The Taming (15 page)

“Good. It’s time you stopped whining and complaining and started to act like a man. Take control over yourself and control of those around you. Be a man and—”

“That sounds like a very serious conversation,” my mother said as she came back into the room, carrying a tray filled with desserts, followed by Katie.

“It was serious,” my father said.

My mother skidded to a stop. She now looked concerned and a bit worried. “Do you want us to leave you alone to continue your discussion?”

“Of course not, my dear,” he said, his voice suddenly soft and friendly again. He rose to his feet and took the tray from her—now all charm and courtly manners. “No discussion, no matter how serious, should be continued when we have the opportunity to spend time with two such lovely young ladies!”

It was like turning on a tap. He was all smiles.

My mother giggled—a nervous release from the tension she was feeling—and Katie blushed. I liked when she blushed so much. I liked lots of things about her. Not that there wasn’t room for change or—

“Evan and I will have lots of time to discuss things further after our guest leaves,” my father said.

The smile was still on his lips, but there was an ominous tone—one that Katie wouldn’t even have noticed. But I had. And so had my mother.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I
didn’t get it. I didn’t get how anyone who had a house like that could be with someone like me. Evan’s house was beyond the beyond and then some.

Lisa lived in a huge, expensive place too—it looked like it was set in a park. I didn’t have the words to describe the architecture, but it was covered in dirty old stone and had a slate roof with lots of pretty points. It was for sure exactly what you’d think of if someone told you to close your eyes tight and then said, “Quick, think mansion!”

But Evan’s—Evan’s house was all boxes and right angles, glass on glass, tubular steel and concrete, inside and out, except that inside, there were leather places to sit … if you dared—white-on-white leather.

I’d never been so scared of a hallway in my life. As soon as we stepped in and started to cross the polished stone floors, Evan put his hand protectively behind my back. I loved it when he did that. It filled me up and made me brave.

“Well, what do you think?” he whispered.

“Oh my God, Evan, I don’t know. It’s like a very, very expensive IKEA store.”

He didn’t stop laughing until his father came out to greet us. I am such an idiot. I don’t even know why what I said was funny.

Evan was surprised to see his dad walk over to us, I could tell. I was surprised too. Evan had told me it was just going to be his mother, because his father was supposed to be still away. So it was just lucky for me that I got to meet the both of them. Mr. Campbell was very handsome. Well, not as handsome as Joey, Mom’s silver fox, but distinguished-looking handsome. And so was she. Mrs. Campbell, I mean. Mom would have said there wasn’t an ounce of fat on her and that she could’ve actually used a pound here and there. Mom also liked to say that a man likes to have something to hang on to, when all is said and done. But let’s face it, the Campbells were a whole different class of people, and who knew what they liked?

“Well, what is so funny? Do share,” said Mr. Campbell, reaching for my hand.

My heart stopped. What if Evan told him about the IKEA thing? I’d already figured out that it must have been a massively insulting comparison, even though I had said “very, very expensive.”

“Katie is always making me laugh, Dad.”

I shook Mr. Campbell’s hand and then Evan’s mother’s—she was just a foot or two behind him.

“You’ll see. It’s one of the reasons I love her.”

Love her?
Love her?
Evan said “love her.” Did he mean me? What did he mean, exactly? I kept smiling and nodding as we went into a blindingly white living room, but I was parsing his words, which were still in the hallway. Was it like “You gotta love her”
or
“Mum, Dad, this is Katie Rosario and I love her”? The only thing that snapped me out of it was when Mrs. Campbell offered me a pomegranate juice concoction. Dear God, sipping Perrier in this room would have made me nervous. Pomegranate? Really? And to top it off, the crystal glass felt paper-thin. I cupped it like it was the Holy Grail. It was only when I was seated that I noticed that not all of the white sofas and pillows were pure white. Close up I could see that some things were actually covered in a creamy or off-white silk fabric.

“Thank you for inviting me to your beautiful home, Mrs. Campbell.” She caught me staring at the pillow closest to my drink in abject terror.

“It’s dupioni silk, my dear. Lovely, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes, of course. It’s so lovely.” I was frantically mirroring her every gesture and now tried to get her “tone” right. Mrs. Campbell smiled. Okay, so far, so good.

“I imagine that Shakespeare’s Katherina may even have worn dupioni,” Mrs. Campbell said.

“Well, she may have,” I agreed. It was nice of her to bring up the play. “But I have a feeling the school budget won’t allow for Katherina to be smothered in silk.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sure that you would look splendid draped in full-on dupioni.” Was she mocking me? My mom would have had a field day with “a little dupioni for my little dope,” or something. No, Evan’s mom was still smiling at me.

“Philip and I are so looking forward to the production. Evan hasn’t been in a play since middle school. And you’re so strong and beautiful, my dear, you’ll look wonderful in whatever they concoct for you. The perfect Kate!”

I
loved
this woman.

Okay, so, dinner was different. It was like I’d been raised in a cave until that night. We had this flat white fish that wasn’t covered in batter and didn’t have a drop of cream of tartar sauce. We also had this sweet potato and quinoa combo that Mrs. Campbell had “picked up” at Whole Foods, along with a spinach and mushroom salad. I didn’t have a clue what “quinoa” was. It was all good, I guess, except I was still hungry.

