Sweet Water(90)

Martin disappears into the kitchen, and everyone is being a little too friendly with one another. Dad takes his seat, and Spencer pours him a bourbon.

“Would you like any wine, Mom?” Finn asks.

“Sure, Finny.” I guess he’s grown up a lot in the last week.

“Red or white?” he asks.

“White is fine.” I choke on the words. Everyone looks up at me. The tension is palpable in the room.

Finn removes the wine from the chiller and pours it in a crystal glass, a hand-me-down from Mary Alice.

Martin reappears with a baked chicken speckled with green and black seasonings, resting on a silver serving platter of juices. He scurries right back into the kitchen and returns with a baked dish of brussels sprouts, crisp and drizzled with oil. There’s a side of horseradish sauce reduced with balsamic vinegar that I taught him to make. He goes back into the kitchen for a plate of cheesy potatoes to top off the meal.

“Yum,” Spencer says, and even though we bought him the best meal plan there is at Northwestern, I’m sure nothing compares to a home-cooked meal. Although he has to feel the tension in the air, know something is off.

“Well, this looks delicious,” my dad says.

Martin raises his eyebrows, and I can’t help but notice my father’s unusual attempt at passing the olive branch. Martin must assume by now that I haven’t told him about what happened with Yazmin by the way he’s acting, and Dad is trying to ease the pain in the room, but his uncharacteristic gestures are only making it feel more awkward.

I try to swallow, my throat feeling thick. I’m starving, but I don’t think I can eat.

“Thank you,” Martin says, and I’m not sure who he’s thanking exactly or why my father’s being polite.

Maybe it’s because my father doesn’t want to see me get divorced or be alone, but I think it has more to do with the fact that he feels guilty. He believes the downfall of my marriage is because of something he withheld from me years ago, and it makes me feel terrible because it’s about so much more than that. Once the divorce is finalized, I’ll tell him everything and ease his mind, but this is not the right time.

We spoon food onto our plates, and Spencer oohs and ahhs in between bites. He either hasn’t caught on that there’s anything wrong yet or he thinks we’re acting strangely because of Yazmin’s death.

Martin looks at me expectantly, the lenses of his glasses dirty with the fruits of his labor. Oil, I think.

“It’s very good,” I offer.

He smiles.

“So sorry about your girl, Finny,” Spencer says. There it is. Spencer’s too smart not to know something is up.

We all tense around the table, but I’m glad he’s bringing it up. Martin can’t expect us to forget Finn’s dead girlfriend instantaneously just because the police have.

“Thanks. It’s been a rough few days.” Finn looks down at his plate.

“I would’ve come home for the funeral, but Mom said there wasn’t one,” Spencer says.

Finn shrugs. “Yeah, there wasn’t.”

“I don’t know why. Sometimes in these circumstances there isn’t one,” I say. “Too hard for families to bury their children, maybe,” I whisper.

Martin gives me a questioning look, and I know it’s because he thought I gave Alisha a check to pay for the burial expenses. Again, let him wonder. He should know what it feels like.

Spencer sits up straight in his chair and places his silverware down. “You know, my freshman year there was a girl, a student, who drank too much and passed out outside of our dorm on a brutally cold Chicago night. There are many.”

“I bet.” Martin laughs, but I want to kick him under the table, because I’m guessing this story doesn’t end well.

“Thank goodness I got to her in time before she froze to death. Everyone has to watch out for one another.” Spencer’s green eyes glint when he says this, heartfelt. He’ll make a great doctor someday. At least he inherited the right genes.

“I only knew her in passing, so of course it’s not the same thing, but it could happen to any of us. Accidents happen, and I’m sorry it happened to her.” My family agrees with Spencer’s statement, and I appreciate his sentiment, but it’s all wrong.

Martin is nodding, eating it up, as well as Dad, but this is not a simple case of a teenager partying too hard, and the nagging feeling makes my skin itch.

Something else is coming because of what we’ve done; I can feel it.

I’ve felt it all along. I ignored these warning signs years ago before I married Martin, and I need to listen to my inner voice now.

After dinner, Spencer is already on his cell phone talking to his old friends, making plans, and Finn is doing the same. It sounds like they’re conspiring to hang out together, and I think of what a great kid Spencer is to include his younger brother in his plans. Spencer likely realizes that Finn needs him right now. It makes me feel like I’ve done at least something right raising them. Although if they really bond tonight, I worry that Finn will tell him the truth.

Then I remember that he’s been alone with Martin and that this potential issue has most likely already been addressed.

Don’t tell Spencer a thing about what happened in those woods or kiss your Brown application goodbye!