Chapter 60
I glanced at Josh. His face was deathly white as he looked down at his plate. Next to him, Lawton looked completely oblivious as he listened to Lauren Jane chatter about her latest trip to Cancun.
I tried to catch his eye. Why, I had no idea. What could he do? What could I do? Should I spill it? Pretend to faint? Grab Josh and run for the car?
But Lawton never even looked in my direction.
Slowly, I let my gaze drift to Loretta, who'd resumed her seat and sat with her hands steepled in front of her. Our eyes met, almost like she'd been watching for my reaction.
I knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted me to freak out. I'd look like a total idiot, especially in front of a guest. This posed an even bigger question. Would she make Josh eat it in front of company?
This shouldn’t be a big deal. I was blowing things out of proportion. It'd be fine. Maybe.
Slowly, the dishes starting making their way around the table. I took a little of everything, even the cranberry sauce, which I'd never liked.
So far, the gravy was just sitting there, uncirculated and unmentioned, except for Loretta's introductory remarks. But the longer it sat, the more tense the table became. I could feel it in the air – anticipation, dread, or in my dad's case, probably a mixture of both.
And then, someone reached for it.
Lawton.
He picked up the gravy boat and surveyed its contents. "You said oyster gravy, right?" He took a big, whiff of it and grinned. "My favorite. Did you know, my great-grandma, she was a fishwife on the Detroit river, this was her specialty too?"
I snuck a glance in Loretta's direction.
She bared her teeth in a pale imitation of a smile. "How nice."
Lawton shrugged. "Not really. She stunk like fish something awful. But man, she made the best gravy."
As I watched, he ladled a scoop onto his mashed potatoes, then kept going, one ladle after another. Loretta hadn't made a whole lot, probably because only two people were expected to eat it. Soon, the entire gravy bowl was empty.
Lawton's eyebrows furrowed. He looked toward Loretta. "This wasn't all of it, was it?"
Loretta sat, her back straight and her eyes narrowed. "I'm afraid it was."
Lawton looked down at his plate. "Oh jeez. I'm sorry." He held out his plate toward Loretta. "You want mine?"
"No," she said. "That won't be necessary. But thank you."
"Oh well. More for me." And Lawton started digging in.
I watched in absolute horror, and more than a little admiration, as he started to devour everything on his plate, gravy and all. In mid-bite, he looked up. "You guys are eating too, right?"
Suddenly, it occurred to me how incredibly rude we were all being, watching him eat like some kind of zoo animal. I grabbed my fork and started eating too. Soon, Lauren Jane and Josh followed suit. Finally, with a shrug, my dad joined in.
He looked at Lawton. "Boy, you sure have a good appetite," he said.
"Can't help it," Lawton said. "I never eat this good at home." He offered up a conspiratorial grin. "And if the tabloids are true, I have two French chefs."
According to the tabloids, he also had a pet leopard and a dick the size of Texas. Only half of that was true.
And it wasn't the leopard.
My dad dug into his plain mashed potatoes. "Two chefs, you say?" he boomed across the table. "Lucky me, all I need is Loretta."
I slid my gaze in Loretta's direction. Her fork still rested by her plate. Slowly, I realized I wasn't the only one looking. We all were.
"Gee Mom," Lauren Jane said, "aren't you gonna eat anything?" She rolled her eyes. "You're not on another diet, are you?"
"No," Loretta said through a clenched jaw. "I'm not on a diet."
"Then dig in, honey," my dad said. "This is some darn good eatin'."
I turned to stare at my dad. Was it Talk-Like-a-Cowboy Day or something? This wasn't the way he usually spoke, even in front of company. Usually, his grammar got better, not worse, even with his volume turned way up.
Unless – was this for Lawton's benefit? Was this my dad's way of trying to sound tough? It might've made sense, except for one thing. Lawton wasn't a cowboy.
Lawton grinned at me. He leaned back and rubbed his stomach. "It shore is, ma'am. Mighty thanks."
I glanced at his plate. It was empty. Oh my God. He'd actually eaten all of it. The man deserved a medal. Or a stomach pump.
Loretta pursed her lips and made no response.
"Gee Mom," Lauren Jane said, "aren't you gonna say 'you're welcome?'" Lauren Jane leaned her head close to Lawton's and said in a loud whisper. "Parents can be so rude."
Loretta was looking daggers at her daughter. "So can daughters," she said.
Lauren Jane smirked. "Well at least I say you're welcome when someone thanks me."
Loretta cleared her throat. "Lawton, I apologize. Of course, you are quite welcome.'"
"See?" my dad said. "Now honey-bun, was that so hard?" He pounded his fist on the table. "Now what do you say we rustle up some dessert?"
I stood. "I'll get it."
And then, remembering what happened last time, I froze in mid-motion. I looked toward Loretta. "Unless you'd rather?"
She waved her hand loosely toward the sideboard. "Go ahead. Whatever." She reached up to rub her temples with both index fingers. "I give up."
I retrieved the dessert dishes and started to serve everyone a slice of cheesecake and a piece of apple cobbler.
Lawton waved the dessert away. "None for me, thanks."
"You sure?" I said. Didn't he want something to wash away the taste of fish barf?
He nodded and reached for his nearly full water glass. He downed it in one long, gulp. Concerned, I reached for the pitcher of ice water and refilled his glass. He looked up, meeting my gaze. "Thanks, dumplin'."
I snickered and then caught myself, turning it into a poor imitation of throat-clearing.
"Oh you," Lauren Jane said, giving Lawton another playful swat to his arm. "How come you never call me dumpling?"
"Stop it!" Loretta said from her end of the table. "I don't know what's gotten in to all of you, but I've just about had it."
My dad's brow wrinkled. "What's wrong, Sugar Cube?"
Loretta glared at him. "I. Am. Not. Your. Sugar. Cube." And then, as if remembering herself, she gave him an stiff smile. "Alright?"
My dad held up his hands in mock surrender. "Woah. Hear ya loud and clear, chief. No more sugar cubes." He looked around the table. "Got that, everyone?"
"Oh for Heaven's sake," Loretta muttered, reaching for her wine glass.
"So," Lauren Jane said to Lawton, "you and my sister are just friends, right?"
Her sister?Just friends?
Although Lauren Jane and I had been stepsisters for years, I barely knew her. Funny too. The more I knew her, the less I liked her.
Across the table, Lawton grinned at me. "Chloe? You wanna answer that one?"
I smiled back. "Not particularly."
Lauren Jane's brow wrinkled. Again, she turned to Lawton. "So how'd you two meet? Was she your waitress or something?"
Lawton leaned back in his chair. "Nope."
My dad gave another slap to the table. "Don't be shy, son. Go on. Tell us how you two met."
Lawton looked at me. "Chloe, you wanna tell the story?"
My mouth opened, but no words came out. What story should I tell? The one where I saw Lawton kick two guys' asses in the parking lot where I worked? The time I showed up on his doorstep, soaked and looking for a dog that wasn't even my own? The time I fell half-naked over his fence?
"Never mind," Lawton said, leaning forward. "Lemme tell it."