he’s here and he’s decided to play nice.
He strides straight over to Brett, holding out his hand to shake. “Hello, there, Brett is it?”
Brett nods, standing up out of his seat and returning the handshake. “Yes, sir. Brett Sanderson. Nice to meet you.”
My mom’s jaw tenses at their greeting, but she doesn’t say anything. Now that my dad’s being nice to him, I know she won’t be so rude. She never goes against my dad. She always follows his lead.
“Good to meet you, son,” my dad replies, clapping him on the back before rounding him to take his seat at the head of the table and pouring himself a glass of wine from the open bottle my mom has placed there. He doesn’t bother to pour her a glass, instead reaching for the spaghetti, and I watch as my mom pours her own.
I glance at Ellie, and when she cocks her head toward the food, I realize what she’s saying. I need to offer Brett some food. Maybe this will just be a quick meal, and the sooner we eat, the sooner he can leave. Ellie offers me a reassuring smile, and I’m so relieved she’s here. This is pretty alien territory for both of us. We’ve rarely had people over to the house when my dad’s around; we always avoided it as children.
I reach for the bowl of salad and pass it over to Brett, watching as he heaps it onto his plate before returning it back to me.
I add some salad to my own plate and hold it out to my sister.
“Take more of that, Abigail,” my mom says. “You know you’ve put on a little weight. No carbs for you.”
I pause, dumbfounded for a second. I had put on weight, but I’ve been so careful over the last couple of weeks and I know I’ve lost it, but here she is still calling me out in front of everyone. I swallow back a retort and don’t argue as I add more salad to my plate without looking at anybody else.
“So, you’re a friend on Abigail’s from school?” my dad asks, handing the bowl of spaghetti to Brett so he can serve himself some.
“Yes, sir.”
There’s an awkward silence that I feel like I should fill.
I clear my throat. “Brett is interested in law, Dad. He’s considering studying it after college.”
My dad is adding salad to his plate and doesn’t look up as he heaps dressing on top of it. “Oh yes?”
“Yeah, he’s the smartest kid in our class. Killed it on his SATS, was in a bunch of clubs throughout high school, is really well respected by all the teachers—well, by everyone, really—and is going to Harvard in the fall.”
That does make my dad look up. “Really?”
Brett doesn’t answer immediately, and I can see out of the corner of his eye that he’s turned his head to look at me, but I concentrate on staring at my plate. He probably didn’t know I knew all that about him. He probably didn’t think I was capable of saying nice things about him.
“Brett?” My dad’s voice has grown sharper at the lack of response from Brett.
“Sorry, yes, sir. I’m really look forward to the new challenges college will bring.”
“Harvard, huh?”
Brett nods.
“Expensive place.”
Brett blushes slightly, and I hate my dad for assuming that’s an issue for him. “I have a scholarship, a full ride.”
The same information that made my mom turn up her nose impresses my dad, because he knows how intelligent Brett must be to get a full ride, and not even just intelligent—it shows he’s focused and determined.
“And you’re interested in law?”
“Yes, sir. I’m trying to look ahead and think about my future, and I’d love to ask you some questions about your area of law and your journey of how you set up your own practice.”
My dad eyes him for a second, not saying anything, and my heart thuds nervously in my chest. I wish I could read my dad, wish just for once I knew what he was thinking, but I never have been able to tell.
Eventually my father nods, as though confirming something, and then he reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt and pulls out a business card, which he hands over to Brett. “Get in touch with my secretary, and we can set up a time for you to come down to the offices and see how we run things. I can answer any questions you have, and you can see how things