Chapter Nine
“Hi, Lark!” said Chloe as she and Lorenzo went into the Naked Oyster. “It’s so nice to see you again.”
“Hi, Chloe! How are you? How’s your garden doing?”
“Great. Loving this sunshine. Thanks again for stopping by with those tulips a few weeks ago. That was the nicest.”
Behind her, Lorenzo growled.
“Do you have a reservation for Dr.Satan?” Lark asked innocently.
“Come this way, please, Dr.Santini, Lark.” Chloe grabbed the plethora of menus and led them to the same table they’d sat at the first time.
“I guess this is our place now, huh?” Lark said as she sat down.
“Brian will be right over,” Chloe said. “Enjoy your dinner.”
“Send Brian over now,” Lorenzo said. “I don’t have time to waste.”
“Tell Brian I’ll protect him,” Lark added. “Lorenzo, you seriously have the worst manners. Didn’t your mother or Noni teach you better than that?”
“They did not.”
“Well, allow me. We say please, and thank you, and excuse me. It shows people you respect them.”
“Why would I respect a waiter or some twit who passes out menus?”
Lark stiffened. “Because they’re humans with brains and hearts and feelings and histories and friends and families. You might be surprised at how interesting people can be if you’d stop trying to prove how superior you are.”
“I don’t need to prove anything.”
“My God. You’re horrible.” She almost smiled. “So smart, so gifted with a scalpel, so unpleasant with fellow humans.”
Brian appeared. “I’ll just have club soda with lime,” Lark said.
“Tap water, no interruptions,” Lorenzo said.
Brian started to leave, but Lark grabbed his arm. “Hold on, Brian, I think Dr.Santini forgot to say something.”
Lorenzo glared. “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.” She glared back and didn’t let go of Brian’s arm.
Lorenzo rolled his eyes. “Tap water, please, and please, no interruptions. Thanks.”
Lark gasped with feigned delight. “See? Wasn’t that easy, Lorenzo? Brian, I’ll have…oh, the Kobe burger, please. Medium rare. Thanks. And, Lorenzo? What would you like?”
“Nothing. You had questions, this is a convenient spot, let’s get this over with.”
Lark looked at the menu. “He’ll also have a burger.”
“No, I won’t. I’ll have six oysters, the roasted chicken and asparagus.”
“Don’t forget to say please,” Lark said.
He stared at her, unamused. “Please,” he said after a beat.
“You got it, you two,” Brian said. “And I’ll be totally cool about not interrupting.”
“Thank you,” Lorenzo growled.
“You get an A for effort,” Lark said. “An F for sincerity, but it’s a start.”
“Why did we have to meet again?”
“Because we’re dating, Lorenzo,” she said.
“No, we’re not.”
“We’re coconspirators, then, making you feel less alone at your family events and giving your sweet grandmother the impression you’ve found happiness.”
“Accurate. And after the wedding, we never have to speak again.”
“Which I’m really looking forward to,” she said. “The never-speaking part. By the way, you said Noni was on hospice, right?”
“Correct.”
“How is she?”
“Fine.”
She waited, but he said nothing more. “I just got approved to be a hospice volunteer. In case you need anything.”
“Why would I need anything from a volunteer? I’m a doctor.”
“As am I. But neither of us works in hospice, do we? I’m volunteering there, so let me know if you need me to do anything for your grandmother.” He failed to acknowledge her words. “Anyway, Lorenzo,” she went on, “about this fake relationship. Your sisters both texted me separately, then started a group text, and we’re all having drinks on Sunday.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, why?” he asked. “That’s not necessary.”
“Right. But they’re nice, and I’m nice, and when nice people meet, they often want to spend more time together, enjoying each other’s company. It’s called friendship.”
“They’re not your friends.”
“Friends in the making,” she said. “Anyway, I thought maybe we could change tactics here. I feel bad lying to your siblings. Can we tell them? They’re so nice, and—”
“No. I’d look ridiculous.”
“Wouldn’t they understand, though? You’re doing it to make Noni happy?”
Another eye roll. He was going to detach a retina if he kept this up. “They wouldn’t understand, and it would become fuel for mockery, gossip and speculation, which is what I was hoping to avoid by asking you to be my…whatever you are. Besides, confidentiality is part of our agreement, Dr.Smith.”
“Yeah, about that. My whole family knows.” He sighed with immense irritation. “I told you I wouldn’t lie to them. For what it’s worth, my grandfather and brother are totally into it.”
“This is an arrangement between colleagues, Dr.Smith. Your benefit is professional. Mine is personal. Although I think it’s fair to say you’ll also benefit personally, if people think you’re dating me.”
She managed not to snort. “Yeah, okay. But if Sofia asks me to be a bridesmaid—”
“You’ll decline.”
“I was kidding.” She took a sip of water. “But don’t be surprised if I’m asked. I’ve been in ten wedding parties so far.”
