Bobby bit his thumb, Margaret answering for him.
“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” she said.
Bobby looked away from the twins, toward Ben, just in time to see Ben put his arm lovingly around his daughter, Bobby noticing for the first time the child that wasn’t his.
“Who’s the kid?” he whispered.
Margaret hadn’t told him. I wasn’t going to break that news. Not when the rest of his world was unraveling before him.
Bobby didn’t want an answer, though. He was already reaching over and pouring himself some wine, not pouring any for his wife.
My father clocked that he ignored Margaret’s glass and took the bottle from Bobby, pouring some for Margaret himself. Margaret smiled at him gratefully.
“Thanks, Dan,” Margaret said, taking a long sip. “This wine is really delicious. What are we drinking?”
“Concerto,” my father said.
“Soon to be Wine Spectator magazine’s ‘Pinot Noir of the Year,’ ” my mother said.
“One of Wine Spectator magazine’s ‘Pinot Noirs of the Year,’ ” my father corrected. “And I had very little to do with it. Lots of strong, warm weather. The fruit just presented itself.”
“To you,” my mother said proudly, my mother, who was pre-gaming with us, her real meal a few hours away. La Gare. 10 PM.
I must have been giving her a look, because she turned toward me. “What?”
Ben tapped on his wineglass with a spoon, all eyes turning toward him.
“Would it be okay if I said a few words?” he said, holding up his glass and directing the question to my father. “We are just so happy to be here.”
“Who’s we?” Bobby whispered.
Then the door swung open, a woman’s loud laugh making its way into the barrel room before she did.
“Is Finn bringing someone?” my mother said.
Which was when they entered, the loud-laughing woman and Finn.
The woman wore an outfit that matched her laugh. She had on a wildly short dress, her ample boobs falling out, the dress emphasizing her long blond hair, her longer legs. A real-life Barbie.
The twins and Maddie stared at her, mesmerized.
Finn held her hand, unsteady on his feet, slurring a little.
“Hey! I’m sorry I’m late. Bill didn’t show up for his shift.” Finn put his arm tightly around his guest’s waist, brushed those boobs. “I’ve brought my friend Alexis to make it up to you. Alexis, this is my family. Family, this is Alexis.”
She waved, leaning in closer to Finn. “Hi there,” she said.
My mother smiled, jumping out of her seat. “Hi, Alexis,” my mother said. “I’ll set a place for you next to Finn.”
My mother grabbed a woven placemat, plates for pot roast and pie, as Finn introduced Alexis around the room, finishing his introductions with the people he wanted to meet Alexis most.
“Alexis,” Finn said. “That is my brother, Bobby, and his wife, Margaret.”
He was rubbing her ass the entire time.
Bobby kept his eyes ahead of him, Margaret too.
Ben met my eyes, questioning what was happening. “You okay?” he mouthed.
I shrugged, at a loss as to what to do, watching Finn snuggling into his friend.
“Why don’t you two help yourself to the roast?” my mother said.
Alexis shrugged. “I don’t eat anything with a face. Except for shellfish.”
I stared at Alexis, ready to slap her, not for her statement but for being here at all. As though it were her fault.
“Alexis is actually a vegetarian,” Finn said.
Bobby laughed, but it was a mean laugh. Angry.
“Thanks for translating,” he said.
Finn looked at him, confused, uncertain why Bobby would be upset with him. He was oblivious that Bobby had found out about him and Margaret, too focused on his own asinine agenda: to move on from Margaret. Alexis was here for Margaret’s benefit. Bobby wasn’t supposed to know.
“Ben,” my father said. “You were saying?”
“What?” Ben said.
Ben’s eyes were still on Alexis and Finn, confused.
My mother touched his arm. “You were giving a toast, Ben,” she said.
“Right . . .” Ben raised his glass, trying to remember. “I was just going to say, I’m happy to be here. And I want to raise a glass to Dan and Jen for always making me feel like a part of your family, even when I haven’t deserved it.”
Finn laughed. “When was that?”
I pressed hard into his thigh.
“Ow,” Finn said. Then he raised his hand in mock surrender. “Just checking where we were on the honesty meter.”
Bobby shook his head. “Is that what you were checking?” he said.
“Eat,” my father said loudly, everyone looking at him. “Let’s eat.”
We all began eating, Finn keeping his hand over Alexis’s shoulder, groping her. Then he did the worst thing. He started to turn toward Margaret; Margaret, who was focused on her roast, shaking. Shaking in the face of Finn’s cruelty, of Bobby’s anger.
“Son of a bitch,” Bobby said.
Bobby dove for Finn, knocking him off his chair, the two of them landing on the floor, legs hitting chairs. Finn’s elbow knocking into the wall, crushing it.
Everyone was up from the table at once. My father moved toward Finn and Bobby, Ben moving to help my father. My mother and Margaret ushering the twins and Maddie away.
My father pulled Finn off of Bobby just long enough for Bobby to punch Finn in the face. Hard. The force of it pushed Finn back, leveling him, blood dripping down his face, through his cracked skin.
Finn held his jaw, shocked. His shock turned to anger, fueling him forward.
“Are you crazy?” Finn said.
“Screw you, Finn.”
The two of them were on top of each other again. Finn was on the offense now as much as the defense. He pushed Bobby through the front door, tumbling toward the lawn.
Finn tackled Bobby on the grass, the vineyard steps away, Bobby rolling over on top of him, ready to take another swing.
But Ben grabbed on to Bobby’s shoulders before he could, holding Bobby back and away, my father reaching down and pulling Finn up to standing. All of them stuck together.
Finn pulled away, straightening his shirt.
“What the fuck, Bobby?” Finn said.
Bobby, almost breaking loose of Ben, lunged at Finn again. But Ben grabbed him back. “What the fuck? You’re asking me what the fuck?” he said. “What about Margaret?”
“What are you talking about?”
“What about Margaret?” Bobby said.
With that question, Finn got quiet, aware that Bobby knew. He knew about him and Margaret. His eyes locked with mine, where I stood with my mother, two feet away.
“Don’t look at her,” Bobby said. “She has nothing to do with this. Look at me.”
Finn turned back to Bobby as Margaret ran outside, the twins and Maddie safely ensconced elsewhere. My mother put an arm around her protectively, not sure what else to do.
Bobby gave Finn a look, disgusted.
“You’re my brother,” Bobby said.
“Nothing happened, man,” Finn said.
“Oh, nothing happened? Okay,” Bobby said. “You’ve always fucking wanted her.”
Finn shook his head, laughing angrily. “Whatever, Bobby . . .”