Chapter 4: What Courtney Said When the Room Emptied
The relatives from Denver left first.
They said their goodbyes to Walter quietly, shook hands with no one in particular, and were gone before the main course arrived.
The guitar trio packed up around the same time, the lead player catching my eye as he passed and giving me a small nod I hadn't expected.
That left the core of it: Walter, Shirley, Courtney, Mindy, Lance, Gary, and me at the back table with my children.
Paige had fallen asleep against my arm.
Lucas was working through a plate of pasta with the focused seriousness of a boy who had decided the best thing he could do was pretend everything was normal.
Mindy came to the back table first.
She didn't sit.
She stood at the edge of it with her arms crossed, and when she spoke she kept her voice low, which I understood was not for the sake of the children but for the sake of the other diners beyond the private room's glass partition.
"You humiliated this entire family tonight."
"Mindy."
"In front of people we've known for twenty years."
"Mindy."
"You had no right—"
"Your sister's daughter was crying," I said.
"You told her the important adults sit in front.
She's seven years old.
She picked out her dress because she wanted to look nice for her grandfather." I looked up at her.
"I had every right."
Mindy's mouth opened and closed.
Gary appeared behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.
"Let's go back to the table."
She let him steer her away.
I watched her go and felt nothing in particular, which surprised me.
Courtney came twenty minutes later.
She sat across from me.
Lucas glanced at her and went back to his pasta.
Paige didn't stir.
"I need you to understand something," Courtney said.
"All right."
"I didn't know about the $85,000.
My father never told me."
I looked at her.
"I believe you."
She blinked.
She had been braced for an argument.
"But that's not the point," I said.
"The point is Paige.
The point is Lucas.
The point is that you heard what Mindy said at the hotel and you told her 'not now.' You saw the seating chart and you told me not to make a scene.
You watched your daughter cry and you looked away."
"I was trying to keep the peace."
"I know."
"My father's health—"
"I know, Courtney."
She stopped.
"I've been keeping the peace for twelve years," I said.
"I kept it when your mother didn't say hello to me at our own anniversary dinner.
I kept it when Lance called me Brandon the Bank at Christmas and everyone laughed.
I kept it when Mindy told Lucas his drawings were childish and you said she was just being honest." I set down my fork.
"I kept it every single time because I thought if I kept it long enough, something would change."
Courtney's eyes were wet.
"Brandon, I love you."
"I know that too."
"Then what do you want me to say?"
Lucas looked up from his plate.
He was nine.
He was listening to every word.
"Not tonight," I said.
"Not in front of them."
Courtney nodded.
She reached across the table and touched Paige's hair very gently, the way she used to when Paige was a baby and had just fallen asleep in her arms.
Then she stood and went back to the main table.
I watched her sit down next to her mother.
Shirley said something to her immediately.
Courtney shook her head.
Shirley said it again.
Courtney picked up her water glass and didn't answer.
Small.
But I noticed.
Lance came to the back table last, around nine o'clock, when Paige was still asleep and Lucas had moved on to dessert.
He didn't sit.
He stood with his hands in his pockets and looked at the tablecloth.
"I'm going to pay you back," he said.
"Okay."
"I mean it.
I've been talking to someone about a position in Phoenix.
If it comes through—"
"Lance." I kept my voice even.
"You've told me about a position in Phoenix twice before.
Once in 2019 and once in 2021."
His jaw moved.
"If the position comes through," I said, "I'll be glad for you.
But that's not what tonight was about."
"Then what was it about?"
I looked at him for a long moment.
"My kids."
He stood there another few seconds.
Then he walked away.
Walter never came to the back table.
He sat at the main table with his hands folded in front of him and his untouched birthday cake to his left, and he didn't speak to anyone for the rest of the evening.
At one point I caught him looking at me across the room.
He looked away first.
The check came.
The waiter set it near my elbow out of habit.
I picked it up.
Looked at it.
Set it back down in the center of the table.
Nobody moved to take it.
I waited four minutes.
Then I stood, lifted Paige into my arms, and nodded to Lucas.
"Let's go, champ."
We walked out.
Behind us, I heard Shirley say sharply: "Someone needs to get that."
I didn't hear who did.
Back in the hotel room, I tucked Paige into bed and sat on the edge of Lucas's mattress while he brushed his teeth.
When he came out of the bathroom he stood in front of me in his pajamas with his hair sticking up on one side.
"Dad," he said.
"Are you and Mom going to be okay?"
I looked at my son.
Nine years old, hand on his sister's shoulder in a restaurant full of adults who should have known better.
"I don't know yet," I said.
"But you and Paige are going to be fine.
That I know for certain."
He thought about that.
Then he climbed into bed and pulled the covers up.
"Okay," he said.
I turned off the light.
In the hallway, my phone buzzed.
A text from a number I didn't recognize.
*We need to talk before you leave San Diego.
May you like
There's something about Walter you don't know.
— R*
