“No,” Marissa says. “My mother applied in 2016 but she’s still on the waitlist.”
“It’s a very exclusive club,” Lucinda says. “Especially for a single parent.”
“But you belong, Grammy,” Carson says. “And you’re single.”
“Yes, well, my father…” Lucinda says.
“We’re going to use Leo’s membership,” Marissa says. “If my mother doesn’t get in.”
JP clears his throat.
Lucinda says, “I don’t think we need to be discussing an event so far in the future that may or may not ever take place.”
Ouch, Willa thinks. She feels empathy for Marissa, maybe for the first time since she’s known her. Mr. and Mrs. Bonham expressed this same cynicism when Willa and Rip said they wanted to get married.
Penny says, “College is about opening yourself up to new people and new ideas. It’s best to embark on that voyage with a clean slate.”
Marissa bows her head over the menu.
Carson says, “I hear the rabbit is delicious.”
Willa tries not to gag. The Field and Oar does offer a rabbit dish on the menu, and all three of the Quinboro children have joked about it for years. Willa breathes in through her nose, out through her mouth. The drinks arrive and JP raises his glass.
“Happy birthday, Mother,” he says. “You look wonderful.”
“Lucy never ages,” Penny says. “It’s irritating.”
They all touch glasses over the center of the table. Willa brings her wine under her nose and the smell further unsettles her stomach. She sets the glass down and picks up her water.
“Just so no one has any doubts, Leo and I are getting married, and we’re going to be happy. Just like Willa and Rip,” Marissa tells everyone.
Savannah says, “They’re certainly setting a wonderful example.”
“Can we please change the subject?” Leo says.
“What’s wrong, bruh?” Carson says. “Getting cold feet already? It’s only 2021.”
Marissa narrows her eyes. “Do you know why nobody likes you?” she says to Carson. “Because you try to be funny and, I don’t know, clever, but you’re just mean.”
Carson laughs. “Am I the one nobody likes?”
Marissa stands up, throwing her napkin on her plate. They all get a gander at just how short the dress she’s wearing is. It’s short enough to break every rule at the Field and Oar.
Marissa storms off.
Leo sighs. “We aren’t getting married.”
“Thank God,” Carson says.
“Thank God,” Lucinda says. “I hate to say it but her mother is never getting into this club. Gordy Hastings finds her brash.”
“You’re far too young to be talking about marriage,” JP says. “My advice is to wait as long as you can. There’s no reason to marry your high-school sweetheart. I’m sure Marissa is just the first of many girls for you.”
Willa can’t believe her father just said that! She kicks Rip under the table. “I’m getting the chicken,” she says to no one.
“Are you going to check on her?” Savannah asks Leo. “Or would you like me to do it?”
“She’s fine,” Leo says. He reaches for a dinner roll. “She does this all the time.”
She does this all the time, but this is the last time, Leo thinks. After dinner he’s going to drive Marissa home and end things. For good.
Marissa does come back, her nose pink and her eyes moist, and Dixie appears like someone heaven sent to take their order, so no one has to ask Marissa if she’s okay.
Willa needs air, so after she asks for the Statler chicken and Rip requests the sirloin, medium （he’s been ordering this for dinner at the club since he was five years old and can’t be persuaded to try anything new, but Willa views this as a sign of his innate loyalty）， Willa says, “We’re walking to the water. Be right back.”
“I’m coming with you,” Carson says.
“Stay put,” JP directs, and Leo feels his airway constrict because he wanted to go with Willa and Rip too. The atmosphere at the table is stifling.
Willa and Rip stroll hand in hand over the clipped green lawn, past the flagpole and the cannon—shot off each night at sunset—to the water’s edge. Willa has a vision of them a year from now at this same dinner, only they’ll be parents. Right? This pregnancy is going to thrive. It has to.
“I ordered wine because—”