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The dinner was going just about as well as you could have expected, given the attendance of those invited and the immediacy of the matter at hand. The curtains hung dark and silent against the cold windows, the ceiling was alight with the bright flames of the chandelier, and the carpet was thick and burgundy. Everything was in place, and everybody seemed to be enjoying their food; lobster and asparagus was a hit, it seemed. There was a certain air of hurriedness that you could feel, however, like scratching a small spot of eczema on the back of your hand. It sort of itched and was a bit nasty to look at; addressing it only made it burn even more, leaving a painful sensation at which you would normally be frustrated.
You had cleaned your plate many minutes before, and were sitting in quiet repose at the head of the table, waiting for the others to finish so you could make your announcement. Your hands were clasped neatly in front of you, resting on your lap where no one could see you twiddling your thumbs in impatience.
Suddenly, you unclasped and arched your ringed fingers in front of your face, forming a small steeple with your nose as the church bell. It was time to begin.
"Well, everyone, let's get down to it, I suppose.”
At this, the guests’ heads popped up and their eyes narrowed; they did not want to get down to it, and were bold enough to be annoyed with you at this suggestion (you did not use stronger language for fear of scaring them away, brave as they thought they were). Utensils were set down noisily, and sighs were heard.
“And why should we?” asked Tom, in his staggered sort of half-accent. “Why should we listen to you? You’re a liar and an idiot.”
Although arguing might be more fun, you did not risk it this time; nerves were too high for raised voices to string them even higher. Then, a voice came opposite Tom, on your right.
“You’re an ass, and you’d be better off dead, I should think.”
Speaking was his step-brother, Howard, encouraged to use the same brash tone. You could easily have ended things right there, but you wanted to see how it played out, especially since it was you who had set the damn thing up. The next bit, you knew, would be touchy.
“Alright,” you began, with an imploring expression, “be patient with me. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the steps I took to ensure your safety, so at least give me your attention and – Sharon, mind the silverware, darling, it’s antique – and your time.”
This was enough to quell the rude murmurings and familial discontent for a while. If you were lucky, they’d even think about what you had to say with some sense of reserved judgment.
“I expect you all to know by now why I’ve requested your presence. Thank you to all of the out-of-towners who had to brave the storm to get here; you never can count on the weather, these days. It must be said that when initially I heard the news, I could not myself believe it, and so instead of alerting those who could manage it in an efficient manner, I led others to think it a ruse, and a hearty joke, too. For this, I must apologize; Tom and Howard are not entirely wrong to call me those things, nor would anyone else be, were they to add their voices to that chorus.
“However, I am set to rectify those wrongs, and deal directly with you in a manner befitting family. Because of the nature of the incident, it would appear as if some of us have more to gain than others, and perhaps more to lose. But let us not give in to our baser instincts, and instead vie with our own hearts, to determine what it is we are really fighting for.”
You paused, to let sink in the gravity of the situation. The clinking of dinner plates and the soft sounds of chewing had all but stopped, and the faint smells of the meal were fading as the food grew cool. Waiting for the party to eat was an imperative, and now that they had finished, the real talk could begin. Dealing with relatives on empty stomachs was always an unwise decision.
“On October the seventh,” you began, closing your eyes tightly, “someone very dear to all of us was met with an untimely fate. I have not, and will not, speak his name until after the services, but he was a friend and brother, son and father, to each of us a different man. He was perhaps the greatest influence on my life, and he will be sorely missed.”
Here, you stopped, choked with an upwelling of emotion, but your eyelids were open slightly, to see the reactions of the gathered crowd.
Aunt Bennie was silently staring a bit past your left shoulder; Gras was folding his napkin compulsively in his lap, eyes fixed on his half-eaten lobster. Jimmy and Victor were exchanging nervous glances across the table, and Tom’s hand was clasped tightly on Howard’s shoulder. The girls at the end were giggling uncomfortably, but soon stopped when their mother, Martha, gave them a stern look. Sitting next to you, Aless surveyed the table, glaring fiercely at each face with sharp eyes, even Dorster propped up in her high chair.
Sighing gravely, you raised your eyes to the chandelier, aglow with the light of many, small candles, your face warm and your cheeks slightly moist.
“He was murdered, of that much we are now certain. Of his killer, little is known, but I intend to find the bastard and put him to justice – as a service to memory, and as atonement for my behavior following the crime. My problem, though, is this,” and here, your eyes opened to look at each person openly. “One of you is guilty.”
Every particle of air in the room came to a complete stop. No one wanted to breathe, for fear it would give them away; perhaps, if she can’t hear us, she can’t see us, they thought. Even the twins, sitting opposite you, respected the silence, if sulkily.
You could feel the impatience and the rashness give way, then, to a sort of wariness. Your skin was on fire, from the logs in the hearth at your back as much as the intensity of the focus in the room. For a brief moment, you were certain you would be the next to go, so piercing was the torus of their attention.
Then, as abruptly as the change had come, it left, and was replaced by a hostility and uneasiness you were sure was directed at you. Tom was, as usual, the first to speak, a spark in his eyes and a scowl on his wrinkled face.
“Now, what is that supposed to mean, hmm?” He had one hand raised in the air, as if to question not only your statement, but your existence. Aless cut you a small grin and flicked her eyes at him, his face contorted with the strain of keeping his temper.
“It means you probably did it, you oaf,” she said with an uncharacteristic smirk. “It means all of you did it, or else I did, and you’re next.” With that statement, her face returned to its former state, and her gaze was once again stony and aloof, preventing any further jest from escaping.
Howard removed Tom’s hand from his shoulder and addressed Dorster, fidgeting in her seat, as directly as could be. She was only two years, and you suddenly grew apprehensive as he reached in to pinch her cheek.
“Did you do it, you little goof?”
A smirk crept up Aunt Bennie’s face, and the girls traded sly smiles. Victor elbowed Martha, who only rolled her eyes, and Jimmy’s eyes met Gras’ as the two nearly burst into laughter. As quickly as the violent mood had come, it had gone, and not for the first time, you felt as if you were not in complete control. You frowned, hiding your uneasiness, and spoke again.
“This is not a joke. No, Dorsey had nothing to do with it, that’s not what I meant, and you know it. What I’m saying is, one of you is implicated in the police investigation, but they haven’t responded to my inquiry as to whom. Regardless of what you think of me, Harv—“
You stopped short of saying it. You were close, but you had to hold it together, for his sake.
“—He is dead, and one of you is to blame.”
This brought the humour of the room back down, and the family was as they had been at the start: impatient, suspicious, willing to say and do anything, if given the chance.
“There’s someone missing though.” Gras stood up, pointing to each seated guest as he counted off. You knew well that this was a show, and that the missing party was immediately obvious as soon as he had brought it up. There was someone conspicuously absent, in fact, but you had desperately hoped no one would notice. Too late now.
“Where’s Quincy?”