"Thankyou, no. I've eaten, and I'm all done."
So am I, Bryn thought, looking down at her plate and knowing she wouldn't be able to consume another mouthful.
"I'm...surprised to see you here," she heard herself say lamely.
"I've had a home in Tahoe for the last ten years," he explained. "I know all the spots where the food is really good and the service amiable."
"Oh," Bryn murmured. "They do serve delicious food. And they're very nice. They're always great with the...children."
"She means she's not embarrassed to bring us here," Brian volunteered.
"Brian!"
"Oh, I don't think your aunt is embarrassed to bring you places. It's just that some places are very accustomed to adults, but they don't understand how to feed children--or deal with them. But you know something, Brian? Most people who care about children tend to be nice people. So knowing that they're nice to you here makes me like the restaurant even better.''
"Do you have any children?" Brian asked, wide-eyed. Did Bryn imagine it, or did a flicker of the pain Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
that she had sensed pass quickly through his eyes?
"No, I don't have any children. But I would like to one day."
"A boy?"
"Sure, but I'd take a daughter, too."
"Are you really a red-skinned tom-tom player?"
"Oh, God!"Bryn breathed, frozen in absolute terror as she waited for an explosion of righteous fury.
There was no explosion. His eyes returned to hers, heavily laced with humor."A red-skinned tom-tom player?"
"Are you?" Brian persisted.
"Brian!" Bryn snapped. "I swear to God, I'm going to skin you alive...."
Lee turned his attention back to the boy and repeated the description one more time."A red-skinned tom-tom player.Hmmm. Yes, well, I guess in a way I am."
"You're Lee Condor, aren't you?" Keith asked excitedly. "Yes." He glanced at Bryn with amused reproach. "I guess your aunt forgot her manners, but aunts do that sometimes.'' "Then you really are an Indian?" Brian asked. "Real live," he laughed."Or at least half." Brian looked confused."Which half?" Bryn wanted to sink under the table and die; Lee laughed again and motioned to the waitress. "I think I'm going to order your aunt another drink, and then I'll explain." He glanced at Bryn. "Chablis, isn't it?"
She could only nod. She would gladly have downed the entire bottle if they would have brought it.
Lee ordered another wine for her, glanced at her with an upraised brow and ordered a Scotch for himself.
The drinks arrived quickly, and he sipped his while replying to Brian. "My dad is a full-blooded Blackfoot. But my mom is German. That makes me half Blackfoot and half German.
And all American."
"Oh, wow!" Keith approved. "Does your dad live in ateepee ? Does he have horses and bows and arrows and all those neat things?"
"Sorry. My dad lives in an apartment inNew York City. He's a lawyer. They live there because my mom teaches at a music school."
"Oh," Keith said, and his disappointment was evident.
"But," Lee continued, "my grandfather lives in ateepee during the summer. And he wears buckskins and hunts deer and lives by all the old ways."
"I wish I could meet him!" Keith sighed enviously.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Well, he lives in the Dakota Black Hills, and that's pretty far away. But I have a nice collection of old bows and arrows and Indian art, if your aunt would like to bring you by to see them some time."
"Oh, Aunt Bryn, could we?" Brian begged instantly.
"I...uh..."
"Oh, I forgot. I have tom-toms, too."
By now she was halfway through her second glass of wine, but it hadn't eased the desire to be swallowed into the floor one bit. She was certain that she was as red as the lobster being served at the next table, and she was completely lost for a reply. But it didn't matter, not anymore. Because Adam, who had an innate resentment against any man who claimed his aunt's attention, and who had been ignored throughout the preceding conversation, chose that minute to strike.
A large spoonful of pork fried rice went flying across the table.
"Oh, Adam!"Bryn gasped in horror. She didn't think to reprimand him further; she was too busy staring across the table as Lee picked the pieces of food off himself and wondering if she might still possibly have a job.
"Lee, I'm sorry.Truly sorry.Really." She stood up nervously and began to help dust the rice off the sleeve of his navy shirt. It was linen, she thought, feeling ill.Expensive, and hard to clean.
And then she couldn't help but remember the last time food had flown across a table; it had been the last straw. This was different, but...
Tears suddenly stung her eyes. She was inadequate. She couldn't handle disciplining the boys, and she couldn't give them all that they needed. She was suddenly on the defensive as she kept dusting his already dusted arm.
"He's not a bad child, he really isn't. He's just four years old, and he's lost so much__"