I nearly chokeagain.
Landon doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t defend Mel or scold his mother. He just sits there, holding that tension in his shoulders and tightness in his jaw that I’m beginning to realize never goes away, except maybe in a bourbon-induced slumber.
“And what did you say happened to your hand?” asks Kathleen.
“I cut it on broken glass,” Landon responds, his voice emotionless.
His mother shakes her head. “You have to be more careful, Landon. A few weeks ago it was the tree branch, and now the glass. I have no idea when you became such a klutz.”
“He’s always been like that,” says Junior, giving Landon a mean-hearted smirk. I can sense a rivalry between the two brothers by that look alone. “Remember when you face-planted on the basketball court in high school? Highlight of my year.”
“That wasn’t funny, Junior,” scolds Kathleen. “He almost lost a tooth.”
“I didn’tfall,” Landon says. “You tripped me, you asshat.”
Junior’s smirk turns into a full-on grin. “Sure, I did.”
I take the brief reprieve as my opportunity to cut in.
“Are you all ready to order?” I ask, setting down the last of the coffees in front of Nathan.
The table rattles off their selections, and I note them down, but as I collect the menus, my eyes linger too long on Landon’s bandage. He notices and quickly slips his hand beneath the table before shooting me an icy glare that spurs me into action, if only to make a hasty retreat toward warmer climate.
I breathe a relieved sigh when I’m out of sight of the Blairs. I have no idea if this is their normal dynamic, but it’s draining, and there’s no doubt in my mind that I’m going to sleep well tonight.
“About ready to dunk your head in a bucket of ice?” asks Jake, coming to stand beside me.
I blink at him in confusion. “What?”
“If Beatrice hasn’t given you a migraine yet, she will.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but it’s not Beatrice that’s the problem.” I tilt my head in the direction of the Blair table. “It’sthem.”
Jake gives a bitter laugh. “Oh yeah. Pure rays of sunshine, that family.”
“Are they always so…tense?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Kathleen Blair smile, though it could be the facelift. It’s too bad the forgotten Blair hasn’t made an appearance in a while.”
I frown at him. “Who?”
“Eli, the lesser Blair offspring. Doesn’t play nice with Nathan and Kathleen atall, hates everything about this club, and always makes for an interesting brunch. One time, drunk out of his mind, the dude literally kicked off his shoes, jumped on a chair, and started belting Whitney Houston. Nathan’s face turned the color of a tomato, and Kathleen looked ready to commit a murder. It was one of the better moments of my life, as depressing as that sounds.”
A part of me wonders if this is the brother Mel refused to let stay at their house, and I want to know more, but before I get the chance to ask, Ollie shuffles over to us with an annoyed look on his face.
“If you two are complaining, don’t,” he grumbles. “You’re not dealing with McCoy the Man-Child. I am.”
Jake pats him on the back. “That’s rough, buddy. Did they order the bottomless mimosas?” Ollie nods, and Jake winces. “Oof. Buckle up, man. They’re gonna be hereall day.”
He groans. “Kill me. Please. Take me now.”
I give Ollie a sympathetic pat, grateful I don’t have to deal with that group. “I’d better get back, guys. Good luck, Ollie.”
After stacking the orders for the Blair family, I deliver them carefully to the table. This time Nathan’s monopolizing the conversation, something about business and stocks that goes way over my head. Whatever he’s saying is interrupted by his wife, who snaps at me after I set down her plate.
“No, I asked forberrieson the side,” she says. “Not melon.”
“My apologies, Mrs. Blair,” I say, even though I have her request offruitwritten down verbatim.
