by Debbie Civil
Chapter 20
Carmen
No matter how nice Peter is, he can’t hide the fact that he has no desire to go out to dinner with me. Well, let me rephrase that. He doesn’t want to go out, period. He’s pulling out of the driveway and keeps a careful eye on his surroundings. It’s like he expects camera’s to start taking pictures of him. Unless someone recognizes us and mentions the sighting on twitter, we’re fine. So close to the start of Aunt Nina’s trial, the media is in a frenzy. Everyone wants to know what’s going to happen to the housewife and soccer mom that orchestrated an appalling crime. Sometimes, I can’t help but think that Nina and Eric Philips are just bad apples. After all, their eldest daughter Amber Philips shot someone a long time ago. She’s currently serving time in prison, and no one talks about her. It’s as if Amber has been erased from the family. Is that going to happen to Aunt Kate when her crime is revealed to the public? Just being in the car with Peter is ratcheting up the guilt that I feel for not saying anything. To try to dispel the feeling, I shift in my seat. Peter drives a Buick and the seats are nice and soft. It’s odd that he’s chosen such a car when he could be driving a Lincoln if he really wants to.
“Are you all right?” Peter asks as he points the car toward a diner down the street. It’s doubtful that any of those patrons will tell anyone about our sighting. If the media descends, they will be blocked in.
“Why do you drive a Buick?” I ask. Peter grins at me.
“Because it’s unassuming. I imagine that if I drove around in a Mercedes that everyone would notice me. I don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to myself,” he explains.
“That explains why Chelsea doesn’t drive the convertible anymore,” I comment. Peter nods.
“After the trial is over with, she’ll drive that car again.”
“I’m sorry my Dad forced you to take me out to dinner,” I say. I’m tired of being everyone’s pawn. Peter pulls into the nearly full parking lot of the diner and slides his keys out of the ignition. When the engine stops running, neither of us moves.
“I don’t mind spending time with you, Carmen. In fact, you’re one of my favorite in laws,” he tells me with a wink and my heart warms. Most of my family aren’t pleased with Chelsea’s choice of husband, but I disagree. Peter is so kind, giving, and nurturing. He will make a good father someday and will always have his family’s best interest at heart. When I look at him, I know that he will makes sacrifices to keep Chelsea happy. To be honest, it would be nice to have a guy like him.
“Thanks, I feel the same about you,” I respond and he smiles before hopping out of the car. I take a deep breath, ignore the fact that I’m not dressed to impress and follow suit.
The place is more homely than extravagant. The walls are painted an off-white color, and the walls are covered with pictures of different kinds of flowers. I smile at the photograph of a vase of daffodils. We are, off course, given a table in the back. Chelsea and Kailey are already waiting for us. Seeing my two closest friends makes happiness fill me. I slide into the booth beside Jake’s sister, and she shoots me a sympathetic smile. That isn’t good. Nothing ever rattles the chipper girl who’s almost always in her own world. I can’t take any more bad news. These last two days have been so trying. Peter gives Chelsea a gentle kiss on the cheek before he slides in next to her. That guy is the definition of respectful. Had that been Eli and Nathan, they would have French kissed until the cows came home. They are really bad with the PDA thing.
“So, how was your day?” he asks his wife. Chelsea sighs.
“Tiresome. Justin wants to improve his marketing program, so he had me sit in on interviews all day,” Chelsea groans. Peter, who works from home often, nods.
“That’s hectic. Kailey, what about you?” Before she can say a word, an idea clicks into place.
“Chelsea, Kailey writes novels,” I announce, and the couple in front of me perk up. The author beside me squeezes my arm as which is an unfortunate nervous habit. I try not to wince.
“What kind of books do you write?” Peter inquires.
“Jake calls them impossible romances. Basically, they are mostly books about the complete opposites falling in love,” Kailey explains as a waitress walks over to the table. She’s in her mid-forties with strands of gray in her dark brown hair. Everything about her sunny smile screams friendly.
“Welcome to Sunshine Diner. I’m Beth, I’ll be taking care of you.”
