living room is huge, the size of my apartment, and Stausey’s perfect specimen of a husband is pouring red wine into a row of stemmed wineglasses.
“I try to stay on this side of the bridge when we’re in town. Brooklyn is just so far,” Stausey huffs. Her heels click against the floor as we walk inside. Nora mumbles something about Miranda and Sex and the City, and offers me a drink.
I don’t know what to say, and I could use a glass of courage. Taking her up on her offer, I follow Stausey to the bar.
Chapter Twenty-four
THIS IS A QUITE AGED bottle of Château Moulin de Roquette, Landon. It’s from Bordeaux,” Stausey explains with a touch of a French accent.
I have no idea what she’s talking about. I’m assuming she’s telling me the type of wine it is? But I wouldn’t know the difference, anyway.
I nod and tell her that sounds great; it could be a bottle of $6 wine, for all I care.
Stausey’s husband comes around the bar and reaches for my hand. His outfit is much more casual than his wife’s. His dark jeans are worn, and he’s barefoot. His plain white T-shirt gives me the impression that he’s much more laid-back than I expected.
“Hey, man, nice to meet you.” He smiles—his teeth are amazingly white. “I’m Ameen, but you can call me Todd.” He shrugs and looks at his wife. “Or Ameen.”
“Sophia told us a lot about you. I hear your parents live right by ours. What a small world,” Stausey says, looking right at her sister.
So she calls her Sophia? Noted. “It really is.” I’m unsure what else to say. It’s a small world, Stausey, but you appear to live on the top of it.
I look around the room, taking in the grand piano and the modern furniture. Everything matches perfectly, from the decorative pillows piled on the couch to the painting hanging over the entrance to the hallway.
“Come”—Stausey grabs my hand—“dinner is almost ready.” She leads me to the dining room and sits me at the head of the table.
“Landon, come sit by me.” Nora pats the chair next to her as she sits.
I nod and go over to her. Stausey ends up sitting down across from me, and Todd sits next to her, across from Nora.
“Todd is the best cook,” Stausey announces to us as Nora fills up my wineglass. The food looks great: a roasted chicken with rice and every other starch known to man. Stausey kisses her husband’s cheek, and he gives her a smile of pure admiration. “Isn’t that right?”
I look at Nora, who’s staring down at her plate. When her eyes raise to mine, she smiles and bites down on her lip to keep her smile small. She grabs a pair of tongs from the center of the table and digs into the second platter, stacked high with vegetables.
“So, Landon . . .” Todd begins, being nice enough to initiate conversation since the rest of us don’t seem able to, though I do wish he wouldn’t have chosen the exact moment I stuffed a forkful of chicken in my mouth to do so. “Sophia says you’re studying at NYU? How are you liking it? I had a lot of buddies graduate from there.”
Nora takes another bite of her food, and I chew quickly so I can answer him. “I love it. I’m taking Early Childhood Education, so sophomore year is when it gets fun.”
Stausey chokes on her bread, and I reach for my water to calm my itchy throat. “Sophomore? I thought you were a senior at New York University?” Apparently, acronyms like NYU are below Stausey’s pay grade.
“No, I’m second year. I’m ahead by a few credit hours, but I just transferred from Washington Central after my freshman year.”
Nora stares at me with an unreadable expression, and Stausey turns to her, obviously confused. “Hmm,” Stausey lets out, and I catch her looking at my wineglass. It must be occurring to her that I’m not old enough to legally drink in their house. And now they have not only let in a random college kid living in Brooklyn, they’ve broken the law for him.
“I must have misunderstood.” Stausey looks pointedly at her younger sister. “Anyway, what do you think of New York? It’s a beautiful city, always something to do. Though sometimes I hate the crowds. We live back and forth between here and Washington State, and I love it there more.”
Nora tells me that her sister always moves, and Stausey says they’re lucky that her husband is