“Hopefully it means he’ll finally be rid of that horrible girlfriend of his,” said Miriam. “He keeps trying to break up with her, but every time he does, she cries, and he just can’t go through with it, poor thing.”
“Maybe he doesn’t really want to break up with her,” said Cleo.
“He most certainly does,” said Miriam. “She’s absolutely ghastly, as I keep reminding him. He’s just too nice, that’s his problem.”
“Sounds like he needs to grow a pair,” said Frank.
Miriam inhaled sharply as if she’d been struck.
“Humphrey’s a very sensitive boy,” she said. “Exceptional in many ways. There’s certainly nothing wrong with Humphrey.”
“The boy’s a red belt in martial arts,” said Peter.
“I was just kidding,” said Frank.
“He was just kidding,” said Cleo.
“Where’s that bread?” said Peter.
Frank glanced at Cleo, who had reverted back to staring at her lap. It was up to him to make nice, he gathered.
“So,” he said. “Cley mentioned you’re leading some kind of workshop for children?”
Miriam tipped her head back and laughed with an abandon that rang entirely false.
“I run workshops for healing your inner child. It’s a little different.” She turned to Peter, still giggling. “Did you hear that, Pete?”
Peter grunted an acknowledgment. He was distracted by a bountiful breadbasket winding its ways toward them, along with the tray of drinks. The server was still relinquishing his load when Peter snapped off a breadstick and speared it into the pat of butter.
“We just led a workshop for a tech start-up in San Francisco, and now we’re heading to New Haven. In fact, I’ve toured it all over the world. Last month we were in China!”
“That’s amazing,” said Cleo.
Frank noticed that Cleo looked anything but amazed by this. In fact, she looked deeply depressed. He took a long pull from his drink.
“You do the workshops together?” he asked.
“Mimi’s the brains behind the whole operation,” said Peter, demolishing a bread roll. “Now I’m retired, I can travel with her.”
“You’re like my groupie, aren’t you, darling?” said Miriam.
The breadstick Cleo was holding snapped between her fingers.
“Let’s order food, since you’re so hungry, Peter,” said Frank. He beckoned over the long-faced waiter. “A dozen oysters and a couple of the lobster seafood platters for the table. How does that sound?”
“Perfect,” said Cleo, inwardly relishing the fact that for once her father was not the head of the table. Frank was more successful than he had ever been.
“And guys, this is on me,” added Frank. “So please order whatever you want.”
“No, we couldn’t possibly,” said Peter.
“I insist,” said Frank.
“Absolutely not,” said Peter.
“That’s very generous of you, Frank,” said Miriam. “Thank you.”
“Mm,” said Peter sullenly.
“Frank has his own advertising agency,” said Cleo. “He’s the creative director.”
“Is that so?” said Peter.
“I work with a lot of media people myself,” said Miriam.
“It’s just a little firm,” said Frank. “But we’re growing fast.”
“He won a big award at the Cannes Advertising Festival last year,” said Cleo.
Neither Peter nor Miriam responded to this. Despite the earlier promise of an inquisition, Frank noted, they both seemed remarkably incurious about him or Cleo.
“And what did you do before you retired, Peter?” he asked.
“I was an engineer,” he said. “Construction mostly.”
“That’s how he met my mum,” Cleo said. “She was an architect.”
“A very fine one too,” said Peter.
“But now he’s terribly helpful to me, aren’t you darling?” said Miriam.
“I try to be,” he said.
“Not to mention hundreds of people in need of a safe space to heal,” added Miriam.
Peter looked at her with shy pride. “Tell them what that Chinese businessman said to you, Mimi.”
“Oh, they don’t want to hear about that.” Miriam raised her eyebrows at Cleo and Frank expectantly. Clearly, they were required to rebut. Cleo stayed steadfastly silent.
“Sure we do,” said Frank.
“If you insist, then,” said Miriam. “Really, what we were looking at in China were the ramifications of the one-child policy. There’s this entire generation of adults who all grew up only children, what has now been dubbed the ‘lonely generation.’ Many psychological studies show that only children exhibit higher degrees of selfishness, pessimism, and risk aversion than children with siblings. No offense, Cleo,” she added, looking pointedly at her across the table.
“Humphrey’s an only child too,” said Cleo.
“He’s a little different,” she snipped. “Anyway, this can really affect them as adults when they enter a work environment and are expected to be part of a team. So, my role is to come in and help corporations really look at how their employees’ childhoods are affecting their daily productivity by doing these interactive multi-day workshops where I really get into those early childhood wounds and start to heal them from the inside out.”
“Tell them what the man said,” repeated Peter.
“Well, at the end of this workshop, the CEO of the company comes up to me—and I’m telling you this man is richer than God—and do you know what he says? ‘Miriam,’ he says, ‘I have traveled all over the world meeting some of the world’s most influential thought leaders, I’ve even met the Dalai Lama, for Christ’s sake, but you have changed my life more than anyone I’ve ever met. Miriam,’ he said, ‘you are the first real genius I’ve ever met.’”
She paused to look first Frank and then Cleo in the eyes to ensure that they could feel the impact of her words.
“And do you know what I said to him? I said, Liu—that was his name, Liu—I’m no genius. I’m no world leader. I am merely a humble fellow traveler. And I am so honored to be on this journey with you.”
“They’ve invited her back twice next year,” said Peter.
Frank was afraid to look at Cleo in case he burst out laughing. Cleo, on the other hand, was having a fantasy of reaching across the table and delivering Miriam a sharp slap to the face. But if her childhood had taught her anything, it was to do the opposite of what she felt. “Sounds like they’re lucky to have you,” she said.
“It was the best thing we ever did,” nodded Peter.
“I’m the lucky one,” said Miriam, fanning her face with her hand. “To be given the opportunity to freely help another human being.”
“So these workshops are free?” said Frank.
“Well, no,” she said. “But it’s not about the money.”
“How much do they cost, then?”
“Their value can’t really be quantified in money.”
“They’re very expensive,” said Peter. “But worth it.”
“Peter,” said Miriam, shushing him. “We give a lot more than we receive.”
“We get a lot out of them too,” said Peter. “This time we got to travel all around northern China. We went to the Great Wall of China.”
“Now that was sensational,” agreed Miriam.
“That was the best thing we ever did,” said Peter.
“I’m afraid New Haven may be a bit of a disappointment after all that,” said Frank.