We push through the glass double doors and he pulls me to one side. I crane around the doorframe. I can see his family. I raise my hand to wave but he tugs me back and scolds me unintelligibly.
“It’s a buffet.” My delight is evident in my voice. “Look at those croissants, plain and chocolate. Quick, there’s not many left.”
“I am going to appeal to you one last time. Let’s just go. Things went pretty well yesterday, family-wise. Let’s cut our losses.”
“And what, screech out of here like Thelma and Louise?”
“They all loved you.”
“I’m immensely lovable. Josh, come on. Croissants. I’m here with you. No one will hurt you as long as I’m here. I’ve got my invisible paintball gun. Take me in there, feed me pastry, and then drive me back to your pretty blue bedroom.”
He presses a little kiss to my lips. I look over my shoulder at the reception desk.
“Come on, be brave. Forget about your dad and focus on your mom. Be a gentleman. I’m going in.”
I weave through the room and I have no idea if he’s following. If he’s not, this is going to be a little awkward.
Chapter 27
At the table by the window sits Elaine and Anthony, and Mindy and Patrick. Everyone stops talking when I approach. I wave like a dork. Everyone looks surprised.
“Hi.”
“Lucy! Hello!” Elaine recovers first and looks at the table. Oh. There are no spare chairs. We’re barely five minutes late. They clearly weren’t expecting us to turn up. Josh is dawdling, thankfully.
“Quick, quick!” I start looking around at other tables.
“More chairs,” Elaine gasps. She understands perfectly. If he walks over here and there are no seats for us, he’ll shrivel up.
Anthony sits at the daddy-end of the table and continues reading his folded up newspaper. No wait, medical journal. Jeez. He makes no indication he’s aware of any other people in the room.
There’s a great deal of shuffling and I manage to borrow spare chairs from a nearby table. By the time Josh arrives with a plate of croissants and a cup of tea, we’re all sitting as casually as we can, trying to slide the plates back in front of their original owners.
“Good morning,” everyone chimes.
“Hi,” he says cautiously, and puts the plate and tea in front of me. “I got you the last ones.” It’s a plate filled with croissants and strawberries. He strokes his hand down the side of my neck.
“Sweet of you. Thanks.”
“I’ll just get something,” he says, and retreats. Elaine watches him, part sad, part amused, and looks at Anthony.
I smile at Mindy to show I’m not upset anymore. I probably have a nuclear post-orgasmic glow. She tentatively smiles back.
“How do you feel, Mrs. Templeman?”
I didn’t put too much thought into the question, but the words Mrs. Templeman make her physically jolt. Maybe I’m excepti
onally empathetic, but I feel like I’ve dropped a bombshell. The words ring in my ears, off the walls, right through my bones.
Mrs. Templeman. How primal, indeed.
“Wrecked. I’m so tired I feel like I’m dreaming. But in a good way.” She breaks into a smile and looks at the tablecloth.
“Mrs. Templeman. It sounds so . . .” She covers her face with her hands and sighs and laughs and dorks. Get out of my head, Mindy.
“Sorry we took a smaller table,” Elaine begins, but I shake my head.
“It’s okay. I had to use my lasso to get him down here.” I mime swinging a rope over my head and the women burst out laughing. The men sit silently, reading and eating.