Although my father and I didn’t often go to fancy restaurants, like most people who could manage it, we did so on occasion. He told me my mother could be comfortable in any setting. A restaurant like La Reserve or the River House did not intimidate her. “She looked like she belonged wherever we went,” he’d recalled, his own precious memories streaming before him. “I used to call her my chameleon, because she could just blend in. Not that she wouldn’t be noticed,” he’d added quickly. “She was too beautiful not to be noticed.”
The way he clung to anything that reminded him of my mother always impressed me. He was still sacrificing for her, thinking first of her and not himself. It occurred to me that this was what was missing from Christopher’s descriptions of his mother. If she talked about his father, it was only to explain the situation they were now in, how their romance and marriage had put them in this place, but she didn’t keep his memory as close to her heart as my father kept my mother’s memory. If she mentioned Christopher Sr., it seemed clear to me that she did it to manipulate Christopher Jr. more. And apparently, she was already having a serious new romance at the point we’d read to in the diary.
Would Christopher Sr., even for one minute, tolerate what she was putting their children through now? That was a question I wondered if Christopher Jr. would be able to answer for me, for us, even for himself.
I felt Kane’s hand take mine, and I snapped out of my reverie.
“Where’d you go?” he asked. “I finally realized I was talking to myself.” I leaned forward to tell him my thoughts, but he interrupted me. “Here they are.”
I turned to see Darlena and Julio enter the restaurant and start in our direction. I hadn’t seen his sister for a long time, but my memory of her was that she was very pretty. She looked taller and more elegantly beautiful and graceful now, her soft chestnut-brown hair floating over her shoulders, a stylish sweep of strands just inches from her right eye. The chandeliers captured the dazzle of her unique amber eyes. She had a svelte Nicole Kidman figure enhanced by her form-fitting half-sleeved black dress with a lace bodice.
Julio looked a little more than six feet tall. He had a dancer’s physique and seemed less comfortable in his dark blue suit. His ebony hair had a silky sheen. His more caramel complexion made his black-marble eyes stand out. I thought he was quite handsome but a little more rugged-looking than a typical male model.
Kane stood to greet his sister. Her face seemed to explode into a bright smile of delight. They kissed each other’s cheeks as if they had not just been together in their home but instead hadn’t seen each other for years. Julio looked awkward for a moment in the shadow of Kane and Darlena’s dramatic greeting, and then he rushed to introduce himself to me. I felt calluses on his palms and thought of my father’s hands. Darlena slid in beside me, and Julio sat across from her.
“You look so grown-up, Kristin,” Darlena said. “I love your dress.”
“Thank you. You look more beautiful than ever, Darlena.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you since . . . since when?” she asked Kane.
“Who knows?” he replied. “Probably before you started college.”
“No kidding. That’s true. How’s your father?” she asked me. “I do remember seeing him a few times during the summer. He was always so nice to me. He always reminded me of a Southern gentleman out
of some romance novel. I bet he makes every one of your friends feel special.”
“In his way,” I replied. “I can tell you he always makes me feel special.”
She held her smile, but her eyes were full of questions, surely about what it was like to live without a mother or to have a father whose wife had died so unexpectedly. I felt the urge to tell her we were fine.
“My dad’s in construction, too,” Julio said, even though no one had mentioned what my father did. “He builds modular houses for a national company. It’s dull factory work. He’d rather be doing what your father does,” he added quickly. “I work with him sometimes, and I know I’d rather be doing that.”
“I’d rather be in Philadelphia,” Kane said.
“Pardon?” Julio said.
“Nothing,” Darlena said. “He’s just being a wise-ass.”
“Moi?” Kane said, pretending outrage.
“What’s it mean?” Julio asked.
“It’s something my father loves to say. It’s on W. C. Fields’s tombstone,” Darlena explained. Julio still didn’t understand. His quizzical smile looked frozen on his face. Darlena touched his hand, obviously a gesture meant to comfort him. “It’s silly. Fields just wanted everyone to know he’d rather be anywhere than dead.”
“Oh.” He looked at Kane, who shrugged.
The waiter approached, and just as Kane had predicted, Darlena ordered a bottle of champagne. The waiter looked at Kane and me suspiciously, but he didn’t say anything.
Darlena giggled. “We’re on Daddy’s account tonight,” she said, smiling like a child told she could have anything in the store. “He told us on our way out, so go for broke.”
Julio smirked, seeming embarrassed to have Darlena and Kane’s father paying for him. “I told your father this was supposed to be my treat,” he said. He looked like he was saying it more for my benefit.
“Don’t make it harder for my father to sound like a big shot,” Darlena joked, but he still didn’t look happy about it.
I started to ask them both questions about college to get him more relaxed and talkative. Every once in a while, I glanced at Kane and saw a proud look on his face because I was carrying the conversation. The champagne came. The waiter brought only two glasses for it. We then ordered, and when he left, Darlena poured some champagne into Kane’s water glass and some into mine.
“Let’s toast to something different,” she said, holding up her glass. We all raised ours. “To Kristin’s father successfully building a beautiful new home to replace the Halloween house.”