“What? What do you mean?”
“Maybe it's me…maybe it's my fault. It's like I'm a curse.”
“No, Mom, no,” I whisper, leaning down and pulling her hair out of her eyes. “This isn't happening because of you. I mean, when did this even go on? The, you know, the…” I reply, unable to repeat those two ugly words: sexual harassment.
“Several years ago,” she replies.
“Long before he ever met you,” I point out. “So, what? This woman's going on TV?”
My mom nods. “One of those investigation shows is doing a piece about sexual harassment in politics, and she's going to be interviewed.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Well, we'll have to batten down the hatches. We'll probably have to stay in the house for a few days, though luckily tomorrow's Saturday anyway.”
“No, that's not what I meant. I mean, if Pierce sexually harassed a—”
“I don't want to think about it.”
“Mom, you have to,” I sigh. She's always been like the child in our relationship. I'm tired of the dynamic, but I don't know how to break the pattern without our entire relationship falling apart. “If Pierce did that, then maybe you have to—”
“Don't say it. Pierce and I are staying together. That's not a question. And even if he did do it, I’m sure it was a momentary weakness. It was just something that happened a long time ago, and he's changed.”
I shrug, feeling helpless. “I want that to be true, Mom, I really do. Not for his sake, but for yours. I did hear a rumor at work, though,” I say hesitatingly.
“What do you mean? What kind of rumor?”
“That…Pierce has a certain reputation.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
I want to tell her that it's because she's so fragile, but instead I just reply, “Because it was just a rumor that I heard from one person. I had no way of knowing if it were true.”
“Well, until there's some evidence or something, I'm going to believe Pierce. He said she was a woman at work who was denied a promotion she wanted, and now she's starting a jewelry line, and thought she might as well put her bitterness to good use and drum up some publicity.”
“I guess that could be it,” I say without conviction.
My mom nods. “I think I just want to be alone for a while. Do you think you could go back to the party, and sort of act like the hostess for me? You know, make sure everyone's having a good time and all that? Just say I have a headache if anyone asks after me.”
“Um, alright,” I reply, not knowing what else to say.
“Thanks, honey,” my mom says, settling back onto the pillow. I stand and head for the door. “I just can't believe it,” I hear her murmur as I close the bedroom door behind me. I wish I didn't believe it either, but there's a telltale knot in the pit of my stomach that's telling me I do.
I head back down to the party, taking the stairs slowly. I'd rather be doing pretty much anything else right now than plastering a smile on my face and pretending everything's fine. But I know my mom's right—it will look odd if both of us disappear during the party. I reemerge out back and take a deep breath as I cross back over to Greg and Allison.
“Sorry about that. My mom has a headache, I just wanted to check on her,” I relay dutifully. Greg and Allison murmur sympathetically. I finish the rest of my food quickly, and with only one ear on their conversation, before standing up with my drink. I excuse myself and begin to mingle, trying to circulate and play the part of the hostess like my mom asked.
I watch the fading light impatiently; willing the sun to set as fast as possible so that this party can finally be over. The chipper event organizer I met earlier appears quietly at my side as I force a laugh at a partygoer's joke.
“Have you seen Mrs. Thornhill?”
It still throws me to hear my mom referred to like that. “She's not feeling well. Can I help you with something?”
“Would you like the lanterns to be lit now, or should we wait?”
I glance around at the dimming light. “Now would be fine, thanks.” She hurries away and I spot Nate across the party, frowning at me. I avert my gaze quickly. If his dad hasn't told him what's going on yet, I don't want the task to fall on me. I see him making his way over, and excuse myself from my current conversation to disappear into a large group of people around the pool. Just another hour or so and the fireworks will be done, and everyone will leave.
The caterers move throughout the party, lighting candles on the tables and mini Chinese lanterns strung in the trees. I take a moment to admire the scene: the beautiful white lights, the well-heeled crowd, the murmur of easy conversation. My mom does know how to throw a good party. I grab another drink as the twilight turns into night and people begin heading down to the lower lawn to get a better view of the fireworks.