“Evelyn,” my father says, his face cold as he embraces me with one arm and places a stiff kiss on my cheek. “Happy holidays.”
He doesn’t look at me, but instead around at my party with distaste. Bridgette’s formal party, indoors, is more his style.
“Evelyn, did you do all of this?” My mother says, wrapping me in a warm hug and laughing as she looks around. “Darling, it looks wonderful –“
“That’s enough.” My father snaps. My mother cringes a little, like a scolded dog. It breaks my heart to see her this way.
“I’m glad you like it, mom. Come on, let’s get you a drink.” I put an arm around her shoulder and lead her away.
“He’s just under a lot of pressure, Evelyn,” my mom says softly, looking back over at my father as we cross to the bar. “You shouldn’t take him seriously when he –“
“
