I have thought this many times during my employment: how nice it must be to live with someone who loves you when you’re old. The thought is chased by a sudden sense of urgency, and I reflexively think of Melanie’s dating plan for me. I really need to make a decision on the rest of my life. No pressure.
During the whole car ride to lunch, we laugh at Teddy. He improvs several different characters:
Eddie the Livestock Trucker (“Keep it down back there, you rowdy l’il cows!”)
Tedderick the Nervous Driver (“Oh my hubcaps, oh shivers, oh Lordy.”)
Prescott Providence the Bodyguard (I think he quotes Kevin Costner, but I’ll have to look it up later.)
“I was born for this,” he declares, tipping his chauffeur hat suavely at a pedestrian at the traffic lights. “I want to thank you for helping me find my life’s purpose.”
(His long thighs in that tweedy gray fabric are my new life’s purpose.)
“Our absolute pleasure,” Aggie tells him. Renata just grins and looks out the window.
Happiness fills the car, and it hits me that leaving Providence wasn’t hard at all; not when I was carried out, kicking and screaming. I’ve known so many Parloni boys, and this is the only one who cared enough to do that. I look over at Teddy’s profile; he’s looking in the rearview mirror, smiling at his bosses with unfakable fondness.
He put me back on the ground a while back now, but I feel like my heart has remained draped over his shoulder. It can’t beat in a normal way now. I hope he doesn’t notice my inconvenient crush. I will pray on my knees tonight that Melanie doesn’t notice it, because I’d be dead meat.
He looks over at me and a record player needle skips in my stomach. “You okay?” I have to laugh and shake my head, because the answer is: probably not.
Teddy stops the Rolls-Royce in front of an intimidating-looking restaurant. It’s in a building smothered in creeping ivy. “We have arrived at our destination, Snobsville,” he declares. Like the good little chauffeur he is, he jumps out swiftly and extracts Aggie first and she hangs on to his arm until she’s safely up the curb.
“Me now,” Renata yells at him. I open my own door and get out. From what I can see of the restaurant, I’m underdressed. Maybe Teddy and I can find a burger around here. “Famished,” Renata adds as she straightens her clothes and runs a veined hand through her hair. “Absolutely parched, too.” Hooking her arm into Aggie’s, they walk straight in, not looking back.
Teddy sheds the waistcoat with the “Hot Stuff” name tag and Frisbees his hat into the passenger seat before handing the car key to the valet. Now he’s standing there in those sexy trousers and a white shirt. As he loops a tie around his neck, he looks like a trendy young professional heading in for an expensive client lunch.
It feels like the light is reflecting off his new gold watch, straight through my chest, blinding my heart. He gives me a playful eye roll when he notices I’m watching. “I went to private school, I know how to do a knot.” The next knot he performs is on his hair.
“Being good-looking really does transition you into any situation.” I shake my head at the unfairness of it. I point through the glass. “Look at Renata making the staff panic. Whatever table they have for her, she won’t want it.”
“What’s the point of being old and rich if you can’t flex it?” He makes a fair point. We push through the front door. Behind my ear, he says, “Could you expand on how good-looking you think I am?” His hand slides on my waist.
“Theodore,” I yip and he just smiles like I told him anyway. There is definitely a table for four with a reserved sign, but two tables of two are being hastily reset.
“We’re sitting here. You two have to sit by yourselves,” Renata booms across dozens of well-dressed people eating their meals. “How very romantic.” Every single person lowers their cutlery and looks at me. I feel like every single loose thread in my outfit is visible. Renata isn’t done. “Ruthie, you can practice having a date before the real thing comes along.”
“The real thing?” Teddy repeats. “Pinch me. Last time I checked, I was real.”
“You know what she means.” I am neon pink with embarrassment. The entire silent room of diners watch, cutlery still lowered, as we weave through to our designated table. Teddy pulls out my chair and I ease down into it.
“This menu has no prices,” Teddy observes. “That’s not a good sign.”
“Your friends have advised us that they will be ordering for you,” the hovering waiter says. “Any dietary restrictions?”
“Just basic poverty.” Teddy is gratified when I laugh. He rubs his hands together. “Free lunch. Everything’s coming up Teddy. Is it weird that I’m kind of obsessing about my tortoise?” He sends a text. “Mel promised me updates.”
“Sometimes when I have a really sick one, I make excu
ses to go up and check it.”
He nods. “You’re the only one who knows how it feels. How come we can take them to the Reptile Zoo for free?” He nudges my foot under the table. “Who came up with the forms?”
“I just knew that they were endangered, so I made some calls and the zoo sent some people up to Providence. The forms were me, of course. Any excuse for more paperwork,” I joke, but he shakes his head at the self-deprecation.
“So you created the entire rehab program for an endangered species. By yourself. I bet your horrible Sylvia doesn’t approve.” He sees the answer on my face. “Mel told me you have to fund-raise. These Providence people have enough money under their couch cushions to fund the Christmas party ten times over.”
“It doesn’t matter.”