My Parents Skipped the Funeral of My Husband and Two Children for My Sister’s Birthday, but Six Months Later, One Headline Made Them Panic When They Discovered What I Had Done. / Chapter 5 / 121

Chapter 5 - The Dinner Invitation

The front door opened before I could even stand up; Melissa had used the spare emergency key from the fake stone by the garden hose—a key she hadn't touched in over two years.

She burst into the foyer in a flurry of beige cashmere and designer perfume, holding her iPhone in one hand and a thick bridal planner in the other. Her fiancé, Derek, trailed behind her, looking awkward and distinctly out of his depth in an impeccably tailored navy suit that couldn't quite disguise the sweat gathering at his hairline.

"Claire!" Melissa shrieked, kicking off her pointed-toe suede boots without looking where they landed. "Oh my god, Claire! Did you see the news? It’s trending on local Twitter! Eighteen million! I literally threw up in Derek’s car when Mom texted me! I couldn't breathe!"

She swept into the living room, opening her arms as if to envelop me in a theatrical, sisterly embrace.

I stepped back, perfectly, deliberately, out of her reach.

Melissa caught herself, her arms dropping to her sides, a slight pout forming on her glossed lips. "Okay... I get it. You're still in your funk. Claire, I know things were weird around my birthday, but you have to understand how stressed I was! It was my twenty-sixth! Derek had just proposed the week before, and everything was chaotic! But we’re past that now, right? We're family! Look who I brought!"

She gestured toward Derek, who offered a weak, practiced smile and extended a limp hand. "Claire. Deepest condolences, truly. Terrible loss. But... what an incredible vindication in court."

I didn't take his hand. I didn't even look at him. I looked at Melissa.

She looked vibrant, healthy, completely untouched by the carnage that had obliterated my life. She was glowing with the manic energy of a predator that had just smelled blood in the water.

"Melissa," I said, my voice empty. "Why are you here?"

"What do you mean, why am I here?" she laughed, though the sound was high and brittle. "I'm here for my sister! And... well, Mom and Dad told me they were heading over. We need to celebrate! Not celebrate the crash, obviously, but celebrate that you got justice! And... we have to talk about the wedding."

She practically bounced onto the sofa next to Eleanor, dumping the massive white leather-bound wedding planner onto the coffee table, right next to Toby’s Lego spaceship. She didn't even notice the small, plastic astronaut that tumbled to the floor when the book hit the wood.

I watched that little astronaut roll against the skirting board. Something inside my chest, which had been frozen solid for six months, turned into liquid tungsten.

"The wedding," I repeated softly.

"Yes!" Melissa beamed, flipping open the book with manicured acrylic nails. "So, you know we had to compromise on the Swan Coach House because Dad was being totally stingy about the catering packages. But now... Claire, The St. Regis has an opening on May 18th! The Grand Ballroom! It’s what I’ve dreamed about since I was twelve years old! The minimum spend is eighty-five thousand, plus the floral designer from New York needs a fifty-thousand-dollar deposit by Friday. Derek and I figured, since you have this massive settlement, you could just underwrite the wedding as your gift to us! And of course, you'll be my Matron of Honor! I already picked out a gorgeous slate-gray dress for you—it’ll totally cover your collarbone scar!"

Derek coughed into his hand, shifting his weight. "Claire, also... from a corporate structuring perspective, if you were to invest, say, two million into my boutique consultancy as a limited partner, we could write off significant portions of Melissa's wedding expenses through our corporate entertainment expense accounts. It’s an immediate tax shield for your settlement capital. Harrison Vance is a good litigator, but he’s not a wealth preservation strategist. I can handle the portfolio."

Arthur nodded aggressively from the armchair. "Derek is right, Claire. That’s what I was trying to tell you. You don't know how to navigate this! Derek has Wall Street connections!"

I looked at the four of them: Arthur, desperate to escape the noose of his balloon mortgage; Eleanor, terrified of losing her social standing at the garden club; Melissa, intoxicated by visions of an extravagant society wedding; and Derek, looking for a bailout for his failing, fraudulent consultancy.

They hadn't come to comfort a grieving mother. They hadn't come to visit the graves. They had come to carve up the carcass of Ethan, Toby, and Maya’s compensation.

"You want to celebrate," I said slowly.

Melissa clapped her hands together. "Yes! Exactly! God, Claire, I knew you’d understand! Let’s go out tonight! All of us! Let’s go back to Le Petit Châtelet! We’ll get the private room this time! Arthur can call ahead, they know him!"

"Le Petit Châtelet," I murmured. "The restaurant where you ate while I watched the dirt fall on Toby’s coffin."

Eleanor flinched. Melissa’s smile froze, turning sour and defensive.

"Claire, are you going to hold that over my head for the rest of my life?!" Melissa whined, crossing her arms. "I said I was sorry! Well, I didn't say it, but I meant it! You know how important that dinner was! It was the night Derek asked Dad for his blessing! If I had canceled, it would have ruined everything! Can't you just let us be happy for once?!"

I looked at her for a long, quiet moment.

"All right," I said.

Arthur blinked, caught off guard. "All right? What do you mean?"

"Let’s go to dinner," I said, my voice terrifyingly calm. "Tomorrow night. Seven o'clock. Le Petit Châtelet. The private dining room upstairs. Book it under your name, Arthur. Invite Aunt Brenda, Uncle Robert, and Cousin Greg too. Bring everyone."

Arthur’s face split into a wide, triumphant grin. "Now you’re talking, girl! That’s my Claire! Family first, right? We’ll get a table for ten! We’ll lay all the numbers out on the table, Derek will bring his financial outlines, and we’ll figure out how to allocate the funds properly!"