“Why would you want to be friends with my sisters? Don’t you have enough of your own? How many friends do you need? Are you trying to prove something by the sheer number of them? Do they fill some empty hole inside you?” Irritation flew off him the way water flew off a dog after a bath.
“That’s very insightful. Yes, friends do fill an empty hole in me,” she said calmly. “The only difference between you and me is that I know there’s something missing. You don’t.”
“Possibly because nothing is.”
“Oh, there is, believe me, Dr.Satan. It’s not normal to be so…aggravated all the time. Especially with your family.”
“Family is the best place to be aggravated.”
“Why? What’s wrong with yours?”
He spared her a glance. “My brother is about as deep as a puddle,” he began. “His hobbies include eating tacos and watching baseball.”
Nothing wrong with that. They lived in Red Sox Nation, and who didn’t love tacos? “He volunteers with Big Brothers Big Sisters, too.”
Lorenzo’s head snapped up. “Is that true? How do you know that?”
“How do you not know that?” She sipped her club soda; Brian had slipped them their drinks like a ninja. “Your mom told me.”
“When?”
“At your house. That’s what happens when people talk.” Especially when women were clearing up after dinner. Anita had seemed very intent on listing the qualities of each of her children, which was awfully sweet. For Lorenzo, she’d said, “The hardest-working, smartest guy on the East Coast,” to which Sofia had retorted, “Don’t let him hear you say that, Mom! You have to say North America!” and they had all laughed, but not unkindly.
“Anyway,” Lark said, “I get it. You don’t have a lot in common with your brother, that’s clear. But your sisters—”
“Sofia is marrying a man with limited earning potential and will probably have a baby within the year. She has no goals outside of that. Isabella could’ve been a doctor, and took the easy way out by becoming a nurse.”
“I should tell every nurse in New England you just said that, then stand back and watch them come for you.”
“She’s smart enough. Just too lazy.”
“You’re the first person on earth to have called a nurse lazy. Maybe she wanted to actually take care of patients, not just stick her head in the door, read the nurse’s notes and make decisions from there.”
“At least she should get her APRN.” He paused as Brian returned with their dinners, and looked up and said “Thank you” so sharply that Brian nearly dropped her burger. Thankfully, he did not. The lad shot her a sympathetic look and melted back into the restaurant.
She took a bite of the incredibly delicious, perfect burger and closed her eyes. Had she had lunch today? No. Half a granola bar in between patients. “So your relationship with your family isn’t great. Why is that? I need to know if you want them to think we actually spend time together.”
He took a joyless bite of his chicken and chewed. “I wasn’t raised at home,” he said. “My parents, who like to think of themselves as devoted and adoring, shipped me off to school when I was seven. I stayed with my grandmother. Alone. She did the bulk of raising me.”
Okay, that was grounds for being on edge, even if Lark thought he should maybe be over it by now. “Why did they do that?”
“There was a school for gifted boys. Noni lived in Brookline, the same town where the school is, so my parents had me live there.”
“St. George’s?” she asked.
“Yes. How did you know?”
“I used to go running there. Beautiful campus.” It was an institution, St. George’s, all the boys wearing uniforms—blazers with insignias and shorts, knee socks, British-style. The school had produced at least two Nobel Prize winners, a dozen members of Congress, a surgeon general and probably a member of SCOTUS. “Did you like it there?”
“The school was fine.”
“And you’re obviously close to your grandmother. It doesn’t sound like a Dickens novel. More like Hogwarts.”
“Yes. But at the time, it felt a lot like…abandonment.”
Lark’s heart lurched. She pictured a little blond boy staring at the family car as it drove away. Sleeping in a room by himself, no chatter or company from his siblings, just the quiet. The pressure and strangeness of a new school. Coming home to one person and one person only after having had two parents, a brother and a sister or two.
She reached across the table and put her hand over his. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That must’ve been really hard. And confusing.”
He withdrew his hand. “It sent a message. The expectations were different for me. I was being groomed, almost, to be the success I am today.”
“Groomed?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe ‘given special opportunities’ is a better way to think of that.” She ate a french fry. “Do you feel like a success?”
“Would you like to see my W-2?” he returned.
“I’m not talking about money, Lorenzo. Your dad, for example, is also successful. He has a loving wife and four children and seems like a very happy man. You don’t have to see an income statement to know that.”
“Easy to be happy when your son buys you a house, pays for vacations, covers the tuition of your daughters, pays for your mother’s care and can, at any moment, give whatever else is needed. Of course he’s happy. Wouldn’t anyone be happy in those circumstances?”
Wow. A lot of bitterness there. “There’s a saying my mom brings out once in a while. ‘You’re only as happy as your least happy child.’ Maybe your father wishes things were different between the two of you.”
“Maybe he should’ve thought about that before he sent me off, then.”
She nodded. Patted his reluctant hand. “I get it,” she said. “They gave you advantages, but there was a price. It makes sense that you’re hurt.”
