never does.

“Listen, honey… he’s here. Relax, eat. Let’s enjoy this. Let it go and have a nice dinner for once.” Bryan lets her go and sits back to pick up his cutlery again, but my mother does not move. I catch her in the corner of my eye, pushing her shoulders back and raising her chin, and I inwardly deflate. Mom is moving into battle mode, and I know she will go off at him when he comes in here.

“Sorry, we’re late, Mr. and Mrs. Masterson… we had a delay with school things,” Tyler mumbles, coming in first, looking sheepish and giving a quick head bow in apology as he eyes up the table and tries to figure out where to sit. He’s still in the uniform of earlier and looks more wrinkled than when we left school a couple of hours ago.  God knows where they have been or what they have been doing.

School things, my ass.

Seeing only one place set, he turns to the side and gives Dane a glaring look as he strolls in casually beside him. It looks like Dane told him he was invited when my mother never agreed. Dane shrugs back and smirks, that wicked gleam in his eye that he knows this will be something else to piss my mom off.

“Yeah, soz…. we had stuff going on. I’m starving. Smells good.” Dane walks up, eyes up the vacant seat next to me that sits between his father and me and the place setting clearly for him, then at Elisa beside my mother on the opposite side. He seems to do a mental calculation as to where he should put Tyler.

“Monique, can you set another place, please,” Bryan calls out to the housekeeper, who is never far from earshot, and motions towards Tyler with a polite finger wave. Gesturing towards the seat facing Elisa, right beside me on the other side. “The more, the merrier. Nice to see you again, Tyler.”

Bryan has always been a polite, calm peacekeeper who never gets riled at anything his son does. Not the tattoos, the piercings, the motorbike… the times he has had to bail him out of the sheriff's office, or the number of times he’s scraped his drunk ass off the driveway at four am. Just thinking about it causes a ball of rage in my lower stomach; in return, all he gets is a bad attitude and hate for something that happened ten years ago.

He was not the only kid who had their family ripped apart.

Dane ushers Tyler to the seat before sauntering on past behind me and hauls out the chair to plank himself heavily down. He exudes this overly confident and casual vibe no matter what he’s doing, and that alone makes me grit my teeth. Nothing ever gets through that outer ‘who cares’ attitude. He pulls his glass towards him, takes a sip, and then peruses the table with a lazy glance, seemingly unimpressed with us all.