up, and their knees are around their chins. Tristan frowns as he peers in at them. “Great, they don’t fit,” he mutters under his breath as he slams the door shut.
“We can take my car,” I offer.
“It will be fine this one time,” he snaps.
We get in and drive to the restaurant. The boys whine and moan about how squashed and uncomfortable they are, and with every mile we travel, I can see Tristan’s face becoming a little more red.
It’s fun watching him fight to hold his tongue. Maybe he won’t be so insistent on doing the family-dinner thing in the future.
We get to the restaurant, and the girl at the desk smiles broadly. “Hello, booking for Miles, please,” he says.
“It’s Anderson,” Harry whispers loudly. “There are four Andersons and only one Miles. It’s hardly a Miles booking, is it?” he huffs, as if outraged.
Tristan stares at Harry blankly.
I so wish I could read his mind. This is really quite comical. “That’s enough, Harry,” I remind him.
We are shown to our seats. “Your table.”
“Thank you.” Tristan smiles.
“Sit here.” Fletcher pats the chair next to him. Tristan moves to sit next to him.
“I want to sit next to Tristan,” Patrick whines as he taps the chair beside him. “Tristan, sit next to me, please.”
Tristan comes over to my side. “To save arguments, I’m sitting next to Mom.”
Harry rolls his eyes.
We all sit down, and as if he has been waiting all night to say it, Tristan blurts out. “There’s a reason I wanted to have dinner tonight, Claire,” he says loudly so that everyone can hear what he says.
I frown. “There is?”
The table falls silent.
“Yes.” He straightens his tie, as if preparing himself for something. “I was wondering if you would like to go out with me next weekend.”
My face falls.
“Like on a date?” Harry whispers, mortified.
“Yes,” Tristan replies, unrattled. “Like on a date. I would like to be your boyfriend, Claire Anderson. What do you say?”
Chapter 18
“She says no. That’s what she says,” Harry snaps. “What a stupid question—as if she would go out with you, anyway.”
My mouth falls open as I stare at Tristan. What in the world? This is not taking it slow at all.
He smiles sweetly. “Well?”
“I . . .” I look around at my children. Patrick is smiling hopefully, Harry is glaring at Tristan, and Fletcher looks like he’s swallowed a fly.
“I . . . umm . . .”
“Well, you did say you were ready to have a friend again,” Tristan says. “Someone to go to the movies and out to dinner with. A boyfriend, if you will.”
I have no words; this man is the living end.
“And as I see it, you have four choices,” he continues.
I frown. “I do?”
“Yes.” He carries on with his sales pitch. “You can go out with that man you met in Paris.” He pours us each a glass of water from the table jug. “However, that would mean that you all have to move to France.” He sips his water with a casual shrug. “And of course, Muff Cat and Woofy can’t move to Paris, so they would have to move in with me.”
The boys’ faces fall in horror.
“I am not moving to Paris,” Harry snaps in an outrage.
“Me neither,” Fletcher whispers angrily. “No way in hell.”
“Me three,” says Patrick.
Tristan’s eyes dance with delight. I see what he’s doing here.
“I don’t know; Paris may be good for us.” I smile.
“No way, Mom,” Harry whispers angrily. “You can forget about it. I’m calling Grandma; she won’t like this at all.”
“What are the other choices?” I ask as I play along.
“You could go out with Pilates Paul,” he offers.
“Oh, he’s nice.” I smile sweetly. “I do like him. Great choice.”
Tristan looks at me deadpan. “He’s boring, Claire,” he mutters dryly.
“But so handsome, right?”
Tristan narrows his eyes, and I bite my lip to hide my giggle.
“I’m getting a headache,” Harry says as he holds his temples.
“No, Mom,” Fletcher snaps. “That’s just embarrassing. He wears a pink sweatband around his head to Pilates.”
“Yes,” Tristan hisses. “Exactly my point, Fletch. He will bring the Anderson name into disrepute.”
“He is weird, Mom,” agrees Patrick. “You have to admit it.”
I let out an overexaggerated sigh. “Okay, what is my other choice?”
“You could meet someone new who has kids.”
I blink. This isn’t what I thought he was going to say.
“But whenever he comes over, he will bring his children, and they will have to have a bedroom to stay in. So Harry and Patrick will have to share