From the expression on his face when he looked at me, I didn't think Wade approved of the way I was dressed and made up. He finally noticed the Cosmopolitan in front of me.
"You ordered her an alcoholic beverage?"
"It's her first big night out with us, Wade. What's the big deal?"
"The big deal? Ami, she's underage. You can't do that. You'll endanger the restaurant as well. Please slide that over to me," he told me.
I did as he asked, and Ami immediately went into a pout.
"I'm sorry, Celeste," he said. He turned back to Ami. "You know that Mrs. Brentwood, the principal of the Dickinson School, is sitting by the fireplace with her husband?"
Ami glanced in that direction, and I looked as well. An attractive middle-aged woman with light brown hair sat facing us. Her husband had his back to us. I thought she had a nice smile, and unlike most of the other patrons, she didn't seem at all interested in us. She laughed at something her husband said and then wiped the strands of her shoulder-length hair away from her right cheek.
"So what?" Ami muttered.
"So what? So she'll know Celeste is not old enough to be served alcohol and that you ordered it for her. What kind of a foster mother are you? Not smart." Wade sipped my drink. "It's too sweet," he said. "How can you drink this anyway?"
"Sweets for the sweet," Ami quipped. Wade shook his head, but settled down and smiled at me.
"Excited about tomorrow?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, although nervous was a better term to apply, I thought.
&n
bsp; "You'll do well," he told me. "I'm sure you have better study habits than half the school population, most of whom are spoon-fed everything. What subjects interest you the most?"
"Boys," Ami offered for me.
Wade looked at her and then slowly turned back to me.
"I guess English," I said. He nodded.
"Yes, that was my favorite, especially English literature."
"Yes, well, you get lots of opportunity to use that knowledge in a wholesale plumbing plant, don't you?" Anti snapped at him as if she hated all education, regardless of the subject.
"You'd be surprised," he said. "Pipes have to be grammatically correct to fit correctly, and elegant sink, tub, and shower fixtures have to be described poetically."
We both laughed. It was Ami's turn to smirk, but before she could comment, our food was served. Wade looked surprised by my dish.
"She's never had lobster before, Wade, so don't start talking about the cost."
"I'm not. It looks very good, in fact. I probably should have ordered it myself."
"It is good," I said, tasting it. "It's delicious." He smiled.
"Who's your favorite author?" he asked.
"I don't know as I have one favorite," I told him. "I didn't expect to enjoy reading Mark Twain as much as I did this year. I love Huck Finn."
"So did I," Wade said.
Ami groaned.
"Really, Wade, next thing you'll do is get her reading the Wall Street Journal."
He shrugged and looked at me.