language. “I’m sorry,” Renée said. “I just, I dunno, kinda felt like speaking my truth.”
Anna thought her reply made absolutely no sense at all, but remembered that she was only thirteen. Feeling like it was up to her to break the tension between Ryan and his kids, Anna reverted to her best role. Mother. “This is awkward for you both. I understand. If you don’t want to be here, maybe we can do this another time?” She glanced at Ryan. Anger had hardened his handsome face. “Or maybe I can make dinner at my house. Christina has been dying to meet you both.”
She was saying whatever she could to fill the silence, and if Ryan didn’t pick up on what she was trying to do soon, she did not see how she could sit through their behavior through dinner and dessert. This was not going as she’d imagined.
The tuxedo-clad waiter appeared then, filling their crystal glasses with ice water. “Have you looked at our wines tonight?” he asked.
Anna knew what they had, and so did Ryan. They’d shared a bottle of Cuvee d’Elme on their last visit. “I’ll have a ginger ale,” Anna said.
“I want a Coke with no ice,” Renée said. “And in the biggest glass you have.”
Ann watched Ryan, the corners of his mouth turned down. “She’ll have a Coke, in whatever size glass it’s served in.” He cast a warning look at Renée, then directed his stare to Patrick. “Tell the man what you want. A Coke?”
“A Coke is good,” Patrick mumbled, repeating what his dad suggested.
“Two Cokes and I’ll have a ginger ale as well,” Ryan told the waiter, his tone dismissive.
Anna waited for Ryan to do or say something, but all he did was give both kids the evil eye. She realized they’d embarrassed him but knew that if he lowered himself to their level, they would delight in his fury. He was furious, too, and Anna could see it in his eyes as his hands strangled the white linen napkin on his lap. Definitely not a good sign.
“How about we start over?” Anna said. “Renée, aren’t you starting high school this year?”
Apparently, Renée’s attitude changed on the turn of a dime. “I am, and I can’t wait. Dad says that Christina is going into ninth grade, too. I really would like to meet her. What school does she go to?”
This is more like it, Anna thought. She glanced at Ryan, seeing some of the tension ease, his death grip on the napkin loosen. “She’s going to Bishop Coerver. She’s been at St. Cecilia’s since second grade. What about you?”
Renée chewed on her lip. “I don’t know yet,” she replied. “We’re in that new school district change.”
Anna hadn’t been to Ryan’s house but she knew where he lived. He’d been hesitant when she’d asked about stopping by one evening when she’d had free time on her hands, telling her the kids weren’t quite ready for another woman to see the home he’d shared with their mother. Thinking this odd, given how long ago his wife had died and the fact Renée had never really known her mother, who had passed away when she was just a baby, she told Ryan it was fine, and she’d stop by another time.
“The school choice,” Ryan explained. “Renée took a while to decide where she wanted to go. She’s going to Lubbock High, her third option. Not too happy about it, but it’s what happens when you aren’t responsible.”
“That’s a tough choice to make when you haven’t been to high school. Maybe you should consider Bishop Coerver?” Anna suggested.
“That’s a private school. Dad can’t afford it. He can barely afford Patrick’s tuition at Tech. I can’t see him shelling out anything for a private school. Right, Dad?” Renée asked.
Ryan looked down, his hands knotting the cloth napkin again. Anna felt incredibly sorry for him. It appeared as though Renée was trying her best to humiliate him. Never having been in this position, she didn’t know what to say.
“Renée, why are you doing this? Is it because I wouldn’t let you get a tattoo? Or another piercing? You’re acting like an idiot, and I don’t like it. You will apologize to Anna for being such a little brat.”
“Ryan!” Anna said, stunned that he would speak to his daughter so crudely, no matter how she was behaving. He was the adult.
“I’m sorry, okay?” she said to her dad. “I still think I’m old enough to get a sleeve tattoo. What do