Last Diner Standing Read Online Free PDF

drop the charges and she could get back home to her kids.
    I arrived at my parents’ house for pre-party drinks at six. I took one last look at myself in the rearview mirror to make sure I didn’t have a hair out of place. Show time.
    I walked the paved stone path to the house where my mother answered the door clad in an expensive, beaded black dress. Barbara Strickland is very thin, very flat-chested, very champagne blonde. I inherited my itty bitty titties from her. But my witty personality was all my own.
    “Rosalyn, so glad you’re on time for a change.” She cast a critical eye over my vintage gray dress. Vintage because I bought it at a rummage sale two weeks ago. She sighed. “Is that the best you could come up with?”
    Handing my coat off to one of the wait staff, I smiled and stood a little straighter in my secondhand dress. “Sorry. My Dolce is at the cleaners.” 
    White floral arrangements in tall vases were spread throughout the room. The ten foot Christmas tree in the corner filled the space with fragrant, astringent pine. It was trimmed in white lights and ivory ornaments. Gold-wrapped packages strategically dotted the Irish lace tree skirt. I knew from experience those packages were just for show.
    “The house looks beautiful, Mom.” 
    “It should. The decorators have been here for the last three days.”
    My father walked into the foyer and dropped a kiss on my cheek. “You look very pretty.”
    “Thanks, Dad.”
    My mother pursed her lips. “Let’s have a drink before the guests arrive.” She snapped at a waiter. “No, the nuts don’t go there. In the living room, please.” She pointed toward the formal room across the hall, then made a swath through the wait staff as they darted around the house, lighting tapers and setting out napkins.
    My father and I trailed behind, his hand on my shoulder. “Your mother started planning this party in July,” he said. “She needs everything to be perfect.”
    “I know she does.”
    In the family room, my sister, Jacks, stood next to a smaller Christmas tree trimmed in gold, blown-glass baubles.
    “What does she have against color?” I asked out of the side of my mouth.
    She turned to me and smiled, pulling me into a hug. My sister was thirty, six years older than me, but we looked the same age. Her blonde hair was shorter than mine, and expertly cut. Her eyes were a little bluer, mine a little greener. But as she pulled back, hers were filled with concern. “I’ve been worried about you. How are you doing? Really?
    I rubbed the side of my neck. “I’m great.”
    “If you need to talk—”
    “Here you go, ladies.” Jacks’ husband, Allen, strode over, two glasses of champagne in his hands. With sandy hair and blue eyes, my dad and Allen could be mistaken for father and son. And they were both doctors. Did I think Jacks had issues? I had so many of my own I didn’t have time to dwell on hers.
    Allen’s mouth turned down at the corners. “How are you, Rose? You know we’re here for you. Anything you need.”
    I slapped a smile on my face. “I’m just going to powder my nose. Would you please excuse me?”
    I calmly walked out of the room, past my mother who was giving a bartender the business about watered down drinks, and into the beige powder room. Leaning against the closed door, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I knew they were worried about me, but I wished they would stop talking about it. I was fine, damn it. Just fine.

    Guests started arriving around seven. Doctors, lawyers, golf buddies, Junior League members. I smiled and shook hands, always on the move. I usually get three questions from my parents’ friends: Am I dating anyone? Am I still in school? Have I found a real job? So I had a strategy this year, I would bob and weave my way through this thing, never landing in one place long enough to answer awkward questions. Make the greetings and move on.
    So far, I’d been pretty successful. Then my mother suddenly