“Regan!” cried Charlotte. “What does that mean? And where’s Matt?”
“Yeah,” said Cord, sipping a Perrier. “Where’s ol’ Matt?”
“You’re always making fun of me,” said Regan. “I don’tknowwhere Matt is. He’s not in our cabin. I can’t find him anywhere!”
“Calmdown,” said Charlotte, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. She could hear her mother’s voice in her ear:Do not cause a scene and humiliate yourself.Her brain skittered helplessly, searching for words that would erase Regan’s unpleasant outburst. Charlotte had taught her children to look on the bright side! Or at least to be cheery in public spaces.
“I’m not making fun of you,” said Cord.
“Youare,” said Regan. “You don’t even know you’re doing it. Everybody thinks my life is a joke!”
“You’re hysterical, dear,” said Charlotte, patting Regan’s hand. “Keep it down, now.”
“I AM NOT HYSTERICAL!” cried Regan.
“Regan!” cried Charlotte, aghast.
The Perkins Family Meltdown was interrupted by the entrance of the Fun Times Dance Squad. The lead singer held a microphone and wore red sequined pants. He stood by the salad bar and waited for the dancers to assume position. Music began to play from unseen speakers, a hush fell over Shells Restaurant, and the singer brought the microphone to his lips. He threw his head back. “You’re simply the best!” he sang. “Better than all the rest!”
The waitstaff joined the dancers, creating a herky-jerky show. The singer intoned, “Stand up! Everybody stand up! It’s time for the Dinner Napkin Twirl!”
Rule-followers to the end, the Perkinses stood.
“Simply the best!” sang Lee, hoisting her napkin. “Better than all the rest!” It occurred to Charlotte that Lee might belong on a cruise ship.
Cord looked ill, his hand raised at half-mast. Regan mournfully mouthed the lyrics. The lights in Shells dimmed, strobes flashing on and off.
“Ooooh, you’re the best!” the ship’s performers sang as they paraded around the circular tables nimbly. “I’m stuck on your heart, baby!”
The Fun Times Dance Squad finished the Tina Turner tune with panache, falling to their knees and crying out, “You’re the best!”
The music faded and Charlotte sank, spent, into her seat. She picked up her menu. “Regan,” said Cord. “I’m really sorry you think I’m making fun of you. I think you’re amazing. I really do.”
“What?” said Regan.
Cord nodded.
“You know what feels great,” said Lee. “Is telling the truth.” She was staring at Cord for some reason, really staring. “We all love you, Cord,” she said.
“What are you talking about, Lee?” said Charlotte. “Of course we love Cord!” But her body knew: her stomach seized.
“Yeah,” said Regan. “What are you talking about?”
“Cord?” said Lee.
“What?” said Cord.
“Don’t you think everyone shouldtell the truth?” said Lee.
Cord made a weird, strangled sound. “Is something the matter?” said Charlotte. Lee’s words made her very nervous. Speaking oftruth,Charlotte needed to tell her children about her pornographic essay before she read it aloud in the Teatro Fabuloso.
“Is someone sick?” said Charlotte. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sick,” said Cord. “But honestly? Lee? I’d appreciate you shutting the fuck up, is what I’d appreciate.”
“Cord!” Charlotte felt as if she’d been struck.
“Actually, I feel sick,” said Cord, standing up. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” He strode out of Shells, and there was silence. Charlotte’s gut churned, but she knew how to spackle over confusion and pain. She’d been doing it all her life. “Will you look at this bread?” she said, her voice high and strained in her ears. “Look at this bread! It’s so delicious!”
