Mom gives Brody a wink, telling me they spoke more than I assumed they did at the grocery store. “I saw that, Mom.”
I swat at Brody. “What are you not telling me?”
“It’s nothing,” Mom says. “Stop it. You’ll see after dinner.”
Marco returns with the open bottles of wine, making this a dinner that will likely never end. “Is there a problem with my finest wine?”
“Bud, she said no to your wine. That seems to be the only problem right now,” Brody says.
“Who turns down a three-hundred-dollar bottle of wine? Two for that matter?” Marco continues.
“Hey, Polo, is that your name? I was going to keep quiet and pretend like you didn’t stalk my girlfriend down the street recently with an inquiry to go out with you, but I know for a fact she said no to you that night too, and if I were you, I would figure out what the word means before I write up a little story about you on Yelp. Are we clear?”
I’m staring at Mom because I don’t want to look at Brody or Marco for the sake of staying out of the confrontation I don’t have the energy for. However, Mom is blushing and fanning herself with some kind of enjoyment in what is playing out two feet away.
“I apologize, sir. I had no idea Journey was bothered by me. I assure you, I will not bother her again. However, I might suggest finding another location to dine.”
“You dick,” I shout. “I had no clue we were coming here tonight, but if I had, I would have warned my mother and—” is he my boyfriend? He just referred to me as his girlfriend. Is this happening right now? Am I committing? Screw this. “My boyfriend is the reason why this restaurant only looks good in the photos displayed in the local dining magazine. I said no. I said no three times, in fact, and you felt the need to continue your pursuit through a phone call to meet you about edited photos you already received and accepted as final. Considering how few restaurants are in this area, I’m aware of what a simple word can do to your business, but by the looks of the dozens of empty tables, it appears someone has already beaten me to the gossip line.”
Brody’s mouth is hanging open with shock and Mom is grinning even prouder than she was when Brody was going at the guy.
“I—I apologize for whatever you are misconstruing as inappropriate behavior,” he says.
I raise my brows, giving him a sympathetic look as I grab my phone from my bag. I touch the Yelp app, search for the restaurant and tap the little one-star square to add a review. “I think I’ll use a title like this: ‘Home-Wrecking-French-Cuisine-Wannabee-Owner’.” I tap my finger on my chin before typing anything more. “Oh, andI know … here’s a good review: The only truth about Chez Tru is the desperation to serve more than just food on a plate. The overrated entrees, poor representation, and the plates come with smaller than normal portions, which seem to be a theme well matched to Marco a.k.a. home-wrecking owner. I highly advise against visiting this new cliché hole in the wall that will surely be bankrupt due to the lack of patrons and/or health-code violations.”
“Journey, I apologized. Please don’t take it out on the restaurant. I’ve invested so much into starting this business. Honestly, I would be heartbroken to see my hard work go to waste.”
I stare at Marco, debating my choices: the high road or the I’m not letting him do this to any other poor girl road. I click submit on my review and place my phone down. “I will have the duck confit,” I say. “And water, please.”
“Same,” Brody says, covering his mouth.
“That sounds lovely,” Mom follows.
Marco’s nostrils flare and he walks off with his hands behind his back. “How was this woman still available?” Brody asks Mom. “You have done a fine job raising this girl.”
“Well, thank you, Brody. I tried to get Journey to filter her thoughts for quite some time, but her father constantly reminded me, the world needs more honesty and that’s what you get with her. I sometimes wish I had the nerve to be as outspoken, but thankful she can be that person for me when needed.”
“Every day, you surprise me a little more. That’s what I like the most about you,” Brody tells me, taking my hand and holding it between his on top of the table, in front of Mom, displaying the truth we both feel.
Dinner was no longer awkward, nor did we see Marco again before leaving. The food was actually fairly decent, but no one should support a pig like him so the review will stay.
The three of us left the restaurant, cheerful and satisfied with a night that turned out better than expected. “Oh, one-second, Journey. I need to give you something.”
I almost forgot.
Mom unlocks her SUV and takes a brown paper bag out, handing it to me. “Your father wanted you to have this on a special date, and your birthday is still too far away, but I realize tonightisa special date because I get to see my daughter happy for the first time in far too long. This sentiment is the first of many you will receive throughout your lifetime, so follow the message Dad left for you.”
24
I am holdingthe paper bag safely in my hands. As I stare out the windshield of Brody’s truck, I realize my mom didn’t seem interested in watching me find whatever is inside. I’ve noticed this more lately since Dad passed away. Some things she avoids at all costs. She knows what will set her off, and she fights the pain like she’s in a solo war against the world.
“You have to open it,” Brody says. He has zero intentions of moving the vehicle before I remove the contents of the bag.
“What if I want to open it alone?” It’s something I would normally do, but Brody has been slowly changing my normal tendencies into unchartered behaviors.
“What if it’s something you’ll want company for?” he presses.
“Didn’t you just fight the good fight about taking a “no” from someone?”
