14. “All Happy Families Are Alike” #6
“The In and Out list is a joke,” Olivia told her parents in as nonchalant a voice as she could muster. “Or not a joke, exactly, but tongue-in-cheek.”
“It had better be,” Olivia’s father said. “I am not spending seventy-two thousand dollars a year for you to attend orgies.”
“Of course not, Daddy.”
“I can’t believe you think The Row is out,” Diane said. “I just ordered a new bag from there.”
“For god’s sake, Diane,” Olivia’s father said.
Dinner has been a form of torture. Because Olivia downsized the reservation so late, she and her parents have been squeezed into a two-top with Olivia sitting off the side of the table like a wart.
Although the table is in the middle of the room, their server has all but ignored them, probably because Olivia and her mother both ordered the spinach salad as their entrée and her father refused the wine list, telling their server, “I have to drive back to my hotel on these goddamned hick roads.”
Olivia and her parents are sitting in awkward, miserable silence when Charley and East walk into the dining room with East’s mother, who has a clean, simple beauty that Olivia can’t help but envy. East has a cool mom. Of course he does.
Their service is so poor—and the service at the Eastman table so attentive (with nothing else to do, Olivia has been watching out of the corner of her eye)—that East, Charley, and Lori stand to leave before the H-Ts even get their check (though Olivia’s father has requested it twice).
East and Charley look poised to sweep past Olivia’s table without a word, which would make sense.
Olivia and Charley dislike each other, and Olivia did a hatchet job on both Davi and Charley (“doing the reading,” “kissing ass”) in the paper.
But shockingly, East stops, tosses his bangs out of his face, and says, “Hey, Olivia, are these your parents?”
Olivia senses some kind of trap. East has never spoken to her before. So why now? The remains of her mostly uneaten salad are before her. Is East going to make an Ozempic crack?
“Uh, yeah,” Olivia says. “Mom, Dad, this is East, Charley, and…”
“Lori Litavec,” East’s mother says. She shakes hands with Diane and then with Olivia’s father, who has gotten to his feet. “I’m East’s mom.” She pulls East close and rests her head against his shoulder. “I flew in from LA.”
“Lovely,” Diane says. When her mother smiles, Olivia sees she has lipstick on her teeth. “We’re from Boston. Beacon Hill.”
“So much closer,” Lori says. “You’re lucky.”
There’s a beat of silence. Olivia looks at Charley. “Your parents didn’t come?”
“My mother? No.”
“How’s your stepfather?” Olivia asks. Last year at Family Weekend, Charley’s stepdad was the main character.
Charley makes a face like Olivia just farted.
“Enjoy your night,” East says. “Nice meeting you, Olivia’s parents.”
“You can call me Diane!” Diane says—but they’re already on their way out, so Diane turns to Olivia. “That was nice of them to stop.” She pats Olivia’s hand.
It was nice, and that little visit seemed to be initiated by East?
“His mom is pretty,” Olivia says.
“So thin!” Diane says.
Olivia wonders if she’s gained social status because she hangs out with Pippa now. It has taken three full years, but Olivia is finally getting the notice she deserves—and as if to emphasize this point, the server arrives with their check.
“Finally,” the Hudezech-Tottingknaffers say as a family.
For Audre, Family Weekend has delivered a couple of unexpected gifts. One, Jesse Eastman is away on safari—so Audre is spared having to tell him about the budget. She won’t see Jesse until Tiffin’s 115th anniversary in the spring—and by then, they’ll be in better shape. At least Audre hopes so.
Then, during the reception on Friday evening, Jim and Sloane Benbow pulled Audre aside unexpectedly for a chat.
They told Audre they were extremely grateful to Dr. Pringle specifically, and the Tiffin administration in general, for addressing Tilly’s mental health.
Jim Benbow dropped a bombshell: He would be making a “substantial donation” on February 1, in honor of Tilly’s eighteenth birthday.
“Unrestricted gift,” Jim said. “Use it for whatever you want.”
Audre hugged both the Benbows, as she wondered just how “substantial” the gift would be.
It wouldn’t be seven million dollars, but could Audre hope for one million?
(This might get her through to the end of the school year, which would be such a relief!) Though Audre knew, for some families, fifty thousand or even twenty-five thousand would be a “substantial” donation.
There was no way she could ask, but she reminded herself that Jim Benbow owned a bank. He would give at least a million—and because it was unrestricted, she’d be able to drop it right into the operating budget. It wouldn’t completely solve Audre’s issues, but it was encouraging news nonetheless.
In Audre’s hour of need, the universe has delivered. As the parents, grandparents, and siblings drive off, Audre declares Family Weekend an unequivocal success.