Sara Benincasa: Great

“That’s where Tiger Woods played, Naomi,” Teddy said, addressing me directly for the first time since we’d been introduced.

“Ah,” I said. “Well.”

I learned that Teddy was on Manhattan’s only private school football team and would be the captain heading into his senior year, just as Jeff would be the captain of the golf team.

“What about you, Naomi?” Mrs. Fairweather asked. “What do you like to do at school?”

“Naomi gets straight A’s,” my mother interjected with what I think was pride, or maybe she’d already had too much wine. (“Your mother’s always been a lightweight,” my dad would say. “I mean that literally, and with the booze.”)

“Whoa,” Jeff said. “You’re, like, a genius.” I looked for sarcasm in his expression and couldn’t find any.

“Seriously,” he continued. “I’m good for A’s in English and humanities, but you get A’s in math and science and everything else? Pretty impressive, Naomi.” I liked the way he said my name.

“It is very impressive,” Mrs. Fairweather agreed. “Do you play any sports, do any clubs?”

“I’m in the LGBT-Straight Alliance,” I said. It was true. Skags made me join because she said if I didn’t, it meant I was homophobic. And, anyway, she needed my vote for president. It ended up that no one else ran against her, so she automatically won. But I’m still glad I joined. It’s like the only fun club at our school.

“And what is that?” Mrs. Fairweather asked. My mother looked less than delighted.

“It’s the lesbian-gay-bisexual-transgender-straight alliance,” I said. “We march in the Gay Pride Parade every year in Boys-town, and we make ‘It Gets Better’ videos and stuff.”

“How nice,” Mrs. Fairweather said dryly.

When we ordered appetizers and our entrees, Delilah made Teddy order for her, whispering into his ear. It creeped me out only slightly more than his flirting with her mother did.

Misti brought our food out, carefully balancing the plates of lobster and sautéed scallops and fried oysters and popcorn shrimp and, for the mothers and Delilah, three undressed arugula salads.

“You all get started without me,” Teddy said abruptly, rising from the table. Delilah didn’t look up from the arugula she was halfheartedly pushing around her plate.

“Guess I drank that soda a little too fast,” he added offhandedly, and headed in the direction of the bathroom.

Suddenly all I could think about was all the bottles of water I’d drunk on the plane, and on the SUV ride to the Downtown Manhattan heliport, plus a Coke at Baxley’s, and how it was all kind of straining my bladder. I tried to sit still and listen to Mrs. Fairweather talk about Senator Fairweather’s diplomatic trip to Canada, but I honestly couldn’t concentrate. My mother had drilled into me at a young age that it’s customary for only one guest to excuse him or herself to the bathroom at a time, “because more than one guest missing interrupts the flow of conversation.” I knew that rule as well as I knew her other etiquette lessons, like the one about leaving your napkin folded on your chair when you went to the bathroom, and of course, the classic no-elbows-on-the-table rule. But my need to pee was rapidly approaching emergency status, and there was no sign of Teddy returning.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out finally in the middle of Mrs. Fairweather’s criticism of the Canadian health care system. “I just—uh, I really need to excuse myself for a minute.”

My mother waved me away dismissively, never breaking eye contact with Mrs. Fairweather. Relieved, I got up from the table and fairly dashed to the ladies’ room. I inherited my tiny bladder and my tiny boobs from my mom—although she got the latter surgically enhanced the first time her catering business turned a profit.

Here’s another thing I got from my mom: a terrible sense of direction. It’s the only thing that explains why I took a left out of the bathroom instead of a right. Baxley’s is in a big old Victorian house, so it’s got some twists and turns to it. Anyway, I took a wrong turn out of the bathroom and ended up in the wrong dining room, so I just kept going and ended up in the wrong corridor, which concluded with the wrong glass door, which looked out at the back of the restaurant, and with my luck it was the exact wrong moment because there was Teddy Barrington shoving Misti hard against the wall. She staggered a little.

And I swear to God, at the exact freaking second I realized what was going on, Misti-with-an-i looked up and locked eyes with me. I immediately spun around and started walking away, but I heard the door crash open behind me and felt a big paw on my shoulder. I jumped and spun around to look at Teddy. He looked panicked, but he seemed to relax when he saw how afraid I was of him.

“I’m not—I didn’t—” I tried to get the words out. “I didn’t mean to spy. I just got lost coming back from the bathroom.” I saw Misti the waitress behind him, looking terrified. Half her face was a little red.

“It’s okay,” Teddy said soothingly, putting his other hand on my other shoulder. He turned his head to Misti. “Why don’t you get back to work.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order. Misti obediently scurried past us, shooting me a nervous glance.

I was trapped.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Teddy said, frowning. “The last thing I want to do is put you in an uncomfortable position.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut. This seemed to please him.

“Look, Naomi,” Teddy said, staring so deeply into my eyes I felt really exposed and uncomfortable. “Delilah and I are going through a rough patch. We’ve talked about being in an open relationship, and I think that’s really what she wants. But it isn’t official yet, and Misti’s upset because, well, she wants to be with me. But Delilah tends to get depressed, and I really think it would be unhealthy for her to hear about this. It could really cause some serious problems for her. With her health. Do you know what I mean?”

I just wanted to get the hell out of there, so I nodded vigorously and said, “I won’t say anything. It’s none of my business.”

“No, it really isn’t,” Teddy agreed. Then he flashed his big white smile at me and patted me on the head. “You remind me of my sister,” he said.

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to respond to that.

“She’s dead,” he said.

“Oh.” I really wasn’t sure how I was supposed to respond to that. “I’m. . . I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s really sad, but it was a long time ago,” he replied. “Thanks for understanding about this whole thing, Naomi. How ’bout I head back to the table first, and you wait a minute and then follow?” I was about to protest that I didn’t know the way back to the table, but he was already gone. I waited the Teddy-prescribed minute and then found a busboy who pointed me in the right direction.

I sank down at the table between Jeff and my mother. Teddy, who had his arm around Delilah, was too busy teasing Mrs. Fairweather to look up. Delilah was actually giggling, as was my mother.

“What happened?” Jeff asked quietly. “You look really pale.”

“I am really pale,” I said.

“Yeah, but something freaked you out.”

“How do you know? We just met two hours ago.”

“I can tell.” He lowered his voice even further. “Let me guess—it had something to do with Teddy being gone so long.”

I sipped my water quickly.

“You saw him with her, right?”

I almost spit my water out, like they do in movies.

“Shh!” I hissed, glancing nervously at the other part of the table. “They’ll hear you.”