Eddie steps up. Benton raises his face, sees Eddie, awards him a curt nod, then continues his conversation with Mrs. Allemand.
Eddie throws back the second martini in one long gulp. He will not be dismissed by the man who slept with his wife. He steps right up to Benton’s chair and taps one of his very broad shoulders. He feels brave, but he doesn’t want this to escalate into a physical confrontation, because Eddie will lose. Benton has him by six inches and forty pounds. At least.
And so Eddie tries to manufacture conviviality. “Benton Coe, is that you? I thought that was you, but then I thought, ‘No, my pal Benton lives in Detroit now.’ I figured you’d still be there, hanging out with Justin Verlander and Kid Rock.”
“Eddie,” Benton says. He takes a deep breath, then moves his napkin from his knee to the table and stands up to offer Eddie his hand. They shake. Benton’s grip is firmer than it needs to be, Eddie thinks. Maybe he’s trying to send Eddie a nonverbal warning. “Eddie Pancik, please meet my friend Edith Allemand. Edith, this is Eddie Pancik.”
Edith gives him a tight smile. “Charmed,” she says. She stands, but it’s not to shake Eddie’s hand. “I’m going to excuse myself for a moment, gentlemen. Thank you.”
Eddie is relieved to see her go. He says, “So I hear you’re back?”
“I’m back,” Benton confirms.
“For good?”
“For good,” Benton says. “I may take on projects elsewhere down the road, but for the foreseeable future I have more than enough work here to keep me busy.”
“How was Detroit? Did you meet a girl? Get married? Have a baby?” Eddie is shooting from the hip here, but maybe these questions aren’t so far-fetched. Maybe the reason Benton looks so old and tired is because he’s been up nights warming a bottle for a newborn! Or maybe he married someone much younger who wears him out in the bedroom.
“Detroit was work,” Benton says. Then, perhaps realizing how abrupt he sounds, he adds, “And the occasional Lions game.”
“Ah, I would have pegged you for a baseball fan,” Eddie says.
“I hate baseball,” Benton says. “Too slow.”
Hating baseball is un-American, Eddie thinks. But he refrains from saying anything uncharitable. He refrains from responding at all, which leaves him and Benton to swim in a sea of awkward silence. Eddie is waiting for Benton to ask how he, Eddie, is doing. And Benton—well, Benton is probably fighting the urge to do so. Or possibly, Benton is waiting for Eddie to tell him to stay away from Grace. But Eddie is going to let that particular elephant remain in the room for a while longer. He says, “I came to this party with my daughter Allegra. Hope is in college. She’s a sophomore at Bucknell.”
“Yes,” Benton says. “I’m aware.”
“You’re aware?” Eddie says. How could Benton Coe possibly be aware? Did Grace tell him? Are they still in contact? Did Grace send Benton the annual Christmas card? Or did Benton merely see Hope’s choice of college mentioned in the Inquirer and Mirror?
“Good for her,” Benton says. “She’s a smart kid. And now, Eddie, I have to excuse myself as well. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” With that, Benton Coe moves to the next table, where he stops to shake hands and chat with Hunter Bloch Sr.
Wait a minute, Eddie thinks. I’m not finished! But Benton, apparently, is. There will be no détente, then, no gentleman’s agreement that Benton will stay away from Grace. For all Eddie knows, Grace is planning to leave him for Benton tomorrow.
Eddie senses that Benton Coe and Hunter Bloch Sr. are talking about him. Hunter Sr. tosses his white lion’s mane of hair back and laughs. Laughing at Eddie’s expense?
Thank God he didn’t wear the fur coat!
Speaking of costumes, where is Allegra? Eddie pulls his phone out, which serves the additional purpose of making it seem as though he has a call to take that is far more important than this party.
His call goes right to Allegra’s voice mail.
Eddie hangs up without leaving a message and goes back to the bar.
JENNIFER
Jennifer decides to wait and tell Patrick what happened with Grayson Coker when they’re out of the house, on their way to Nantucket. This way they will be alone, in the safe cocoon of the car, and there will be no chance the kids will overhear. It’s a solid plan, but Jennifer still feels anxious. She doesn’t want to downplay what happened, because then Patrick will accuse her of making much ado about nothing. But if she explains it exactly as it happened, a confrontation between Patrick and Coke will be inevitable, giving Coke the chance to say that Jennifer was the instigator. Jennifer tries to reassure herself that Patrick is a supportive spouse. He will see it through Jennifer’s eyes. He will understand.
When they climb into the BMW and head out of the city, Patrick lets out a cowboy whoop.
“I can’t believe how great this feels!” Patrick says. He glances over at Jennifer. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Huh?” she says. “Yeah, of course.” Tell him! she thinks. He’s noticed the tension around her eyes. Tell him!
“I really appreciate you agreeing to do this when you’re so busy,” Patrick says. “I feel like you’re always making sacrifices for me.”
“Going to see your family is not a sacrifice,” Jennifer says.
“It’s not just this,” Patrick says. “You’ve been so patient with me getting the fund up and running. You took on a project you don’t necessarily want to do…”
“About that… ,” Jennifer says.
“That money is critical,” Patrick says. “I hate to say it, but we couldn’t make it through the holidays without it. But by spring I should be throwing fastballs and you can take a much-deserved rest.” He taps his hands against the steering wheel as Jennifer sinks back in her seat. She can only assume that Coke has not yet received the refund of his hundred-thousand-dollar retainer; Jennifer mailed it back to him on Friday. He will likely get it today, and that chunk of cash will vanish as magically as it appeared.
Patrick turns up the radio—Joe Cocker sings “Feeling Alright”—and Jennifer closes her eyes. She is beyond tired. She is exhausted—because she has been up the past five nights worrying about the conversation that she is supposed to be having with Patrick right now.
That money is critical. That money is critical, so critical that Jennifer considers calling up Grayson Coker to recant. Yes, she is that desperate. She can say she is sorry there was a misunderstanding and might they start again fresh?
What if he says no? What if he informs her that he has already hired another decorator? What if that decorator is Mandy Pell, Jennifer’s archnemesis? Of course it will be Mandy Pell. She will decorate the penthouse in a creatively formidable, evil way, and it will be featured in a six-page spread in Domino, and the next thing Jennifer knows, Mandy Pell will be credited with giving birth to the intimidation movement in decorating.