Page 296 of The First Time
I nod. "Are you okay?"
"Fine. What about when you want to relax? After a run? You don't strike me as one of those girls who is mostly interested in parties and shopping. Though I did enjoy both in my day."
"I draw." I make my voice confident. I'm about to marry the woman's son. I need to seem like a strong, independent woman. Someone worthy of him. "I've been thinking about art school."
"Excellent. Art school. Yes, that would suit you. You'll have to stay in the dorms and drive Blake mad forcing him to visit."
"That would get him out of the office."
She smiles, but it's not the same as before. She doesn't quite have her strength.
Blake and Fiona finish setting the table. They bring in dinner on thick ceramic plates. It's homemade, a pot roast and side salads dressed with a dark vinaigrette.
"Thank you," I say to no one in particular.
I take Blake's lead when everyone starts eating.
Meryl picks at her salad. Fiona stares at her food like it bores her. I can't imagine she has much of an appetite after her husband's remarkable show of apathy.
She turns her attention to me. "Can I see the ring?"
"Oh. Sure." I place my hand over the table like I'm modeling the enormous rock. "It's beautiful."
"Tiffany?" Fiona asks.
Blake shoots her ashut uplook.
"It looks expensive." She glances at her smaller but still impressive wedding ring.
"Don't be tacky," Meryl says.
"I'm admiring my future sister-in-law's jewelry." Fiona huffs. She squeezes her hands together like she's trying to stay calm. "Am I not allowed an interest in jewelry either?"
"What did I ever do to raise two children who care so much about status?" Meryl shakes her head. "What the hell are you going to do when I'm not here? You'll drown yourselves in your fucking money."
"Mom, that's not true," Fiona says.
Meryl pushes her plate aside. "Excuse me. I need some air."
Blake makes a move to follow her.
"Sit down. I'm fine. My only problem is the two of you. Finish your dinner, and clean up after yourselves. I know you both have people who do that for you at home." Her eyes turn down. The energy drains from her expression. "Have dessert and coffee without me."
"Mom." Fiona's voice breaks into a whine. "It's cold out."
"I grew up here. This is nothing. Please, let your poor mother have a chance to be alone." She grabs her coat off the rack and walks up the stairs.
For once, I can perfectly read the look on Blake's face. He's terrified.
