One Wish

“And you, Kendra.” She glares, causing me to catch my breath. “I guess you’ll be eating fresh air as usual.”

“Mom,” Eli warns. “Please be more respectful towards my wife.”

His mom is about to retort, but I quickly intervene. “It’s okay, Eli. I probably deserve it all and more.”

The whites of his mom’s eyes grow wider as she takes in what I’ve just said. I suspect that, in the past, I may have been extremely bitchy, as it sure as hell seems she wasn’t expecting what I just said in a million years. It’s true, though. After what I’ve learnt these past few days, I don’t like myself either. In fact, if I were his mom, I would hate me too.

Eli’s grip on my hand tightens once more, and when I glance in his direction, his jaw is locked, his eyes tightly zeroed in on one thing.

“Kendra, how wonderful to see you. You’re looking as beautiful as ever.”

I flit my gaze to the man causing Eli’s discomfort. A very suave man, early fifties, cigar in hand and a moustache that would make Tom Selleck jealous, parades his well over six-foot frame into the hallway, his presence felt throughout the room that’s big enough to fit a one-bedroom house in.

“Thank you…?” I answer, almost as if asking a question.

His pale blue eyes twinkle as he leans in to place a chaste kiss on my left cheek, his moustache tickling my nose. His smile is warm in my direction, making me wonder how Eli can’t stand the man.

I quickly understand why when his gaze flits to his son, his smile dropping just as quickly as his wife’s did for me.

“Eli.”

“Dad,” he retorts.

“We haven’t seen you in a while.” The way his dad says it is almost accusatory, but without really caring.

“I’ve been busy,” Eli simply responds.

His dad takes in a deep breath. “Yes, with your new movie… what’s it called again? Something like Love Losing Meaning…”

“When Love Finds a Way.” Through his locked jaw, his teeth grit with restrained anger.

“Ah, yes,” his dad replies with amusement in his voice. “Very original.” He then fixes his gaze back on me. “I hear you’ve been unwell. I hope you are better. You certainly look like you’re glowing.”

I frown for a moment because I can’t quite understand how Eli’s father can’t offer the same affection to him as he seems to be showing me.

“I’m doing much better, thanks,” I manage to answer, all the while taking in this strange chit-chat in the hallway. I am better. Still not one hundred percent, but better with each hour that passes, so I’m grateful for that.

His dad then quickly turns, quietly mumbling that we need to follow, leaving Eli hitching in a much-needed breath.

“Your father didn’t sleep very well last night,” Eli’s mom explains as an excuse for his behavior. I have a feeling she makes excuses for that man a lot.

Really, I should know all this by now, and yet, here I am, no memories jogged… nothing. It’s like I never existed.

Feet moving, we enter another set of double doors which lead into yet another grand room. A table as big as Manhattan takes up most of it. Only the finest of silverware, beige napkins with gold sequins, and the finest set of white china—which probably cost more than the average person’s yearly salary—is perfectly lined up in front of chairs with backrests as tall as me. It’s the kind of unnecessary grandeur that makes even the middle classes shudder at the sickening waste of money.

Eli’s father sits at the head of the table… of course. Why wouldn’t he? It’s becoming rather obvious, after only being here five minutes, that this is how things stand in this house. Head of the house, head of the table, head of… well, everything.

I take my time, waiting for Eli’s mom to take her seat next to her husband. Eli then leads us round the other side where we sit together, our crystal glasses soon filled with a red wine that has Chateau Lafite written on the label. I have no idea of the cost, nor would I probably want to know. I see a glass of water next to my wineglass, so that is what I choose to pick up and drink, much to everyone’s surprise. Am I really that much of a lush?

“Got any news to share with us?” Mrs. Prescott asks, quirking one eyebrow.

I frown at her line of questioning before I realize she’s insinuating that I may be pregnant. I guess me being ill, coupled with no drinking, would lead her to draw that conclusion.

“No,” I quickly reply. “I’m er… taking a break. Having a detox if you will.”

“Youngsters these days,” Eli’s dad says with a chuckle. “Always doing the latest craze.” He then proceeds to pick up his wineglass and take a sip. “No point if it involves having no fun. I say drink, girl. You only live once.”

Eli jerks slightly at this response, causing me to flit my head his way. He’s so uncomfortable it’s almost criminal.