Page 22 of Kiss My Glass
“Teenagers!!” Shelby replies.
“Oh, come on, Shel,” says Chiara. “We weren’t exactly saints ourselves.”
“That’s what I mean!” Shelby pats her bump. “When this one is born, I’m locking them away until they’re thirty-five.”
Brendan is still hovering.
“Can’t imagine you and Jordan misbehaving,” he says to Shelby. “You, however”—he nods at Chiara—“were born trouble.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” says Chiara. “Now, go away. Frankie and I are sparring.”
“Wrong. I’m eating.” I pick up my cheeseburger and say to Brendan, “And I’d love another beer.”
He shrugs, which means, “Sure thing, coming right up,” and walks off back to the bar without a second glance at his now nemesis, Chiara.
“You know, Jordan’s right,” says Chiara, who ignores everything that doesn’t suit her, “he does have a fine rear end.”
“I suppose,” says Shelby, reluctantly. “Nate’s is cuter.”
“You think Nate’snasalhair is precious,” says Chiara. “You are not an objective observer.”
“Poor Nate,” says Shelby, with a sigh. “He really didn’t want to visit his parents today. Hope his dad hasn’t been too difficult.”
“What’s Danny’s relationship with his father like?”
I have to admire Chiara’s ability to pivot. Getting nowhere with me directly, she’s now trying the oblique route.
Shelby, of course, is oblivious to devious tactics. “Nate says his dad gives Danny a hard time because he didn’t go to college. Says his dad doesn’t mean to be harsh, but he has very firm ideas about the correct pathways to success, and he’s worried that Danny’s strayed off them.”
“But Danny’s business is doing very well, isn’t it?” Chiara appears to be looking directly at Shelby, but I know she has a corner of her eye on me.
“Yes!” says Shelby. “And Nate says he’s been asked to be on TV! To present some car program!”
Okay, now I’m listening, but I refuse to give Chiara the satisfaction. I focus intently on eating my curly fries.
“Tough business, television,” says Chiara. “I wonder if he has an agent, or someone with legal experience. He’ll need help fighting his corner when it comes to rights and remuneration.”
She may as well be spelling my name out in neon. Subtle.
“Danny’s super savvy,” Shelby says. “Nate’s always said he admires his instincts, and his tolerance for risk.”
“Typical outgoing, adventurous middle child.” Chiara casts yet another fishing lure my way. “Although the youngest is often the most rebellious.”
“What about only children like you?” Shelby asks.
“Oh, we’re a perfect combination of every birth order trait,” says Chiara, smugly.
Brendan sets my beer down with a pointed lack of care. “Last orders,” he announces. “I’m closing up in fifteen minutes.”
“According to the sign on the door, you’re shut between three and four-thirty,” Chiara says. “It’s only one forty-five.”
“My joint, my rules,” says Brendan, and walks off again.
“Wow,’ says Shelby. “He’s really mad at you.”
Chiara sighs. “I’ll make it up to him.”
What aboutme? I want to ask. Any chance of an apology for the torture session I just endured?
