Part 1
“Where the hell were you, you damn old woman? My family is starving, and the table still isn’t set!”
Chelsea lowered her knife beside the ribeye. Fourteen people behind Harper stopped talking at once.
Harper stood across the kitchen island, still wearing her coat. Her cheeks were flushed.
Chelsea picked up her wineglass.
“Good evening, Harper.”
“Good evening?” Harper stared at her. “Are you serious?”
Chelsea took a small sip.
“Completely.”
Harper looked toward the spotless counters. Then the cold oven.
“Where’s the prime rib?”
“There isn’t one.”
“The potatoes?”
“No.”
“The rolls?”
Chelsea shook her head.
Someone shifted near the doorway.
Harper’s father glanced toward the dining room. Her mother remained beside him, clutching a foil-covered dish.
“You knew everyone was coming,” Harper said.
Chelsea cut another piece of steak.
“I knew you invited everyone.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“No.”
Harper’s eyes narrowed.
Chelsea chewed slowly, then reached toward the drawer beside her knee.
Her fingers rested against the handle for one second.
Inside were two sealed envelopes.
She left the drawer closed.
“Chelsea,” Harper said, lowering her voice. “There are fourteen people standing here.”
“I can count.”
“My parents drove forty-five minutes.”
“I see them.”
“My aunt came from Connecticut.”
Chelsea glanced toward the older woman near the living room.
“Hello, Diane.”
Diane lifted one hand awkwardly.
Harper slapped her purse onto the counter.
“You’re sitting here eating a steak?”
“Yes.”
“By yourself?”
“That’s generally how one person eats one steak.”
A short sound escaped someone behind Harper.
Her cousin immediately covered it with a cough.
Harper turned.
“Something funny, Matt?”
“No.”
Chelsea saw Liam near the back of the group.
He wasn’t confused like everyone else.
He was pale.
His eyes moved from Chelsea to the drawer beside her, then quickly away.
Harper followed his gaze halfway.
“What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.”
“Then say something.”
Liam swallowed.
“Harper.”
“What?”
His eyes found Chelsea again.
Chelsea waited.
Liam looked down.
Harper turned back toward her.
“You knew we were having New Year’s dinner here.”
Chelsea placed her fork beside her plate.
“No, Harper.”
The room seemed to tighten around them.
“You told me you were having New Year’s dinner here.”
Harper gave a sharp laugh.
“Oh, come on.”
“I’m not joking.”
“Then what exactly are fourteen people supposed to eat?”
Chelsea looked at the untouched steak still on her plate.
“That sounds like a question for the person who invited them.”
“Mom, can I talk to you?”
Liam stood near the refrigerator while Harper led her relatives toward the living room.
Chelsea remained at the island.
“You can talk right there.”
His jaw tightened.
“Privately.”
“No.”
“Mom.”
Chelsea picked up her fork again.
Liam lowered his voice.
“You’re making this worse.”
Chelsea looked at him.
“For whom?”
He didn’t answer.
From the living room came Harper’s voice.
“Just give us a minute. Apparently there’s been some misunderstanding.”
Chelsea’s fork stopped halfway to her plate.
“Misunderstanding,” she repeated.
Liam rubbed his forehead.
“She’s embarrassed.”
“She screamed at me in my kitchen.”
“I heard her.”
“So did everyone else.”
“I know.”
The words came quietly.
Chelsea watched him.
Liam seemed to realize what he had said.
He looked toward the living room.
“Can we just fix tonight?”
Chelsea set down her fork.
“What does fixing it mean?”
“We order something.”
“Then order something.”
“For fourteen people?”
“You have a phone.”
“Mom.”
“What?”
He stepped closer.
“You know what I mean.”
Chelsea did.
She let the silence make him say it.
Liam exhaled.
“You could help.”
“With what?”
“Anything.”
“Cooking?”
He looked toward the cold oven.
“There has to be something here.”
“There is.”
His face softened slightly.
Chelsea pointed toward the refrigerator.
“Eggs. Yogurt. Half a rotisserie chicken. Some celery.”
His expression fell.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Harper thought you were handling dinner.”
Chelsea leaned back.
“Why?”
Liam opened his mouth.
Nothing came.
Chelsea waited.
His eyes dropped toward the drawer again.
This time she noticed.
Her hand moved casually across the counter and covered the drawer handle.
Liam looked away.
“What’s in there?” he asked.
“Kitchen things.”
He studied her face.
Before he could answer, Harper returned.
She had removed her coat.
Her smile was gone.
“My mother wants to know how long this is going to take.”
Chelsea turned toward her.
“How long what is going to take?”
“Dinner.”
Liam closed his eyes.
Chelsea looked between them.
Harper folded her arms.
“Well?”
