“Well, keep up with the singing, babe,” Philippe told her. “At some point, you might want to learn how to stay on key.”
“If you want to know the truth, buddy,” Cam said, “my daughter won first prize in the talent show at school, singing that song. Maybe you need to get your hearing checked.”
“I was being nice,” Philippe said. “Maybe people around here aren’t familiar with the concept.”
Eleanor had set the table in front of the fireplace. She lit oil lamps and put on a record, trying to imagine which of their limited selection might seem cool enough for a person like Philippe. When she put on Talking Heads, Philippe told them he’d played at CBGB a couple of months earlier. He kept talking about this person named David, which Eleanor finally realized meant David Byrne.
“So, I guess you didn’t hear what my big brother’s been up to,” Patty said. “He got elected to Congress. His Christmas card this year was a picture of him and the family at some big dinner in Washington, with Ron and Nancy.”
Eleanor said nothing, but Cam did.
“So what’s his platform?” he asked her. “The issues he campaigned on.”
“Here’s the wild thing,” Patty told him. “After all those years of making sure he didn’t get drafted and... shall we say... partaking of the white powder, Matt’s turned into thisrah-rahRepublican. He’s all about family values and the Pledge of Allegiance and increasing military spending.Just say no. You don’t want to hear what he has to say about women’s rights. It’s bizarre.”
“That must be difficult for you,” Eleanor said.
“Not really,” Patty told them. “It’s just politics. It’s not like my brother really believes any of that stuff. He was just trying to get elected.”
Toby came downstairs, wearing one of Cam’s T-shirts that he liked to sleep in. He was carrying his violin.
“I was wondering if you’d like to hear the Wieniawski Polonaise,” he asked them.
“How cute is that?” Philippe said to Patty, after he’d finished the twelve measures he’d learned so far. “We got to get ourselves one of those.”
“The boy or the violin?” Cam asked.
Eleanor waited until their two youngest children were in bed before serving the dinner. Alison had disappeared back into her room. After an appetizer course of avgolemono, Eleanor brought out thecoquilles St.-Jacques, served in real scallop shells bought for the occasion.
“Jeez, this looks fabulous,” Patty said, studying the shells set before them—four scallops per person. “I guess I forgot to tell you we’re vegetarian.”
“I’m not totally vegetarian, actually,” Philippe said. “I just don’t eat shellfish. Allergic.”
Because the main dish was off-limits, Eleanor figured she’d leave as much of the French-cut beans as possible for their guests. As Cam spooned a generous portion on his plate, she tapped his leg under the table, but he seemed not to have taken the hint.
Afterward, there was chocolate mousse with whipped cream. Another Julia Child recipe.
“Don’t get the idea this is how we normally eat around here,” Cam told them. “My wife just wants to impress you. She thinks if you saw our real life you might get the idea we were a bunch of backwoods hicks. Which we probably are.”
Patty scraped the whipped cream off her mousse and raised her spoon to her lips. From the kitchen, Eleanor could hear a sudden whoop from Toby. A moment later, Ursula was in the doorway.
“He got hold of the Reddi-wip, Mom,” she said, with a look on her face that combined regret and pride. Then Toby appeared, naked. His penis was covered with whipped cream.
“You know, Baby, I’m thinking we should hit the road tonight,” Philippe said to Patty, massaging his temples. Maybe the prospect of having a four-year-old of his own had lost some of its appeal.
Eleanor walked out to the car with them. “I wish you could have stayed over,” she said. “We were going to make waffles.”
“I can’t wait to tell Matt everything,” Patty said. “He still asks about you.”
There it was again. That sick, hollow feeling Eleanor got whenever she remembered that summer in Rhode Island. She stood in the driveway, watching their car disappear down the road, and a while after.
Later, in bed, Eleanor brought up Cam’s comments to Philippe.
“You know how embarrassing that was?” she said. “When yousaid what you did about me trying to impress them with the fancy food?”
“It was a joke, for Pete’s sake,” Cam told her. “But you’ve got to admit I had a point.”
“It’s true,” she said. “I did want to impress them. I guess there’s some part of me that still feels I should be doing something important with my life.”
