Second First Impressions

“It should. People take too much from you. Make sure Rose doesn’t trample you too.” He holds up his phone to change the subject. Melanie has sent a selfie of herself staring into TJ’s Kleenex box most diligently. She’s made a paper nurse’s hat and decorated it with a red cross. “That girl is a complete nut,” he says fondly.

For one shivering moment, I marry them in my mind. What a sweet story for their wedding. And I told her, the only one I trust is you. A toast to my bride! I bet I’ll have to help their caterers clean up empty glasses.

Even while having a bad daydream, I can sound normal. “Even tortoise daddies need to take a break.”

“I know it’s weird. I’ve never had a pet.” Before I can explore that with him—surely as a kid he could have had a pony if he wanted it?—he blinks away the sadness and smooths the tablecloth. “Well, this is very fancy. Did the other Parloni boys get free lunches?”

“I don’t think so. I think you’re special. I mean—”

“Very special, how kind,” he agrees in a warm voice. Then he grabs at one of the tiny bread rolls and slathers it with butter. Scarfs it down. “What was the last boy like?”

I lean back in my chair and straighten my cutlery. “That would be Phillip. He was studying journalism and ran a blog about sneakers. He drew the line at ironing practical joke underwear.”

“What, you mean that ratty leopard-print thong they keep pranking me with? I’ve found far worse in the bottom of my sheets.” He says that too loud and our neighbors turn their heads. “I folded it in that Japanese way, down to the size of a matchbox.”

I laugh. “Sounds like you’re a tidy boy sometimes.”

He replies, “Since I met you, I’ve been folding everything. I’ve lived in mess my entire life. I want a label maker. I want to tattoo my belongings. Tell me about the boy before Phillip.” Teddy inserts a second bread roll into his mouth.

I’m distracted because I just saw something real and deep down, underneath his easy smile. I don’t think being a Prescott is as easy as I’d assumed.

“The boy before Phillip was Brayden. Nineteen, chronically unemployed. He was shocked to be given the job. It was sad how elated he was. He hung around the front office, getting in my way.”

I think he asks through his mouthful: “How’d she break him?”

I smile against my will. “She pretended to be dead and he ran away and never came back. For all he knows, she did die.” I turn and watch Renata laughing with Aggie. “It was so unnecessary. Sometimes I wonder if she’s actually evil.”

“I think she tried that with me. I changed the TV channel; that restarted her heart. And before him?” He’s buttered a third roll, but something makes him freeze. It’s me. Do I have some kind of expression on my face? “Sorry, I was in a bread frenzy. Excuse my fingers.”

He puts the torn, buttered roll on my plate. I can do it myself, but I didn’t have to just now. And that’s why it’s the most delicious bread roll I ever had.

In between bites I tell him, “Luke was about twenty. He skateboarded down the hill, hit a tortoise, and fell off. He tried to sue Providence. Luckily, I’d written down each time I’d warned him not to do it. Time and date.”

“A lawyer’s dream. A model employee,” Teddy tells me in a praising way, but I still feel embarrassed. Goody-Two-shoes. “Want another one?” He hovers his hand over the breadbasket. “You need some carbs. Thank God I saved you from your tin of soup.”

“Yes, please. I saved your dad from a lawsuit. More inheritance for you.” I accept a glass of wine from the waiter but I won’t drink it.

“Drink it,” Renata shouts across the room.

Teddy shakes his head. “That’s me. Just killing time, waiting for that inheritance of mine that I’m definitely entitled to.” He butters the next roll with a bit of violence. “Over Rose’s dead body.”

I need his smile back. “Cheers, Teddy. Congratulations on probably being the longest-serving assistant to Renata and Aggie Parloni.” We clink glasses and I take a sip of the sour wine. It’s awful, but I have to grow up.

I remember what Mel said about this being a client lunch. Maybe I should be trying to have a professional meeting with Jerry’s son.

“PDC hasn’t known we existed before now. I don’t know what this review is really for. We were totally forgotten.” Resentment colors my tone and he probably hears it.

“I ruined everything when I showed up, huh?” He waits. When he sees me trying to choose my reply, the light in him goes out. “She’ll do a review of the assets and liabilities and make a presentation to the board. She’ll tell them what will make PDC the most money. If that hill is worth more covered in high-rises, she’ll do it.”

I wonder what other inside knowledge he has without realizing it. “And is she a lovely person who has a soft spot for the elderly?”

“She probably had a toy bulldozer as a kid.” His expression is blank and I don’t like it. He picks up his phone and yawns, effectively exiting this conversation.

“Probably? You don’t know for sure?” I sip more wine. “Maybe you could convince her to come and visit. If she just sees it in person—”

“I’m going to tell you a fact about me,” he says, and when his eyes meet mine again, I get a sharp, scared drop inside. He’s now a zero-nonsense adult man. “I always know when someone is hoping I can be useful in some sort of Prescott way. I like you a lot, so I’m going to give you a spoiler on how this turns out. I can’t get involved. If you’re imagining I have some kind of influence, you are miles from the truth.”

I respond with emotion. “Don’t you care that Providence is home to so many elderly people who don’t deserve to be uprooted at this time in their lives? The stress could kill them.”