"We actually ran into Ethan Walters while we were out and about," Kelly replied. “He mentioned he's running for mayor."
The effect of Ethan's name on Rob was immediate and fascinating. His posture, already straight, somehow became even more stately. His chest expanded slightly, and his chin lifted in a subtle display of pride.
"Ethan's campaign is going extremely well," Rob announced, a bit too loudly. "He's polling twenty points ahead of his closest challenger."
"I'm working on his campaign as an advisor," Rob continued. "We've implemented some innovative outreach strategies that are really connecting with younger voters while maintaining our base."
Kelly's eyebrows rose in apparent surprise at this revelation, her water goblet pausing halfway to her mouth.
"I didn't realize you and Ethan were friends.”
"We've known each other for a long time," Rob replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I helped Ethan with hisapplication for college since he wanted to go to where I went. I gave him some advice. It wasn't a big deal. Now he and I are on the board of the county's small business association."
Despite saying “it wasn’t a big deal”, it clearly was to Rob. His expression was one of supreme smugness.
"Ethan has a bright future," David Bateman interjected, setting down his coffee cup with deliberate precision. "Though I've told Rob that I think Baldwin Erlich still has a lot to give this town. Ethan should wait his turn."
The pronouncement came with the weight of absolute certainty, as if David Bateman's opinion on Bergen's political succession was the final word on the matter.
"Dad has a point about respecting tradition," Rob acknowledged, though Ben noticed a slight tightening around his eyes.
It was the first hint of disagreement he'd seen between father and son.
Interesting.
"That's the problem with kids these days," David continued as if Rob hadn't spoken. "They have no respect for tradition. No patience. Everyone wants to be in charge before they've earned it."
Ben wondered how Rob would react to any sort of criticism from his parents, but he didn’t get a chance to find out. Trevor’s parents entered the room, flustered and out of breath, apologizing profusely for being late.
Celia and Trevor hopped to their feet to greet them, and Ben could feel Kelly physically relax next to him.
Did the Batemans behave differently when people outside the family were present? Either way, he hoped that Kelly was out of the line of fire.
At least for today.
Awkward. Just plain and agonizingly awkward.
Kelly had attended her fair share of uncomfortable meals in her life, but the others paled in comparison.
Trevor’s parents were, in a nutshell…a nightmare.
Marjorie, the mother, wasn’t happy about anything. She wasn’t happy about the restaurant, the menu, the waiter, the weather, the rehearsal dinner, or the wedding. She wasn’t happy about the honeymoon, either, but had grudgingly conceded that since she wouldn’t be going, it probably didn’t matter.
It had been all Kelly could do not to fling herself across the table and shove a pristine white table napkin in Marjorie’s mouth so they could all get at least a short break from her complaining.
Was her life truly that awful?
The father, Howard, had barely spoken ten words since they’d arrived, but from what Kelly could see, this was the norm. Marjorie spoke, and Howard nodded. Trevor nodded, as well, even as his bride-to-be cringed in her chair at the criticism Marjorie wasn’t bothering to hide.
In a way, Kelly sort of admired it. At least, Marjorie was all out there with it and didn’t bother with any of that passive-aggressive bullshit. If she didn’t like something, she didn’t hide it.
And she wasn’t bothering to hide that she didn’t think much of Celia. Or at least Celia’s taste in dresses, food, flowers, and music. Whether she liked her future daughter-in-law as a person was up in the air.
Honestly, it could go either way.
“I’m sure it’s going to rain Sunday,” Marjorie said, waving a waiter over to refill her water glass. “It would have been better to have the wedding in the autumn, like I suggested.”
Celia’s smile dimmed slightly, but she didn’t say a word. Good thing, because Marjorie wasn’t done.
