the collection is, he always thinks I can find room for it.”
“And do you?”
“So far, but we’re getting pretty full. Our sales have been slower, but he’s been buying more and more. Eventually, something’s going to give. What about you? How was Japan?”
“Japan was fine. It was kind of the wrong time of the year to go there, if you want to enjoy the weather. Maybe we could go in the spring and see the cherry blossoms. Honestly, I spent most of my time thinking about you and what an idiot I was for leaving you the day after I found you again.”
The meal went by in a flurry of comfort food and reminisces.
Elizabeth finally pushed her plate away. “If I eat the rest of those mashed potatoes, I don’t think this dress will fit me like it’s supposed to. Thank you for bringing me here. I can tell it’s special to you.”
When the plates had been cleared away, and Steve had defended them against all Maybelle's attempts to stuff deep-dish apple pie into them, he looked at his watch. “We better go. We don’t want to keep Mother waiting.”
Elizabeth’s heart lurched a bit. “Oh, is your mother going to be there?”
“God, yes,” Steve said as he put a $50 bill on the table and helped Elizabeth on with her wrap. “If there’s a charity event being held within a fifty-mile radius, she’s there. It’s really been her life since Dad died.”
Margaret Larson and Elizabeth had never had a warm relationship. When they were young, she didn’t forbid Steve from being friends with Elizabeth, but neither did she conceal her feelings: Steve should choose his friends from the same social circle. After Steve had answered his mother's call to come home from college, Elizabeth had wondered if breaking up their friendship had been a secondary motive. Elizabeth smiled tightly. “How nice.”
“Are you worried that Mother is going to be there? There’s no need. She’ll be seventy-seven this summer and she’s mellowed out a lot these last few years. The only meanness in her is that she loves to gossip.”
“I’m sure. I just remember being uncomfortable around her. She always looked at me like I had lice or something. Let me ask you this: How was she with other girls you’ve dated?”
Steve clicked the unlock button on his keychain and opened the passenger door for Elizabeth, then jogged around the front and got in. “Well, there haven’t really beena lot of other girls. I never dated anyone else seriously. Sometimes, it would be important that I escort someone to an event, and Mother would usually fix me up with the daughter of one of her friends…”
Exactly. One of her friends. Someone with money, or status, or both.
“… but it never came to anything.”
The Winterland Gala was held at the Men’s Athletic Club downtown, which was less than a five-minute drive from Maybelle’s. They pulled off 7 th Avenue into a line of limousines and luxury cars. As soon as they came to a stop, a young man hustled up to the car, opened the driver’s door and said, “Good evening, Mr. Larson. Good to see you again.”
“Evening, Dennis,” Steve said. As he got out, they shook hands. Elizabeth noticed that a bill had materialized and transferred with the handshake. I guess in his world, that's a necessary skill, thought Elizabeth, as an older man dressed in a red uniform and cap opened her door. The man offered a hand, but Steve said, “Hello, Jenkins, I’ve got this one.”
“Very good, sir.”
After turning the car over to the valets, Steve put an arm lightly around Elizabeth’s waist, resting his right hand just above her hip. “They’ve been serving cocktails since seven, so some people might be tipsy already. I’ve seen these events get a little crazy, believe it or not.” They walked up the steps to the four sets of double glass doors. “Right through here, Lizzie, then the Gala is in the main ballroom.”
Inside the front doors, the entryway had a surprisingly low ceiling. With all the
“And do you?”
“So far, but we’re getting pretty full. Our sales have been slower, but he’s been buying more and more. Eventually, something’s going to give. What about you? How was Japan?”
“Japan was fine. It was kind of the wrong time of the year to go there, if you want to enjoy the weather. Maybe we could go in the spring and see the cherry blossoms. Honestly, I spent most of my time thinking about you and what an idiot I was for leaving you the day after I found you again.”
The meal went by in a flurry of comfort food and reminisces.
Elizabeth finally pushed her plate away. “If I eat the rest of those mashed potatoes, I don’t think this dress will fit me like it’s supposed to. Thank you for bringing me here. I can tell it’s special to you.”
When the plates had been cleared away, and Steve had defended them against all Maybelle's attempts to stuff deep-dish apple pie into them, he looked at his watch. “We better go. We don’t want to keep Mother waiting.”
Elizabeth’s heart lurched a bit. “Oh, is your mother going to be there?”
“God, yes,” Steve said as he put a $50 bill on the table and helped Elizabeth on with her wrap. “If there’s a charity event being held within a fifty-mile radius, she’s there. It’s really been her life since Dad died.”
Margaret Larson and Elizabeth had never had a warm relationship. When they were young, she didn’t forbid Steve from being friends with Elizabeth, but neither did she conceal her feelings: Steve should choose his friends from the same social circle. After Steve had answered his mother's call to come home from college, Elizabeth had wondered if breaking up their friendship had been a secondary motive. Elizabeth smiled tightly. “How nice.”
“Are you worried that Mother is going to be there? There’s no need. She’ll be seventy-seven this summer and she’s mellowed out a lot these last few years. The only meanness in her is that she loves to gossip.”
“I’m sure. I just remember being uncomfortable around her. She always looked at me like I had lice or something. Let me ask you this: How was she with other girls you’ve dated?”
Steve clicked the unlock button on his keychain and opened the passenger door for Elizabeth, then jogged around the front and got in. “Well, there haven’t really beena lot of other girls. I never dated anyone else seriously. Sometimes, it would be important that I escort someone to an event, and Mother would usually fix me up with the daughter of one of her friends…”
Exactly. One of her friends. Someone with money, or status, or both.
“… but it never came to anything.”
The Winterland Gala was held at the Men’s Athletic Club downtown, which was less than a five-minute drive from Maybelle’s. They pulled off 7 th Avenue into a line of limousines and luxury cars. As soon as they came to a stop, a young man hustled up to the car, opened the driver’s door and said, “Good evening, Mr. Larson. Good to see you again.”
“Evening, Dennis,” Steve said. As he got out, they shook hands. Elizabeth noticed that a bill had materialized and transferred with the handshake. I guess in his world, that's a necessary skill, thought Elizabeth, as an older man dressed in a red uniform and cap opened her door. The man offered a hand, but Steve said, “Hello, Jenkins, I’ve got this one.”
“Very good, sir.”
After turning the car over to the valets, Steve put an arm lightly around Elizabeth’s waist, resting his right hand just above her hip. “They’ve been serving cocktails since seven, so some people might be tipsy already. I’ve seen these events get a little crazy, believe it or not.” They walked up the steps to the four sets of double glass doors. “Right through here, Lizzie, then the Gala is in the main ballroom.”
Inside the front doors, the entryway had a surprisingly low ceiling. With all the
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