Pure Connections

Chapter 10

      The egg on Jennie's plate erupted with lava-like intensity, drowning her picture-perfect order of avocado-smoked salmon toast in a vat of runny yolk. Her stomach roiled, and she grimaced, resting her knife and fork at the edge of her plate.

      "Told you that wasn't well-done." Sehun took another bite of his fried chicken sandwich. A few strands of shredded cabbage escaped the bun onto his plate, followed by a dollop of mustard-tarragon dressing that he caught with his thumb and licked clean with a grin.

      "Gloating is an ugly feature, SL. So is toddler table etiquette on a grown man."

      "Your sister is right, Sehun. Your posture is extremely distracting," Mom scolded, her own posture rigid as always, her glossy shoulder-length chestnut curls framing her face with signs of a recent visit from her hairdresser. She'd be fifty-six in a few days but easily looked a decade younger, albeit somewhat pale. Jennie guessed the heavy layer of foundation on her face was to blame. Mom trained bright amber eyes across the table at her. "We'll return it. If you ordered a well-done egg, that's what you should have."

       Jennie lifted one shoulder in a light shrug, reaching for her mimosa. "It's fine, Mom."

      Sehun scoffed. "Of course it's not fine. You just hate confrontation, unless it's with me or Dad."

      Jennie bit down on the response idling on her tongue. She didn't hate conflict—she just thought most things could be resolved without it—and she loved her brother like a living, breathing piece of herself, but his obsession with defending Dad concerning things he didn't even understand had never not been exhausting. Not that it was Sehun's fault he didn't know why their parents had divorced. But Jennie had promised she wouldn't tell him, and she was not about to spend Mom's birthday brunch arguing with him one way or another.
     
       "So, where are you staying in Los Cabos, Mom?" she asked, in lieu of answering her brother.

      "The Waldorf Astoria." Mom sighed with vague disinterest, shifting around the quiche tartlets on her plate. "It's only three nights, so I expect to be back before the party."

      "Well, it is your party, Mom." Jennie chuckled. "Your attendance is kind of a prerequisite."

      "Yes, yes. It will be quite the spectacle."

      Jennie and Sehun exchanged a knowing look before he turned to Mom, reminding her, "You love a good spectacle."

      "Your father loves a good spectacle," Mom clarified. "I'm beginning to think I got a little too good at going along with them."

      Jennie frowned. Mom's words weren't difficult to believe. It had been six years since the divorce, and every party—birthday, announcement, holiday celebration—had wound up being as grandiose as when her parents had been together. Coordinated by an event planner often hired by Dad, attended by the same collection of both their friends and acquaintances. Still, there was something in Mom's demeanor that suggested more than that—something that brought Jennie back to that day she'd gone home a few hours early and overheard her parents arguing about why they'd decided on a divorce. Fifteen years was a long time to not trust someone, even someone she loved. Was their marriage just another spectacle she felt she'd played a part in? 

      "How are things with Michael?" Jennie asked, doing her part to keep the conversation light. "He'll be at the party, right?"

      Mom waved away the thought. "Oh, that's no longer happening."

      "Since when?" Sehun rubbed at his brow in faux disappointment—secretly, he still thought Mom and Dad stood a chance. Not that either of them had ever fully moved on, despite Mom's dating stints over the last few years. "I saw him last week when I came by the house."