“You’re just jealous,” Kyla says, her eyes tight and cruel. When she lands back on me, she relaxes them and puts her smile back in place. “I am a model. I’ve shot a lot this year, actually, for Hurley and DC.”

Of course she’s a model. And of course she’s successful. I watch Shelly walk by with two bottles of wine toward the kitchen, and I follow her, suddenly thirsty.

“Wine anyone?” I ask, playing hostess.

“Ohhhhhh yeah,” Jessie says, hugging me from behind and following me into the kitchen. She whispers in my ear along the way. “She’s a viper. Just don’t let her get to you. It’s all a game.”

I pat her hands and free myself once in the kitchen. Shelly is oddly on her game today, flitting about while the catering crew readies every detail. She’s polished, wearing something designer and fit for a CEO or the spokeswoman for some grand charity. I know now, from the little bit Cody has said, that the image is what Shelly’s always wanted to become. But her reality is depressed—a failure. She still pretends on days like today.

I notice that she and Cody hardly speak. They’re cordial, almost like a business acquaintance you run into at a cocktail party. Even before Mac and I found our groove, you always knew we were father and daughter. And on holidays, there was always a sense of warmth between us. But the air between Shelly and Cody is cold, ice cold. And I’m starting to think there is nothing that will ever be able to warm it.

I pour a glass of wine for each of us, and then add a couple more for Trevor, Cody, and Jim. I take them to everyone, careful not to interrupt the good conversation that seems to be flowing. I recognize the books out on the table, and Jim seems honestly engaged in what Cody’s saying. I know Trevor’s given him a lot of the talking points, but he’s really selling it.

When the doorbell rings, Trevor gets up to answer, leaving Jim and Cody alone, and I join him to give them privacy.

The Sumners enter, and suddenly this lifeless house that I’ve been trapped in for months feels full of family. Cody and Jim join us in the kitchen a few minutes later, and Cody looks pleased. I try to get his attention, but Kyla quickly takes him for herself, stuffing some hors d’oeuvre in his face. I giggle to myself when I catch him spit it out into a napkin when she’s not looking.

I’m not able to talk with Cody throughout the entire dinner, but the overall conversation and tone of the day is so different from the last family meal I had in this room. Jim doesn’t talk to Cody directly, but he’s not openly mean to him either. He keeps talking with Trevor about the new deal, and how he thinks it might work. The way he ignores Cody offends me, and I dig my nails into my knee to keep myself calm and remind myself that Cody seems to be okay with how things are going.

When dinner is done, I catch the two of them actually shaking hands, and when I lock eyes with Cody, he flashes me my favorite smile—the one that says everything is right in the world. And even though I’ve lost a piece of my past, I feel somehow healed knowing Cody might get to keep his.

Trevor walks out with the Sumners, and he and Kevin make plans for a few drinks back at the hotel. Trevor’s relentless in begging me to join them, but I know I can’t keep up my performance for any longer tonight. I’m cracking at the seams, and all I want to do is lay on the grass and talk to Mac. I finally agree that we all go out and celebrate with Cody tomorrow, and he seems satisfied to join them on his own tonight.

I almost sprint outside as soon as Trevor leaves the driveway. The air is cold and crisp, and the early afternoon light is beaming on the dew and ice left on the tree branches. I find my spot at the side of the house, just outside of anyone’s view. I know Jim will spend the rest of the day watching football or drinking brandy in his office, and Shelly is already drunk.

Satisfied that I’m on my own, I lay back and drop my forearm over my eyes to block out the sun.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. You talking to Mac?” Cody says.

I squint and sit up to look at him, a little embarrassed that he’s caught me again. I half-smile and shrug. “Yeah, I’m a little lost today…sorry, I thought you left to take Kyla home?” I say, looking around Cody’s legs, hoping not to see her.

“Not yet. She’s…upstairs,” he says, gesturing behind him. I swallow hard realizing what he means. She’s in his bedroom, and he’s out here, which probably means she isn’t decent, or she’s in his bed, or in his shower…waiting.

“Stop,” Cody says, almost like he can read my thoughts. “She had to print some things from her email is all. She has a shoot tomorrow and needed her schedule.”