Kingston pulled into the driveway and cut off the engine. “I guess I can’t just stay in the car, can I?”
“No,” she said, his comment making her smile. While it was nice to see her parents, her mother could be overwhelming, a trait that seemed to be getting worse as she aged. “We’re in this together.”
He nodded and they both got out of the car, her parents’ custom-built home looming large in front of them—Mediterranean style with an arched doorway, fat white brick, and small arched windows on every side of the luxurious house. The circular driveway was made of light-pink concrete several shades lighter than the salmon-colored roof. But as beautiful as the house was, Anita never felt at home here. The five of them had grown up in a modest home in Maple Falls until Paisley graduated from high school. She missed that old house but knew her mother didn’t. They had started building this one midway through Paisley’s senior year. The day after graduation her parents had moved in.
“Ready?” Kingston looked at her.
She nodded. “Ready.” They walked toward the dark-stained door, the glass inserts glistening in the sunlight.
Kingston had barely knocked when the door flew open to reveal their mother standing there with a huge smile on her face. “Hello and welcome!” She held out her cheek for Kingston to kiss, and he dutifully did. “You look wonderful as always, dear,” she said. “As soon as I’m finished with Paisley’s wedding, we’re going to work on finding you a bride.”
“Can’t wait,” Kingston said, rolling his eyes as she turned to Anita.
“Hi, Mom,” Anita said, giving her a hug.
“Don’t you look... nice.” Mom looked her up and down as if she were taking inventory of Anita’s outfit, then leaned forward. “Those jeans are a tad tight, sweetie,” she whispered. “You should stay away from formfitting outfits. Flowy fabrics suit your shape better.”
She stepped back and opened the door wider to let themin. “I’ve got fresh coffee and mimosas ready! Your father is in the den. Hopefully he’s relaxing and not on the phone again. This is his weekend off. But I know how busy you doctors are, Kingston.” She laughed and threaded her arm through his. “Verybusy andveryimportant.”
“Do you need help with anything?” Kingston said as Mom led him away.
“Oh, I’d love for you to help me finish setting the table,” she said. “I want to know everything you’ve been doing since the last time we spoke.”
“Which was two days ago.”
“And I want you to catch me up on those two days.” She glanced at Anita, still hanging on to her son’s arm. “Please let your father know brunch will be ready shortly.”
While her mother and brother made their way to the kitchen, Mom peppering Kingston with questions, Anita fought the temptation to look down at her jeans. She didn’t think they were too tight, and in fact they were her most comfortable pair. But her mother never failed to give Anita fashion advice, and Anita never failed to ignore it.
Feeling a little sorry for Kingston and glad she wasn’t the one fielding her mother’s questions, she went to her father’s study, knocking on the door before walking in. Like everything else in the house, the room was bright, white, and airy, with caramel-colored inbuilt bookshelves lined with books, a fireplace with an expensive painting above the mantel, and a TV in a custom-built entertainment center that was the size of one of the walls in her cottage. The Golf Channel was on, and her father was dozing in his white leather recliner.
She looked at him for a minute, not wanting to wakehim up. Like Kingston, her father worked hard, sometimes too hard, and he had missed some important milestones in Anita and her siblings’ lives. She had never begrudged him that. To the contrary, she was proud of him. His patients loved his bedside manner, and he was an excellent physician, which meant he kept a full schedule. Despite that, he tried to be there for her and her brother and sister when he could.
How often did he get to nap like this? Not as much as he should, she suspected. She started to quietly leave the room so he could continue to rest, only to hear him say her name.
“Anita.” Her father was wide awake now. He had learned to wake up instantaneously during his internship in med school. Once he was up, he was always clearheaded. “I didn’t realize I had dozed off.”
“I’m sorry I woke you up. Mom said it’s time for brunch.”
“Good, I’m starving.” He pushed a button on the side of the recliner, and the footstool went down. He stood and slid his feet into his comfortable tan leather slippers. He was a tall man, an inch shorter than Kingston, and as a cardiologist he was mindful of his weight and fitness, the only exception being Mom’s brunches. “Today we’re having my favorites,” he said, making sure his emerald-green polo shirt was still tucked into his khaki pants that looked similar to his son’s. “Smoked salmon pâté with capers, olive salad, and liverwurst.”
Her stomach lurched. “That, uh, sounds great.” It sounded like a gastronomical nightmare. She hoped her mother had made something more appetizing for the rest of them.
Dad put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “It’s good to see you, Anita. You should drop bythe hospital and visit sometime. We can have lunch in the cafeteria. The food is surprisingly good.”
“Do they serve liverwurst?”
He sighed. “Fortunately, no, or else I’d eat it every day and ruin my heart and waistline.” He led her out of the den and into the grand dining room.
As with everything her mother did, attention to detail was on display. Even though today it was just the four family members, all Mom’s brunches were fancy enough to serve to the highest of society. Even her mother’s outfit screamed sophistication—a gray-and-baby-blue-paisley maxi dress, a gray cashmere sweater, and the pearl necklace her father had given Mom for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Baby-blue low-heeled mules completed the ensemble, and her chin-length hair was dyed platinum blond, even though her natural hair was the same shade of auburn as Anita’s.
“You’ve outdone yourself as usual, Karen.” Dad sat down and reached for the mug of coffee in front of him. “Everything looks great.”
Mom’s gaze darted over the table, as if she were searching for any flaws in her presentation.
Anita sat across from Kingston, noticing his harried expression. She picked up her cup of coffee and hid her smile as she took a sip. At least her mother wasn’t harassing her about getting married, although she was sure her time would come.
Mom picked up a salad fork and polished it with a napkin.
