such a good surgeon and real-estate investor. How nice. Is this the part where I mention that I can recite almost every line of the first Lord of the Rings movie? My qualifications and his are polar opposite. I don’t have much to add to the conversation.
“I can see why you would like Washington,” I say, deciding to agree with everything she says to make it easier.
Nora’s sister talks of vineyards and benefits and a symphony that they had to wait a month to see. I nod along, and Nora adds a few words here and there. This Stausey, she’s quite the talker. I clear my plate and fill it up again, finishing it all. When I’m done, Nora asks if I’m full, and the second that I nod yes, Stausey stands up from the table and brings back a cake. It’s good: marshmallow icing and marbled chocolate cake.
I ask Nora if she made it, and she nods. “This is the best cake I’ve ever had,” I say not once, but twice.
“Sophia is the best baker, isn’t she? I used to think she was crazy for turning down medical school. It’s such a difficult program to get into, and she had a way in. I thought she was crazy, saying she wanted to go to cupcake school.” Stausey’s tone could pass for passive-aggressive at best. She delivers the blows with such a sweet smile, you would never know what hit you.
But Nora knows, rolling her eyes at her sister. “Looks like the family is doing just fine with one less surgeon.” Her plate is empty in front of her, and she’s on her third glass of wine. Or was it her fourth?
I don’t want this evening to turn sour so fast. I want everyone to be as comfortable as possible, and of course I want her sister and her husband to get the best impression of me possible. The energy in the room is growing tense, and I can feel the four of us walking on a tightrope. One slipup, and we all fall.
“She’s a good chef, yes.” I take a page from Leo as Gatsby and raise my glass to my lady. Nora’s gaze turns to me, and she pulls her lower lip between her teeth. “It’s pretty impressive what she can do. My roommate, Tessa, works with her and told me she’s the first pastry chef that’s been promoted so fast.”
I continue to talk Nora up. I remember her annoyed reaction when I referred to her as a baker before.
Todd speaks first. “That’s awesome, Soph. I knew since you were a girl you were a hell of a cook. Remember when you had that little oven and would make cakes all day?” He takes a gulp of red wine and looks between Nora and me. “One time she got me to give her twenty bucks! For one cake!” Nora’s brother-in-law looks at her with pride. This is good. He must be a decent guy if he’s willing to admit that he’s impressed with her, as he should be.
“Always sneaky,” I tease, poking at her thigh. She reaches for my hand under the table, and I weave my fingers through hers.
“Her and my brother used to get in all kinds of scamming business ventures,” Todd continues. “They once asked me to buy them a little cart to sell their stuff out of.” Todd’s gifted with being able to remember parts of Nora that I would love to be a part of.
I take another drink of wine, knowing I wouldn’t dare to ask for another glass when I finish this one. “How long have you known Nora?” I ask, but Stausey answers.
“Since she was ten. He met her about when we started dating. We were high school sweethearts.” Stausey holds her husband’s hands and he looks at me. I remember Nora telling me about his little sister who she made friends with—Pedra was her name? But she didn’t mention his brother. Did I mishear her?
“Yes, but it took us a while to figure that out,” Todd adds, reminding Stausey that they aren’t perfect, despite her seeming need to be perceived that way. I don’t know her well. I don’t know why I’m judging her at every turn. If I hadn’t looked at her Facebook, how I would think of her?
“Stausey and my brother were very close,” he says, eyeing me.
Stausey kisses her husband’s cheek. “So were we. Ameen and I were inseparable since the day we met.”
Nora’s thumb rubs circles into my hand, and I wish I could have a few minutes alone with her. I want to ask her how I’m doing, how she’s doing.
“When do you go back to Washington?” I ask whichever of them wants to answer.