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Annabelle reached out of the backseat of the limo to accept Elizabeth's hand. It had been a long time since she rode in the back of one of the fancy, stretched-out cars. The reason she hadn’t bought a new dress was so she could treat Elizabeth to the most exquisite ride possible for the gala. It was worth it to save her pennies for such a special occasion.
The white lights adorning her father's yard and house twinkled like stars in the night, giving the property a festive glow. Car after car pulled into the circular drive to drop off party guests. The only thing missing was a red carpet. Every year, the Scott Gala was bigger and better than the year before, no doubt a direct result of the stepmonster's ridiculous need to impress friends and neighbors.
It was the event of the year for her family, but Annabelle remembered when it was low-key and limited to very dear friends and associates. Those were the glory days, when her mother glided around the house in a flowing white gown and had fascinating conversations with fellow professors, authors, and essayists. Back then, Annabelle loved that her mother would introduce her to exquisitely talented people, like Margaret Atwood. She missed those parties, where intelligent guests made it something special.
Despite the change in caliber of guest, Annabelle didn’t mind attending. Even now, the event evoked lovely memories. It also felt good to have the woman she loved at her side.
Elizabeth looked as poised and confident as ever, a natural in this environment. “They’ve done a wonderful job with decorating,” she remarked as they passed into the foyer.
“Yes, they have. It looks like the stepmonster showed some restraint this year.” The various wreaths were tastefully adorned with nothing more than a red ribbon. It reminded Annabelle of when her mother had been the lady of the house. Sharon had a penchant for over-the-top displays, but this was a nice change back to tradition.
The thought brought up another memory of her mother doing a hilarious imitation of Annabelle’s paternal grandmother, Georgina “Senior.” With a brusque voice and clipped syllables, her mother would say things like, “We can't have this being too ostentatious, you know.”
Annabelle wondered if her formidable Grandma Georgina might have had a hand in reining the stepmonster in with this year's decorating. Even in her eighties, the older Georgina scared the wits out of most people, Sharon included. Annabelle’s sister was so far up their grandmother’s backside, Annabelle wondered if it was a way of hiding her own fear of the lady. As far as Annabelle was concerned, Grandma Georgina was rigid, but no one to be scared of. The stepmonster, on the other hand...
“Ah, Annabelle, darling.”
Speak of the decorating devil.
There Sharon stood in all her sequined glory. Her abundant platinum blonde hair was piled atop her head and Annabelle suspected the breasts straining at the bodice of the dress might be new. There was certainly more to them in this year's deep v-neck dress than there had been last year.
“Sharon, it's nice to see you.” Annabelle leaned in for a perfunctory kiss and instantly regretted it. Perfume clogged her senses, so heavy she could taste it.
“And here is your plus one.” Sharon extended her hand to Elizabeth. “I'm Sharon Scott, Annabelle's stepmom, and you are very welcome here.”
The next thing she said left Annabelle cringing.
Sharon lowered her voice and whispered, “I was a lesbian once, too, in college. So we're all friends here.”
“You are insane,” Annabelle hissed, feeling heat rush through her from head to toe.
Apparently, Sharon had no shame, because she winked and waved her off. “Don't mind her. I'm the cool stepmom, so we're good.” She gave a little jiggle of her shoulders, perhaps trying to dance in place. It just looked ridiculous.
Cool? Delusional, more like. Annabelle bit her tongue and tried to look for a reason to get away as quickly as possible.
“Well, I appreciate that, Mrs. Scott,” Elizabeth said.
The blonde laughed and fluttered her hand. “Oh, call me Sharon, please. Now go on and have fun you two.”
Annabelle's hand closed around Elizabeth's arm and she pulled her into the growing crowd. “I am mortified,” she whispered. “That was classic Sharon.”
“She doesn't seem that bad,” Elizabeth said. “I'm sure she's just trying to be friendly.”
“Well, I wish she wouldn't try so hard.” Annabelle finally relaxed her grip and moved her hands down to lace her fingers with Elizabeth's. “Why don't we go try some of the refreshments? They are always amazing. The catering is top-notch every year, so make the most of it.”
Throughout the night, Annabelle didn't have any more problems with her stepmother. Sharon was too busy circulating among the guests, making sure she welcomed everyone. Annabelle had to admit her stepmother meant well. She was an enthusiastic and gracious hostess, who just wanted everyone to have a good time. All Annabelle wanted was for the woman to act her age, like she was a stepmother, and not a buddy. But she supposed she should let go of her feelings, since Sharon wasn’t actually hurting her.
