THIRTEEN
By the end of the taxi ride, Nellie had pushed away the oppressive sensation of the frat guys’ touching her. It wasn’t too difficult; she’d long ago learned to compartmentalize the sorts of feelings they’d conjured in her. Still, she wanted to take a moment alone in the restaurant bathroom. She suspected she could use a fresh swipe of lip gloss, not to mention a spritz of perfume.
However, when she arrived, the ma?tre d’ informed her another woman was waiting at her table. “Shall I take your bag?”
Nellie relinquished the electric-blue-and-yellow Nike satchel containing her damp uniform, feeling like a rube. She wondered if she was supposed to tip him. She’d have to ask Richard; she was far more familiar with restaurants that featured a hostess offering oversize menus along with crayon packets for children.
Nellie was led through the bar area, past a silver-haired man in a tuxedo playing a grand piano, then through the high-ceilinged dining room. Her stomach clenched. Maureen was sixteen years her senior and a college professor, and here was Nellie, a slightly disheveled preschool teacher who smelled like a deep fryer.
This introduction couldn’t have come on a worse night.
But the moment Nellie saw Maureen, she exhaled. Richard’s sister looked like the photonegative of him. Her hair was cut in a classic bob, and she wore a simple pantsuit. She was peering at The Economist through reading glasses, biting her lower lip the way Richard always did when he was concentrating.
“Hi!” Nellie said, leaning over to give Maureen a hug. “Was that weird? I just feel like we are going to be sisters . . . and I’ve never had a sister.”
Maureen smiled and tucked her magazine into her purse. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”
“I’m sorry I look like a mess.” Nellie slid into the chair across from Maureen, feeling chatty, a side effect of the tension that had been brewing inside her. “I just came from work.”
“At the preschool?”
Nellie shook her head. “I waitress, too . . . or I did. I actually quit. I was just covering for a friend. I’m a little frazzled because I was worried I’d be late.”
“Well, you look just fine to me.” Maureen was still smiling, but her next words caught Nellie off guard. “And you’re totally Richard’s type.”
Hadn’t Richard’s ex been a brunette? “What do you mean?” Nellie reached for the bread basket. The last thing she’d consumed was a banana on the way to graduation more than ten hours ago. On the table rested a shallow bowl of olive oil topped with a floating purple flourish of vinegar and a sprig of thyme. She tore off a small piece of a roll and tried to delicately dip it without ruining the ornamentation.
“Oh, you know. Sweet. Pretty.” Maureen folded her hands and leaned forward.
Richard had said Maureen was honest almost to a fault; it was one of the things he most appreciated about her. Maureen’s remark wasn’t intended to sound demeaning, Nellie told herself—no one would consider being called sweet and pretty an insult.
“Tell me all about yourself,” Maureen said. “Richard mentioned you’re from Florida?”
“Um-hmm . . . But I should be asking you questions, like what Richard was like when he was younger. Share a story he wouldn’t have told me.” The roll was warm and studded with herbs, and Nellie gobbled another bite.
“Oh, where to begin?”
Before Maureen could say anything more, Nellie caught sight of Richard heading to their table, his eyes fixed on her. She hadn’t seen him since he tucked her into bed after her bachelorette party. Without hesitating, he bent down and gave her a kiss on the lips. It’s really okay, she thought. He has forgiven me.
“Sorry.” He gave his sister a quick peck on the cheek. “Flight was delayed.”
“Actually, you’re too early. Maureen was just about to tell me all of your deep, dark secrets,” Nellie joked.
As soon as Nellie spoke, she saw Richard’s features briefly tighten, then he smiled. She expected him to come back around the table to sit next to her, but he took the chair to Maureen’s right, diagonally across from Nellie.
“Right, all those controversial summers at the golf course at the club.” Richard shook out his napkin and placed it in his lap. “And there was that incident when I was elected vice president of the debating team.”
“Shameful,” Maureen joined in. She brushed a piece of lint off Richard’s lapel. It struck Nellie as a maternal gesture. Even though Richard was an orphan, at least he had a big sister who clearly adored him.
“I bet you looked cute in your preppy golf outfits,” Nellie said.
Instead of replying, Richard gestured for the waiter. “I’m starving. But first we need drinks.”
“Sparkling water with lemon, please,” Maureen told the waiter.
“Could I get the wine list for my fiancée?” Richard winked at Nellie. “I’ve never known you to turn down a drink.”
Nellie laughed but was aware of how this might sound to Maureen. Nellie had been concerned about the odor of grease. But had she smelled like gin when she greeted Richard’s sister?
“Just a glass of Pinot Grigio, thanks.” Nellie tried to cover her embarrassment by dipping the last bite of her bread into the tangy olive oil.
“I’ll have a Highland Park on the rocks,” Richard said.
There was a little pause after the waiter left, then Nellie blurted, “I came here straight from Gibson’s. Some idiot spilled a drink on me. My wet uniform is in my gym bag, so . . .” Was she babbling again?
“I thought you quit,” Richard said.
“I did. I was just covering for Josie. She landed her first commercial and couldn’t find anyone else. . . .” Nellie let her words trail off, unsure of why she felt the need to explain.
When the waiter brought their beverages, Richard lifted his toward Maureen. “How’s your hamstring?”
“Getting better. A few more physical-therapy sessions and I should be able to get back to my longer runs.”
“Were you injured?” Nellie asked.
“Just a pulled muscle. It’s been bothering me off and on since the marathon.”
“I could never run a marathon!” Nellie said. “Three miles and I’m done. That’s really impressive.”
“It’s not for everyone,” Maureen joked. “Just us type A’s.”
Nellie reached into the bread basket and pulled out another roll, then put it back, realizing no one else was eating any. She tried to discreetly brush away the crumbs around her plate.
“I enjoyed your article on gender stratification and intersection theory,” Richard said to Maureen. “Interesting angle. What’s the reaction been like?”
As they talked, Nellie nodded and smiled and fiddled with the beads on Jonah’s bracelet, but couldn’t find a way to contribute to the conversation.
She glanced at the surrounding tables and saw a flash of green as a waiter scooped up a credit card sitting atop a silver tray.
It made her think of the AmEx she’d dropped out the taxi window. By now that card was hopefully in the hands of a thief making the rounds at Best Buy and P.C. Richard. Or better yet, a poor mother stocking up on food for her children.
She was relieved when their server delivered their entrées so she could pretend to focus on her chicken and couscous.
Maureen seemed to notice and turned to Nellie. “Early education is so important. What drew you to it?” Maureen elegantly twirled her tagliatelle on her fork and took a bite.
“I’ve always loved children.”
Nellie felt Richard’s leg touch hers beneath the table. “Ready to be an aunt?” he asked Maureen.
“Absolutely.”
Nellie wondered why Maureen had never married or had children. Richard had told Nellie he thought she intimidated men because she was so intelligent. And, Nellie supposed, she’d been a mother to Richard already.
Maureen looked at Nellie. “Richard was an adorable baby. He learned to read when he was barely four.”
“I can’t take all the credit for that. She’s the one who taught me.”