She pours a little in my glass and then some for herself. Tank brings out a beer for himself and one for Finn. He winks at me as he sits down.
There’s no conversation for a while as everyone digs in. It’s the most amazing sound for a cook when everyone is so absorbed with their food that they don’t even stop to talk. I’ve outdone myself on the meat sauce and the pasta is perfectly al dente.
“This is delicious, Emma,” Finn finally says around a huge mouthful of pasta. “You need to come around more often.”
“Yes, she should.” Claire sends a pointed look at Tank. “We’d be glad to see you anytime. That means bring her back, Tanner.”
When she says his name, it reminds me that I wanted to ask her about it. “How did he get the nickname Tank?”
Tank looks over at me, surprised. “Why didn’t you ask me that? I would have told you.”
“Because I want to ask your mom. She’ll give me the real story.”
Finn snorts. “It’s really not a story. He hit puberty and suddenly he hit like a tank. I had the bruises to prove it.” We all laugh at his affected expression.
“You’re hardly a small guy yourself. I’m sure you could handle it,” I respond.
“True but not so much when he was fifteen and I was twelve. The story you really should ask Mom to tell you about is his skills onstage.”
Tank drops his fork and glares across the table at his brother. “You really want me to tackle you right now, don’t you?”
“The stage?” I look back and forth between them. “Was he in the school play or something?”
Claire takes a sip of her wine and glances over at Tank. “He used to perform with me sometimes when I was singing in a cabaret. I used to practice the songs all the time so I’m surprised Finn didn’t know them, too. But Tank would sing with me. Once I realized he had talent, the theatre company cast him in a few small parts.”
“That was a long time ago, Mom.” Tank’s cheeks have a slight flush to them. He’s usually so nonchalant that I’m shocked he seems so bothered by this.
“Yes it was.” Claire looks wistful. “I always wished I’d had the money to hire a singing coach for you, or something. He had a beautiful voice, even in high school. Some boys lose their voice after it changes but not Tank.”
“Can we talk about something else now?” Tank looks mortified. “Let’s talk about Finn and his extracurriculars in school. Oh wait, he didn’t have any. Unless you count convincing girls to meet him under the bleachers.”
Finn acknowledges the insult with a grin. “Hey, that was extra. And it was definitely curricular.”
Claire puts down her fork. “Do I need to put you two in time out?”
“Okay, okay. So, how did you two meet anyway?” Finn takes a huge bite of his roll.
“Emma is a friend of a friend.”
Finn looks confused. “What friend? None of our friends are classy enough to hang with her.”
“I met Tank at the law office where I work. Actually, I know your father, too. He’s been really nice to me. He gave me some advice about college. How to get loans and grants and stuff.”
Silence descends upon the table immediately. Claire puts down her wineglass. “Their father? Maxwell Marshall? He’s back in town?”
There’s a sudden hostility in the air and I’m not sure how to answer. Tank and Finn seem to be having a silent conversation of some kind. Claire looks at me expectantly. There’s a note in the air that I can’t describe. This is more than just the usual post-divorce drama.
“Yes, ma’am. He’s a client of the law office where I work.”
She immediately looks at Tank. “This is why you’ve been so secretive lately? Oh lord, tell me that’s not how you got the money.”
Finn glances at me quickly before putting a hand on his mother’s arm. “Mom, we don’t want you to worry about any of that.”
She doesn’t answer and after a moment, gets up from the table. “Emma, I’m so sorry but I’m not terribly hungry anymore. I’m going to rest for a while.”
“Of course.” I watch as she disappears down the hallway leading to the back of the house. When I turn around, Finn’s watching me with narrowed eyes.
“I didn’t know it was a secret,” I mutter.