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Those frowns—borderline scowls—I definitely believe.
“Yes, and we regret that.”
“Really…” I say, not even trying to hide my skepticism.
“Really!” Rhonda replies. “We shouldn’t have done such a dreadful thing. We know that now.”
“And which dreadful thing are you referring to? There are so many.”
“Oh, Perceval, please don’t be like this. We love you and accept your many interesting life choices. Including your charming face tattoo!”
I don’t even have a facial expression for that one.
“Yeah? Okay, well, it’s way too late for that. Just tell me what you really want so we can move this along.”
“We told you. We just?—”
“No! I’m so sick of this. I didn’t have to hear you out, but I came anyway, so what is it? Why am I here?”
“Nothing! Just?—”
“Tell me!”
“Sweetie, really, I don’t?—”
“Cut the bullshit! I’m not going to?—”
“We want to adopt you back!”
The table goes deathly still.
No one moves as those strange words echo around us. I think I heard them wrong, but the other stunned expressions indicate they heard them too.
A server must have been waiting for the worst possible moment to enter the room and approaches our table.
“Good evening. I’m Joan. Can I get you started with?—”
“A bottle of red and a bottle of white, most expensive you have,” Burt snaps. “And give us ten minutes.”
The woman stiffens before recovering with a tight smile. “Of course, sir.”
Paige and I shoot her an apologetic look as she turns away.
Yeah, sure. They’re just regular saints now.
“You want to adopt me back? What does that even mean?” I say, my stomach in knots despite my attempt at indifference.
“We want you to be our son again,” Burt explains.
I stare at them in numb silence. How do you even react to something like that?
Paige snorts a laugh
I suppose that’s one option.
“Are you freaking serious?” she cries. “You’ve treated him like shit our entire lives, legally disowned him, and extorted thousands of dollars from him. Why would you suddenly want him back? And even more important, why would he want that?”
They give her a hard look, and I brace for an explosion. We’ve rehearsed this script so many times:
