“Is it some place I’d like to go?” Claire asked after no one answered her previous question. She fixed her gaze back on me. “So, your mother works there, Graham?”
“It’s basically been the only job she’s ever had. Started right out of high school. A dancer, back then, but now she’s waitressing. That’s where she met my dad! Allegedly.” I took another sip of beer.
It wasn’t quite registering for Claire, yet. I could see her trying to process what I’d just said, figuring out if by “dancer” I met New York City Ballet or ... the other kind of dancer.
“This risotto’s really good,” Chloe said.
“What ... what kind of dancing did she do?” Claire asked.
It was like there were two parts of me: the rational part that knew I should just shut the hell up, there was no reason to keep going with this, and then the other part was enjoying this, that wanted to see where this was going to go. That enjoyed seeing John squirm a little, because he’d probably never had to squirm in his life, because he was the sort of guy who was used to giving the orders and being in charge and never having anyone question him. It felt good, to that part of me that was having fun, yet the rational part of me knew it wasn’t fair because I didn’t really know Chloe’s dad. Yes, it was easy enough to just group him in with all the other wealthy summer residents, with his salmon pink, Lacoste golf shirt and his pressed, cream-colored shorts, but did I personally know the guy? No, I did not. Not yet anyway, though from the look on his face, I probably wasn’t going to have the chance to get to know him. At least not today.
Claire looked at John. “What kind of place is this?” she demanded.
“Honey ...” He rubbed his eyes. “It’s nowhere, okay? Let’s just drop it.”
“No, I want to know.”
“Maybe we should just drop it, Mom,” Chloe said.
But Claire acted as though she hadn’t even heard Chloe, and John was looking more agitated by the second, and suddenly the air had a very electric feel to it, kind of the way it does right before a big lightning storm.
“Yeah, I’m not staying here to witness this,” Chloe said. She stood up and reached for my hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chloe
I had been hopeful that our get-together might go smoothly. I had prepared myself and accepted the fact that there was bound to be some awkwardness, but that if my dad had a drink or two, and Graham had a beer, then eventually the conversation would gel, everyone would find something to talk about, maybe there’d even be a couple laughs.
But then, Graham ended up having a few more beers than I thought he would, and while he wasn’t drunk, he was definitely a little tipsy. And then the whole thing with The Finery came up, and it was like I was watching a car crash in slow motion and there was nothing I could do about it.
So we left.
We took my car and Graham sat there in the passenger seat, hands on his knees, looking out the windshield.
“Shit,” he said as I pulled out from the driveway. “What the hell just happened?”
“I think you just started World War Three.”
He winced. “Was it that bad? I’m not even drunk, you know. I don’t know why I brought that shit up. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “It’ll blow over.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be?”
“Well, I’m not trying to make your home life any more complicated, you know. Your mother didn’t look happy.”
“I’m sure my father will have some s
ort of explanation for her.”
Graham gave me a sidelong look. “You do know what The Finery is, right?”
“Everyone knows what it is. Except maybe my mom. I’ve never been there before, but I know it’s a strip club. My parents have been coming to the Cape every summer for a long time now; it wouldn’t surprise me if at some point before I came along my dad and his buddies went there some night.” We came to a red light and I stopped. “Or maybe even after I was born. Who knows? Obviously that’s not something I talk to him about.”
“Wow,” Graham said, sounding surprised. “You’re being pretty nonchalant about the whole thing.”