There was a murmur of approval from the Thompsons. "Do you know the Rosses? Courtney started that lovely school. We almost moved out here too, so that Eliza could go there."
"I know Mrs. Ross," Jeremy allowed. He didn't add that he was their gardener, to Eliza's relief.
"Where in Southampton?" Eliza's father inquired.
Jeremy told him.
"Ah, is that in the township?" Ryder asked, referring to the considerably more modest section of single-family homes in Southampton called the township.
Jeremy nodded.
"How quaint," Billie nodded with a strained smile.
"What does your father do?" Ryder inquired.
"Jeremy's dad runs his own business." Eliza interjected. She could see where this was going.
"What kind of enterprise?" her dad asked.
"He owns a fish and bait shop on Route 27," Jeremy replied, before Eliza could fudge some other euphemism like, "He's in the shipping industry."
"Is it the one with the big neon salmon on the door?" Billie asked.
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"That's it!" Jeremy slapped his thigh.
"I think Colombia got some lovely oysters from there the other day, darling," Billie said, nodding to her husband. "They were delicious. So fresh."
Jeremy beamed, but Eliza felt the burden of impending disaster. This was not going well. Eliza knew her parents were snobs' snobs. They could figure out somebody's place in the social hierarchy in a heartbeat, and Eliza could see they were writing Jeremy off.
"Where do you go to college, dear?" Billie asked, continuing the interrogation as they sat down for dinner.
"I go to State," Jeremy said, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin. "SUNY."
Ryder Thompson turned to his wife. "Isn't that Woody Allen's wife?" he joked.
Eliza stepped in. This was too painful. "He means State University of New York, Dad. In Nassau. It's not far from here."
"New York has a wonderful state university system," Billie said graciously.
Eliza squirmed in her seat. Jeremy was the first person in his family ever to go to college, and he was really proud of that. Don't hate me, her eyes pleaded, wanting him to look up so he could see how much she was on his side, but Jeremy kept his head down for the rest of the evening.
After coffee, the Thompsons took their leave, wishing
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Jeremy a courteous good night and reminding Eliza about her curfew.
"So do you want to go for a ride somewhere? Maybe take a walk on the beach?" Eliza asked, standing up from the table. She wanted to apologize for her parents, but she was still holding on to the hope that Jeremy hadn't noticed they were total snobs.
"Nah," Jeremy shook his head. "I have an early meeting tomorrow. I should get back."
Eliza's face fell. They weren't even going to hang out? It was her one night off from the club and she'd been looking forward to seeing him all week.
Jeremy slung his coat jacket over his shoulder and walked toward the door. Eliza opened it for him and followed him to the porch.