A Death at the Party: a Novel by Amy Stuart

Author:Amy Stuart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2023-03-07T00:00:00+00:00

MARILYN AND I ARE ALONE in the kitchen. Margot is upstairs with Isobel, Damien in his room, and Paul out running errands. The centerpieces are done. It’s two o’clock. I’m at the sink, rinsing glasses. A specific kind of tension fills the air between my mother and me. It’s as if she’s always waiting for me to speak.

“How was the rest of your morning?” Marilyn finally asks.

“Mostly uneventful,” I say.

“You picked up the cheese?”

“No. But I stopped into the shop. Zachary will deliver it later.”

“We love Zachary.”

I spin from the sink to face her.

“Okay,” I say. “I went to Colleen’s grave.”

“Nadine. I thought we agreed.”

“I sort of just… ended up there. I was passing by.”

“No you weren’t.”

“Fine.” I pause, rubbing my forehead. “Lately. I don’t know. My brain can’t move past it. Certain things are just stuck. I’m… ruminating.”

Marilyn sips from her water glass, a concerned gaze trained on me. “Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

“You never visit her. You never visit them. Your parents! I don’t get it.”

“How do you know I never visit?”

“Because you’d invite me if you did.”

“Quite the assumption given you went without me today.” Marilyn sighs. “Okay, so I don’t visit my parents’ grave. Maybe I bury it all away. Maybe I need therapy. But it’s…” She pauses, choosing her words. “It doesn’t feel helpful to me to relive it. I’d rather move on.”

“It’s about honoring them.”

“You’re not honoring. You’re fixating.”

“Colleen was fifteen. She loved you!”

“Jesus!” my mother says. “Nadine.”

“Throwing you that party thirty years ago was her idea. You know that, right? She wanted to make amends. For… all that shitty stuff.”

“She wanted a party, that’s all. It wasn’t for me.”

The doorbell rings. I jump at the sound of it.

“Saved by the bell,” my mother quips. “Thank God.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “That was insensitive. Who is that?”

“Probably a delivery. Maybe Zachary with the cheeses.”

“Should I get it?”

I shake my head and wipe my hands on my pants. From the hallway I can see a head of curly blond hair through the high window on the door. No. There’s no way. I stop still in my tracks until the knock comes again. I simply cannot handle two encounters with Daphne Robinson in the span of only a few hours.

“Answer it!” my mother calls.

There’s no option. I take a quick glance at the foyer mirror, straighten myself out. Then I unlock the door and open it. There she stands, gorgeous Daphne, a large box at her feet.

“Hi,” she says. “Nadine. I know it’s ridiculous to show up at someone’s house hours before a party. I was going to ask you this morning if I could stop by…” She laughs and waves a hand, trailing off. “I even thought about just leaving this on the stoop, but—”

“Daphne,” my voice trills. “Come in.”

When she bends over to collect the box, I spot a round patch of sweat on the back of her sundress. Daphne is agitated. I close the door behind her and we proceed to the kitchen.

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