Look at that thing! He says, almost in awe. How could I possibly eat anything else now that I’ve seen that? He winks at me again. I try not to have a physical reaction, but I can feel my cheeks heat.
Finn follows every step exactly as I did it. How long had he been watching me? I would have to guess the entire time, based on how he replicates what I did perfectly. He takes a bite and moans, and I refuse to acknowledge to even myself the thrill that it gives me.
So he likes your hot dog? I take a firm tone with my own inner dialogue. So what?
Alistair reaches across the table and grabs Finn’s plate.
Hey!
Just a wee bite, c’mon.
I snap out of my blatant staring and look down at my own hot dog, smiling to myself, feeling something warm and happy in my belly.
It’s not long before someone asks me, So where are you from, Violet?
It’s Finn’s mom, Eileen. I try to chew and swallow my giant bite of food as quickly as I can. I put my hand over my mouth, swallowing, before I answer. Victoria. It’s on the other side of the country.
British Columbia, right? Finn asks. I nod.
And is your family still there? Eileen asks again.
Yep, I say, not wanting to think about how annoyed I am with them. My complicated, messy, but wonderful, family.
And anyone else there for you back home? A boyfriend? I almost choke on my next bite. I can’t catch a break.
Mum, Finn says in a tone that sounds irritated. You can’t ask people that. He looks exasperated, like they’ve had this conversation before.
She only shrugs. I’m jist askin’. Her accent is a lot thicker than either of her sons.
Nope, I say, trying to sound chipper and smooth things over. No boyfriend.
A bonnie lass like you—
Mum, Finn says, and the one word is a warning. I hate the tense feeling that sweeps over the table.
Violet had no problem finding boys when we were in New York, Florence pipes up, grinning. Just never a boyfriend, I think.
What about you, Eileen? Albie asks. Any gentlemen suitors? Her two sons guffaw. Florence looks delightedly at her uncle.
At my age? Eileen says, looking almost scandalized. Nae chance.
Age is only a number, Albie replies. I would be embarrassed at the cackle that comes out of me, but someone else—Finn, I realize—has barked out a laugh of his own, drowning me out entirely.
AFTER LUNCH, WE’RE OFFERED A plethora of beverages from Albie’s scuffed blue cooler. No matter how much we drink, though, we don’t seem to put a dent in the number of cans in there.
Alba and Rose eventually join us, Alba wolfing down a burger and a hot dog before Rose has even finished loading up her plate.
What? I’m starving!
I find myself heading inside with Eileen, helping bring in some of the garbage and condiments. I feel a little awkward about our interaction earlier, and don’t want her to feel like she did anything wrong. I know it’s a generational thing to ask those kinds of questions, and she wouldn’t have known what a hornet’s nest she was stirring up.
We chat about Scotland while we’re cleaning, the conversation never reaching a natural flow. But I’m used to that with my family, so I forge ahead, trying to find something we can chat about.
What kinds of things do you do back home? When you don’t have your hands full with Finn, I joke. She doesn’t laugh.
I dinnae ken what’s wrong with my wee Finn. He’s a handsome lad, but he needs to start thinking about settling down. He acts like a bloody eejit, but he’s a sensitive bairn, always was. I was bletherin’ about it with my sisters and we’re going to set him up with a nice lassie, someone from our church.
She says this with a touch of pride, like the matter is settled, and I feel my stomach sink.
