Beautiful Disaster 01

“I like Italian,” I smiled.

Parker drove to the restaurant at exactly the speed limit, using his turn signal appropriately, and slowing at a reasonable rate for each yellow light. When he spoke, he barely took his eyes from the road. When we arrived at the restaurant, I giggled.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re just…a very cautious driver. It’s a good thing.”

“Different from the back of Travis’ motorcycle?” he smiled.

I should have laughed, but the difference didn’t feel like a good thing. “Let’s not talk about Travis tonight. Okay?”

“Fair enough,” he said, leaving his seat to open my door.

We were seated right away at a table by a large, bay window. Although I was in a dress, I looked impoverished compared to the other women in the restaurant. They were dripping in diamonds, and wearing cocktail dresses. I’d never eaten anywhere so swanky.

We ordered, and Parker closed his menu, smiling at the waiter. “And bring us a bottle of the Allegrini Amarone, please.”

“Yes, sir,” the waiter said, taking our menus.

“This place is unbelievable,” I whispered, leaning against the table.

His green eyes softened. “Thank you, I’ll let my father know you think so.”

A woman approached our table. Her hair was pulled into a tight, blonde french bun, a gray streak interrupting the smooth wave of her bangs. I tried not to stare at the sparkling jewels resting around her neck, or those swaying back and forth on her ears, but they were made to be noticed. Her squinty, blue eyes targeted me.

She quickly turned away to look at my date. “Who’s your friend, Parker?”

“Mother, this is Abby Abernathy. Abby this is my mother, Vivienne Hayes.”

I extended my hand and she shook it once. In a well-practiced move, interest lit the sharp features of her face, and she looked to Parker. “Abernathy?”

I gulped, worried that she had recognized the name.

Parker’s expression turned impatient. “She’s from Wichita, Mom. You don’t know her family. She goes to Eastern.”

“Oh?” Vivienne eyed me again. “Parker is leaving next year for Harvard.”

“That’s what he said. I think that’s great. You must be very proud.”

The tension around her eyes smoothed a bit, and the corners of her mouth turned up in a smug grin. “We are. Thank you.”

I was amazed at how her words were so polite, and yet they dripped with insult. It wasn’t a talent she had developed over night. Mrs. Hayes must have spent years impressing her superiority upon others.

“It’s good to see you, Mom. Good night.” She kissed his cheek, rubbed the lipstick off with her thumb and then returned to her table. “Sorry about that, I didn’t know she would be here.”

“It’s fine. She seems…nice.”

Parker laughed. “Yes, for a piranha.” I stifled a giggle, and he offered an apologetic smile. “She’ll warm up. It just takes her awhile.”

“Hopefully by the time you leave for Harvard.”

We talked endlessly about the food, Eastern, calculus, and even about The Circle. Parker was charming, funny, and said all the right things. Various people approached Parker to greet him, and he always introduced me with a proud smile. He was regarded as a celebrity within the walls of the restaurant, and when we left, I felt the appraising eyes of everyone in the room.

“Now what?” I asked.

“I’m afraid I have a mid-term in Comparative Vertebrate Anatomy first thing Monday morning. I have some studying to do,” he said, covering my hand with his.

“Better you than me,” I said, trying not to seem too disappointed.

He drove to the apartment, and then led me up the stairs by the hand.

“Thank you, Parker,” I smiled. “I had a fantastic time.”

“Is it too early to ask for a second date?”

“Not at all,” I beamed.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Sounds perfect.”

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