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“Whatever,” he said, just like she'd said it a few seconds earlier. Making fun of her.
“Can I meet her?”
“If you like.” He led the way back to his table.
Up close, Kathleen could see a tiny bit of a resemblance-her nose was long, like his, and she was thin like him, too. She was prettier, though, than you would have expected Sam's daughter to be-not that he wasn't a handsome-enough man in his own hawky, severe way, but she had a delicacy about her features that definitely came from some other source.
Sam introduced Kathleen, and Joa
“Kathleen is here because she cares so deeply about the cause,” Sam said. “Have you figured out what it is yet, Kathleen?”
She shrugged. “Something about poor kids.”
‘”Something about poor kids’?” he repeated with a snort.
“Don't let him get to you,” Joa
A woman on the other side of Sam's chair cleared her throat, and he stepped back to include her. “Oh, excuse me. Kathleen Winters, Patricia Kaplan.”
“Also known as my mother,” Joa
Patricia held out a beautifully manicured hand, and Kathleen shook it, a little surprised. She hadn't realized Sam still saw his ex-wife socially. “How nice to meet you,” Patricia said. She was a handsome woman, an older version of Joa
“He said you don't have any furniture and you play soccer on the empty floor,” Joa
“It's not as crazy as it sounds. I didn't know how long I’d be there so I never really moved in. And with all that extra space-”
“Might as well play ball?” Joa
“I should have gotten a security deposit from you,” Sam said to Kathleen. “It just occurred to me you're probably destroying the floors. I’ll have to get them refinished.”
“They're fine.” She had no idea if that was true or not-she wasn't the kind of person who went around examining floors for scratches.
Several waiters converged on the table with trays of food.
“I should go back,” Kathleen said, and the women said goodbye.
Sam walked a few steps with her. Kathleen looked across the room. Back at her table, Jackson was shaking his head with an impatient frown at something the oldest brother was saying, and the middle brother was looking triumphant. Caro was smiling pleasantly at a distant wall sconce. The sister-in-law in black had completely turned her back on Kevin, who was playing with his fork, pushing down on the turned-up tines so the other end rose up like a seesaw.
“Have a nice evening,” Sam said and turned to go.
“Wait,” Kathleen said.
“What?”
“Don't you think it's a little weird?”
“What?”
“Hanging out with your ex-wife. People aren't supposed to go out with their exes.”
“Why the hell not?”
“It's just weird, that's all,” she said. “My parents are divorced and they can't stand each other.”
“Right,” he said. “Your parents. Those stellar examples of a healthy lifestyle.”
“People get divorced because they don't want to be together.”
“I married Pat because I enjoyed her company,” he said. “That hasn't changed.”
“Then why'd you divorce her?”
“That's the topic of a much longer discussion than I’m prepared to have at this moment,” Sam said. “Or probably ever, with you.”
“You don't have to be a jerk about it,” she said. “It was a legitimate question.”
“Good night, Kathleen,” he said. “I suspect I’ll see you soon.”
He put out his hand, but Kathleen just walked away without taking it. She didn't know why she was so a
She came over to the table and collapsed ungracefully into her seat. Her main course was already there and waiting for her, the chicken and rice steaming gently.
Kevin picked up his fork and said, “You were gone forever.”
“Long line,” she said and stabbed her knife savagely into the chicken breast.
V
So, what do we think?” Kathleen held the necklace up for general inspection.
Lucy immediately dropped her knitting and jumped up to look. She slid her palm under the chain and pulled it closer to her eyes. “Silver?” she said. “Or white gold?”
“Silver,” Kathleen said. “Which I happen to like.”
“I didn't say anything negative.”
“You were about to.”
“I think it's pretty,” Lucy said with a shrug, letting the necklace slip away from her fingers.
Kathleen brought it over to Sari. “What do you think?”
“It's beautiful,” Sari said. “So Kevin just up and took you to Tiffany's, huh?”
Kathleen put the necklace back in its velvet box and closed it with an audible pop. “Yep. He said, ‘You need a necklace,’ and right to Tiffany's, just like that.”
“Next time, point out you could use a new car,” Lucy said, sitting down and picking up her knitting. “See what happens.”
“Right to BMW,” Sari said. “Just like that.”
“Oh, please,” Lucy said. “No one drives BMWs anymore. It's all about the Audis. Or, if you're really cool, a hybrid.”
“I’d take a Lexus convertible,” Kathleen said. “That's what Kevin drives.”
“That's so open-minded of you,” Sari said as she carefully slipped a bunch of stitches from one needle to the other. “Being willing to settle for a Lexus.”
“What can I say?” Kathleen threw herself into a dining room chair and pulled the bowl of bagels toward her. “I’m a saint.” She started flipping through the bagels.
“Can you please just touch whichever bagel you're pla
“Maybe I’m pla
Sari said, “I have no life. That's why I get so much knitting done. Every night, while the two of you are out being social and having fun-and probably having sex-”
“Definitely having sex,” Kathleen said.
“I’m sitting in front of the TV, knitting. It's pathetic.”
“At least you're making something useful,” Kathleen said.
“Yeah,” Sari said. “I could probably knit this baby five blankets before it's even born. I could knit one for a king-size bed with the time I have.”
“You want me to ask Kevin if he has any great friends?” Kathleen said.
“Why? You think they need blankets?”
“No, I mean to date.”
Sari thought about it. Her needles clicked and their metal ends flashed. “Yeah, I guess,” she said after a moment. “Why not?”
“Make sure they're rich,” Lucy said to Kathleen. “If yours is rich, I think it's only fair that Sari's be rich, too.”
“Amen to that,” Sari said. “Hey, guys, either of you have any good ideas for a Halloween costume?”
“You going to a party?” Kathleen asked.
“No. I have to get dressed up for this thing we do at the clinic. Most of the kids are scared to trick-or-treat for real, so they come in costume and we hand out candy. Usually I just wear scrubs or something easy like that, but Ellen yelled at me for being lazy about it last year.”
“You could be a sexy cat,” Kathleen said.
“Or a very wicked witch,” Lucy said. “In one of those tight black dresses that lace over your boobs.”
“Or a sexy little French maid,” Kathleen said. She batted her eyes, her hand to her chest. “Oh, but, monsieur, madame-she weell find out!”
“Uh, guys?” Sari said. “I’m going to be handing candy out to a bunch of four-year-olds with autism. Call me crazy, but I really don't think I have to be all that sexy.“