Absolute Brightness by James Lecesne Read Free Book Online

shoulders and hair the color of their dinner napkins. They were craning their necks to see what was going to happen next. Something was obviously up with us; but Aunt Bet just said, “It’s nothing. Just family matters.”
    The idea that the previous three years and everything we’d been through—the separation, the divorce, living without my father, watching Mom trying to make ends meet—amounted to nothing in the minds of other people made me crazy. I wanted to scream or scratch somebody’s eye out, but instead I just stood there like everybody else, waiting for the next thing to happen.
    â€œCome on, Leonard,” Mom said. “We’re going home.”
    â€œEllen…?” My father’s voice came as a surprise. We all looked at him. He took a heavy breath, as if he were about to make a big speech and appeal to my mother’s sense of fairness.
    â€œDon’t. Okay?” Mom said to him. “Just don’t.”
    And then she stretched her left hand flat out for emphasis. I noticed that she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring. When did that happen? I wondered. Maybe she never put it back on after that night when Leonard touched the diamond chip and introduced her to the Titanic cocktail.
    â€œCoats,” Mom said to us over her shoulder, which was her way of ending the possibility of a conversation and getting us out of there as fast as she could.
    Leonard got up. We all tried not to look at one another as we put on our late-autumn, early-winter outerwear, but I could see that Leonard was a nervous wreck.
    Then I heard my father say, “I’m sorry.” But he said it low and into his chest and not quite loud enough for it to do any good.
    Mom said, “Excuse me?”
    He looked up at us and then in a louder voice he repeated himself. “I’m sorry. Believe me, this never should’ve happened. It’s my fault. I’m … I’m so, so sorry.”
    The words came out of his mouth, but each syllable sounded cheap and flat. I suppose these were the words that we all wanted to hear from him. We had wanted him to be sorry, to cry, to see him squirming in his seat and then begging for our forgiveness. But as it was happening, I felt like it wasn’t really enough.
    Aunt Bet came over to the table. She was slightly stooped over and she was wearing the most pitiful expression.
    â€œGirls, please,” she said, “let’s not block the aisle.”
    We all looked at her as though she were an alien creature as she moved on toward the kitchen. That’s when Deirdre seemed to come back from whatever far-off planet she’d been visiting. She blinked a few times and laughed. It was not a happy laugh. It was low and smoky and slightly menacing.
    Then she reached over and grabbed a handful of lettuce from the salad bar beside her. She tossed the lettuce at my father lightly, almost as if she were showering him with rose petals. The individual curls of lettuce landed on his shoulders and in his hair, a few fell to the floor and onto the table. I heard one of the nearby diners gasp in horror. Everyone was stunned—my father, too. He just sat there examining the mess in front of him.
    Deirdre reached behind her again, but this time I was ready for her. I was able to grab her arm and stop her. But then she pivoted her whole body and got a hold of a handful of lettuce with her other fist. This time her aim was off, and the stuff flew wildly through the air, hitting no one in particular but everyone in general. It landed in water glasses and dessert flutes.
    Aunt Bet came rushing back. She was looking at the lettuce scattered on the carpet like it was broken dishware. She was really upset. She had had it, she was saying as she pushed Deirdre and me and Leonard toward the door. Under her breath, she threatened us with police action, and said over and over that we would not be allowed in her restaurant anymore because of our