Page 6 of King of Lies
“You don’t want her talking to anyone anyway, so it’s all part of your master plan,” Fran complains.
“I don’t want to see our girl hurt.”
“Well I, for one, am going to want grandbabies and how can I have those if she doesn’t talk to anyone?”
“Adoption?” Paul answers while I sit wide-eyed with my mouth hanging open.
“Not funny,” Fran snaps as he swats at Paul with his napkin.
“It was a little funny.” Paul smiles at Fran unrepentantly. Fran softens immediately which is good for me, because who could possibly think about me being in a situation to make a baby? I’d have to talk to someone first. Although a little voice in the back of my head whispers that I talked to a handsome stranger today and it probably wouldn’t suck to make a baby with him.Ohmygod,what has gotten into me?
“What’s that smile about?” Paul asks and I realize they’re both staring at me.
“I bet it’s a boy.” Fran claps. “Oooh. Tell me it’s about a boy. Is there a new man in your life, dumpling?”
“Uh … definitely not.”
“Well that’s disappointing,” he says. “I thought having a girl would mean boy gossip. I want to know about all the cute boys.”
“Why?” I laugh. “You already have one.”
“This is true,” he says. “But just because I’ve already ordered doesn’t mean I can’t look at the menu.”
“Umm, yeah I think it does, Uncle Fran.”
“Agreed,” Paul grumbles.
“Meh, he knows I’m devoted.” Fran smiles. “I’m not worried and neither is he.”
I smile at them. Paul and Fran are the real deal. If I could, one day I’d have a love just like theirs. They are so dedicated to each other and confident in that love. Their home was a great one to grow up in.
We finish dinner, talking about this and that before Paul starts collecting dishes from the table. Fran and I push up from our chairs and grab the serving dishes to carry them into the kitchen. We pack up leftovers including a big one for me so I can “Have a decent dinner tomorrow” as Fran claims. I missed this, how we work well together as a team to accomplish a chore.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Paul says. “You got some mail here the other day. It’s on the table in the hall.”
“Thanks, Uncle Paul.”
I make my way to the hall and find a small stack of mail on the antique table tucked against the wall. I flip through it. It’s not much. A credit card bill, an alumni magazine from my college, a paid political mailer telling me why they think I should vote for Senator Chancellor for President. Personally, he seems like kind of a jerk. I’m not sure I’ll vote for him. His only redeeming quality is his running mate is some family man from South Dakota who seems like a decent guy. That’s still not enough to make me vote for them though.
I grab the stack of mail and carry it to where I stashed my purse when I walked in the door. I stuff it inside before heading back to the kitchen to find my uncles. They’re speaking to each other in hushed tones, something they often did when I was a child and they didn’t want me to hear what they were saying. I don’t make myself known right away so that I can listen. I know it’s wrong, but they only whisper when they’re talking about me. And besides, I’m a grown woman now. I should be able to take on the world … that is, as long as it doesn’t involve people or a lot of social interactions.
“I don’t like it,” Paul says as he leans over the sink, washing the dishes.
“We don’t have a choice,” Fran says as he turns to him. “This is how it’s supposed to be.”
“They’ll eat her alive,” he says.
“It’s her birthright.”
“Dammit, Fran. She wasn’t raised like that,” Paul says, dropping the plate in the sink and shaking suds from his hands. “She doesn’t know anything but this life.”
“But she could. Don’t you want better for her?” Fran asks as he lays his hand on Paul’s back.
“I want her safe and happy.”
“That’s not for us to decide,” Fran says.
Paul drops his head forward and leans on the counter. “I know but I hate it.”
