White Ivy(76)

In the background, Ted began explaining how his child-rearing philosophy had always leaned toward financial independence, but that he understood all too well—he gave Poppy a wry glance—how a little generosity from the older generations could go a long way.

Ivy didn’t know what flustered her more—that her parents, thrifty as they were, had offered to foot the bill for two hundred guests, or that Poppy, for all her firm suggestions on how the wedding should be arranged, had not planned on chipping in at all. It’d been a delicate procedure planning the wedding thus far, since Ivy could never bring herself to speak frankly about dollar figures with any Speyer. It’d been especially awkward when dealing with tactless people like Meifeng, who nagged her at least once a week about how much money Gideon made, to which Ivy would respond with evasive, nonnumerical answers delivered in irritated tones. In reality, she had no idea how much Gideon made or the size of his trust fund (if any)—he spent money easily and decisively, saying no to small expenses as often as he agreed to larger ones, thus revealing nothing about his inherent wealth—and Ivy felt annoyed that this should be such an obsession on Meifeng’s part when even Nan hadn’t thought to ask Ivy about such private matters.

Poppy said, “I hope the reception will be up to your high standards, Nan. You have impeccable taste, that wonderful Chanel jacket…”

“All those checks you’ve been sending us these years,” Meifeng whispered to Ivy under her breath. “Your mother’s been saving them for you. And more.”

Ivy could only nod stiffly at her grandmother. Was this where she was supposed to castrate herself in gratitude? First the loan to cover her year’s rent. Now this. I’ll pay every cent back after I become a lawyer, she vowed, feeling very flat all of a sudden. The conversations continued on around her in pairs, everyone looking old and tired and gray, their skin drooping like papier-maché under the dim light of the crystal chandelier. Gideon was speaking: “The slopes are very icy on the East Coast compared to Colorado—do you enjoy skiing, Nan?”

Nan’s head snapped back in surprise. “Call me Mom,” she said firmly. “You’re my son now.”

There was a sharp sound of a chair scraping. Everyone’s heads followed Austin’s figure striding out of the dining room. “Are you looking for the bathroom?” Ivy called out at his retreating back. But he was already gone.

Nan didn’t take her eyes off Gideon.

“Ah—right,” said Gideon. “… Mom.” He took a large mouthful of goat cheese and winced, reaching for his water.

“See how he squirms,” Meifeng muttered.

Nan beamed and turned to Poppy, making a wide circle with her hands. “Now we are all family.”

“Yes…” said Poppy, her almost invisible lashes fluttering in double time.

Ted cleared his throat. “You can call me Dad,” he said to Ivy with a twinkle in his eye.

“That won’t be necessary,” said Poppy. She looked around with an air of resolute gaiety. “Should we bring out the pies?”



* * *




FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER and Austin still had not returned to the table. Ivy excused herself. She found him sitting on the staircase, scrolling listlessly through his phone.

“What are you doing? Come back to dinner.” No movement. “Come on,” she said more insistently. Silence. She grabbed the phone from Austin’s hands but it slipped and landed on the floor with a loud clatter. He didn’t bother to pick it up.

“It’s better that I’m not there.” He was sweating again, his pallor white and ashen, like the underbelly of a fish. A bead of sweat trailed down his neck and disappeared into the tight collar of his dress shirt.

“Let’s go,” she said, tugging at his elbow. He was too large now for this to have any effect. There came a burst of laughter from the dining room; Ivy could hear Poppy’s distinct huh huh huh carrying on the longest. “Austin,” she snapped. “You need to come back to the table.”

“Why?”

“You’re part of the family.”

“I wish I wasn’t.”

Familiar words rose to Ivy’s throat. She hated him for making her sound like a broken record all her life. “Just be…” She couldn’t finish. Austin’s face was twisting, his chin quivering, one hand over his eyes. Just be cool, was what she was going to say, this childish phrase seemingly the perfect advice that encompassed all she wanted for Austin: ease, assurance, knowledge of what mattered and what didn’t.

Before Austin could compose himself, Poppy was walking toward them, smiling her eager hostess smile. “Is everything all right here? I wasn’t sure if you two got lost.”

Ivy said “Everything’s fine” just as Austin said “I’m sorry.”

Poppy sat down beside Austin on the stairs. “I was talking to your sister about this earlier. I hear you’re interested in working with computers?”

Austin glanced at Ivy. She nodded.

“Uh, I guess,” he said.

“My cousin Spencer is looking for an intern for his software company in New York. Would you be interested in something like that?”

“What kind of intern?”

“You know, I never asked about the specifics. But I’m sure he’d very much like to talk to you about it.”