All I Ever Wanted(51)

“Well,” Dad said, trying to smile. “My wife here…she…back when we were, ah, married…”

“Who wants bread?” Brittany, our chipper server, plopped down a basket in front of us. Even though I’d just eaten with Ian, I pounced on it, tearing off a hunk of the still-warm sourdough and stuffing it in my mouth. Almost as good as cake batter.

“Would you ladies like some?” Dad asked, wiping the sweat from his brow. He pried the basket out of my hand and offered some to Mom, who shook her head, then to Tanya.

“Who wants to order? Oh, should I bring more menus?” Brittany asked.

“You know, Brittany,” I said, chewing, “we need a little privacy.”

“That’s fine! Call me when you’re ready! My name’s Brittany!”

“We know,” Mom said icily, staring at her nametag. Brittany backed away.

“So what’s going on here, Toby?” Tanya said. Mom’s eyes narrowed even more. “I take it you didn’t want to just catch up.”

“Well, see, Eleanor and I…we…well, we’re thinking about reconciling. But she wants a little…closure, might we call it, El?”

“We might,” Mom said. “You see, Tanya, is it? You were sleeping with my husband when I was pregnant with our third child. Which I found quite…unsettling.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Tanya muttered, giving Dad an evil look. “You cheated on your pregnant wife? You shit.”

“Very bad of me, I realize that. I’m deeply sorry,” Dad babbled.

“Very bad, I’ll say. I would’ve strung you up by your balls,” Tanya said. Dad’s face drained of its last bit of color.

“But let’s not forget your own role in this,” Mom said. “You slept with a married man.” Each word was an acid-dipped razor. “Tobias said you knew he was married.”

“Yeah. I did. So sue me,” she said.

Dad stiffened. Mom stiffened. I grabbed another hunk of bread.

“I mean, I didn’t know you were pregnant,” Tanya continued, “and if I had, I would never have gotten near him. He said he was separated.” She nailed Dad with a look nearly as terrifying as my mother’s reptilian gaze and continued. “My husband died the year before. I was looking for a meaningless fling, had dinner with Toby here once, slept with him, and that was that.” She paused. “It wasn’t my proudest moment, but I was lonely. And I wasn’t married. Your husband couldn’t keep it in his pants. I think you should blame him.”

“Oh, I do,” Mom said. “Believe me, I do.” But she looked slightly daunted, perhaps realizing that the first stop on the Tour hadn’t been quite the trashy slut she’d imagined.

“So.” Tanya looked around the table at each of us. “Anything else?”

I couldn’t help it. I kind of liked Tanya. “Well, now, Tanya’s got a point,” I said. “You wanted to meet her, here she is. Can we be done? Is everyone happy now? Yes?” I glanced at the aging hippie, feeling more than a twinge of pity for her. “I think we’re done, Tanya. Sorry for this.” Then, in my need to make everyone on earth think well of me, I added, “I love your, uh…shoes.”

Tanya stood with great dignity and surveyed the three of us. Very deliberately, she picked up her full water glass and tossed the contents in Dad’s face. Then she snatched up the bread basket and the little bowl of chilled butter and walked out, right past Dave, who didn’t say a word.

My parents sat in silence. Water dripped off Dad’s hair and down into his collar.

“Thank you so much for making me stay,” I said. “I’m getting cheesecake. And you guys are paying.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ON MONDAY MORNING, I came into the office full of my usual sunshine and butterflies (or so I liked to think). I pretty much had the corner on the market for sunshine and butterflies… Pete and Leila were so wrapped up in each other, they almost had their own language, like children raised by wolves or whatnot. Karen was best left alone until after ten…it was only safe to go past her office if you were planning to toss in a hunk of raw meat or a double-shot cappuccino. Damien, of course, felt it was beneath his dignity to be cheerful. Fleur preferred to burst into the office, always ten minutes late, talking about hangovers and weekends in New York City and needing a smoke before she could reasonably be expected to function.

“Right,” she said now, barreling down the hall. “Cheerio, old bean. What’s the news?”

“Not much,” I said. Fleur was much friendlier when Muriel wasn’t around, something I’d noted and filed away. Mark and Muriel hadn’t arrived yet, hence the “old bean” bit. “How was your weekend?”

“Went out with a total wanker, Callie, you’d simply die if I told you.” She then proceeded to slay me by launching into a story about a man, a largemouth bass and a thong, but between her colloquialisms and nicotine buzz, I couldn’t quite keep up. Still, I nodded cheerfully when I guessed it was appropriate.

“So, Callie, it must be hard, seeing them together all the time. They’re really in love, aren’t they?” Fleur asked. Before I could find a way to answer that, she went on. “Anyway, I’ve been meaning for us to have a chat. You ever see that bloke? The vet?”