Chapter Eighteen
It took a moment for Eliza to register the hot coffee that spilled on her sleeve and dripped onto her hand. But she immediately recognized the voice that spoke to her. The same voice that had been projecting from the stage.
“So sorry! But you really should watch where you’re going,” Ross exclaimed.
Her eyes remained fixed on the spreading coffee stain. “It’s all right. It was my fault.” She was about to turn away when Caftan Lady reappeared.
“Oh dear! Let’s get you some napkins.”
With Caftan Lady’s hand under her elbow, she was steered toward the refreshment table.
“Here you go, dear.” Caftan Lady swabbed at the stain with navy blue paper napkins embossed with the Glenside School logo in gold. You know it’s an expensive private school when they have their own napkins.
Ross had followed them. “I guess I’ll get myself a fresh cup of coffee. Would you like one?”
Eliza forced herself to drag her eyes up to his face and could feel her pulse pounding in her throat. “No thanks, I’m fine. I was going to head out.”
Caftan Lady interrupted. “Let me just get some water. I don’t want the stain to set.”
“Oh, but...” Eliza turned toward her, but she was gone.
“Force of nature that woman is, I think.” Ross took a sip of his coffee. Absently, Eliza noted that he’d taken it black, as Laura had. Jack used to pile his with sugar. Until Carol. “So, what brought you to the talk tonight?”
“Oh. Um.” She paused. How the hell had she gotten herself into this ridiculous situation? Stupid Mo and her stupid suggestions. Stupid Eliza for thinking this would be a good idea.
He smirked. “So clearly you had absolutely nothing better to do and wandered in off the street?”
She laughed nervously. “Well.” Just stick with the truth. Or at least as close to it as you can get. “I work with Nourish Our Youth. We’re a nonprofit?—our mission is to support disadvantaged students, and we’re interested in educational policy and research...”
“Say no more. You work for a nonprofit. You needed the free food.” Ross pointed at the coffee cake. “Don’t let me interrupt your dinner.”
Really? Was that a joke? She couldn’t tell if he was trying to be cute or if she was being dismissed. Either way, now she was pissed off. Anger was an easier emotion to deal with than panic.
“Well, actually, we’re looking to make grants, but if you don’t need research funding, I can move on.” She hitched the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder and started to turn away.
He barked out a laugh and looked at her appraisingly. “Yeah, I deserved that. Good for you. What’s your name? I’m Ross. But you probably know that.”
She swallowed. Would her last name ring any bells? Did he know Laura’s married name? Presumably it had been twenty-seven years since they’d seen each other. “I’m Eliza. Levinger.” She didn’t see a flicker of recognition. As she watched for it, she noticed the lines creased around his eyes. It was the same face she’d seen in the prom and yearbook photos?—but his skin showed the years that had passed.
Caftan Lady reappeared with a sheaf of damp paper towels. “Here you go, dear. Let me know if you need more.”
“I’m sure this will be fine.” Eliza took them from her and dabbed at her sleeve. How soon could she make her escape?
“So, Eliza Levinger. Tell me more about Nourish Our Youth.”
She looked up; Ross was now standing with his arms crossed, a bemused expression on his face. Eyes so like her own were trained on her. It was eerie.
She struggled to push her brain into work mode. “We’ve been around since 1962...”
“Well, you haven’t been around since 1962. Probably more like?—what? 1992?”
Hilarious. Who is this asshole? Oh, right. He’s my father. “Something like that. Anyway, historically, NOY has...”
“Noy? What’s a Noy?”
She sighed. “Nourish Our Youth,” she repeated, carefully enunciating the words to emphasize their initial letters. “NOY is our acronym.”
“Gotcha.” Ross picked up a piece of coffee cake and took a large bite.
Eliza didn’t want to tell him that he’d sprinkled powdered sugar all down the front of his shirt.
“Go on.” He gestured with the hand holding the cake, scattering more powdered sugar and crumbs onto the rug.
Eliza stepped back to avoid the spray, noticing that a small older woman was hovering nearby, trying to get Ross’s attention. If only she’d try harder. “Right. Well, Nourish Our Youth was founded to help pull children out of poverty. In the past we dealt with a whole bunch of issues like homelessness and food insecurity, but now we’re mostly focused on education. So we make grants to schools and teachers, but we’re looking to get more involved in funding education research.”
Ross popped the last bite of coffee cake into his mouth. “Sounds a little scattered,” he remarked around the mouthful of cake.
He’s not wrong. “We’re evolving.”
“So, tell me...” But Ross couldn’t complete his sentence before Red Scoop Neck appeared, much more effectively intervening than the poor gray-haired lady who’d been waiting so patiently.
“Ross. Excuse me. But there are a few people I’d like you to meet.” She put her hand on his arm and then turned to Eliza. “You don’t mind, do you?”
She shook her head numbly.
“Sorry,” Ross said apologetically over his shoulder. “I’ll find you later. I want to hear more about NOY .” He emphasized the acronym like it was incredibly amusing.
Eliza watched Red Scoop Neck steer him to a cluster of three people?—two women and a man?—who greeted him with wide smiles.
“I’ll find you later,” he’d said. Not if she could help it.