Chelsea pushed her plate away, leaving half the steak untouched.
“Ask your husband what I told you both last week.”
Harper’s eyes shifted to Liam.
He said nothing.
“Liam?”
His shoulders stiffened.
Harper waited.
Chelsea did too.
Finally, Liam whispered, “She told us not to do this again.”
Harper stared at him.
“You’re really going to punish everyone because you’re mad at me?”
Harper stood at the end of the island.
Chelsea wiped her mouth with her napkin.
“I’m not punishing anyone.”
“There’s no food.”
“That isn’t a punishment.”
“You knew they were coming.”
“We’ve covered that.”
Harper laughed without humor.
Her mother appeared behind her.
“Sweetheart, maybe we should just go somewhere.”
“No, Mom.”
“It’s New Year’s Eve. Places will be packed.”
“We’re not leaving.”
Chelsea looked at Harper.
Harper caught it.
“What?”
“This is my house.”
“I know that.”
Chelsea said nothing.
Harper’s mother touched her daughter’s elbow.
“Harper.”
Harper pulled away.
“We live here too.”
“For now,” Chelsea said.
Liam’s head came up.
Harper blinked.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means exactly what I said.”
“You invited us to stay.”
“I invited you to stay temporarily.”
“We’re family.”
“That doesn’t change the meaning of temporary.”
Harper looked toward Liam.
“Are you hearing this?”
He stared at the floor.
“Liam.”
“I hear her.”
“And?”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
Chelsea watched the familiar movement.
He had done it at sixteen after denting David’s car.
He had done it at twenty-four when he wanted money he couldn’t repay.
Now he did it while his wife waited for him to choose a side.
“Maybe we should order pizza,” he said.
Harper stared at him.
“That’s your answer?”
“I’m trying to get through tonight.”
Chelsea’s expression changed slightly.
Harper noticed.
“There. That look.”
“What look?”
“The one where you act like you’re above all of this.”
Chelsea stood.
Harper took a small step backward before catching herself.
Chelsea carried her plate to the sink.
“This conversation is over.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Chelsea turned on the faucet.
Harper stepped closer.
“You don’t get to humiliate me in front of my family and walk away.”
Chelsea shut off the water.
For several seconds, neither woman moved.
Then Chelsea looked past Harper toward the living room.
Fourteen people had gone quiet again.
She turned back.
“I didn’t invite them.”
Harper’s face hardened.
“You could have warned me.”
Liam looked at Chelsea.
Chelsea looked back at him.
“I did.”
Liam said nothing.
Harper slowly turned toward her husband.
“What does she mean?”
He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Tell her.”
Chelsea stood beside the island while Liam stared at the floor.
Harper moved closer to him.
“Tell me what?”
Liam shoved both hands into his pockets.
“She told us.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
Harper’s voice sharpened.
“Told us what?”
“No more guests without asking.”
Chelsea remained still.
Liam continued.
“No moving her things. No planning anything with the house.”
Harper’s mother quietly stepped back toward the living room.
Harper noticed.
“Mom, don’t.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re making this look worse.”
Her mother’s mouth tightened.
“I think you’re managing that yourself.”
Harper froze.
Liam looked toward the ceiling.
Chelsea said nothing.
Harper turned on her.
“So this is what you wanted?”
“What?”
“A scene.”
“You brought the audience.”
Harper’s nostrils flared.
Chelsea’s gaze dropped briefly toward the drawer.
The envelopes remained hidden.
One carried both Liam and Harper’s names.
The other carried Liam’s alone.
She touched the drawer handle, then released it.
Not yet.
Liam saw the movement.
His face tightened.
Harper was too angry to notice.
“You’ve been waiting to do this to me,” she said.
Chelsea looked at her.
“No.”
“Then cook something.”
A few people in the living room shifted.
Chelsea almost smiled, but didn’t.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“Yes. I wanted to make sure you heard yourself.”
Harper’s mouth opened.
Liam stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Chelsea looked at him.
The word had finally come with force.
Just not when Harper had called his mother a damn old woman.
Liam seemed to understand that too.
His shoulders dropped.
“Mom, please.”
Chelsea studied her son.
“What are you asking me to do?”
He glanced toward Harper.
Then toward the waiting relatives.
Finally, he looked at the drawer.
“I’m asking you not to make any decisions tonight.”
Chelsea’s hand went still.
Harper frowned.
“What decisions?”
Liam didn’t answer.
Chelsea’s eyes remained on him.
For the first time that evening, fear showed clearly on his face.
Harper stepped closer.
“Liam, what are you talking about?”
Chelsea pulled her hand away from the drawer.
“You should answer your wife.”
His face drained further.
Harper looked from him to Chelsea.
“Answer me.”
Liam swallowed.
But he still said nothing.
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