I flinched. I'd planned to talk to you first. He wasn't denying it. The idiot fly wouldn't quit. It just kept trying to get in the can.
The nightmarish haze of the moment began to lift. He wasn't denying it, because it was true. Manning actually planned to marry my sister, to become a permanent part of my family, and not in the way I'd often dreamed about.
"What's the matter?" Mom asked, her party-smile wavering.
Tiffany looked delighted to have the attention back on her. "Manning and I are engaged to be engaged."
My mom covered her mouth with both hands. "No. Are you serious? You know, I had a feeling. I can't describe it, but the other day, I was reorganizing some photos and I came across the trip to Napa Valley where your father proposed . . ."
My insides flipped as my mom's words began to run together. I was going to spew Mexican food right here, all over the lawn. I looked at my stupid new heels, which I'd bought to make my legs look good, because I'd wanted Manning to notice. The blades of grass under my feet seemed to come alive, squirming like worms, and the fly was back, doing a figure eight around my ankles.
I closed my eyes. One of the things I loved about our backyard was that if you listened hard enough, you could faintly hear the ocean. Waves crashed that hard, their impact echoing as far as this. I could almost feel the ground vibrate with the collision of water and sand, but I couldn't hear anything except the wah-wah of voices, the squeal and splash of my cousins in the pool, my mother's happiness. Not being able to hear the water made the world feel small, narrowed down to this moment and my inability to breathe. All the while, Manning's eyes were on me-that much I knew, without even looking. It was just the two of us.
How could you do this to me?
I didn't even know what this was.
How could you let me find out like this?
How could you have spent the past ten minutes in the kitchen without telling me?
How could you marry her?
How could you marry her?
I couldn't get a breath, my throat now swollen shut. I was an idiot. Either my heels were sinking into the grass, or the ground was giving out. I had to open my eyes to center myself as my balance wavered. My eyes connected with Manning's. They were the cruelest color of brown, even when filled with what looked like regret.
Val, Vickie, Mona and I had gotten our hair and makeup done for today, yet I'd never felt more like a child in an adult's world. Tiffany was saying things like sweetheart neckline and cushion cut and something blue and Manning wasn't stopping her. He just shook my uncle's hand and looked at me. Touched Tiffany's back and looked at me.
A gnat zoomed around my face and I slapped my hands together, smashing its guts on my palms. Somebody had to stop this.
My dad.
With that realization, the ton of bricks on my chest lifted. My dad would never let this happen. I turned to see why he'd barely spoken.
His eyes were narrowed on Manning, watching his every move. Each time Manning looked at me, my dad saw. His gaze followed Manning's to me and then went right back. Their back-and-forth made me dizzy. The circle around us had somehow grown and also tightened, congratulations flowing. I listed to the side as the dirt gave under my feet.
Manning crossed the circle in one step and caught my arm. "You need air."
"Manning."
With that one terse word from my dad, everyone went quiet. Dad's neck had reddened under his collar as he stared at us. I suddenly felt as if I was the one who'd made the announcement. As if I was about to endure his wrath, the weight of his disappointment. Manning's hand on my elbow warmed me, bracing me for the explosion about to hit.
When his silence had stretched a little too long, the air growing tense, Mom spoke to him softly. "Charles, come inside for a few minutes. I'll make you a drink."
"I have a drink."
He'd make a scene, and Mom knew it. It didn't matter that this party was his idea, or that he was as happy as I could ever remember him being. His temper couldn't be reasoned with. It was just a matter of how badly he'd ream Tiffany out for this. Or me. Or Manning, the way Dad was looking at him.
"What's wrong?" Dad asked me, glancing at Manning's hand.
"She was going to faint," Manning answered. "I-"
"Come here." Dad opened an arm to me. I didn't want to leave Manning, but it wasn't a request. I went to my dad, and he hugged me to his side a little too hard, almost possessively.
Tiffany broke the silence, her voice timid. "Daddy-"
He held up a hand to her. I waited with bated breath until he inhaled through his nose and announced . . . "I think it's wonderful news.
Tiffany and I exchanged a glance, sisters first, shocked by his response. My dad was the one person I could rely on in this situation. For once, it elated me that he hated Manning. He couldn't stand there and say it was wonderful!