(CONTINUED FROM PREVIOUS ARTICLE)
Ian sat down heavily, causing Ben to bounce and giggle. Rachel expected him to lean over and kiss Cassie on the cheek, but he put his hand behind her ear and pulled her in for a deep and fleshy kiss. Naturally, Ben tried to pull their heads apart.
Ian laughed. “Hey, kid, this kind of passion is why you’re here, don’t interfere!”
Who on earth is this? wondered Rachel.
“Hi Rach,” grinned Ian. “How are you? Ben, you remember Auntie Rachel?”
Rachel smiled in sudden guilt – she resented Ian for pointing it out, but she hadn’t spent much time with her nephew lately.
“Butterfly!” he shouted.
Rachel laughed.
“That’s right!” said Ian. “She brought you that butterfly wand from New York – from here!”
Ben cried out a Japanese phrase that the wand had burbled when he pushed the button. Something about “This, a guy, a little perfect guy, this, a perfect little funny guy…”
“Exactly!”
“Good to see you,” said Rachel. “What’s new?”
Ian blew through his lips. “Oh, work, as usual – crazy stuff, all very exciting. I got a promotion, I’m a project lead at the moment – the project lead, I am the one… We’re trying to find a way to lend out resources for interest, without compromising the need for people to keep their own keys.” He laughed. “Sorry, that’s a lot of jargon, you guys have eaten?”
They both nodded.
“Ben, you hungry buddy?”
Ben had always had a supernaturally acute sense of smell. “Pudding!” he cried, his eyes widening.
The waiter arrived and deposited the steaming dessert on the table. “Going to need a couple of extra spoons I see!”
Ben reached for the pudding, but Ian clasped his son’s hands decisively. “No Ben, not before lunch.”
Cassie smiled. “Oh, come on, it’s just a bit of bread pudding!”
Ben said: “I can eat bread!” The first tones of whining manifested.
Ian frowned. “Cassie,” he murmured, “what are you doing?”
“A bite? It’s just a bite.”
“You know we’re trying to control this sugar thing.”
Rachel laughed. “Oh my God, you’ve become Arlo!”
Ian shot her a ‘you’re not helping’ look. Rachel recoiled in genuine surprise. Never seen that before!
Giving up on the adults, Ian turned to his son. “What did we talk about with sugar?”
Ben twisted in his father’s lap, as if trying to evade the wind of his words.
“Ben?” Ian’s face was stern, solid – but not unkind, Rachel noticed.
“Not before – food.”
“We made that deal, right?”
Ben eventually nodded, as if hoping his father was blind and could not see it.
“Remember how I promised to take you out of daycare today so we can come down here for lunch? Do you remember?”
Another nod.
“Now you wouldn’t like it if you couldn’t trust my promises, right?”
Ben did not know whether to nod or shake his head.
The waiter returned with two spoons. “The small one for you,” he smiled, handing one to Ian, “and the big one for the young gentlemen here.”
Ian shot the waiter a look, and took the second spoon in the same moment that Ben grabbed it.
There was a pause. Ben glared at his father, then at the spoon. His cheeks began to redden.
“Ben, let go please.”
Again, the two women saw the waiter wanting to apologize – but, surely afraid of some form of social media blowback, he beat a hasty retreat.
Ben stared at the desert, gripping the spoon.
Rachel saw her sister open her mouth, surely to say: “Just one bite, don’t make a scene.”
Ian shot her a look, and she said nothing.
Ian said: “How about neither of us have dessert – I won’t eat either.”
Ben looked from the dessert to his father, then back again.
Cassie’s cheeks were white. She shifted in her seat.
Ian murmured: “Are you thinking of making a scene, buddy? Gonna have a tantrum?”
Ben’s lips curled in an upside down ‘u.’
“Don’t do it, buddy. We will get up and leave if you try. I want to enjoy taking you out of daycare, Ben. I want to trust your word about sugar, like you trust my word about today.” Ian’s voice lowered. “And I don’t care if you make a scene.” He gestured at the restaurant. “I don’t even know these people.”
Ben’s fierce eyes slowly faded, and he let go of the spoon.
“Sweet!” cried his father. “I mean – good!”
They ordered some more mac and cheese for Ben, and then Ian turned to Rachel.
