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“Edward. Ms. Curtis,” Archie said in a cool, brisk tone like this happened to us all the time. When I would have let go of him, he tightened his grip, keeping me firmly next to him until the new place setting was arranged, then he pulled my chair out, putting me on the far side away from my mom and his father.
“Archie,” his father said with a frown while Mom shot me a reproachful look. “I wasn’t aware you’d been invited.”
“Well gosh, Edward, I’d have thought a family man like yourself would want to tell your son about your wedding plans—or maybe your divorce plans, or are you doubling up and getting a two for one?”
Oh boy.
“Good evening,” our waiter said before his father could respond. He set two wine glasses on the table for Mr. Standish and my mom, then filled them before leaving the bottle in a chilling bucket. “What can I get you two to drink?”
Archie cut a look at me. “Coke or tea?”
“Coke.” Hopefully that would settle the fresh knots in my stomach.
“Make that two,” Archie told the waiter. “And a farmer’s green salad for Frankie and a crab cake, she and I can share.”
“Of course, would you care to order your appetizers?” The waiter looked at our parents, but his father merely shook his head, and my mother reached for her wine glass. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Then the waiter was gone.
“Archie, you weren’t invited to this dinner, but since you’re here, you could at least have the grace to show the manners you were raised with.”
“Manners, those are more Muriel’s purview,” Archie said as he leaned back and put a hand on the back of my chair. The brush of his thumb between my shoulder blades helped. “You’ve always been the guy who wants to cut through the bullshit.”
Mr. Standish scowled. “Don’t make this a scene. I can just as easily cut you off.”
“Sure, go ahead. I don’t need your money. You forget, Grandfather still likes me.” Archie smiled as though he could have said more, but he didn’t, and the waiter returned with our drinks and a salad. Archie motioned for him to put it in front of me. “Go ahead and dig in, I know you’re starving, and it could be a while before we get to the main course.”
If we got that far…
He didn’t actually say it, but it came across loud and clear.
“The crab cake will be out directly, would you like me to go over the specials?”
I took a sip of my Coke as Archie and his father glared daggers at each other. Well, more like Archie’s dad glared at him and Archie wore a smirk. The knots in my gut had knots, and they were all doing a tug-of-war.
“Maybe that would help,” my mother said a moment before her foot impacted mine.
I managed to not snort my drink and set it down. “Yes, please.”
As the waiter went over the specials, my mother tapped a finger against the table. She was ticked. I was spoiling her evening. Guilt vied with a bit of vindictiveness. Maybe I shouldn’t be trying to get even, but I sure as hell hadn’t asked for this.
Nothing the waiter listed sounded like real food. It all sounded too fancy for words, and you couldn’t pay me to eat duck foie gras. Steak tartare was basically raw meat. The minute he mentioned charred octopus, I was pretty sure my appetite checked out.
Nope.
Nope.
And oh my god, no.
“The scallops are good,” Archie said. “We could split a plate of those and either the wagyu steak or the venison loin. Trust me, you’ll like them.”
I did trust him. “That sounds great.”
One by one, we gave our orders, Archie and I would be splitting the plate between us. Another server brought out the crab cake, and I unfolded my napkin—a black one, they’d replaced the white napkin with a black one since I had on a black dress—and picked up a fork. Maybe if I stuffed food in my mouth, I could continue to avoid this dreadfully uncomfortable situation.
After the waiter left, my mother pinned a look on me. “What happened to the lovely dress Eddie left for you to wear?”
“Maddy,” ‘Eddie’ said, and I did not gag on my food.