And it wasn’t like Sharon was bleeding her father dry. Annabelle knew how tightly he held the purse strings. If her stepmother had new breasts, then her father had approved the purchase. Maybe it was time for Annabelle to stop being so hard on the woman.
Those thoughts made her feel a little lighter. She introduced Elizabeth to everyone she knew, which was just a small portion of the guests these days, mostly family and some of her father’s long-time colleagues. None of her mother’s prestigious academic friends were invited to the party anymore, something that filled her with disappointment. By the time they had circulated once, the room was packed, the band was playing holiday tunes, and Annabelle had only one person left to see.
“There’s my father,” she said, nudging Elizabeth. “We should go meet him.”
Elizabeth nodded. The smile hadn’t wavered, not once, and it seemed she actually enjoyed socializing with these people. Annabelle certainly didn’t begrudge her. The party could be great fun, as long as Sharon didn’t try to play the “cool I-was-once-a-lesbian stepmom” thing with her again.
They maneuvered through the crowd and Annabelle’s father caught her eye. He waved her over, smiling as he chatted with someone she recognized as one of his senior staffers. A vice president of some sort, Annabelle recalled, and she offered them both a smile when her father bent to kiss her cheek.
“Annabelle, I’m so glad you could make it,” her father said. His close-cut gray hair complemented his squared jaw and the deep laugh lines on either side of his mouth. Annabelle thought he looked like someone straight out of an eighties prime-time soap opera, distinguished and well-to-do.
“Thanks. I’m happy to be here.” She turned to make introductions. “Elizabeth, this is my father, Russell Scott. Dad, this is Elizabeth Pritchard, my girlfriend.”
“I knew you were seeing someone, but girlfriend, eh?” Annabelle’s father smiled warmly as he extended his hand. Before Elizabeth’s fingers even met his, a cold voice broke into the conversation.
“Not to mention my boss.”
The smile on Elizabeth’s face tightened almost imperceptibly, but Annabelle saw the change. She also saw the VP turn away from them and quickly locate another conversation to join. Gritting her teeth, Annabelle watched her sister’s approach. “Georgina,” she greeted her.
“Annabelle. Elizabeth.” George gave them a single nod over the wine glass she held in front of her. As usual, she looked perfectly polished, not a hair out of place. It was slicked back from her head and secured in a tight bun. The deep blue dress looked new and made Annabelle’s older dress appear shabby by comparison.
“Your boss?” Russell’s smile fell slightly. “Really?”
“Yes, Mr. Scott, that is correct.” Elizabeth took over the conversation and Annabelle let her. She knew if she opened her own mouth, it might turn into a scene that would embarrass more than a few people. Not that the realization stopped the words from wanting to get out. Oh no, she wanted to be heard, but she bit her lip and waited.
To his credit, Russell didn’t look any less friendly, but George’s lips were a severe, narrow red line in her face. The pinched expression made her look much older and Annabelle wondered why she thought she even had to butt in with her two cents.
“I see.” Annabelle’s father glanced at her, then George, and then back at Elizabeth. “Is this considered appropriate where you work?”
“Mr. Scott, as you probably know, George is a junior analyst under my mentorship at our firm. My relationship with Annabelle has absolutely nothing to do with that. My work and private lives are very much separate, and this romance has not affected how I interact with George. Recently, I did give her more opportunities at work, and this is due solely to her incredible intelligence and work ethic. Her work and educational history both speak for themselves, as she has always been at the top of her class and highly praised by previous employers. So if you’re going to imply that any bias exists on my part because of Annabelle, you would be doing not just me, but both of your daughters – especially George – an egregious disservice.”
The speech was eloquent, certainly becoming of a queen. Even now, Annabelle saw the nobility in Elizabeth, inherent in the way she held herself and spoke authoritatively. Elizabeth certainly wasn’t going to accept any accusations of inappropriateness without a fight and she was far better than Annabelle at fending them off.
“Ooh, I see a little chit-chat going on over here. Mind if I get in on it?” Sharon wiggled her way into the circle, between George and Russell, and said breathlessly, “So what’s going on, everyone?”
“Annabelle is dating my boss.” George tipped her wine glass to her lips and Annabelle wondered what would happen if she knocked it out of her sister’s hands. Surely the cabernet sauvignon would ruin her gorgeous new dress, which would be hilarious...
“You don’t say.” Sharon’s eyes went wide and she shook her head, staring at Annabelle. “Oh, honey, I know we’re all very enlightened here, but this is concerning. It is never appropriate to do that.”
That was it. Annabelle couldn’t hold it back anymore. She lifted her hands, pressing them to her chest. “You think I went out with her knowing she was George’s boss? Jeez, guys, give me some credit. I’m not stupid.”
