“Excellent choices,” the waiter said before leaving.
“You both mean everything mean to me,” Z began.
“Daddy, are you sick?” Brit asked. “Did you invite us here because you’re not well?”
Z smiled. “Britain, why you always jump to the worst-case scenario?”
“Well, are you okay?” Brit sipped the wine.
“I’m fine,” he replied. “Can’t I just be a happy dad?”
The sisters laughed.
“You and happy don’t go together,” Addison said.
“Determined, vigilant, ruthless,” Brit added. “But happy? I don’t think so.”
His phone, sitting on the table, rang. He answered. “Yes.” Then, he listened. “Understood.” He hung up and a growl shot out of him.
Here we go…
“What was that about?” Addison asked.
“Just work.”
“We figured that,” Brit replied.
“The Alphabet Killer took out his fifth victim,” Z said.
The lifeless faces of Kurt and Kayleen loomed large in her mind.
“But we’re not talking about work,” he said. “I need to tell you something.” A long pause. “I got a call from your mother.”
Brit’s stomach dropped.
Oh, no.
“I don’t have a mother,” Brit bit out.
“Tell us what happened, Dad,” Addison urged.
The server returned with their small salads, offered ground pepper or parmesan cheese. After filling their water goblets, and refreshing their wine glasses, he left.
Z and Addison started eating. Brit stared at the freshly cut vegetables drizzled in homemade Italian dressing like it was a bowl of worms.
Forcing herself to eat, she pierced a piece of romaine, slipped it into her mouth.
“Your mother called me last week,” Z explained. “She said, ‘Hello, Philip, it’s Liliana, your ex-wife.”
Brit put down her fork, glanced around for the ladies’ room.
“Britain, do you have a stomach ache?” Z asked.
“That obvious, huh?”
He placed a warm, comforting hand on hers. “Honey, it’s someone we used to know. She’s not in your life, and you don’t have to let her back in.”
“What does that mean?” Brit asked. “Have you?”
