There'd been here a few minutes, more than enough to pour themselves new drinks. Amber knew for a fact that her mom would notice, and possibly some of the others too; it depended on how good the conversation was, and with conflicting groups in the same room-- Aunt Jude and her mom, Madeleine and the other adults-- awkward moments were way more likely. They'd think she and Eric were talking about them.

Eric was-- frustrated. No wonder. He didn't know the situation or the rules, and Amber knew how much he needed to know everything. To be in control. That was why she hadn't wanted to bring him here, because he would get pissy. But instead of sympathizing, Amber just found herself more annoyed at his insistence on having everything systematized and clearly labelled. She and her family weren't under the microscope, ready for dissection. "Of course it changed," Amber snapped back as quiety as she could.

Their time was up. Amber started to pour herself her wine, cold-shouldering him as he went on and on, his tone growing hotter even as his voice lowered. She didn't have to see his face to know those familiar anger creases had deepened on his forehead. "We don't have time for this." Amber took Eric's glass and poured him wine as well. "You haven't done anything." If she didn't tell him that much, he'd stew in his resentment and it'd grow into a thing. "It's like I told you, things are difficult with my family. We'll talk about it later." With that, Amber swung towards the door.