BETH
The dinner we ate is as nontraditional as the gathering of people around the table. Instead of a turkey, Penn served a whole roast leg of lamb, with potatoes that had been cooked until they were crisp on the outside, but sweet and creamy on the inside. The buttery green peas were sautéed in onions and garlic, swimming in a mint sauce that I helped Penn make.
We’ve demolished it and now sit gathered around her exquisitely laid table, complete with full place settings, trying to recover from our food comas before moving on to desert.
“Is this Royal Doulton 1815?” Porsha asks, holding her dinner plate up so she can see the bottom. She gasps, reverent awe in her eyes, “Oh my God it is,” she sighs, dreamily and strokes the bottom of the plate.
“Yes, it was a wedding gift.”
“I can’t believe I ate on it. This is discontinued.”
“Oh is your Sugar Daddy a collector of fine crockery?” Jack asks, swirling the amber liquid in the small glass. He’s been nursing the same drink all night. I don’t think he’s taken a sip.
He and Porsha have been at each other’s throats all night. But rather than it being uncomfortable, it’s been interesting.
It’s also a welcome distraction from the growing tension and distance between Carter and me. He’s barely said a word to me and we haven’t made eye contact all night.
“Let’s move to the living room, I can’t sit up anymore and I want to finish hearing about the award you got Beth,” Penn say, standing.
We all follow her lead.
“It’s the first award I’ve ever been given,” I say.
“You should have seen Beth’s speech, Mom. It was goosebumps city when she pulled that wig off. It was a triumph.” Nadia’s effusive praise makes me flush.
“The only thing that’s triumphant about me is the button on my skirt. I can’t believe it’s holding after everything I’ve eaten today,” I groan and flop into the corner of the huge plush light grey sectional that takes up the center of his mother’s huge open plan living area.
“Stop being modest. I can’t believe that talent was hiding from the world in Texas. Thank God you came to New York. You’re about to blow up, I hope you’re ready,” Nadia says excitedly.
“Nadia, that’s not what she wants,” Carter reproaches his sister. He’s sitting diagonally across from me, his eyes on his phone. Just like it’s been all night. I’m getting sick of his talking around me, about me, but not to me.
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind,” I correct him and he looks up. He looks startled when we make eye contact and looks away quickly.
I stifle my sigh of frustration and turn back to Nadia.
“The fame or notoriety I can do without, but to have the chance to paint for a living, I’d love it. It was a dream when I was a kid. I work two jobs and only teach that class on Saturday mornings, but I would love to be able to teach more and paint more. Also, I know people like looking at my art, but have no idea if anyone would actually want to buy it.”
“I’d pay for a portrait. In fact, I would love to be your first commission,” Nadia says.
I wave her off. “You don’t have to pay me. I’d love to paint you.”
“Oh my God, you need to stop giving your art away. Let me be your patron. I’m made of money. My advisor told me to make a budget…and I was like, why?” She rolls her eyes and pops an olive into her mouth.
Penn drops her head into her hands with a loud groan. “Oh Nadia, what am I going to do with you?”
Nadia’s eyebrows draw together. “What? It’s true. I mean, Forbes told the whole world how much money I made last year, so it’s not like it’s a secret.”
“Well, then how about you take some of that money and go down to Momufuku and get some of that Crack Pie,” Ryan drawls and comes to standing. I find their pairing so wonderful. Talk about opposites attracting. He has barely taken his eyes off her all night. And she can’t keep her hands off him.
“I don’t know how you stay so fit with the way you eat,” Nadia grumbles but takes his outstretched hand with a smile on her face.
“Anybody else want a slice?” Nadia asks the group.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Only the most delicious pie in the world,” Nadia gushes. “It’s just sugar and butter and salt and flour all gooey and delicious and addictive.”
“It was Lorin’s favorite,” Penn says, her eyes dancing as if she’s remembering something wonderful. “Get a whole one, Nad, I’ll make tea.”
They say their goodbyes, but by the time they get to the elevator, it’s clear the rest of us have disappeared.
“Is Chai okay?” Penn asks and stands to head to the kitchen.
“Oh, yes, I’d love some,” I say.
“She painted me,” Carter says, his voice is flat, but has a combative edge. Everyone turns to look at him. His long legs are stretched out in front of him, he’s leaning back, his phone in front of his face.
I prickle of unease makes my throat dry.
“She did?” Penn asks, sounding intrigued.
He nods, without looking up. “It’s how I knew it was her work when I saw Hetal’s portrait. It’s why I have a blue piano…that was all Beth’s doing.” He looks up now, and his eyes are blazing, bloodshot, as if he’s been crying, but dry. Ugh, this is terrible. He’s miserable with me here.
“Oh, I’d love to see it” Penn says, her brows lift quizzically and she throws a “do you have any idea what’s wrong?” expression my way.
I give a quick shake of my head.
“It’s in Texas. It was too big to bring with me,” I answer as pleasantly as I can. It broke my heart to leave it and I hate imagining what’s happened to it since I left.
“I took a picture of it. Here.” Carter hands his phone to his mother without opening anything and my stomach clenches when I realize he’s been looking at it all this time. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Her eyes cloud with worry and darting between him and me before she takes it from him,
She gasps, but it’s not awe in her eyes when she looks up at me. She looks devastated, but then she catches herself and she smiles, but it’s a watery smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Let me see it?” Joe asks and she hands the phone to him before I can protest. It feels like being stripped naked in front of everyone.
I painted it for him. It’s ours. Wow that we’re not - or can’t be - what we were in that picture, it feels wrong to share it.
Jack and Porsha are engrossed in whatever conversation they’re having and don’t look up.
“Wow, Beth. This is incredible. And huge. You paint those other ones so fast. This must have taken a long time,” Joe says but his eyes are tinged with concern and he’s looking at Carter who’s staring at the floor now that his phone isn’t in his hands.
Penn takes the phone from Joe and they exchange a look I don’t understand before she looks back at the painting. Her elegant fingers trace the screen and she shakes her head.
“I can feel you thinking mom. Just say it,” Carter snaps and her eyes narrow in annoyance at his less than polite tone.