All through dinner, Mr. Campbell told us—but it was really like he was just telling me—all about his latest business “transactions.” The way he told it, he got on and off planes the way I rode the subway. He had just returned from Tokyo that day! Japan! He made it all sound so glamorous and funny. Sounded like you practically had to take your shoes off just to order tea over there. He was so patient about explaining the business terms to me. I almost understood what he was talking about. Now I could see where Evan got his gift.

Then he asked about my father. I don’t remember what I said, but I’m sure it was stupid. All I know is that I jumped up and the next thing I knew I was scraping off plates with Mrs. Campbell in their stainless-steel kitchen, and I mean that—all of the appliances, and even the backsplash, were stainless steel. I could hardly wait to tell my mom, or better yet Joey—he would have been so impressed.

I winced. I hadn’t even told Mom about Evan yet. She’d been so busy with Joey and, let’s face it, with avoiding me. Mom always avoided me for weeks after one of her crying jags. They were going away again the next day. Well, at least we argued a lot less when she wasn’t around to argue with.

I could feel Mrs. Campbell sneaking looks at me as I scraped, rinsed and stacked.

“Evan tells me that you do all of the cooking at your house.” She was rinsing raspberries. “Not that I cook, per se …”

“Oh, you’re a great cook,” I lied. “Like that fish thing you did. I wouldn’t know how to do that. I just do your basic thaw and serve and then throw the Kraft’s Thousand Island on some lettuce kind of stuff. But it keeps us going, and I like to learn. Like, weirdly enough, Joey can cook. That’s Mom’s boyfriend. He’s famous. He’s on concrete benches all over the city. Anyway, Joey cooks with real ingredients, fresh and everything, and I sort of pay attention to what he’s doing.”

Mrs. Campbell just kept smiling.

“I wish I knew how to do that spinach salad thing that you picked up at the …”

“Whole Foods.”

“Right.” I still didn’t know if that was a store or a restaurant.

“I hate to disillusion you, because I’m basking in the way you look at me, Katie, but I don’t know what they do either. Your mother must be very proud of you.”

Oh yeah.…
Wait, she wasn’t trying to be funny. I chopped faster.

“Evan tells me that not only are you the lead in the play, but you work double shifts at a bakery, stay on the honour roll, and you make dinner every night. That is a considerable feat.”

Wow. What was it with these people? Wait! Evan talked about me! To his mother! And now she was talking to me like I mattered. What a family! If I ever had kids, I was going to raise them exactly the same way, telling them how great they were—whether they were or not.

“Well, dinner is all about eating, right? And the honour roll isn’t that impressive. I mean, I used to think so until I met Evan, and now I know what a real education and real smarts are.”

She walked up behind me and gently turned me around. “Don’t sell yourself short, Katie. You start now and you’ll never stop. It’s … addictive.” Her eyes clouded and somehow she looked a little less skinny right then. “Okay!” She cleared up. “Let’s get this to the men.” She slid the raspberries and sliced strawberries into some other mystery fruit, picked up the bowl and went back into the dining room. I took a last quick glance around that shiny, shiny, kitchen. What had just happened?

Mr. Campbell and Evan both looked a little guilty when we got back. Evan actually stood up and held the chair for his mother, then me. I mean, if I hadn’t loved him already I’d have tumbled right then and there!

Before Mrs. Campbell started spooning out the fruit thingy—if that was dessert, no wonder she was so skinny—she reached over and placed her hand over mine and looked directly at Evan. “I am so happy that you brought Katie home to meet us, dear. It’s going to be a real pleasure getting to know her better.”

Mr. Campbell raised his glass and said, “Hear, hear.” He winked at me.

It was practically the best night of my life. How sweet were they? How beautiful and glamorous and smart and nice! No wonder Evan was exactly the way he was!

Chapter Twenty-Four

“T
ramp!” Mom slapped me so hard the keys dropped out of my hand and onto the floor. “Where have you been, you tramp?”

“What? Ow! Mom!” I bent over to retrieve the keys. “What are you doing here?” I gasped.

“We’re going to go in the morning,” she said, now calm after the storm. But she still stepped towards me, pushing my back into the door. “Where were you?” She exhaled and finally stepped away. “It’s almost midnight. I know you have to be in bed early because of the bakery. Where the hell were you?” She took a few deep breaths. “Your little friend Lisa left a message. Wondering if you had any time to get together because she
misses
you and apologizes for being such a pill about
Evan
.” Mom made a face on the “misses” part. “So don’t bother with some garbage about being with your friends. I know you only have her and the queer.”

“Travis is, well, not for sure anyway …”

I heard the toilet flush. Of course Joey would be here. He came out into the living room still zipping up his pants. He took us both in and killed his smile.

“There
is
somebody, Mom, and I’ve been wanting to tell you,” I said.

I could see her breath quickening again. What was up? I glanced over at the dining room table. The empty plates and glasses were still there. They’d killed a couple of bottles of wine, but I didn’t see the scotch out.

“You’d like him, he’s really rich.”

“Then what’s he doing with you? Milking the cow, I suspect.”

“Cheryl!” That was Joey. He looked at Mom like he’d never seen her before.

“He is NOT like that! Evan is a gentleman and he
loves
me. He even said so in front of his parents!” Okay, not really, but sort of.