The nerve of Kevin turning up here. Could Jane not see this would be monumentally awkward? It’s like she has some weird Teflon force field around her lately. And to be fair, soccer-loving Kevinislooking a bit uncomfortable. But what can I do? Am I going to cause a scene in a restaurant? Storm out and leave my parents, or drag them out with me? No. No I’m not. As I take in Jane’s sleek ponytail, my resolve tightens.
As if she can sense my eyes on her, she looks over at me and shrugs, as if to say,What can you do?Anger rips through me.She could have said no.She steps back and ushers Kevin forward, and the server appears with another chair as we all shift along. As she sets another table setting, Jane is beaming like nothing untoward is going on.
My dad has sat down again and is studying his menu like it holds the secrets of the universe and he doesn’t dare lift his head in case he gets sucked into a black hole. Though I quite like the idea of being sucked into a black hole myself. My mom is staring at some fixed point over Jane’s head.
“Should we get some wine?” Jane says. “I think this is a cause for celebration, us all getting together like this.”
I want to groan out loud. My mom stares at Jane as if she can’t believe what she just heard.Welcome to the club, Mom.
Jane was chirpy like this sometimes when we were together. She was smart and thoughtful, but she had a habit of trying to see the positive in every situation. It’s like, since she started seeing Kevin, things have taken a bizarre twist out of left field. I study the menu, taking a leaf out of my dad’s book, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Kevin squeeze Jane’s leg under the table. I’m strangely unbothered by it. The pair of them have dug their own grave here.
My mom fiddles with her cutlery and clears her throat. “And what do you do, Kevin?”
“Real estate,” he says. “Tough job, but I’m man enough to do it. And I see some of the most beautiful houses in the world, which is a bonus.”
They’re like a couple of cheery chipmunks. If only I could flamethrower their nut store.
Jane beams at Kevin, then turns to my mom and dad. “Oh, the stories he tells me!” she says with a laugh.
And, for the first time, it occurs to me that Kevin isn’t an ogre; he’s just a sell-real-estate, play-soccer, drinks-with-my-buddies, do-that-for-the-rest-of-your-life kind of guy. Perhaps that’s what Jane was after? And for some reason, the sick dread that has been my companion for a lot of these meetings with Jane has faded away with my mom and dad sitting there looking as stunned as I am. At least it’s not just me wondering what the hell is going on.
My mom’s eyes meet mine, and she gives me the sweetest crimped smile I think I’ve ever seen on her face, like an apology and sympathy and I-have-faith-in-you all rolled into one, and my throat goes tight at the same time as it makes me sit up a little straighter. I can do this. I can be here with these awful people, make polite small talk, and live to tell the tale.
“I didn’t tell you I got a cat,” I say.
“Oh yeah,” my dad says, rolling his eyes, grabbing onto this topic like a man desperate for a life raft. “Not sure what it’s done for my bald patch.” He runs a hand over his head. He dozed off on the couch this afternoon and woke up to find Mr. Karen grooming his hair and purring in his ear.
“Well, I say I got a cat,” I carry on, warming to my story, “but really what happened is that Des adopted one from the shelter as a bizarre parting gift when he disappeared off to Korea.”
Jane frowns. “But you don’t like cats.”
“Yeah, well, there are a lot of things that I don’t like that I’m learning to live with,” I say.
My mom hides a smile behind her hand.
Jane opens her mouth, but Kevin dives in. “How exactly do you adopt a cat?”
Here we go: I’m actually talking to the guy. “You give it a home for acouple of months as respite against living in a cage until they can find a new place for it.”
“Solid,” he says.
“Sadie named him Mr. Karen because he’s like a Karen but male,” my dad adds helpfully.
My head snaps up as my mom’s head swivels to glare at him. Sadie told him that? Please tell me his mention of Sadie’s name was just a strange aberration that only my mom and I heard?
Jane’s eyebrows rise. “Who’s Sadie?” she says.
“James’s new girlfriend,” my dad says.
No. No. No!
What is hedoing? Sadie’s not my goddamn girlfriend. My mom’s hand tightens around her knife, and I hope desperately that my dad does not die in a small Italian restaurant on Nostrand Avenue.
As if the server can sense the degree to which the conversation at our table is going downhill, he appears suddenly and asks if we’re ready to order. I give my dad a warning frown, but his eyes twinkle at me, and I decide that I’m revising my opinion of him and my mom as easygoing people. They’re troublemakers. Perhaps particularly when faced with their son’s ex who has screwed him over. And shehasscrewed me over: I’m starting to appreciate by just how much.
When I glance at Jane, her face is red. “You have a new girlfriend?”
I say “Sadie’s my roommate” at the same time as Kevin pipes up, “Sweet. We can double-date. Jane’s always saying she never sees enough of you since you moved out.”
