Or maybe I was being too sensitive. Chris’s mother was a dermatologist. Her face was like a glossy ad—smooth brow, taut lips, jawline like a razor. Impossible to guess her feelings from her expression.
I pulled out my best parent-teacher conference smile. “Hi, Dr.Harris. And Dr.Harris.”
Call me Pamela, she did not say.
Chris’s dad nodded vaguely. “Anne, is it?”
I’d been dating their son for more than two years. “That’s right. Nice to see you again.”
“Ah. Yes. Did you get a drink?”
I waved my glass, sloshing champagne. Oops. “Thank you, yes. And this is for you.” I offered the fudge to Mrs.Dr. Harris.
“How thoughtful.” She took it and stood a moment, awkwardly, before handing it to a passing server. I felt like Honey dropping a well-chewed tennis ball at the feet of someone who absolutely did not want to play. “Would you put this someplace safe? Chris, dear, it’s time for us to sit. They’re going to start serving in a few minutes.”
“Mom, Anne just got here.”
“So she did.” Her ice-blue gaze rested on me. “Don’t worry. We’ll fit her in somewhere.” She beckoned to a server. “Another place setting at table eight, please. There.” She tucked her hand in Chris’s arm. “All taken care of.”
Chris hesitated.
“Your father would like to say a few words before dinner,” she said.
“You go,” I said. “I’m fine.”
Relief crossed his face. “I’ll find you after.”
“Sure.”
I found table eight in the farthest corner of the room, wedged next to the piano and the service entrance. I exchanged awkward introductions with my tablemates: an elderly physician from the hospital and his almost silent wife, three residents about my age, who either did not speak or were wisely pretending not to understand English, and a large woman in pink silk—Chris’s aunt—with her adult son, Bill. I took the only empty chair, next to the chinless cousin.
“Red or white, sir?”
The physician scowled. “Bring me a Scotch.”
“Let’s all have a Scotch,” Cousin Bill said.
“I’ll take a cosmo,” his mother said.
I smiled at the server. “Red. Thanks.”
The large lady—Chris’s aunt—leaned forward. “Don’t be silly. My tight-ass brother paid for an open bar. We might as well take advantage. Two cosmos.”
At the center table, Chris’s father stood to give a…blessing? Toast? Speech? I couldn’t quite make out the words over the clink of dishes. Also, he was hidden by a flower arrangement the size of a bush. But the cosmo was pink and delicious, so I raised my glass and smiled at the residents and checked my phone.
Mom:Stay safe.
Typical Mom. Was she imagining me stranded by the side of the road or warning me about the dangers of the Big City? Or maybe she thought this whole trip was a mistake. Maybe she was right.
But at least she was showing she cared.
Daanis had sent a picture of Rose sleeping tush up and tummy down in her crib. No message. I bit my lip. I should never have made that stupid comment about Daanis giving up her dreams. I’d begged for her forgiveness. But how could she forget?
I responded with a heart emoji.Miss you, I typed and took another sip of cosmo.
There was a photo from Hailey, too, a shot of the wash sink piled high with dirty pots.Wish u were here.
I felt a flash of homesickness for them all. For my people.
