Page 13 of We Used To Be Magic

EZRA

IT’S ON ATHURSDAY THAT THE MESSAGEI’VE BEEN DREADINGfinally arrives.

Hello Ezra. Hope you’re well. Are you free for lunch this afternoon? Dad.

I read it twice, absent-mindedly chewing my cheek. The haphazard rota that Romy and I worked out means that I have today off, and I’m currently lounging on my sofa with a dog-eared copy ofMiddlesex.I put it to one side, quickly tapping out a message to Caroline.

did you tell dad that i’m working at the restaurant??

My phone buzzes less than a minute later.

And deprive you of the pleasure? Of course not :))))))

I sigh and get to my feet, composing a new message as I head towards the bathroom.

sure thing dad. where did you want to go?

Two hours later I’m showered, shaved and sitting in a well-lit restaurant near Dad’s office. He’s predictably late, which gave me the opportunity to order and pay for a vodka soda at the bar.I don’t particularly care that it’s only midday, but that doesn’t mean that I want it to show up on the bill.

‘Sorry, sorry!’ Dad says brusquely, looking distinctly harried as he appears from behind me, pulling out a chair. ‘Meeting ran over – have you been waiting long?’

‘No,’ I lie. He nods and picks up a menu, scanning it for a second before putting it down again.

‘In a rush?’ I venture.

‘Sorry,’ he says, offering a sheepish smile as a waitress approaches our table. I gulp down a mouthful of my drink, already irritated. He’s literally been here for thirty seconds and he’s already gearing up to leave – what was the point?

‘Hey there! What can I get you guys?’ The waitress beams, looking to him.

‘I’ll do the wood-fired chicken with the grilled sprouts on the side, thanks. Ezra?’

‘Uh – could I please get the pancetta and provolone focaccia?’ I say, silently reeling over the fact that this place is charging twenty dollars for what essentially amounts to a ham and cheese sandwich.

‘Sure thing. Any drinks?’

‘Some more sparkling water. Thank you,’ Dad says, and my eyes dart to the waitress. She saw me at the bar. She knows that I’m not drinking sparkling water. But she says nothing – just smiles and glides away, and that’s something that I do admittedly like about fancy places like this. The food might be expensive, but the discretion is free.

‘So,’ Dad says. ‘What have you been up to?’

‘Not much,’ I say, straightening in my chair. ‘I got a job.’

‘Oh,’ he says, eyebrows shooting upwards.

‘Yeah, uh – at the restaurant where Romy works,’ I continue, attempting to hold my nerve. ‘As a waiter. Like – clearing and setting tables. It’s not for ever, obviously—’

‘No, uh – no, I’m sure.’

‘It’s something to do, though.’

‘Right.’ He nods. ‘Well – that’s great. And it’s what I wanted to discuss with you today, actually.’

‘Yeah?’ I manage, feigning surprise.

‘Yes, well – it occurred to me that you might be at a bit of a loose end right now. I wondered if you’d be interested in coming into the office to help out.’

‘Oh, right.’

‘I know you don’t think that what I do is very interesting, but experience in an office is a useful thing to have under your belt. Maggie can attest to that.’

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