“It’s a new thing,” hesays.
“I didn’t know you had any friends!” Christopher says, punching Scott in thethigh.
“Hello,” I say, as soon as I can get a word in edgewise. “I love your dress, it’sbeautiful.”
“Oh thank you, I was just thinking I love your dress, it fits you perfectly. This is my son Christopher. He’s a big fan of Scott’s, as you cansee.”
“I met Daniel Radcliffe at a party once and got him to record a little video on my phone, of him saying ‘hi’ to Christopher. Even though he’s not old enough to watch the moviesyet.”
“I have now! I got to see the firsttwo!”
“Oh that’s not all that Scott did, though,” she tells me. “He also read all of theDiary of a Wimpy Kidbooks to him when he was recovering from pneumonia lastyear.”
“I was just avoiding work,” Scottshrugs.
“He stayed with him for twodays.”
I try to ignore the fact that my ovaries feel like they’re exploding. So far, I’m wondering if Scott’s family is really as uptight and snobby as he has led me to believe. Maybe he just wanted to lower my expectations. These relatives seemgreat.
“Ohhhh, you look sooo handsome!” I hear the excited gasp that can only come from amother.
“Hey Mom.” Scott smiles and hugs her. He’s about a foot and a half taller than her, and the hug lasts an eternity. I take a sip of champagne and look around, trying to spy a sea lion. His mom makes a sad little sound and runs a fingertip beneath her right eye. “Oh come on,” he says, in a tender hushed voice. “It hasn’t been thatlong.”
His mom punches him in the arm. “It has beenforever!”
“Ow.”
She punches him again. This guy really does take a lot ofpunches.
“Too busy to visit your poor old mother. As if you can’t write from anywhere. Did you get those law school applications I sentyou?”
“Please stop sending them tome.”
“There’s a lot of writing involved in law, youknow.”
“Mom, this is Erin Duffy.” He says my name to her like he’s mentioned mebefore.
She gives me a quick once-over before smiling warmly and reaching to shake my free hand with both ofhers.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs.Braddock.”
“Hello Erin, I’m Claire, it’s so nice to meet you. Scotty’s so happy you could join himhere.”
“Oh well, it’s an honor to be here, it’s such a beautifulsetting.”
Claire Braddock doesn’t have as much of a European accent as I was expecting, and she honestly reminds me a bit of my own mother—if my mom had a makeover at Neiman Marcus, a Bachelors Degree from Vassar College, a French mother, an Italian father, and a wealthy husband with a stick up hisbutt.
I hear him before I see him. Scott’s father has the same deep voice, but it’s louder and more commanding and a lot less sexy (in my opinion). He’s telling someone that he’ll talk to him about something later, but he doesn’t sound happy about it. A business deal, surely. Or maybe he’s unhappy because it’s not business-related.
I watch Scott’s posture straighten, his jaw stiffen. He clears his throat before stepping forward to shake hands with hisdad.
His dad doesn’t come all the way to him. “Well well, look who finally decided to take a day off from making the world a better place with his movie writing. Your mother’s been worriedsick.”
“Not sick—he’s exaggerating,” Claire Braddocksays.
“I’m just out there writing,” Scott says, trying to soundlighthearted.
“That’s what worriesher.”
