I have a feeling he’s always so busy he eats all of his meals in painful scalding gulps and swallows.
Maybe it’s a doctor thing. Ingest the fuel rather than enjoy it.
“He’s shy. Leave him alone.”
Patrick frowns at my kid-sister impudence, and then laughs. He glances at Josh.
“Shy. Huh.” I can see the realization dawning across his face, like it did mine yesterday. Shyness takes so many different forms. Some people are shy and soft. Some, shy and hard. Or in Josh’s case, shy, and wrapped in military-grade armor.
“Josh, Lucy, thank you for the gift,” Mindy says when Josh takes his seat. She catches my eye and smiles, clearly thinking I chose it.
“I never did see what he ended up choosing.” I take a huge bite of croissant. He’s got one arm across the back of my chair, his warm hand spread across my shoulder.
“The most beautiful set of Waterford crystal champagne glasses, engraved with our initials. And two bottles of Moët.”
“Good job, Josh.”
“The wedding was nice,” Josh tells her. I look at his eyes as they assess each other. It’s probably the first time they’ve faced each other since the breakup. I almost quiver with concentration, trying to detect any residual heartbreak, lust, resentment, loneliness. If I had whiskers, they would be twitching.
“Thanks,” Mindy replies. She looks at her wedding ring again and then at Patrick with such helpless devotion I look at Josh sharply. If ever he was going to react badly it would be now. He smiles, looks at his plate, and then looks at me. He kisses my temple and I’m convinced.
“How have you kept Lucy a secret from us all?” Mindy says as she cuts her grapefruit.
“Oh, you know. I keep her in my basement.”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. He’s made it comfy down there.” Everyone laughs, except Anthony, naturally.
I have a refreshing realization. I’m not trying. It explains why I’m so comfortable sitting here, eating with strangers. If they like me, fine. If not, I can live. But I feel the same relaxed slouchy feeling I get when sitting with my family. If I tilt my head just right, I can’t see Anthony at all.
Mindy lists some of the other gifts they received. Patrick’s new gold band winks in the pale sunshine filtering in through the clouds, and he occasionally curls his thumb in to touch it. Mindy watches him, tenderness in her eyes.
Josh’s breakfast is two poached eggs, a slice of wheat toast, and a heap of wilted spinach. He drinks his coffee in two swallows. I look at my own plate and pinch my stomach under the table. His body is a temple. Mine will be a hut made of butter at this rate.
“More coffee?” I get up and decide to bring myself back some more fruit. I can’t just sit there eating pastry. He snags my wrist and looks up at me.
Stay, his eyes tell me. I pat him kindly and he reluctantly relinquishes his mug.
“I’ll be right back. Anyone else?”
I take my time fiddling with the coffee machine. Everything’s a little stilted and it does occur to me that I’m essentially an intruder. I’m the only one at the table who’s not a Templeman.
As I struggle with the long plastic tongs to get another slice of watermelon, I am dimly aware of sharp tones. I’m piling my plate with a bunch of grapes when realization dawns. Oh shit.
I hurry back to the table and put down my plate and Josh’s mug. Mindy is frozen, eyes frightened, and Patrick looks resigned.
“But what I want to know is, why would you throw away premed? Any monkey can get an MBA.”
Anthony has laid aside his breakfast reading and is staring down Josh, gimlet-eyed.
Seriously, I was away from the table for maybe two minutes. How did this escalate so quickly? I suppose a nuclear bomb has one red button, and that doesn’t take long to press. I put my hand on the back of Josh’s neck, like I’m holding an attack dog by the collar.
“For fuck’s sake. If you knew anything about it, you’d know it’s almost impossible to complete an executive MBA while working full-time. And I did it. And I was in the top two percent. I got four job offers, and two of those companies still call me.”