I park my mom’s car next to a shiny rose-gold Mercedes G-Wagon that likely cost as much as the down payment on a home.
I am happy for Mrs. Marks that she’s done so well, but this place is so lavish it’s comical. I suspect it makes Molly cringe every time she looks at it.
Molly opens the (double-height, stained glass) doors before I have a chance to knock.
She’s wearing a short, fluttery dress and beige platform sandals with little straps that tie around her ankles. I immediately want to spend all day tying and untying those little straps.
“Hiya,” she says briskly. “Let’s go. Can you drive?”
I lean in and give her a kiss on the cheek. “Gladly.”
“Wait!” a voice cries. Molly’s mother comes rushing out of the house, barefoot in a floor-length hibiscus-patterned dressing gown.
“Seth,” she says in greeting, looking me up and down.
Molly audibly sighs. “Mom, I told you, we have to go. We have reservations.”
“What’s five minutes? I just want to say hello.”
She stares at me expectantly, like she’s waiting for me to do the honors.
“Hello, ma’am,” I say obediently. “How are you?”
Molly groans. “Don’t call her ma’am.”
I can’t help it. It’s an instinct left over from my terrified high school boyfriend days.
“I’m very well, Seth. Thank you for asking. And you?”
“Also very well.”
We all stand in uncomfortable silence.
“You satisfied he’s not a serial killer, Mom?” Molly finally says.
“Molly tells me you’re a lawyer in Chicago,” Mrs. Marks says, ignoring her daughter.
“Yes, for going on ten years now,” I say nervously.
“A divorce lawyer,” she adds, glaring. I feel like an undeserving boy sniffing around for more of her too-good-for-me daughter’s attention. A familiar feeling.
“Uh,” I say, hoping to change the subject. “My parents mentioned your business is thriving—they see your signs all over.”
Her face softens slightly.
“Oh don’t say that in front of Molly. She hates my signs.”
“Well you do put them on city buses,” Molly retorts.
“Anything to increase your inheritance, dear daughter,” Mrs. Marks says. “Who knows if your father will leave you anything.”
She glares at me, like Roger Marks being an asshole is my fault.
“So morbid,” Molly groans. “Anyway, we have to go.”
“When will you have her back, Seth?” Mrs. Marks asks.
Molly barks out a laugh. “Enough, Mom!”
“It was absolutely lovely to see you, Mrs. Marks,” I say. “But Molly’s right. We’re running a little late, and you know how Roberta’s is at brunch.”
“Have fun,” she says, clearly hoping we won’t.
She stands in the driveway glowering as Molly and I get into the car.
“Jesus,” Molly says under her breath. “Sorry about that. You’d think she’d never seen a person before.”
“Good to know she still hates me,” I say through my smile.
“It’s not you. She hates all lawyers. You know, because of what happened with my dad.”
She clears her throat, suddenly seeming uncomfortable. “You kind of dodged a bullet though. Ever since she got a boyfriend she’s been obsessed with me dating. Usually if any man comes within four feet of her washed-up spinster daughter she’s offering to pay for an engagement ring before she even gets his name.”
“You aren’t a washed-up spinster.”
She pulls down the passenger-side mirror to inspect her face. “I suppose I’m a moderately well-preserved spinster.”
I reach over and snap the mirror shut. “Come on, Molly. You’re beautiful.”
