Harrison sighed and lifted a hand as if to ward her off. "Mom. Don't."
"Don't lie to me. You smell like a brewery," she said, the tension in her voice rising. "You know I don't mind a drink on special occasions. But getting drunk like this? You know how I feel about it."
"I'm hungry," he muttered, swinging his legs over the bed. The sheets fell from his upper body as he stretched, joints cracking. The sunlight stung his eyes as he stumbled toward the bathroom.
Behind him, his phone vibrated against the mattress.
Madeline glanced at it. Then, without thinking, she reached for it.
"Mom," came Harrison's voice, sharp and tired.
She froze. "I wasn't— I was just curious," she said, cheeks flushing as she handed the phone over. "Forgive me."
He took it and walked past her without a word.
Madeline moved to the small sofa near the full-length mirror, adjusting the hem of her dress as she sat. "Did you know your father is considering politics?" she said casually, eyes drifting to the family portrait on the wall.
Harrison let out a dry laugh as he pulled a shirt from his closet. "That's insane."
"He could do it," she said. "Some connections here and there, he might even become governor someday."
Harrison turned to face her. "Tell him not to. We already get too much media attention as it is."
Her face dimmed. "Well, he'll make his own decision."
She crossed her legs and cleared her throat before adding, "Do you know Lora's daughter is back? She's staying with her now."
He didn't respond.
"Her boyfriend wants to get back together with his ex," Madeline continued, shaking her head. "He's a fool to leave someone like her. Anyway, I want you to meet her daughter. She's twenty-one. Brown eyes, wavy hair. Very pretty. I think she's your type."
Harrison dropped the clothes onto the bed with a thud. "It's better if I don't meet whoever you're talking about."
"At least you're listening," she said with a sigh.
"I need to change," Harrison said, glancing down at his joggers.
"I gave birth to you," she teased, finally standing and turning away with a smirk. "Fine. Be quick. Come downstairs and eat something. You haven't touched a bite all day."
She paused by the door. "Roselle will be at your birthday party next week."
He looked up at her, caught off guard by the name.
But before he could respond, she shut the door behind her.
*
Harrison Charley paused at the bottom of the stairs, surprised to see his father seated beside his mother on the east side of the parlour. Her head rested lightly on his shoulder, their eyes fixed on the television.
He was supposed to be out of the country, some business meeting, new company, expansion. At least, that's what Harrison had been told.
Still dazed, he turned toward the dining room but bumped into the edge of the table. The sudden clatter made both his parents look up.
"You're down already," said Mrs. Charley, standing and approaching him with her usual grace.
"We were just talking about you," Mr. Charley added from the sofa, his tone casual but unmistakably measured. He rose and followed them toward the dining area. "How do you want your party this year?"
The question caught Harrison mid-motion. He hadn't expected a conversation, much less about that.
He sat down. His mother began removing the lids from the serving tray, delicately portioning out his meal. She poured him a glass of apple juice without asking. Harrison pierced a piece of meat with his fork and took a bite before replying, his mouth half-full.
"It should be great."
He didn't add, better than every other year.
"It will be," his father replied with a confident nod. He moved to the drinks cabinet, pouring himself a glass of whisky. "If," he added, glancing over his shoulder, "you bring a girl."
Harrison blinked, frozen mid-chew. The salad in his mouth suddenly tasted stale. He looked toward his mother, who was now smiling as if she'd been waiting for this moment.
"Dad," Harrison said, his face tightening in confusion and disbelief, "I'm surprised you're saying that. I don't even have a girlfriend."
"Why?" his father teased, sipping his drink. "Do you like boys instead?"
Harrison stared at him, disgust creeping into his expression. "Why would you suggest that?"
Mr. Charley only shrugged, amused. He'd been talking to his wife about Harrison's complete lack of romantic interests. Their only son, handsome, wealthy, nearly out of college, and not a single girl introduced to them.
Madeline Charley had recently shown her husband a photo of Roselle, the daughter of her childhood friend, Lora.
"She's so beautiful," she had said. "Roselle saw Harrison's photo and asked about him. She's polite, intelligent, just like her grandfather."
Harrison scoffed, ignoring the hint of offense in his mother's eyes. "If I don't bring someone?"
"Well," said his father, returning to his drink, "then the party will be the same boring thing it always is."
Harrison could throw his own party if he wanted. His credit cards were untouched, his accounts more than healthy.
Madeline chimed in cheerfully, "Think of it as a theme. Everyone brings a date, even the single ones. No one cares if it's fake."
Harrison turned toward her, baffled. He'd expected her to take his side. It's your birthday, do what you want.
"I—I can't," he muttered. None of his friends were seeing anyone seriously, and the idea of scrambling to find someone felt ridiculous.
"But it's just for one evening," she pleaded. "And you're so handsome. Any girl would say yes."
She stepped closer, picking up a spoon to offer him a bite of the warm chicken stew. Harrison caught her wrist gently.
"I can eat by myself, Mom. Please."
Madeline made a face but relented.
"Oh—I have an idea," she said suddenly, hesitant but smiling. "What about Roselle?"
Harrison paused, sipping water as if to wash away the absurdity.
"Who's Roselle?" he asked, genuinely confused.
Madeline blinked. She hadn't expected him to forget the name.
"Should I invite her over to introduce herself?" she ventured carefully.
"No. I'm not interested, okay?"
He saw her glance at his father, a silent plea for him to push harder.
"What if," said Mr. Charley, "your birthday gift isn't the same old thing—watches, cars, blah blah?"
That caught Harrison's attention.
"What are you offering?"
His father smiled. "A vacation to Mars."
Harrison squinted, skeptical. "You'd do all that just to see me with a girl?"
"I would," he said simply, "but only if we see you with someone real. At the party."
Harrison fell silent. He could feel their eyes on him, gauging his reaction. A vacation like that... it would be something new.
"Mars is a crazy idea," Harrison said slowly. "I don't want to go."
Both parents sighed.
"But," he added, "I'll think about it. If you let me take a few days off school."
"No, Harry," Madeline interjected firmly. "You're in your final year. No distractions."
He shrugged. "That's what I want."
Mr. Charley hesitated under his wife's disapproval, then nodded. "One week. After your birthday. Who do you have in mind?"
Harrison smirked. "I could pull anyone, just like Mom said."
"Not just anyone," Madeline said quickly. "She must be from a good family. Like Roselle."
"Fine," he said at last, exhausted. "I'll meet Roselle."
Madeline's eyes lit up, her fingers curling excitedly against her lips.
Harrison stood. "By the way, Mum told me you're thinking of politics. Please don't."
He walked toward the garage door.
"Where are you going?" his mother called.
"Out. And I'm taking one of Dad's cars."
He stepped outside, squinting into the blinding sunlight. A grin spread across his face as he approached the garage. Which car would stun his friends the most?
The security guard waved. Harrison nodded for him to open the gates.