Ellis’s mother touched her husband’s arm, but he pulled back and swept a glower over Ellis. “Look at you, parading around in your fancy suits and hats. Your new apartment. You pass around bucks like penny candy, trying to be some big shot.”
Ellis’s simmer was turning to a boil. He didn’t deserve any of this, particularly from a guy who barely knew Ellis at all. Had hardly ever bothered. Back in Philly, he used to worry that his initial success from the picture of the Dillards had flagged his father’s suspicions. Now a revelation dawned.
Fists on his knees, Ellis leaned forward. “You know what? I was trying to treat you and Ma here to a nice night on the town. If this is all making you jealous, it’s not my fault.” He caught his mother’s faint gasp.
His father stared at him. “What’d you say?”
“That’s right. Because I’m actually making something of my life.” Once his words flew out, there was no pulling them in. The implied comparison hung in the air as his father sank back in his seat. His mother watched, hand held to her mouth.
After a long moment, his father nodded heavily, as if conceding. That single gesture stung Ellis with shame. And yet, the feeling was dulled by an odd rush of relief. A hope of finally achieving some sort of understanding.
“Maybe you’re right about that,” his father said. Then his voice turned cold. “’Cause I obviously failed if this is how my only son turned out.”
The ending was a punch to the chest. Having let down his guard, Ellis felt the knuckling of each and every syllable—but not just for himself. For a brother who’d long been written off as if he’d never existed.
“You mean the only son who lived.”
“That’s enough,” his mother cut in.
In that instant, the world ceased beyond their booth. They had become a trio of statues, limbs unmoving, barely breathing. All Ellis could hear was the thundering of his own pulse.
Slowly, as if coming to, his father picked up his hat. He stood from the table, eyes distant, almost foggy. With an expression still carved from stone, he started toward the exit.
Ellis’s mother came to her feet, preparing to follow.
“Ma…” Ellis didn’t know what to say. Regardless of who was right or wrong, better or worse, he despised the idea of hurting her. “I’m sorry.”
She turned to him, her face sullen, and patted his shoulder. “I know, sweetheart. I know,” she said and kissed him on the cheek.
As Ellis watched her trail after his father, the waiter swooped in with a full teacup. A tad too late.
Maybe right on time.
“Will it be a table for one, sir?” The look on his face indicated he’d witnessed the couple’s hasty departure.
“I suppose…” Ellis was still trying to absorb all that had happened.
“I’d be happy to take your entrée order if you’re ready. Or I could give you more time to decide.” When Ellis didn’t respond, the waiter took the latter for an answer. But in the midst of stepping away, he paused. “Of course, sir, if you’re open to a change of plans, I do have a suggestion that might be of interest. Something to end the evening on, perhaps, a higher note.”
Ellis couldn’t imagine anything improving this cruddy night of his. But then, he was in no rush to head home, where the quiet would inevitably force him to dwell on his family and his father and their ugly sparring of words. “Such as?”
Rather than elaborate, the waiter signaled to the blond hostess, who smiled knowingly before coming his way.
Chapter 14
Lily would typically shy away from entering a place like this on her own, and at such a late hour in an unfamiliar town. Vital to her search, however, Jack Bleeck’s was the preferred haunt of the Herald Tribune. At least according to a grandfatherly bellman at the Waldorf Astoria, who had lit with pride over his extensive knowledge of the city.
Hopefully, the bartender at Bleeck’s could say for certain.
“Sure, I know Ellis. Comes in all the time.” His answer, over the din of the crowd, fluttered Lily’s hopes until he added, “No sign of him tonight, though.” But then he told her to wait there, that some scribes from the Trib were hunkered down in their usual corner and might have a clue to Ellis’s whereabouts.
The bartender guessed well. At the paper, one of the reporters had apparently overhead Ellis’s plan to take his folks