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The waiter ignored Alanna and Bellamy and went away. I watched as Vanessa cut her peppers into bite size pieces and made Pinterest-worthy doodads of stacked cheese and pepper bits. She didn’t actually eat any of them.
“Bellamy, tell us something about your family,” said Deb.
“My family is great. My dad is my hero. My mom is great too. She stayed home with us kids and always made us a nice dinner. Every night. She even made dessert. She sewed our Halloween costumes too. A real Betty Crocket. I couldn’t have asked for better parents. I’d like to have a family just like that.”
Hmm. I looked around the table to see if everyone else was onboard with Bellamy’s vision. No one’s face registered the panic I was feeling.
“Great,” said Deb. “What else?”
“That’s about it,” said Bellamy. He reached across the table. “Vanessa, do you mind if I eat your cheese?”
“Go ahead,” she said.
“Our next course is a belissimo fish soup,” said our waiter, kissing his fingers emphatically. He brought us each an overflowing bowl of the stuff.
“This fish soup is delish goop,” said Klassie.
“Mmm. God,” said Jessica, slurping away. It was running down her chin. “Ugh,” she moaned. She shook her head, grimacing. She rolled her shoulders, I guess to make more room in her stomach cavity. It was almost like she was in pain.
“I know. I know! It’s so good. Right? I told you it was great. I need to loosen my boots to make more room,” said Klassie.
“Please don’t,” said Vanessa.
I looked down and stirred my soup. Tiny chunks of fish were hiding beneath the surface. When I stirred, they all appeared at once. The fishy smell made me want to gag. I imagined myself gagging and puking in front of everyone. The cameramen would all zoom in on me. It would be captured from four different angles. I would be mocked on late shows for a night or two, and then disowned by everyone I’d ever known.
Calm down, said the voice in my head. It was all I could do to keep the words down, to keep them from slipping past my tongue and out into the world where everyone was watching.
The urge to cry was coming on very, very strong. I took a sip of water and tried to think about things that weren’t sad. Things that meant nothing at all. A stack of paper bags. A bottle of mustard. A bookshelf. A rusty car. I couldn’t help it; the tears began pouring down my face.
“Emma, what’s the matter?” asked Deb.
“Nothing,” I said. “Could you excuse me?” I got up and started walking. I wasn’t sure where I was going. Of course a camera man was right by my side. I ignored him and just kept
walking.
“Wait,” said Bellamy. I felt his hand on my shoulder.
“I’m okay,” I said. “You can go back to them. I’m just going through something weird. I guess I’m a little homesick. I didn’t mean to ruin your dinner.”
“You’re not ruining anything.”
“You can go. I’m wasting your precious time. I don’t want to do that.”
“You’re not wasting my time,” he said.
“Thank you for coming to check on me,” I said.
“Could you give us some space?” Bellamy said to the cameraman nearest us. There were two now. They both stepped back just a little.
I stopped walking and sat down on a bench by the water. “Thanks for bringing us here. It’s beautiful.”
“You’re welcome.” He sat down beside me and put his arm around me. I put my head on his shoulder and we sat like that for a while, watching gondolas go past. Across the way was a gelato stand. “Want some ice cream?” he asked me.
“Sure,” I said. I dried my tears and we crossed a tiny bridge, coming out next to the gelato vendor.
“What color do you want?” asked Bellamy.
“They all look good,” I said.
