Bosko rolls his eyes.
“This is Stan,” I say.
Brie smiles politely. “Let me guess.” She eyes them both, pointing first at Stan. “You’redaddy.” She transfers her point to Bosko. “And you’repapa.”
Maeve jumps up and down and yells, “How’d you know?!”
“Because I pay attention.” She boops Maeve’s nose like I’ve seen her do to Lizzie, and Maeve giggles.
Stan says, “Maeve loves your class.”
“And I love having her,” Brie says. “She always has something insightful to contribute.”
“Maeve’s gained a lot of confidence these past couple months,” Bosko says to me, quietly so his daughter can’t hear. Then, as he tips his head toward Brie, he loudly adds, “Y’better keep this one.”
That’s what I’m trying to do. He has no idea how hard I’m trying.
I look meaningfully at Brie. “I intend to. She’s a shoo-in for the full-time position we need to fill next year.” I put my arm over her shoulders.
Brie stiffens beneath my touch. I immediately take my arm back.
Fuck.
FUCK!
Brie coughs out a goodbye to Maeve and her dads, and we head inside. It’s busy. Every stool at the bar is taken, a steaming bowl in front of each diner, and half the lanes are in use. I get all my waving andHey how you doings out of the way. With every one, I can tell Brie’s annoyance withme grows. I imagine my voice like nails on a chalkboard for her. I knew it would take time for her to open up, but she’s going in the wrong direction. I don’t get it, why spend time with me if she can’t stand me?
When we put on our rental shoes, I don’t know what to say. I’m growing impatient. It’s clear we need to have a real conversation and she’s not going to start it, so I will. But Soup’o’Bowl with her friends is not the place or the time.
On cue, Dev and Tess walk in together, chatting like old pals—a direct contrast to me and the woman I’ve spilled my heart to and had in my bed.
They bring their own rentals to a narrow bench across from us. Dev spreads out in the middle, and Tess body checks him to make room. Dev being Dev, I can’t tell if there’s something to his doting smile or not. Blue Ridge is small enough I’m not surprised they would knowofeach other, but Tess never overlapped with us in school.
“How do you two know each other?” I ask after we’ve greeted one another. Or, rather, after I’ve greeted both of them. Brie stands off to the side pretending to peruse the menu, which I can attest is not that interesting. The three laminated pages are almost exclusively soup. There’s one stew and a chowder, but they’re watery, almost like they’re embarrassed for being off-theme.
Brie lifts her hand in a poor imitation of a wave, then furrows her eyebrows as if she’s concentrating on whether to order the broccoli cheddar or the French onion.
“Dev’s sister was one of my best friends in school.” Tess smiles affectionately up at him.
“Sana, my youngest sister,” Dev adds with his trademark smile, and I remember Dev’s the oldest of fiveor six kids.
“We were roommates in college, and Dev helped us moveeveryyear.”
“I was always pack mule and chauffeur for those two anyway. Moving was just another version of that.”
He squeezes her shoulder, and pink tinges Tess’s cheeks. I look away, feeling as if I’ve intruded on an intimate moment. My gaze finds Brie, who’s missed the whole thing, concentrating on a spreadsheet on her phone.
Deflated, I go to the counter for something to do, opting to order the bar food I know is off menu.
“No soup for you?” Lois asks.
“Not today, thanks.”
I join the others at our lane, dropping a round of drinks on the table. With another glance at Brie, I make a show of stretching my arms.
“I’m already embarrassed for all of you,” I deadpan. “I don’t wanna brag, but I think it’s important you know I’ve bowled exactly twice” —I hold up two fingers— “in the last decade. So, I’m pretty good.”
Tess laughs, but it’s Brie I’m focused on. I don’t know if she even heard me as she busies herself with picking out a ball.
