“You’re too young,” she said in a flat voice. “You’re both far too young.”
Jeremiah coughed. “Laur, we love each other, and we want to be together.”
“Youaretogether,” my mother snapped. Then she turned to Mr. Fisher, her eyes narrowed. “Did you know about this?”
“Calm down, Laurel. They’re joking. You were joking, right?”
Jere and I shared a look before he said in a soft voice, “No, we’re not joking.”
My mother swallowed the rest of her champagne, emptying her glass. “You two are not getting married, period. You’re both still in school, for God’s sake. It’s ridiculous.”
Clearing his throat, Mr. Fisher said, “Maybe after you kids both graduate, we can discuss it again.”
“A few years after you graduate,” my mother put in.
“Right,” Mr. Fisher said.
“Dad…,” Jeremiah began.
The server was back at Mr. Fisher’s shoulder before Jeremiah could finish whatever it was he was going to say. He just stood there for a moment looking awkward before asking, “Do you have any questions about the menu? Or, ah, are we just doing appetizers today?”
“We’ll just take the check,” my mother said, tight lipped.
There was all this food on the table and no onewas touching it, no one was saying anything. I was right before. This was a mistake, a tactical error of epic proportions. We never should have told them like this. Now they were a team, united against us. We barely got a word in edgewise.
I reached into my purse, and under the tablecloth, I put my engagement ring on. It was the only thing I could think to do. When I reached for my water glass, Jeremiah saw the ring and squeezed my knee again. My mother saw too—her eyes flashed, and she looked away.
Mr. Fisher paid the bill, and for once my mother didn’t argue. We all stood up. Quickly, Steven filled a cloth napkin with shrimp. And then we were leaving, me trailing my mother, Jeremiah following Mr. Fisher. Behind me, I heard Steven whispering to Conrad. “Holy shit, man. This is crazy. Didyouknow about this?”
I heard Conrad tell him no. Outside, he hugged my mother good-bye and then got in his car and drove away. He didn’t look back once.
When we got to our car, I asked my mother very quietly, “Can I have the keys?”
“What for?”
I wet my lips. “I need to get my book bag out of the trunk. I’m going with Jeremiah, remember?”
I could see my mother struggle to hold her temper. She said, “No, you’re not. You’re coming home with us.”
“But Mom—”
Before I could finish, she’d already handed the keys to Steven and climbed into the passenger seat. She closed the door.
I looked at Jeremiah helplessly. Mr. Fisher was already in his car, and Jeremiah was hanging back, waiting. More than anything, I wished I could leave with him. I was really, really scared to get into the car with my mother.
I was in trouble like I had never known.
“Get in the car, Belly,” Steven said. “Don’t make it worse.”
“You’d better go,” Jeremiah said.
I ran over to him and hugged him tight. “I’ll call you tonight,” he whispered into my hair.
“If I’m still alive,” I whispered back.
Then I walked away from him and climbed into the backseat.
Steven started the car, his napkin a white bundle in his lap. My mother caught my eye in the rearview mirror and said, “You’re returning that ring, Isabel.”
