Chapter 2 - Seven Days Before the Garden Party)
One week earlier, Claire had nearly convinced herself that things were getting better.
That was the dangerous thing about Evelyn Mercer.
She knew exactly how much cruelty a person could tolerate before offering a little kindness.
The Mercer estate had been preparing for Evelyn's seventieth birthday celebration.
The event was officially described as a garden luncheon.
In reality, nearly two hundred invitations had been sent to politicians, business owners, doctors, judges, charitable donors and people whose names appeared on buildings.
Claire had not wanted to attend.
Daniel had understood.
"If you don't want to go, we don't go."
They were standing in their kitchen at home while Lily sat in a high chair attempting to feed blueberries to a stuffed rabbit.
Claire smiled tiredly.
"She'll make it into another war."
"Everything is a war to my mother."
"Exactly."
Daniel leaned against the counter.
At thirty eight, he had spent most of his life learning how to stand beside Evelyn without appearing to stand against her.
After his father died when Daniel was eleven, Evelyn had raised him alone.
At least that was the story everyone knew.
She had turned a modest family manufacturing company into a national investment group.
She had paid for Daniel's schools.
His apartment.
His first business venture.
She had also spent decades reminding him of every dollar.
Claire had grown up differently.
Her mother cleaned hotel rooms.
Her father repaired air conditioners until a heart attack killed him when Claire was nineteen.
Claire attended community college, worked two jobs and eventually became a pediatric occupational therapist.
She met Daniel at a charity event where he had been trying to carry six boxes of donated children's books at once.
He dropped three.
Claire laughed.
Daniel asked her to dinner.
Evelyn hated her before dessert.
Not because Claire had done anything wrong.
Because Claire did not need to be impressed.
The first time Evelyn casually mentioned the value of the Mercer estate, Claire had answered, "It must cost a fortune to heat."
Daniel laughed for ten straight minutes.
Evelyn did not.
Four years later, the memory still irritated her.
Claire watched Lily mash a blueberry into the tray.
"If we don't attend your mother's birthday, she'll tell everyone I'm separating you from the family."
Daniel crossed the kitchen.
"Are you?"
Claire looked at him.
"Trying to separate me from the family?"
"No."
"Then I don't care what she says."
Claire wanted to believe it was that simple.
But Evelyn had ways of making other people's lies expensive.
Two months earlier, a preschool waiting list had suddenly lost Lily's application after Evelyn argued with Claire over a holiday dinner.
A week later, Daniel's small development firm lost financing from a bank where Evelyn sat on the advisory board.
Neither incident could be proven.
Both were described as coincidences.
Daniel kissed Claire's forehead.
"We'll go for two hours."
"One."
"One and a half."
"One hour and fifteen minutes."
He smiled.
"Deal."
Lily lifted the stuffed rabbit.
"Bunny birthday."
Daniel took it solemnly.
"Bunny is invited."
"No," Claire said.
"Why?"
"Because Bunny has better judgment than we do."
Daniel laughed again.
That evening, Evelyn called.
Claire almost ignored it.
Instead she answered.
"Hello, Evelyn."
"I was wondering whether Lily still likes pink."
Claire blinked.
It was such a normal question that she did not know how to respond.
"Yes."
"I ordered decorations for the children."
"There will be other children?"
"Several."
Claire heard papers shifting.
"I know we have had our disagreements."
That sentence alone made Claire suspicious.
Evelyn continued.
"I want Saturday to be peaceful."
"So do I."
"And I want Lily to feel that she belongs here."
Claire's grip tightened around the phone.
Evelyn had never said anything close to that before.
"Why now?"
A pause.
Then a softer voice.
"Because Daniel is my only child."
Claire waited.
"And Lily is my only grandchild."
It sounded rehearsed.
But Claire wanted it to be true.
People changed.
Grandchildren changed people.
Loss changed people.
Maybe turning seventy had made Evelyn look at her life differently.
Maybe Claire's anger had become too automatic.
"I appreciate you saying that."
"Bring her early."
"Why?"
"The photographer is taking family portraits before the guests arrive."
Claire hesitated.
Evelyn added, "I bought Lily a small present."
That night Claire told Daniel.
He looked more surprised than she did.
"A present?"
"Apparently."
"Should we call the police?"
Claire laughed.
Daniel smiled, but not for long.
"What do you think?"
"I think I want your mother to love our daughter."
Daniel lowered his eyes.
"I know."
Claire touched his hand.
"Maybe I keep expecting the worst from her."
"You usually have evidence."
"Daniel."
"I'm serious."
He sat beside her.
"My mother is capable of being generous. She's also capable of making generosity feel like debt."
Claire nodded.
"What if she really is trying?"
"Then we let her."
He squeezed her hand.
"But the first second you feel uncomfortable, we leave."
Claire agreed.
Neither of them noticed that Lily had climbed down from the couch.
She had found Claire's phone on the coffee table.
The screen was still open to a photograph Evelyn had sent.
It showed dozens of pale pink and white balloons arranged beside a garden arch.
Lily touched the picture.
"Pretty."
Claire smiled.
"They are pretty."
Lily pointed again.
"Grandma balloons."
"Yes."
If Claire had examined the photograph more closely, she might have noticed something beneath the arch.
Near the bottom of the image, almost hidden behind a flower arrangement, lay several black sandbags.
Weighted balloon anchors.
Six of them.
May you like
By the day of the party, five would still be there.
One would be missing.
