Under the Table(9)
“I really take offense to men disrespecting women. Women are the original multitaskers, and men know it. I think strong women make them nervous, so they resort to the only thing they can fall back on—brute force. Where is the honor in that?”
“I’d be lying if I didn’t say how much I enjoyed you sticking it to that one guy.”
“My grandfather used to say, ‘Being male is a matter of birth. Being a man is a matter of age. Being a gentleman is a matter of choice.’”
“That’s pretty profound.”
“Isn’t that what all grandparents are supposed to be? Full of wisdom and life experience?”
“Yes, but I think people forget that these days. Or just don’t care enough to take the time to listen. My grandmother spent her last years telling us to stick her on a block of ice and set her adrift.”
“She wanted to die alone?”
“Nah, we think she just had a thing for Eskimo folklore.”
They shared a chuckle before his face got serious again. “In this particular instance though, I took their silence whenever you came into the room as them having to keep their guard up. Everyone who approaches me knows I can’t sell them the original program. It belongs to the government. And when you work with the government, they don’t take kindly to you working for anyone else. Corporate bigwigs get through the door under the guise of wanting something similar, but it usually ends up the same—they want me to do something that’s not only morally wrong, but also could get me sent to prison. I get when the government acts all secretive, but these people were from a pharmaceutical company. I seriously doubt they were worried about you finding out where they stash the erythromycin. My guess is that they wanted to find a way to circumvent HIPAA guidelines.”
He had such great wit for someone with an expert poker face. The combination was most likely dangerous as hell, but he was too noble to utilize it.
“I figured, if you were treated like an interloper, chances are the people that want the program had something to hide. You never said one word to them. For all they knew, you didn’t even know English.”
“You’re right! I was quiet the whole night. Looks like your sketchy meter was spot-on.”
His face clouded over with what she could only describe as melancholy. “I’m not always the best judge of character. I shouldn’t even be entertaining these requests.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
“I’m a little too trusting. I do much better when I can observe as an outsider.”
He had begun taking pots and pans to dry and put away as Zoey washed them. It reminded her of home when she was a kid. Ruth and Zoey would take turns washing when they were little. Once Ruth started painting her nails and bedazzling them with artwork, she only wanted to dry. Not long after that, the chore was handed down to their younger siblings and they were put on laundry detail.
“Where are you from?” Zoey asked, enjoying the company and the conversation.
“Born in Rhode Island, but did most of my growing up in the Virgin Islands.”
“That’s a pretty big switch.”
Tristan paused. “Okay, so this is the part where I’m going to make you unnecessarily uncomfortable. My parents died when I was three.”
“I’m so sorry,” Zoey said.
“It’s all right. Seriously. I barely remember them. Dense fog, drunk driver, they were together and it was quick, which is the best anyone can hope for when you think about it. My grandfather was retired military. Loved golf. My grandmother was a dedicated army wife who loved to entertain. Both hated the cold. They bought and ran a small resort right near a golf course in St. Croix. A glorified bed-and-breakfast, if you will. Most of our guests were cronies of my grandfather and their wives. It was quiet, peaceful. I spent my whole young life barefoot, learning golf, and helping maintain the property. My grandparents thought they had really made the leap into the twenty-first century when they got dial-up Internet. They would let me have access to it, but it’s not like I could do much. One time I tried to play a game online, I think it was Sonic the Hedgehog, and the thing froze for hours. My grandparents were so uninterested, they didn’t even notice.”
His explanation solved the mystery of why he seemed stuck in a time warp of manners, courtesy, and pleated pants. “I can see why after two years in New York, you still feel like a deer getting caught in the headlights.”
“Am I that obvious?”
She couldn’t tell if his behavior was that noticeable or she was just tuned into him. She felt the same level of protective instinct that she felt for her younger siblings. What Tristan Malloy had in years, he lacked in experience.
“I wouldn’t have guessed if you hadn’t told me,” she answered honestly.
They kept washing and drying the dishes together, quietly enjoying the smooth jazz still playing from the surround-sound speakers.
“How did you end up here?” Zoey asked.
Tristan put his dish towel down, crossing his arms over his chest, a faraway look taking over. He didn’t appear put off talking about it, but more like he wanted to get the chronological order of events correct.
“One of the regulars at Paradise Cove was a retired lieutenant colonel who was working for a government contractor. He was a good guy, loved to talk about technology. By the time I was sixteen, my grandmother made the announcement that I was done with homeschooling. After that I spent all my spare time trying to figure out everything I could about that computer with its dial-up, how to make it work better, faster.”