The following day, just as Eddie was about to walk into class, his phone rang. The screen told him it was his mother and he picked up immediately.

Since he had asked his parents to help the Blue House Project, they had been keeping slightly more in touch than usual, which was vaguely uncomfortable for Eddie. His mother would call about once a week, asking for news and updates. Eddie found these interactions a bit forced and they usually petered out after a few minutes, after Eddie had answered her questions and not offered any of his own. She asked about his classes, about his friends with whom he worked, asked for photos. Eddie would sometimes find himself on the verge of telling her some funny story, or anecdote, or an interesting thing that had happened, but always stopped, reminding himself that his mother didn’t really care. She was just checking up on him, making sure he made good on his side of things for his father. So he would email her and his father pictures periodically, so they could see where their money was going.

Only she always called at night. Getting a call so early in the morning was alarming enough for him to hold himself back from class and answer.

“Mamma? What’s wrong?” Eddie asked immediately.

“Wrong? No, caro, nothing is wrong. I just wanted to say that I am sorry, but we cannot come to the opening.”

Eddie thought he must have misheard, because he couldn’t follow her words.

“Mamma? What opening?”

“The opening of the Blue House. Next week.”

“Next week.” Eddie repeated, dimly.

“Si. I am sorry but it is very short notice. Next time, you must ask us earlier, but we are joining the Russels for their holiday you see.” She went on pointedly.

“Oh.” Eddie said. Somehow his mother had gotten the impression he was inviting them to the opening, and passively chiding him for not inviting them himself. A red flower of anger unfurled in his chest, realising who the culprit must be.

“But I am sorry we cannot come, after you were so excited about it. So instead, I am inviting you all for thanksgiving.” She carried on on the other end of the line, willing to overlook Eddie’s rudeness.

This time, he must have misheard. “Excuse me?”

“I cannot do it after, because I’ll be at the wellness Spa for a week. So thanksgiving will be a good slot. I have already written to Mr Richards and Ms Caldwell, she is very lovely and sweet. Are you good friends?”

“Mama, no. Please go back and explain what you just said.”

His mother sounded like she was doing something else and was mildly distracted. He could hear her shoes on the tile.

“About thanksgiving? Yes, I have invited your whole team for the weekend. Well, about twenty of them, is that right?”

Eddie felt an acceleration of his heart and started breathing through his nose hard. “Mamma. No...”

A pause. ‘What do you mean ‘no’?” she said, annoyed.

Eddie floundered for something. “Mamma, it’s at too many people. Where will they sleep? We can’t ask them to stay in a hotel.”

“Rico, you know there is more than enough room in the house. And we can use the guest cottage too. I’m sure some of the boys won’t mind sleeping on the floor for two nights.”

“Mamma…” Eddie said, trailing off.

“I must go, I’m meeting Anneline. But Rico, I just wanted to say I am proud of you. And I am very much looking forward to meeting your friends.” She added significantly.

“Mama.”

“Si, caro?”

But Eddie could find nothing to say. His mind felt wiped and fingers were numb where he clutched the phone too hard.

“Nothing. Ciao, Mamma.”

“Ciao, caro.”

Eddie stared at the floor, unblinking. He could feel the dryness settling on his eyes but he needed to stay as still as possible, as if doing so could prevent time from moving forward.

-8-

Eddie all but ran to Richards’ office.

He should have known, should’ve listened to that cautious little voice in his head before. But he hadn’t, and the die had been cast and had come up showing a big fat ‘Fuck you, Eddie.’

He arrived at Richards’ door and found it open, which saved him the effort of forcing it. Except this time the dramatic entrance wouldn’t have been a show. He saw Richards and Cress sitting next to each other, heads close. When they looked up, Cress was startled and Richards looked annoyed.

“You have to tell them ‘no’.” Eddie said, panting slightly, even though he hadn’t been running.

They looked at him blankly, then Cress’ face changed as she realised what he was saying. “Oh, you found out.”

“Damn right, I found out. What exactly has happened here? What happened to respecting my privacy?” he demanded

“Eddie, please, calm down.” Cress tried, making some sort of motion with her hands. Supposedly to calm him down.

“No, I don’t think I will.” Eddie said. “I think I have every right to be freaking The. Fuck. Out.! Now, I realise I didn’t actually spell out the details of my service, but I really didn’t think I needed to. Was it you?” Eddie demanded of Cress.

“It was me.” Richards responded, meeting Eddie’s eyes, unimpressed by his outburst.

Eddie turned to him with exaggerated patience. “I beg your pardon?”

“We had no choice, Eddie.” Richards’ look of annoyance was mingled with some contrition. “You know the opening is for the Board to have a chance to show off their accomplishments. That means inviting people to show off to. And patrons. It was a tacit condition.”

Eddie rubbed his face, feeling more and more aggravated. “You don’t understand. They can’t come anyway.”

Cress looked concerned. “ok, that’s…Ok. But then what has you so upset, Eddie?”

He swung his hand outwards, hands open. “My parents, loving, proud socialites that they are, have decided that since they cannot come to the opening, they want to thank everyone in person. They want everyone, the entire team, to go to them for Thanksgiving.”

Eddie put a hand over his mouth, trying desperately to think of a way to make sure this didn’t happen.

“Short of giving everyone food poisoning just in time for the holidays, I cannot stop it. You have to tell them no, on behalf of everyone.”

Cress and Richards shared a look and Richards looked away, obviously leaving this part up to Cress, and Eddie felt his lungs constrict.

“Eddie, that’s…unrealistic.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie said from between gritted teeth.

“I know you’re upset-“

“I. Am. Not. Upset.” Eddie said deliberately. He wasn’t upset. He was terrified.

Cress stood and moved closer to him, but he stepped back from her open face, her wide brown eyes.

“Eddie. Even if we could somehow say no, this would happen at some point. They’re the financial backers of the project. They will want to be involved on some level.”

“But dragging the entire team to my house is not going to work for me. Tell them we will have a summer ball or something, and they can come to that. Not this.”

“Eddie, they already made it clear they intend to meet everyone before Christmas. This must be their way of doing so. They’re just proud of you, Eddie.”

“Cress, I’m telling you this now out of courtesy to you and your profession, but you know fuck-all about me and my relationship with them!”

Cress didn’t flinch at his tone. “Then maybe you should tell me.”

Eddie pushed a hand through his hair, his laugh sounding slightly manic, a lot desperate. “Cress, darling, this is not an opportunity for you to break open my head and delve into my seared and tortured mind, as I know you so dearly want to. This is me telling you that you need to make this not happen.”

Cress blinked slowly at him, but her face was downcast. “Eddie, we can try. That’s all. But I really don’t think they’ll go for it. It’ll look bad.”

Eddie whirled and turned to the door, then turned and walked back again, appealing to them both. “I’ve worked so hard on this, I’ve done everything you two have asked me to. Please.” Eddie said, the words feeling hard in his chest. “Please.”

Even Richards was looking at him now, in a way that told Eddie just how uncharacteristically desperate he must seem. He hadn’t let anyone see him so raw in years. The mask of Eddie was slipping.

Cress shook her head. “We’ll try, Eddie.”