could see would shock me.”
Thirty minutes later, Trudy held the brimming platter in his direction. “More plátanos, Robert?”
He stared down at the enormous glazed bananas, that—for the life of him—looked like caramelized parts of the male anatomy. “Um, no… Thanks. They’re delicious, though.”
Isabel shot Robert a coquettish smile. “I’ll take some more,” she said, reaching for the platter. “I don’t think I could get enough.”
Kip leaned forward and took the platter from Trudy, setting it on the table beside him. “Perhaps you’ve already had enough.”
“But I love these! Don’t you, Mom?”
Trudy sliced into hers with gusto, and Robert winced. “They’re to die for.”
Kip took the napkin from his lap and splayed it open, covering the offending bananas.
Trudy cocked her chin at him from the other end of the table.
“So, tell me,” Kip said, addressing Robert. “How is it you ran into Isabel again?”
“We bumped into each other on campus today,” Robert said, preparing to take another bite of pork piñon.
“Yes,” Isabel quipped. “Didn’t I tell you? He has the most liberating job at the Art Center.”
Trudy’s brow rose with interest. “Liberating, how?”
Robert’s fork fell to his plate with a clank.
“Is that where you saw each other?” Kip asked, perplexed. He turned to Robert. “But I thought you were in medical school?”
“I…am,” Robert stammered, suddenly overheated.
Isabel gave him an impish look. “In some ways, it was like no time had gone by…” she mused. “In others, it was like seeing him for the very first time.”
Kip peered under the napkin at the plantains, then narrowed his gaze at his daughter.
Isabel widened her eyes at Robert and sat up straighter as if to contain herself from bursting out laughing. Robert could tell she was having fun with this, razzing him in front of her folks like she used to do as a kid.
“What is it you do at the Art Center, Robert?” Trudy asked.
“I’m afraid that’s all a big misunderstanding,” he said, avoiding Isabel’s gaze. “Actually, I work at the lab.”
“I see,” Trudy said, obviously confused.
Kip made an effort to redirect the conversation. “How’s your family?”
“My parents are fine, sir. Thanks for asking.”
“And your sister, Teresa?”
“Working in New York in publishing.”
“How nice.”
“Yes, my folks are very proud of her. We all are.”
“Is she married?” Trudy queried politely.
Robert nodded. “To her high school sweetheart.”
“That’s sweet,” Trudy said. “Was it an old love rekindled, or have they been together the whole time?”
Robert’s eyes fell on Isabel, who watched him intently.
“They’ve been together ever since the tenth grade.”
“You see, Kip. Things like that can last.” Then, by way of explanation, she said to Robert, “My husband’s always saying they can’t. That people who fall in love young don’t stay together.”
“Just look at Romeo and Juliet,” Kip said. “You can’t say that didn’t spell disaster.”
“That was a play, Daddy,” Isabel said.
“Ah! But fiction mimics life. Isn’t that what you always say, dear?” he asked Trudy.
Her mouth fell open. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Don’t mind him,” Isabel said to Robert, regarding her father. “Daddy doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.”
“That’s patently untrue,” Kip protested. “Just ask your mother what I got her for our last anniversary. Go on, ask.”
Trudy sighed. “Very lovely season tickets… To the Chargers basketball games.”
“I rest my case,” Kip said proudly. “Can’t get any more romantic than that!”
Trudy shook her head at her husband, but Robert could tell it was in fondness. Despite his foibles, Mrs. Miller still apparently adored her husband. “Do Teresa and her husband have children?” she asked.
“They’ve got two now, with one on the way.”
“And you?” Kip prodded. “You’re a few years older, but never…?”
“Dad,” Isabel admonished, “that’s really none of our business.”
“Why not?
“Because, it’s… You know.” She shrugged. “Personal.”
“Well, I don’t know what’s so personal about it. An old friend of the family shows up here. I want to know about his life. There’s no reason he wouldn’t tell me.” He gave Robert a pointed stare. “Unless he’s got something to hide. Ouch!” He reached down under the table to rub his shin, the one that Trudy had apparently just kicked.
“Let me get some of these plates out of the way,” Trudy said, standing. She glanced around at their faces. “Then I can serve coffee, if you’d like.”
“Sit back down, Trudy,” Kip commanded. “We’re not finished yet.”
“I think Mom’s right,” Isabel began.
Robert slowly raised a hand, then met all of their eyes. “It’s okay. I don’t mind talking about it.” He paused, then spoke to Kip. “The truth is, sir, there was