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“Why aren’t you staying with us?” Mom interrupts.

“Well….”

“I saw your story on Portugal,” Dad cuts me off as he raises his wineglass. “Fabulous, as always.”

“Haha.” I fake a smile and raise my glass before taking a giant gulp of wine.

Fuck.

There isn’t enough alcohol on earth for this conversation.

“How have you guys been?” I change the subject.

“Absolutely slammed at work,” Mom replies. “But after the next fortnight things will slow down.”

“That’s good.” I take another swig, this wine tastes good.

Really good.

The waitress appears out of nowhere and places meals into the middle of the table.

“You ordered already?” I ask.

“I hope you don’t mind, we’re pushed for time,” Mom tells me. “We have to get back.” She smiles. “But I knew you would want your favorite.”

“Thanks.” I force a smile, wanted a salad today…. But whatever.

They chat away and dish out the meals onto our three plates, all without even so much as a question as to what I would like to eat.

They just assume to know…. Actually, come to think of it, they assume a lot about me. I watch them in a detached state, are they always this way or am I just feeling especially prickly today?

Ugh….

They keep chatting at a million miles per hour, jumping from subject to subject, completely absorbed in their lunch.

I drain my glass and refill it.

Mom tells me all about her Pilates, and Dad tells me all about golf on Saturday.

And me…well, I just sit here wondering how in the hell to tackle this.

“What story are you working on this week, Anna?” Dad asks me.

“Well….” I take another gulp of wine. “A story on Paris.”

“Paris?” My father frowns.

“Uh-huh.” I cut into my lunch as I do my best casual acting. “That’s right.”

“Why are you in Milan if you’re doing a story on Paris?”

“I have some news.” I look between them. “Exciting news.”

“You got the promotion.” Dad smiles. “Didn’t you?”

“Yes…. And no.”

Just spit it out.