“Then how did you meet?” George challenged her.
“At the renaissance faire. Elizabeth plays the queen and I was one of her ladies-in-waiting this year. We knew each other for three months before she even asked me out.” Annabelle glared at her sister and raised an index finger in accusation. “Something about this whole thing pisses you off and I guarantee it’s not work-related. I don’t know what it is, but you need to let it go. Like she said, she keeps work and personal life separate. You need to do the same thing. I have no clue what goes on in that office of hers and you have no clue what goes on in our bedroom, so stop it.”
“Oh, it’s ‘our bedroom’ now, then?”
“Shut up.”
George scoffed and took another sip of her wine. Before Annabelle could give in to the still-present urge to knock it out of her hands, Elizabeth stepped forward. “George, from what I can tell, the only one being inappropriate here is you. I’d appreciate if you take whatever hostility you have toward your sister and stop misdirecting it at us.”
“Fine.” The elder sister turned on her heel and strode out of the room, slamming the glass down on a table on her way out the door.
Sharon tsked and shook her head. “You’d never know it, but George hasn’t quite gotten over getting dumped this year.”
“Dumped?” Russell looked surprised and glanced at his wife. “I didn’t know she was dating anyone. Who was he?”
“Not he, darling, she. Her girlfriend broke up with her earlier in the year. Jealousy or something, I think. She felt George was pining for another woman and, well...” Sharon shrugged as if that said everything.
Annabelle lifted her gaze to Elizabeth and saw the color drain from her face. In the moments that followed, a silent communication passed between them and Annabelle knew they were both thinking the same thing.
“Well, I am ever so sorry for that.” Russell cleared his throat, and Annabelle had to drag her attention back to her father. “I trust that you will handle everything appropriately, Elizabeth, and I’m glad to see Annabelle has found such a wonderful woman.”
As heartfelt as his words were, Annabelle couldn’t fight the feeling of her stomach swooping. Even though she’d had only one glass of wine herself, her mind felt blurry. Despite promising herself she wouldn’t make a scene, she plunged through the crowd, toward the coat room.
She was so weary of her family’s ignorance, her sister’s snobbery, and the constant reminder that she never did anything right. Annabelle grabbed for her coat and then warm hands curled over her shoulders, tugging her back.
“Hey.” Elizabeth’s voice came out soothingly and Annabelle just wanted to lose herself in her girlfriend. She turned, sniffling, and put her arms around Elizabeth’s waist.
“They never give me the benefit of the doubt. Ever since Mom died –”
“Hush. I know, I know.” Gentle hands stroked her hair. “Let’s get out of here,” Elizabeth suggested.
Annabelle nodded, her face rubbing against her girlfriend’s shoulder. She’d had her moments at family events, but never like this. Never with George calling her out all because...
“I should have noticed the signs.” Elizabeth set Annabelle away from her and looked her in the eyes. “I should have, but I didn’t. If I’d thought for even one moment George might be attracted to me, I would’ve let her know there was no reason for her to hope. I’m sorry about that. Let’s get your coat.”
Soon they were bundled up and in the car, driving back to Elizabeth’s condo. Picking Elizabeth up earlier felt so special to her, like she could give her the queenly treatment she deserved. Now, though, Annabelle wondered if George’s resentment was because her older sister thought she deserved Elizabeth more.
“Did you have any idea?” The question was soft, Elizabeth’s eyes full of concern.
Annabelle blinked tears out of her eyes as she thought about her sister’s dating history. Then she realized, she had none. At least, not that Annabelle had ever been aware of over the past ten years.
“I didn’t,” she finally said. “She must have kept it a secret until recently. Or, at the very least, she never shared it with me.”
“So there was no competitiveness between the two of you.”
“Never when it came to women, no.” Shaking her head, Annabelle continued to wrack her brain for any sort of hint about her sister’s sexuality. “But we ran with very different crowds in school, too, so we weren’t exactly keeping track of each other. Whatever she was doing, I was doing the complete opposite. I suppose she never told anyone for fear of what people might say.”
The number of streetlights increased as they drove along the downtown streets. Annabelle knew they were almost to Elizabeth’s house. When the limo pulled to a stop and the driver stepped out, Annabelle heard her girlfriend suck in a breath.
“Do you want to come in?”
“No, not tonight. Sorry.” Annabelle looked at her, still trying not to cry. The tears burned at her eyes and the very back of her throat. But she pretended not to feel them as she said, “I just need to think about all of this, okay?”
Elizabeth nodded and let out a throaty, “Okay,” before stepping out of the limo.
It was only after the driver closed the door and Annabelle saw Elizabeth’s condo door close behind her that she finally let herself cry.