Before she knew it, all eyes were on her and the now silent room waited eagerly for her response to the performance. Time to think quickly. She did the only thing she could think to do. She clapped. She clapped hard, if for no other reason than to buy herself a few extra seconds to think of which words should leave her mouth and which ones should not. “That was a…dance sensation,” she finally managed. “A real show of skill and…tenacity. Where did you learn this routine, may I ask?” Big gulp of wine.

Vanessa beamed and answered for them. “The girls are enrolled in a hip-hop dance class at the country club in Vale. It’s a great way for them to meet people.”

Who work on the corner? Emory wanted to ask. “Well, it’s clear you girls are committed to your craft. Everyone ready for dinner?”

Fifteen minutes into the meal and Emory couldn’t take the inane babbling of her nieces for another minute. They seemed obsessed with three things and three things only. Money, fashion, and how they could topple every kid in their path to social (and probably world) domination. Feeling the need to change the subject, she turned to Vanessa. “How’s your End Hunger campaign going this year? Just a few months from your big benefit, right? Christmastime?”

“That’s right. I’ve been killing myself making the arrangements. We’ve secured Sting to play the event and we’re working on a big name to emcee. You’ll be there, of course, with a checkbook? It’s important that we represent the Owen name the way mother would have.”

“Of course, I’ll be there. I’ve never missed it.”

“How’s work?” Lawrence chimed in.

“It’s been a busy quarter, but we’re continuing to make strides in the market.”

Vanessa frowned. “Truly, Emory, do you really find it fulfilling, bombarding consumers with excessive amounts of corporate news?”

Emory set her fork down. “I personally don’t think of it as bombarding anyone. I work in news. My company gets the information in the hands of the people who need it.”

Vanessa took a delicate sip of wine. “Chloe, if you could spend your time healing sick people, like your father, or using satellites to transmit stock quotes to newspapers, which would you choose?”

As if channeling Tiny Tim, Chloe regarded Vanessa with solemn eyes. “I would heal sick people, Mommy, because that would make a difference in the world.”

Emory fought with everything she had not to roll her eyes and instead smiled at her niece. “I would hope you would do whatever profession made you happy, Chloe.”

“What’s that?” Calie screamed, pulling her feet into her chair.

Emory followed Calie’s gaze through the glass of the back window and couldn’t help but relax into a grin. “Don’t worry. That’s just Walter. He hangs out here sometimes. I think he’s just stopping in to say hi.”

“A stray dog?” Calie practically shrieked. “He probably has rabies!”

Emory mulled this over. “Highly doubtful, but maybe I should take him in to see a vet for his shots.”

“So then he is your dog,” Vanessa said, her expression sour.

“Well, not exactly. I feed him and sometimes he comes in and hangs out. He’s friendly though. Girls, maybe when we finish eating, I can introduce you. He loves to play.”

Calie looked at her as if she’d just suggested they skydive off the second story. “Or not.”

Emory looked outside at Walter who regarded her with uncharacteristically sad eyes. She wondered if he somehow understood that he was not welcome among these new guests. Emory offered him a wink in solidarity.

“So how’s Lucy?” Vanessa segued.

“She’s great.”

“I don’t know how you work together after a breakup.”

“Because we enjoy and respect each other. We just weren’t right in a relationship.”

“Well, let that be a lesson to you.” Vanessa gestured with her fork. “Learn something from the experience.”

“I’ll try.” Though Emory didn’t have a clue as to what that meant or what she should learn.

“You should try dating,” Calie said. “That way you won’t be so alone.”

Ouch. That stung.

Vanessa picked at her food as if investigating a science project. “Not everyone is meant to settle down. I think what it comes down to, girls, is that your Aunt Emory prefers to be on her own, which is why it didn’t work out with her friend Lucy.”

Feeling the need to defend herself, Emory spoke up. “Well, first of all, that’s not exactly true, and second, I have actually been seeing someone.” Damn it, the words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop them.

“Really? That’s new information. I had no idea.”

Might as well, she thought to herself. She’d already come this far. “Her name is Sarah, and things seem to be going well. It’s early, but maybe you’ll meet her one day.”

“We’d like that,” Lawrence offered. Emory smiled warmly at him and nodded, grateful for the rare show of support.

“And she has a daughter, Grace. She’s eight.”

Interestingly enough, the room went quiet. Vanessa frowned at her. “Are you sure that’s something you’re ready for? You’ve never wanted kids, Emory, and I always thought that was a very mature outlook given the way you live.”

Emory stared at the table. “People change. Maybe my priorities are shifting.”

Vanessa squinted in scrutiny. “Uh-huh. Where did you meet her? This woman.”

“Well, coincidentally, she works for the company that cleaned and sorted Mother’s house.”

“So when you went in for a consultation?”

“No, she handled the job herself so we met at the house. She’s the daughter of the owner.”

Vanessa smiled and stared at her for a beat. “How interesting.” And she was instantly very fascinated with her plate.

Emory wanted to let the discussion end there, badly she did. It would have been the smart thing to do, but she couldn’t quite get around Vanessa’s tone of voice. “What does that mean, interesting?”

“It’s just not like you, Emory. A cleaning woman?” She laughed then. “What’s next, the pool girl? The mail carrier? I mean, even you have to admit, it’s a tad cliché. But,” she said, regaining composure, “we all have our little dalliances. Heaven knows I did before I met Lawrence. It’s probably just something you need to get out of your system. But for the sake of that child, do it soon. It’s not fair to either of them to drag it out.”

Emory was deeply offended. “I don’t think of it as a dalliance, and her job is not that important to me.”

“I’m just saying I’m not surprised you didn’t bring her up sooner is all. I get it. I’m not judging you, darling.”

Really? Because I was just wondering how judgmental one person could be. Realizing no good could possibly come of this conversation, she stood and cleared the dishes from the table, all the while groping for a more neutral subject matter. “So what time does your plane leave tomorrow?”

“Early,” Lawrence answered. “Six a.m. I have a surgical consultation tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh no.” Emory did a happy dance inside her head, already planning her cartwheels. “So soon?”

*

“It was horrible. No, it was worse than horrible. It was like some kind of creepy albeit pretentious Candid Camera episode. I mean, the dance, Sarah. I wish you could understand what I’m talking about here.”

Sarah applied the last bit of pink polish to her toes while she balanced the phone up against her ear and sympathized. “I think you’re doing a pretty good job of describing it.”

“I’m sorry if it’s too late to call. As soon as they left, I had to find someone to talk to who would completely counterbalance the whole experience.”

Sarah smiled at the phone. “I’m happy you called. I was wondering how things went.” At first, Sarah was a little hurt that Emory hadn’t invited her to meet Vanessa, but hearing how the evening played out, it seemed to make sense. “Has there ever been a time when the two of you were close?”