“Who took all of those pictures?” I ask the woman. She smiles brightly and is about to answer when Tia waltzes over to our table, her face filled with concern. She slides into the booth beside me and wraps a thin arm around my shoulders. I’m jealous of her outfit. She wears a pink tank top with rhinestones, skinny jeans, and sandals with rhinestones on them. Her black hair is flowing down her back, and she’s wearing her favorite perfume, Glow by Jennifer Lopez. Beth seems pleased to have a newcomer.
“My son Austen took all of these pictures. He’s a professional photographer,” the woman boasts. Tia stares at the different pictures of plants that cover the walls and grins.
“I like those roses, they’re pretty,” she informs us. I glance at the bouquet of red roses and think that they are pretty, but I’m more of a daffodil kind of girl.
“I’ll be sure to tell him that. Can I start you guys off with anything to drink?”
“I want a water with lemon slices,” Tia tells the waitress. I order a root beer and an extra cup of ice. I like my beverage very cold. When everyone else finishes ordering, the woman smiles at us and walks away.
“What’s good here?” I ask. Chelsea grins.
“There bacon cheeseburger is delicious!” Chelsea exclaims with way too much enthusiasm. When I think of burgers, they remind me of the steak burgers that Jake and I had at Murphy’s steak house. Ouch, that memory really hurts.
“How is there buffalo chicken salad?” Kailey asks, as she flips through a menu.
“I’ve had it once. It actually isn’t bad,” Tia explains. Everyone seems elated by the fact that they get to eat, but I’m lost, like I always am. Sometimes I think that I spy on others because it gives me something to do. Since that incident in the laundry room, I hadn’t snooped. Then again, no one really interests me, yet. No, to be honest, nothing interests me. I fell for Jake, which really sucks.
“Carmen, what do you want?” Peter gently asks. Beth is back, and she’s staring at me with a knowing look. I guess she’s seen a broken heart before.
“A small pepperoni pizza,” I tell her, which earns me stares from everyone. “Add French fries to that.” Beth nods, and she’s off. I love a good salad on any day.
“I hope you’re sharing those,” Tia comments.
“You won’t be able to eat all of that,” Chelsea warns.
“If I don’t finish it, all of you will,” I reason. Everyone except for Peter nods. Sure enough, the ice is beginning to melt in the root beer. After drinking some of the delectable drink, I add a little bit of ice to it.
“Carmen, I heard something,” Chelsea gently begins. Peter shakes his head as if to say, “no not now.” But his wife ignores him.
“What did you hear?” is the question that fills me with dread. It was hard to get those words out.
“Jake has a date for the wedding, “Chelsea softly tells me, and there’s nothing to say. Suddenly, this is way too much for me. Silent tears begin slipping down my face unchecked. Why does it matter? I’ve tried falling apart in private, it didn’t get me anywhere. More than anything, I wish that Eli was here. She always comforted me when I was in pain. But now, she’s out having the grandest time with Bridget, Nathan, and Dom. She doesn’t care about me anymore. So wanting her company makes me feel guilty. Having Chelsea around should be enough. No, it is enough. Eli may have been the one that I cried to in the past, but Chelsea is the one I can be myself around. Maybe that’s why those tears come so easily. Junk food. I eat it whenever the others do...
“Who is sh
e?” I ask, after the tears fade.
“Jillian Mace.” Jillian Mace? Why does that name sound so familiar?
“Who’s that?” Tia asks. Evidently, my cousin hasn’t met her either.
“She is the daughter of John Mace, United States senator for Connecticut,” Kailey responds, and something doesn’t feel right about this. Why on earth would someone like Jake date Jillian Mace? He isn’t into politics. Maybe it was love at first sight. The thought of that makes me feel bitter. Why couldn’t Jake love me?
The rest of the night is uneventful. We eat, laugh, and joke with one another. Peter pays the bill, and I drive back with Tia because she won’t ask any questions. As soon as we’re back in the mansion, I watch lifetime movies in my room until I fall asleep.