“I’m sorry about that,” she expected Ian to say – not because he had done anything wrong, but because it just seemed – polite, to apologize for something that made someone else uncomfortable. She knew it was crazy, but it seemed – proper.
Ian made no apologies.
“I’m guessing Cassie told you the great news?”
“Oh yes – congratulations!”
“How are things with Arlo?”
You’re saying that like it has some kind of – direct connection!
Ian’s eyes were clear, curious.
Rachel frowned. “Things are good, good. He’s looking for a promotion at the – zoo… Things are kind of crazy in the science world at the moment, unless it’s pharmaceuticals. We’re going rock-climbing this weekend.”
Ben started fussing out of boredom. Rachel expected Ian to hand over his phone, but he just asked the waiter for paper and crayons.
Ian laughed. “Rock-climbing, that’s cool – ha ha, I vaguely remember having the time for that kind of stuff!”
Why is he needling me this way? thought Rachel angrily. “Oh, it’s more than a hobby – he’s entering these competitions, they climb the walls like crazy spiders, you should watch the videos.”
“Oh? And what does he win?”
Rachel’s neck felt hot. “He’s just really into – physical excellence.”
“For what?”
“Excuse me?”
Ian shrugged. “I’m just curious. What is all this physical excellence for? He’s not an athlete, he’s not a model – good-looking guy though. It’s gotta be expensive, takes up a lot of time, but I’m not sure where it leads.”
Rachel frowned. “But – it looks like you’ve been working out.”
Ian nodded. “Yeah, I realize that play fighting with Ben here wasn’t quite cutting it, so I got some weights and a bench in the garage.”
Cassie smiled. “And he’s changed his diet!”
Rachel laughed and put her spoon down. “Oh, you and Arlo should now have a lot more to talk about!” She ticked off her fingers. “Sweet potatoes, salmon, oats, eggs, avocados, fat bombs. I don’t think I’m even allowed to smell this dessert!”
“When the cat is away…” said Cassie, scooping up some pudding.
“No fair!” cried Ben angrily.
Ian glanced at her, frowning. “No, Ben, mommy has already had her lunch.”
“No fair!” he repeated, louder.
Ian said: “Do we really need to eat this in front of him right now?”
Cassie shrugged. “You said making deals would work…”
Rachel could see Ian’s jaw muscles bulge, and had flashbacks to endless Tom Cruise movies.
Ben pounded his fist on the table, making the remaining cutlery clatter loudly. “Want some!”
Cassie’s full spoon paused in midair.
“Cassie – don’t you dare!” cried Ian. The waiter appeared in the middle distance. People glanced up. “Ben, please don’t raise your voice. You’re not having any dessert.”
Ben burst into tears. “Mommy has some, Auntie has some, I don’t have any - I never get anything!”
Cassie ducked her head. “Don’t hand him to me!”
Ian stared at her incredulously.
She said: “You can see him winding himself up, you know how this ends.”
Ian jumped up, pulling his son - then realized that Ben’s hands were clutching the tablecloth. The plates, desert and cutlery jerked dangerously across the table.
“Nooooo!” screamed Ben in full toddler meltdown operatics.
Cassie shrank back, staring at her belly in bottomless shame.
Rachel skidded her chair back a little, to make some distance and signal to the restaurant that she was not the mother.
Ben detached his left hand from the tablecloth, then raised it like a claw towards his father’s face.
“Ben!” cried Ian, grabbing his son’s wrist with his one free hand.
“You promised!” screamed Ben.
“We’re out,” said Ian, his face dark. “Sorry Rachel.”
Rachel shrugged.
Still holding his wriggling son’s wrist, Ian struggled to get around the table. With her foot, Rachel pulled a chair away from his path.
“Don’t want to!” screamed Ben. “You never…”
Cassie leaned forward, covering her face with her hands.
Rachel’s lips were compressed white lines.
Lurching from side to side as his son struggled, Ian somehow made it past the table.
Turning to his wife, his eyes dark with passion, Ian cried out: “Can we please get him out of daycare?”
Cassie shrank back, turning her hands as if to ward off a blow.
The restaurant was utterly silent, as one of the most essential questions hung in the air of every mind and heart.
No one even got up to open the front door to help Ian – he had to struggle mightily with his son and a latch in order to escape.
Please God let no one have been filming, thought Rachel desperately.
