Tangling Hearts

131. Annie

Chapter One Hundred Thirty-One

ANNIE

I cannot get enough of this pan-seared sea bass. Or these mashed potatoes. Or this Chicken Yakitori. Or these oysters. Or this…

M argaret smiles to Joe, briefly interrupting him. “Can you pass me the last lobster tempura?”

Damn. There goes that.

He doesn’t miss a beat as he hands the appetizer plate to his powerhouse wife, C.F.O. of the ad agency Location Times Three, where Brendan works. His focus is locked on Brendan, the Ebola virus controversy heavy on his mind. “Look, they should have never let them get on that plane.”

Brendan leans forward, a juicy chunk of filet mignon on his fork shining in the candlelight. “And then the one woman went on a cruise! They said they’re monitoring them. How? Don’t monitor them, make them stay inside!” He slides the steak into his mouth, his mind on the subject.

“How is it?” I ask, eyeing some for myself.

Distracted, Brendan mumbles, “Good.” To Joe, he says, “They’re saying that’s amoral,” disgusted with the logic.

Sliding another oyster into my mouth, I glance around 5A5 Steakhouse. It’s interesting to me how far I’ve come, that I’m one of these people now, sitting next to corporate types in a white table-clothed booth in a five star restaurant, not having to worry about the bill. It almost feels normal. Margaret is wearing a beige sheath dress, for Pete’s sake! I never would have hung out with a woman like her before. Which still shows in our lack of conversation. The men are the focal point…and so is this food.

So mouth-watering good, this food.

Joe shouts, his hand articulating the point, “Exactly! It’s amoral to quarantine them??! How is that amoral? Isn’t it amoral to all the people they’re possibly infecting, to let them get onto a damn plane in the first place? Or a cruise ship with thousands of other people?”

Margaret adds, dryly, looking around to all of us. “Not to mention all the places the ship stops for sight-seeing.”

“Brendan, can I have a bite of that?” I’ve got my fork ready and waiting but he doesn’t hear me.

“I’ve heard it’s because Africa is going to be the perfect place to start a future world. But that’s a little crazy isn’t?”

Joe shakes his head, picking up his glass of ninety-dollar Scotch. “Is it?” His eyebrows rise. “Is it crazy?”

With my eye still on the filet mignon, I offer, “Well, if you’re suggesting population control…”

Joe puts his glass back down and meets my eyes. “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

“First of all, that’s horrifying.”

Margaret nods, holding her half-empty wine glass to her lips. “It’s terrible.”

Brendan slices off a nice little chunk of steak as he talks. “Here’s the thing about population control theories. If you’re going to let an outbreak happen, aren’t you worried about the people you love getting affected, too?” He slides it over onto my plate. He did hear me! I grin, popping it happily into my mouth.

“Thank you, baby,” I mumble over a yummy mouthful.

Joe argues, “I don’t think they’re thinking that far ahead.”

Margaret shakes her head as if she knows all. “No one ever plays the tape all the way through.” At my look, she explains, “To see what happens at the end. Everyone just jumps off with an idea never thinking what will happen.”

“Ah. Well, this is a wonderful dinner conversation. Disease and murder. Yay,” I say with a smile, not offended, but looking to lighten it up a bit.

Neither Joe nor Brendan wants to let go, but Brendan makes a noise and shuts the conversation down anyway. “It just makes no sense is all.”

Joe agrees. “It’s a fucking disease.” His hand slices the air. “I’m sorry they got it. But they got it. Now that they have it, let’s make sure it stays put. How hard is that to understand?”

“Call the president,” Margaret smiles.

He leans back. “Yeah. Would that I could. So what about you kids? I figured for sure we’d have to cancel tonight because of the baby.”

“Thank you for meeting us early. I really appreciate it.”

Brendan explains with a tight smile. “Annie won’t stop working. It’s driving me crazy.”

I pick up my water, and keep my eyes on Joe. He’s safer.

“He’s taking his sweet time coming out, isn’t he? You’re big as a house,” Margaret laughs.

I choke on the water, wishing I hadn’t eaten so much in front of the woman. Wiping my mouth, I mutter, annoyed, “Um…Thank you?”

Brendan reaches over and touches my hair. Margaret commented on it when we sat down, her own much shorter and less healthy looking. Her jealousy was something he apparently caught. “Look at this. See how beautiful her hair is? It’s grown like five inches in a few months.”

“You’re glowing,” Joe says with a genuine smile.

Margaret sucks on her teeth, her attention now arrested by something on the tablecloth. “Where do you think they get these made? Not China, I hope?” she mutters, picking it up to eye it.

Brendan glances to me and I smile a thank you to him. He winks. Maybe in another year, I’ll be able to handle women like Margaret in a smoother way, deflecting the odd jab that always seems to come when I least expect it. I’ve only been in this little circle for about, oh, nine months? She used to be friends with Rebecca, the woman Brendan ‘dated’ for several years before I came back into the picture. Margaret and Rebecca are a lot alike, so not only do I have to deal with replacing her friend, I have to deal with replacing her mirror image…ish. That a girl like me could replace a woman like her is terrifying to her.

A waiter comes to remove our plates. “Can I interest you in some Tira Misu? Some coffee?”

I groan, “I’d love some coffee! But I can’t.”

“I’ll have some,” Margaret smiles.

Brendan smiles to himself and balls up his cloth napkin. “We’d love to stay, but Annie’s got to go in to her bar. She let her employees have the holiday off.” He threw in that to remind Margaret I own the place, and I could just kiss him for it. “…and so we have to get going. Can I have the check, please?” he asks the waiter with easy authority. The guy nods and exits quickly.

Joe empties his glass. “Brendan, you’re not getting dinner.”

Leaning back in the booth and casually resting his arm around me with his thumb caressing my shoulder, Brendan smirks. “I am, Joe. I already gave him my card before we sat down.”

Joe laughs. “You jerk!”

Margaret’s impressed, too of course. My husband is a classy man, something I’m very proud of.

Brendan looks at me, meeting my eyes. “It was Annie’s idea.”

I smile, amused by his lie. “It was the least we could do for making you eat at 5:30 p.m. I mean, who does that?”

Joe chuckles. “I know, right? What are we, senior citizens?”

Margaret loses the stick up her ass and joins in. “Early bird special anyone?” We all appreciate her making the mood light and friendly again. “You know what? No more news until after the holiday. We can watch It’s a Wonderful Life , or Rudolph Came to Town , or whatever those animation movies are called,” she smiles. “But no more news.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I exclaim, impressed. “I’m in!”

Joe grumbles and Brendan says zip. But at Margaret’s look, Joe shrugs. “Oh alright. It’s only a couple of days.”

“You can solve the world’s problems later. What you put into your system, affects you. It’s a fact.”

I think about this, never having considered it before. Does that apply to all things?

“Alright, I’m in,” Brendan says just as the bill arrives. He signs away, leaving a hefty tip. “Merry Christmas,” he tells the guy, handing it back to him.

“Merry Christmas! Thank you, sir!”