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Walker places a hand on my shoulder, the weight familiar and soothing. “You okay?”
I nod, watching the couple get in their car and drive off.
“Let’s go.”
Soft jazz music floats through the air as we step inside, the lighting dim and atmosphere stifled with entitlement radiating off of the patrons. The maître d’ gives us a disapproving look the moment we walk up to his little booth, rich wood paneling stretching across the front. But it quickly falls from his face as my sister swoops in, walking toward us with her husband.
Beth looks beautiful, blonde hair falling in long curls over her muted peachy dress, the pattern covered in florals. The neckline is high, the sleeves long, her skirt brushing the bottoms of her knees. She smiles at me, true excitement on her face as she pulls me into a hug. “It’s good to see you,” she says softly, face tucked into my neck. She’s an inch shorter than me, but her small heels bring us on eye level.
I take in a lungful of her familiar perfume, rosy and sweet, and say, “It’s good to see you, too.”
It’s been years since I’ve seen her in person, and when I pull back, I see the years on her face. Her eyes now crinkle just a smidge at the corners, the faintest of smile lines on her cheeks. But it’s not just the physical marker of time, but also her aura. Beth has always been mature and wise beyond her years, but she holds herself with such grace, such poise, that I don’t know if it can be traced back to her settling into motherhood or the wife of a future preacher.
Speaking of future preachers, I turn my attention to Christopher, greeting him. “Nice to see you again.”
“You as well,” he says, though I’m not sure I believe him, even though it’s a sin to lie.
Christopher gives me a stiff half hug, and I keep my body angled, knowing he wouldn’t want any part of my chest to come in contact with his. He’s a nice enough guy, my brother-in-law. He’s always treated Beth well and I can imagine he's a solid father to Ruth. He’s just so…bland. And proper. Made even more apparent to me when I look over my shoulder at Walker as he introduces himself to Beth.
Christopher and Walker couldn’t be any more opposite, the way Christopher stands straight as a rod, shirt buttoned up to his throat, formality shaping his every movement, even when interacting with family. Walker stands tall, but his posture is relaxed, his face open and inviting as he talks to Beth, collar open at his throat.
But then I look between myself and Beth and realize there’s a person out there for everyone and while I would suffocate with boredom and be stifled under Christopher’s expectations of what he looks for in a partner, Beth would be lost with someone like Walker, who holds zero expectations over me and doesn’t live his life by a book of principals and rules.
“Walker, this is my brother-in-law, Christopher.” I gesture between the two as Walker and Beth turn their attention to us.
“Nice to meet you.” Walker extends his hand, which Christopher gives a solid shake before dropping it, wrapping his arm around Beth’s shoulders and pulling her into his side. “Sorry we’re a little late.”
“No apologies necessary.” Beth waves a hand, before starting to walk over to a table tucked in the back corner of the room. “Our table was ready, so Mom and Dad are already seated.”
We fall into step behind them, my nerves ratcheting higher and higher with each step I take. Walker grabs my hand and holds it tightly, a reminder that he is here, he is with me.
As we approach the table, I see a familiar low bun with two perfectly curled strands hanging delicately in front of the woman's face. And as she turns her attention to me, I’m met with eyes just like my own, rich brown surrounded by thick, dark lashes. Her nose is sloped like mine, ending in a soft point, lips rounded and full. But that is where the similarities between my mother and myself stop.
“Look who’s here,” Beth says, going around to sit in the chair next to my mother. The table is round, six chairs spread out evenly. My mother sits to my father’s left side, now sandwiched in by Beth. I stare at the remaining chairs, not wanting to sit next to my father but also not wanting to put Walker in that position either.
But Beth must’ve already considered that, because Christopher pulls out the chair next to my father and takes his spot, leaving Walker and I to settle in between my sister and brother-in-law, directly across from my parents.
I shoot her a silent thank you.
She inclines her head in the slightest acknowledgment.
“Mom, Dad,” I say, waiting to see if they’ll stand in greeting.
My mother gives me a subdued smile. “Elaine,” she says, using my first name. “Nice of you to join us.”
I can’t tell if that’s backhanded or not, but in order to not tank the evening before it even starts, I bite my tongue.
My father rises, eyeing Walker and myself like we have rotting garbage lining our pockets.
“This is Walker,” I introduce, keeping a death grip on his hand. “Walker, this is my mother, Elizabeth.”
He reaches across the table and shakes her hand, or more like waves it up and down because her grip is so loose in his.
“And this is my father, Phillip.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.” Walker offers my father his hand next, not recoiling it like I wish he would when my father eyes it with veiled disdain as he stares at the rings decorating his fingers.
“Nice to meet you, Walker,” he says, before giving me a nod in greeting as well and taking his seat again.
