“Amazingly,” Archie said without an ounce of niceness in his tone. “I can afford to go wherever I want and to take whoever I want with me. But let’s not bore our guests with finances. It’s rude.”
Her eyes narrowed and her lips compressed, then the tight expression washed away to a veneer of politeness. “Very well, then tell me how many are we hosting for your birthday party in a few weeks? Amanda’s girls are both seventeen and will be coming. I expect you to be nice to them. Either would make a great match.”
Archie rolled his eyes. “Not having a party.”
That surprised me, and I stared at him.
“Pretty much over parties…”
Mrs. Standish lifted a piece of her toast, then paused to stare at him. “Then you shouldn’t throw hooligan parties. And dear, you had best cover up that bruise before tomorrow.”
“I earned it,” Archie said with a shrug and cut into his food. “And my hooligan parties are a blast with the right people.” He cut a look at me, but it was brief, before he focused on his mother. “I’m going to do my birthday my way. So don’t worry about the party.”
Coop nudged my knee, and I glanced at him. He nodded to my food. My stomach was in knots. It smelled fantastic, but I wasn’t sure I could choke any of it down.
“Archibald…”
“Nope,” he said. “Not doing it, and I’ll be eighteen, so you can’t make me. If you want to throw a party so all your friends can congratulate you on having made it to the end of your sentencing and being free of me, go right ahead. I’m spending my birthday with my friends.”
I shoved a bite of the French toast into my mouth. It was a crying shame that I could barely taste it. Jeremy made the best French toast ever. But the rest of the meal continued in this same vein with Mrs. Standish making these very polite, if snide observations, while asking pointed questions.
At one point, she reminded me that the average student graduated with hundreds of thousands of dollars in student debt that could put a chokehold on my life for the next thirty years, and I might consider downsizing my expectations to something more reasonable.
I had no idea how I ate the food. It sat in my stomach like a rock. Archie kept trying to distract her, but she would only be dissuaded for a few moments. Coop got her when he brought up studying psychology because he had plenty of material on family relationships to do a dozen different dissertations, and his pointed look at her actually shut her up.
That lasted five minutes.
But it was enough time for me to finish my food. Now, I needed to make excuses to get out of there. “Thank you so much for breakfast,” I told her. “You really didn’t need to go to all that much trouble.”
“It was no trouble at all, Francesca. I am glad we were able to spend this time together.”
I wanted desperately to sayme tooand sound like I meant it, but all I managed was. “I appreciate it.” Which was a damn lie, but it was better than the alternative, which involved a lot of primal screaming. “But we need to go, I have a lot of homework to do…”
“Of course,” Mrs. Standish said, rising from the table. Then she reached over and pressed her cheek to mine as she kissed the air. “Always so good to see you.” Then, still gripping my hand, she said, “You know, it was good to see you, and I don’t get to see you enough. You and your mother should come to dinner this week. All of us together. It will be lovely. I won’t take no for an answer.”
Yep. That did it. I wanted to die.
“Muriel, Frankie’s got a really busy schedule,” Archie said smoothly, and he covered our hands and then disengaged me from her. I clutched at his fingers almost desperately. “Tell you what, we’ll have her let us know if she or her mom are free. Besides, I’m pretty sure you have at least three events on your calendar this week already.”
“I can always make time for your friends, Archibald. And I haven’t seen Madeline in even longer than the last time I saw Francesca. I’ll be sure to call you dear, and do let your mother know.”
Kill. Me.
“Thank you, Mrs. Standish.”
Archie rolled his eyes and turned. His exit from the room pulled me with him, and I dug my nails into his hand. Coop was a half step right behind us. Then we were out the front door and the cooler air hit me like a slap in the face. I let go of Archie’s hand and put both of mine over my face as I fought to catch my breath.
I didn’t make it another step before Archie wrapped an arm around me and tugged me back against him. “Don’t worry about the dinner, I’ll shitcan that whole thing, and I’m so sorry Muriel is such a bitch.”
“She knows, doesn’t she?” God I was gonna be sick.
“Probably,” Archie admitted. “Muriel and Edward are… well, neither of them are stupid. I hadn’t really thought about what she knows or didn’t, but after that little stunt? Yeah, she knows.”
I dropped my hands to his arm and met Coop’s worried gaze. Archie gave me a gentle squeeze, and I leaned back against him. He smelled like his soap and his shampoo.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against my ear. “I was trying to get her to knock it off. Next time, I’ll just pick a fight. Trust me, I can piss her off like no one’s business.”
A laugh escaped me, but it was more a sound of disbelief than humor. Coop flashed me a small smile.