The Caterer

Chapter 46

T ABBY WATCHED THE SUNRISE come to the valley outside her parents’ house. For the moment, things were quiet, most of the party guests gone. She and the kids would leave after lunch to give Paul a chance to get some things out of the apartment. All weekend they barely spoke to each other, slept on other sides of the bed. He moved around her, Tabby unsure what to say.

If she admitted she was happy for Alice, wasn’t that agreeing Delany Clare was okay? If she got the help Paul demanded, didn’t that make her weak? She was not weak, and Delany Clare was a scoundrel. She wanted to be happy for Alice—but what about what Delany did to her? He gave Alice the opportunity to soar while clipping Tabby’s wings and sending her crashing to earth. To just move on from the summer, to stop trying to reposition herself in the tech world, to admit maybe there might be something else she could do, didn’t that negate everything she went through ?

“Morning, Kitty Cat,” her father said from behind her. “You’re up early.”

“Did you get Paul to the MARC okay?”

"He caught a ride back with Alice.”

“She left already?” Tabby looked over her shoulder.

“Paul said he might stay at her place, and I think she has an event tonight.” He took a drink of his coffee. She looked at the view again. He started several sentences. Tabby rolled her eyes.

“It’s fine, Dad.”

They had never been good at talking. He found her abrasive and impatient. She wanted him to get to the point. And yet, it was the better qualities about her father she loved most about Paul—his patience, his lack of judgment toward others, his belief in her. Her dad got her into coding, told her to pursue it when her mother thought all that time looking into a computer screen would ruin her eyes.

“She didn’t tell you what happened, did she?”

“What do you mean?” She faced him, her father walking into the greenhouse. Tabby sighed and followed him. Why couldn’t her father just tell her what was going on? She leaned on a worktable and let him check his vines and adjust his grow lights.

“Bobbie came to see her last week, told her Macon wanted to take over Hasty Pudding.” Tabby started to say she was right, but her father held up his hand. “Alice thinks it was a lie, an intimidation tactic.” He set his arm on a workbench and leaned into it. “Did you know her food truck burned last week in that three-alarm fire?”

“She didn’t tell me that,” Tabby said softly.

“I know you’re mad at Delany, but I think you’ve missed something in all of this.”

“What is that?” She crossed her arms.

“Your sister is happy, really happy. And it’s not just Hasty Pudding.” He rested his hand on her forearm, Tabby watching a spot on the wall. “He’s a good man, Tabby. Alice trusts him, that should tell you something.” He kissed her cheek and went into the house. Tabby let out her breath. Yeah, she’d seen it too. Her sister smiled more, was lighter than she’d been since before she met her ex. Tabby suspected a man was involved somewhere. She wanted to hold onto her anger, but she couldn’t justify denying Alice what she herself was getting ready to lose. Real, honest love.

Annie walked into the living room of the apartment, Tabby looking back from the TV. They came home before dinner, the kids needing to get ready for school the next day. Tabby told the twins their dad was working on his case. He’d been gone enough in the last two months that neither questioned her. She dreaded trying to sleep without Paul there, the apartment uninviting without him.

“What’s up?” Tabby asked. Annie sat on the couch and crossed her legs, a notebook in her lap.

“How do you code?”

“How do you code?” Tabby laughed. “Why?” She reached out and fluffed Annie’s hair, getting the part in the middle again before she pulled one side behind her daughter’s ear.

“I want to make a game.”

“You want to make a game?”

Annie giggled. “Are you going to repeat everything I say?”

Tabby laughed too. “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“I was working with Aunt A on this idea for a game.” She opened her notebook and kept talking over Tabby’s objection. “And I thought since you were such a great coder, you could help me.”

“You think I’m a good coder?”

“Yeah, I mean Aunt A said so. Said you were a top coder who could change the world.”

Her throat constricted; Tabby desperate not to cry.

“What’s your idea? ”

Annie scooted closer and opened her notebook. It was a rewrite of Sleeping Beauty, because how stupid that all she did was lay there while the boy got to have all the fun. She wanted to rewrite the trope, as Aunt A called it, and do a game where the girls get to kick butt, while the boys wait. Tabby reached for the notebook and glanced at the storyboard while Annie talked.

“You’ve seemed sad. I thought maybe this could cheer you up.”

She looked at Annie. “You know I’ve been sad?”

Annie hung her head and played with a nonexistent spot on the sofa. “Since you lost your company, you’ve been sad and kind of detached.”

“That’s a big word for a ten-year-old.” Tabby narrowed her eyes.

“I asked my teacher what the word was for someone who seems to be separated from everyone else and not doing what they used to love. She said it was detached.”

Tabby nodded. How blind she’d become to her own children.

“So do you want to learn to code, or do you expect me to do all the work?”

Annie’s eyes got big, and she smiled wide. “You can teach me how to code?”

“I would love to, around your homework. Maybe we can work on this over the weekend? Now go to bed.”

Annie hugged her and kissed her cheek before walking out of the room. Tabby reached for the notebook, full of pages of ideas and storyboards. Some of it was crude, but there was something there. Annie had a list of characters and scenes and how a person progressed from one chapter to the next. Tabby found a notepad on the base of the coffee table and began to work out the details. Her little girl was onto something.