Around a cheekful of mashed potatoes, Jodi said, “Really, Rach?” as Walter said, “Hear, hear!”
“We didn’t have a one-night stand,” Kelley said. Alix swallowed her food. She watched Kelley look at Emira. Emira examined the details of her plate. Kelley stopped cutting into a turkey leg to say, “I met Emira at Market Depot, when she was being held by the police.”
Alix’s mouth cupped open and she quickly closed it. The table collectively took in this information as Prudence held up a marshmallow that was melted to black on one side. Prudence showed it to Imani and whispered, “This looks like a caca doo-doo.”
Tamra leaned forward to see around Emira to Kelley. “You were there?”
“Yeah, I saw what was happening and I pulled out my phone.”
“Wait a second, you’re kidding.” Peter sat back in his chair. In his left arm, Catherine started to wake up. “I remember you now.”
Rachel snorted and said, “Whoops.”
“Sorry, yeah,” Kelley said to Peter. “I didn’t expect you to remember me. You definitely had other things to worry about.”
“You had your phone up,” Peter remembered, “and you were recording.”
“There’s a video?” Tamra asked. She looked to Alix with a face that said, I knew it.
“Well, yes, but that’s Emira’s property now. Sorry.” Kelley half laughed. “This isn’t exactly Thanksgiving conversation. I probably should have said we met on Tinder or something. I’m sorry.” This time he apologized to Emira.
Alix stared across the table at her sitter, feeling as if she’d been very publicly uninvited to a gathering that she herself had organized. The betrayal Alix felt (Why wouldn’t you just tell me where you really met? Why would you say the train?) was quickly replaced by a new backstabbing confusion (Why did you call Peter that night? Why wouldn’t you just call me?).
Emira adjusted her earring and picked her fork up again. “No, it’s fine. We did meet for real on the train a few days later, though,” she promised. “And then we just . . . kept seeing each other.”
“Well, Jesus, Kelley. I’m glad you’re here,” Peter said. “And I’m glad that something good came out of that night. Emira, you’re a saint for not suing that entire franchise. Which you could definitely do if there’s a video.”
Walter raised his glass to himself. “Abso-friggin-lutely.”
“Oh, yeah no.” Emira shook her head. “No, I would die if that video got out. I haven’t even watched it.”
“I’d be the same way,” Jodi said.
“But umm . . .” Emira pivoted. “How did you guys meet, Mrs. Chamberlain? I guess I’ve never asked.”
“You mean,” Peter said, “how did Alix pursue me at the most disgusting bar I’ve ever been to?”
Alix forced a laugh. “Pursue is generous.”
“Mama,” Briar said, “I want to open the pie.”
Alix shushed her. “Pie is for later.”
Peter went on to tell a story that Alix had heard many times but never really annoyed her until now. The whole evening she found herself falling in and out of love with her husband quite abruptly, and through his account of how they met, she was both pleased that he depicted Alix as stunning, waving and buying him a beer from across a bar, and irked that he mentioned her being so nervous that she drank the beer herself. With Kelley sitting so close to her, Alix continued to switch from offense to defense. When Peter finished his story, she thought, That’s right, Kelley. I drink beer now. With my husband, who I’ve had sex with more than one time.
Tamra looked to Alix and asked, “Is that when you were working at Hunter?”
“Yes, it was.” Alix nodded. She wanted to say something about the obnoxious dollar drink specials this bar had provided, and how appreciated these specials were because she was making less than forty grand at the time, but Kelley seemingly took her tiny pause as an opportunity to ask, rather loudly, “And what do you do now, Alex? Emira said you’re writing a history book. Is that right?”
Rachel said, “A history book?” as Peter said, “Now that’s being generous.”
Emira’s eyes went small as she looked up at Alix.
Alix’s face and neck turned hot against the sweater she now wished she had changed out of. She waved her head side to side and took up her glass of wine. “Bri, sit up my love,” she said. “Well, it’s umm”—she took a sip—“it’s my little history.” On my, she placed a hand to her chest, and it reminded her of hugging Emira the morning after Market Depot, and how Emira just sort of leaned in as if she’d had trouble hearing, instead of just hugging her back. “I have a book coming out with HarperCollins, and it’ll have the best letters I’ve written and received since I started my business.”
“That’s really only half of it.” Tamra turned to Emira as she went on. “I’m sure you’ve seen her Instagram and all the things she has her hands in.”
“Oh, no.” Emira smiled. “I don’t have Instagram.”
“Girl!” Tamra feigned dramatic shock. “We have got to get you caught up!”
“You don’t have Instagram?” Next to Alix, Jodi’s amazement was more genuine. “That’s amazing. Even Prudence has one.”
Emira said, “Really?”
“Well, I run it, and it’s private,” Jodi assured her, “but it keeps our distant family members very happy.”
“So it’s like a history of your business?” Kelley wouldn’t let it go. Alix knew exactly what he was doing, but how could she fight him at the dinner table, in front of her friends and in front of Emira?
“Mm-hmm,” she said. “Exactly.”
“And when did it start?”
“Well . . . I started my business in 2009, so—”
“Oh wow, okay.” Kelley smiled across the table. “That’s a brief history.”
“Wait, when did we all meet?” Jodi stepped in. “2011?”
“Rachel, I can’t believe you were the experienced parent back then,” Tamra said.
“Taught you bitches everything I know,” Rachel said.
Imani and Cleo looked at their mother, seeking corroboration that a bad word had been said. Tamra shook her head in confirmation and put a finger to lips.
“You know what?” Peter said. “I want to make a toast.”