Page 45 of Lie With Me
I notice she’s rubbing her abdomen absentmindedly, right over her scar. Unfortunately, Pops sees it too, and before he can get the wrong idea, I ask, “Babe, did you want me to grab you some ibuprofen? I know you said your cramps are bad this month.”
Lenni’s head snaps in my direction, eyes narrowed, probably ready to chastise me for bringing up shark week in front of Pops. As soon as she sees my face, I jerk my head in his direction, and her eyes widen as she looks down at where her hand rests on her abdomen.
“Oh! Yes, please. Thank you so much, babe. Goodness, you look like you’re about to have a heartattack, Dad. Don’t worry. No little Kennedys for us, yet.”
Yet.
It’s not real, but hearing her say it makes me regret not saving every single birthday, shooting star, and 11:11 wish to make it a reality.
Lenni wraps her arm through Pops’. “Care to give me a tour of your lovely home?”
“Yes, of course! Tripp, you know where the medicine cabinet is, and say hello to your mother before she throws a fit.”
I watch them go, smiling as he launches into the house's history while Lenni listens raptly. As they turn the corner, I head into the kitchen, smiling as my mother comes into view. She reminds me of the fifties era housewives with their perfectly styled hair and heels as they cook.
“Hi, Mom.” I wait to hug her since she’s plating the roast and walk over to the medicine cabinet instead, making a show of grabbing Lenni pain meds. “This is my gentle reminder to be kind to Valentina tonight. She’s not feeling well and came anyway.”
Mom sets down the plate of roast and turns to me. “What do you mean she’s not feeling well? Is she contagious? Did you bring her here knowing she was sick?”
“What? No. She’s got cramps. Relax.”
“Don’t tell your mother to relax. This is my house.” She goes back to plating dinner with a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head. Margo Kennedymay intimidate the shit out of a lot of people, but behind the closed doors of this house, she’s as warm and kind as any other regular mom.
I’m just hoping that extends to Lenni.
“Hi, Margo! Thank you so much for inviting us for dinner!” Lenni rushes over to hug her when she and Pops come back from their tour. Her tone is saccharine sweet, and not fooling anyone. “Here, let me help you.”
“No, no. Tripp says you aren’t feeling that well. Go on and have a seat.” Points to Mom for being cordial.
Placing my hand on the small of her back, I guide Lenni to the dining room as Pops uncorks a bottle of cab and exchanges whispers with Mom that I can’t make out. While they’re distracted, I lean into Lenni and whisper, “You don’t have to overdo it with the syrup.”
“Whatever do you mean?” she lilts, batting her eyelashes and giving me an innocent glance.
“You’re laying it on thick enough to drown pancakes.”
She sits as I pull her chair out for her and take my seat next to her. “You know why?—”
“Yes, I know why you’re doing it. But do you think that maybe, for the rest of tonight, you can justbe?”
Lenni briefly regards me, something I can’t decipher swimming in her pools of chocolate honey, before she reaches for my hand and nods. “Okay.”
“I hope you’re hungry. We have a lot to discussabout the party,” Mom says as she brings the serving dish to the table. Pops follows her and pours a little wine into everyone’s glass as she keeps talking while she dishes up the plates.
“I’m thinking we need to have it before Jackson and Ginny’s wedding. Let’s say, two weeks? That’s not much time, but I can pull it off. The event space where we had my birthday is a wonderful location. Central to everyone who will be attending, and so pretty. Valentina, do you have a color preference? Flower options? Any allergies I should know about? I would have asked Tripp, but I didn’t think he’d know, seeing as how you two rushed the engagement.”
Inwardly, I groan.Then why are you rushing an engagement party, Mother?
Sneaking a glance under the guise of getting a piece of bread, I see Lenni looking down at her lap, wringing her fingers together in a way that looks like she’s counting them silently.
I’m about to respond for her when her head snaps up, and she grabs her fork to take a bite of a carrot. “No allergies. I don’t really care about flowers, honestly. Or colors. Why don’t you just do whatever you think is best, Margo?”
She smiles at Mom over the table before turning her attention to Pops. “Tripp says you like to golf. I’ve always wanted to learn. Maybe you could teach me?”
Mom visibly bristles at being dismissed, while Pops nearly chokes on his wine at his sudden misfortuneof being trapped between the two women. “Tripp is a great golfer. You should teach her, Son.”
“So you have absolutely nothing to contribute to your own engagement party? Most women have been dreaming about their wedding since they were little girls,” Mom interrupts.
Lenni takes a bite of roast, chewing slowly while they lock eyes. As she starts to say something, she coughs, then makes a show of curling her hand into a fist and gently beating her chest. “Sorry, it’s a little dry,” she wheezes, reaching for her wine.