Page 105 of Winning Bid

“So … we were dating at the time?”

“It was only a few weeks in our dating.”

I’m not sure if Mom is going to scratch his eyes out at the table or wait until they get home. Etiquette would tell her to wait, but I’ve never seen her face turn this particular shade of blood red.

But then, she laughs. Once at first, but it’s followed by more. And it’s not her party laugh, either. It’s a gut laugh. Has she finally snapped?

“Uh, Dad, maybe?—"

“It’s fine, Anderson,” Mom insists. “Elliot, I did not know you slept with Gretta Copeland—wait. Her husband was still alive then. You rascal!”

Dad laughs, too, and our wedding supper is taking a turn for the outright bizarre. I’m not sure what to think of any of it, but he says, “It’s not like he didn’t have his fun on the side, Kitty. Don’t judge.”

Her flirty smirk at my father is enough to give me nightmares. “I don’t throw stones at glass houses.”

“What—you mean you and Dwight?”

Mom smiles and nods. “Seems we have more in common than we thought.”

I did not need to know any of this. “It’s a good thing you two are rich because you’ll be paying a therapist for the rest of my life after this conversation.”

“You’re married now, dear,” Mom begins. “Grow up.”

51

JUNE

Today, I married the man that I love. I also discovered that his parents were sexual freaks in their youth, and I never, ever needed to know that. Okay, maybe not freaks. Maybe they were just free with their bodies, and oh God, I never, ever needed to know that. As horrified as I am to learn these things, I'm sure that Anderson feels worse. He looks a little green.

“Sweetie, are the oysters not settling for you?”

“No, the oysters are fine,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Kitty smirks at him. “I thought I raised you to be less judgmental than this, young man.”

He laughs once. “Then you thought wrong, Mom.”

Elliott rolls his eyes. “Here, I thought you were the evolved one.”

“I both need to know, and I need to never know what I’m about to ask you. How many of our family friends have you two slept with?”

They both shrug innocently enough. Kitty says, “Well, that all stopped once your father put a ring on my finger.”

Elliot nods. “We've been monogamous ever since.”

I wonder how true that is, but I don't voice my question. Anderson forges ahead. “But before there was a ring on your finger?”

“It was a long time ago, Anderson,” his mother begins. “Truth be told, I'm not entirely certain. But not that many.”

His father says, “Not that it's any of your business.”

“It is my business when it's people that we actually do business with.”

But his father waves his hand in the air dismissively. “It's nothing for you to concern yourself with.”

He gives me such a helpless look that I have to laugh. The dinner has been uncomfortable, fun, and a little weird. If his parents had yelled at us or something, I might have felt less guilty about eloping. But they've been perfectly pleasant about it, and somehow, that makes me feel worse.

We finish with dessert, and Elliot insists on picking up the check. He tells Anderson, “I won't hear another word about it. We didn't have the chance to pay for any sort of reception, so let us cover this.”

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