“I’m not hurt, Lark,” he said. “It’s just how things are.”
“You ever talk to him about this stuff?”
“No. Of course not. I’ve never talked to anyone about it.” He glanced sharply at her, a little startled.
“Until today,” she said with a small smile.
He started to speak, stopped, then said, “You won’t tell anyone about that, will you?”
For the first time, a little humanity sat like a baby bird between them, fragile and afraid. “Of course not.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiled again. “Well, I guess I just wanted to let you know that I really like your family, and your mom wants the Santinis to meet all the Smiths. She wants to throw a picnic.”
“Never going to happen.”
She laughed. “Okay, Dr.Satan. Do you want dessert?”
He narrowed his eyes a little, and then, somewhat miraculously, allowed a small smile. “No. But you go ahead. I don’t want to deprive you of the pleasure of running up the tab as much as possible.” He looked at his phone. “And I like watching you eat.”
Okay, then. That…that might’ve been a compliment. At least, it was an admission that his time with her wasn’t all agony.
“Molten lava cake,” she told Brian. “Two spoons, okay? Just in case Satan here changes his mind.”
She was starting to understand why Lorenzo Santini was so emotionally strangled. That poor little boy. No matter how smart he’d been, how glamorous the school, she bet it had hurt, being sent away from his parents and little brother, infant sister. Then to have Izzy born while he was in school…well. It was hard to imagine. When Robbie had come home from the hospital, they’d all been obsessed with him. She and Addie had been six at the time, and Lark used to sneak out of bed and stand beside his crib, reaching through the slats to touch his little hand.
Getting to know people was one of Lark’s favorite things to do. And eating out in a nice restaurant with a handsome guy…that wasn’t awful, either. It had been a really, really long time.
She pulled into Joy’s driveway, a little surprised to see her mother’s car there. She saw the lights were on, so she ran up the steps to Joy’s door, knocked and went in. “Hello?”
“We’re in here!” Joy called. “Your mom and me!”
Lark went in and saw her mother curled up on the white couch, Connery in her lap, a bottle of wine on the table.
“Hi, honey, how was your day?”
“Good! Is everything okay?” She looked at both women, who seemed quite relaxed, but there was a box of Kleenex next to Mom, a few wadded tissues next to her that Connery was eyeing for a snack. “Have you been crying, Mom?”
“Just feeling emotional today,” Mom said, taking a sip of wine.
“Everything is great,” Joy said. “Your mom’s going to be staying here for a little while. Isn’t that fun?”
“Why? Is something wrong?” Lark asked. Mom and Dad were never apart, not willingly. Mom would occasionally go stay with Aunt Grace for a night, but that was only twice a year or so. Less, even. “Where’s Dad?”
“Dad’s home,” Mom said. She didn’t look at Lark.
“And…um, why aren’t you with him?”
“There’s some work that needs to be done there,” Mom said. She took a sip of wine. “There may be something wrong with the septic system, and…” Her voice squeaked, and she coughed.
“And who wants to be around all that shit, right?” Joy supplied, squeezing her mom’s hand. “Have a drink, honey,” Joy said. “How are you?”
“I’m good, thanks.” Lark got a glass, poured a little wine and sat down. She’d never thought Mom and Joy had hit it off, and while a staycation at Joy’s was unexpected, it was also a little…sweet. On the surface, the two women had nothing in common. Joy was still fully made up, though it was after nine, and wore a green and blue caftan, five or six rings, two necklaces, bracelets, little kitten-heeled slippers with poufs on the toe. Meanwhile Mom’s hair was in need of a brush, and she wore faded blue cotton pajamas.
“Were you on a date with your fake doctor?” Mom asked.
“Real doctor, fake boyfriend,” Lark said. “And yes. Dinner.”
“Lark says he’s very handsome,” Joy said to Ellie.
“That is true,” Lark said. “And it was actually a little fun. Not him. Just…this. Doing something different.” Mom looked at her intently.
“Being in a couple, even if you’re not really in a couple,” Joy said. “Ellie, did you know I was in a fake marriage? Well, the marriage was real. And we did love each other. But not that way. He was my brother’s lover. This was my third husband.”
“Oh! Wow. There’s a story,” Mom said. “You’ll have to tell me sometime.”
Lark waited for Mom to pick apart her arrangement with Lorenzo, but instead, Mom just stared into her wine.
Joy reached across and patted Mom’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re here, Ellie. We’ll have so much fun.”
Something wasn’t right with this picture. She waited a beat, but neither Joy nor Mom said anything else.
“Well,” said Lark. “I have to get to bed. My shift starts at seven.” She stood up, kissed her mom, then gave Joy a hug. “Connery? My place or yours tonight?” The little dog leaped into her arms. “Guess I have custody till the morning, then. Good night, ladies.”
Maybe it was a trick of the light, but she thought she saw tears on her mother’s cheeks. “You okay, Mommy?” she asked from the doorway.
“Just fine, honey. Just fine.”