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“You don’t have to worry about a thing. We’ve already practiced,” I tell Becky, though part of me is delighted by how the hostess’s address sounded. “You’re a natural, and you’re going to kick this whole thing in caboodle.”
“Who in this green earth uses the wordcaboodleanymore?” she replies dryly.
Elliot rests comfortably in her arms, wrapped around her neck and quite the charming tiny gentleman in a kiddie suit, complete with a tiny tie and fancy buttons. He’ll be getting hungry too, soon enough, and Becky has brought one of his food jars in the bag just in case the restaurant runs late with the order.
“Ido, so as not to soil our son’s vocabulary with words he shouldn’t be learning,” I shoot back with a grin. “You know he’s a magnet for all the bad words.”
“Yeah, it’ll take forever to get the f-bomb out of him… Way to go, Dad,” she jokingly berates me.
I shrug. “Hey, I didn’t even know he was in the room when I said it.”
“Yeah, great defense.”
“And there you go; you’re finally relaxed,” I chuckle.
But her humor fades as she remembers what’s about to happen. Fortunately, she is also a self-contained and well-calibrated woman, so any state of anxiousness will eventually subside as her mind automatically turns in favor of a solution. It’s a trait of Becky’s that fascinates me. I don’t remember ever seeing her truly panic—not in the time we’ve gotten to know each other, anyway.
“Okay, let’s do this,” she says just as the hostess brings us to John’s table then steps away with a cordial smile, patiently waiting for the introductions and the salutations.
As soon as he sees us, John lights up and jumps from his seat. “There they are! The fabled couple!” he exclaims and leans forward to shake Becky’s hand. “I’m John. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Connors.”
“Oh, please, call me Becky,” she replies, smiling.
“My wife, my soulmate, and the mother of this little bundle of raw energy,” I add, proudly standing beside them while Tamara and the kids also get up and come around the table to greet us.
“My goodness, he is gorgeous!” Tamara gasps, already melting at the sight of him.
Not that I can blame her. The kid has a natural way of kicking you right in the feels.
Elliot is notoriously shy around new people, so he stays close to his mother as we all shake hands and introduce our families to one another. I get to briefly meet Mark, Brian, and Sunny, the youngest and only daughter—all three kids bear a remarkable resemblance to their mother, but all three have inherited their father’s nose and toothy grin. Gorgeous kids, and well educated, too, yet I can tell they’re probably pretty influential and hardheaded when in their natural surroundings; I think they’re being polite because of the public setting. There’s something about Mark that tells me he’s usually the troublemaker. Brian is the middle kid; I doubt he causes much trouble without his brother getting in on the action first. Sunny seems like she’s out of this world and not fully related to the boys.
The mother, Tamara, probably dotes on her, but I see the glances the kids steal among each other. Oh, they’re in cahoots, all right. I suppose this means that Tamara has her hands full. I wonder how involved John really is in their family life.
“How old is Elliot?” Tamara asks as we all take our seats around the table.
The hostess brings over the menus, and a waiter makes sure we all have water-filled glasses and fresh orange juice in the pitcher at the center of the massive wooden table. Elliot is seated in a special highchair. He’s not really happy with the arrangement, but he’s not that fussy, either. He’s curious about these new folks he’s having to be around, and the piece of bread that Becky just gave him will keep the little tyke busy for a few minutes at least.
“He’ll soon turn three,” Becky says. “Our little man.”
“They grow up so fast, don’t they?” John smiles, practically melting at the sight of Elliot.
“Don’t even go there. It feels like yesterday that I first held him,” Becky replies.
I chuckle softly. “You looked so beautiful in your labor. My warrior queen…”
“Warrior queen,” Tamara sighs, jokingly rolling her eyes. “Did you hear that, honey? What did you say when I had Sunny, do you remember?”
John bursts into a hearty laugh. “Oh, yeah… Let’s not do this again, Momma Bear, you’re gonna wear yourself out for good.”
Gradually, the atmosphere around the table begins to flow into something warm and friendly. Tamara is the perfect mediator between John and the kids, and the kids do a fine job of keeping themselves on their best behavior despite the occasional skirmishes between the boys. It’s never anything serious, just kids’ stuff. I probably would’ve behaved the same. I probably did.
The brunch conversation is generally tailored around the sale of my company and John’s plans for an upcoming family holiday. I keep my and Becky’s future plans on the back burner, aware that the man is testing the waters and laying the groundwork for more detailed questions. I’m not an idiot. This is recon, and I intend to emerge spotless and victorious from the whole affair.
At one point, Tamara offers to take Elliot over to the pool, joined by her kids, as well. “He seems to like me enough,” the woman says, and she’s not lying.
“Tammy, Tammy!” Elliot exclaims as Becky gets him out of his highchair and gingerly hands him over to John’s wife.
Tamara takes him by the hand and gently walks him away from the water and over to the pool’s edge, while the boys race for the water, eager to sink their feet in. Sunny isn’t in such a rush, however, choosing to walk calmly beside her mother and Elliot, somewhat fascinated by the kid.
