Best Practice

by Carsen Taite

  The concierge stand was crowded, and when Grace finally managed to cut through the crowd, the harried man working there didn’t bother with courtesies.

  “Reservation?” he asked briskly.

  “Yes, Maldonado, party of four.” She watched the man type furiously on his tablet and then glance back up at her with a frown. “I called to confirm earlier today,” she said.

  “You added another person to your party.”

  “Yes. Is that a problem?”

  “It might be.”

  Perry appeared at her side. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, just a little mix-up,” Grace said. “What do we need to do to fix this?”

  “You’ll have to wait. You can go to the bar and I’ll let you know when we’re ready for you.” The man looked back down at his tablet, clearly dismissing them.

  Grace waved a hand in front of his face. “I’d rather sort this out now. My original reservation was for three people, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And if I showed up with a party of three, you’d have a table ready for me, right?”

  He scanned his tablet. “I would. You see—”

  Grace raised her hand to stop him. “I’m looking around here, and I don’t see any tables that only seat three people. I do see plenty of tables that seat four that aren’t full. I’m thinking your manager would believe that having a four-top full is better than an almost full four-top. Agreed?”

  He followed her gaze into the main dining room and slowly nodded his head. “Fine. Is your entire party here?”

  Grace turned toward the door, relieved to see her mom and dad walking toward them. “Yes, we’re all here.”

  Again, the man followed her gaze and he came to attention at the sight of Senator Maldonado approaching. She was used to the attention her dad always garnered when he entered a room. His commanding presence was one of the reasons he’d been elected and reelected to public office over the years, and she respected it despite the distance it placed between them. Senator Maldonado usurped the role of father more times than she cared to count, but she’d managed to reconcile the two roles into a manageable mix.

  Her mother hugged her. Grace motioned to Perry. “Mom, you remember Perry, Campbell’s sister.”

  “Yes, but the Perry I remember was a little girl. Look how grown up you are.” Grace caught Perry bristle slightly at the word “little,” but as her mother ran a hand along the lapel of Perry’s jacket in a show of affection, her shoulders relaxed and she smiled. “It’s great to see you, Mrs. M.”

  “Always so polite, this one. How is Campbell?”

  “She’s doing very well and sends her regards.”

  Grace watched their exchange, surprised at how quickly Perry went from rebel to suck-up in the presence of her parents. “Do you think Dad is going to join us anytime soon?”

  The three of them turned back to see him still shaking hands with the other waiting patrons. He looked up and caught her watching him and strode over. “It’s good to see you, my favorite daughter,” he said, using the tired, but reliable joke since she was the only girl child in the family. He pulled her into an Insta-worthy embrace. “Are they ready for us?”

  The host appeared at that moment, all smiles now that he knew they were someone important instead of mere peasants vying for a table with the rest of the masses. He showed them to a secluded booth far from the teeming crowd at the front of the room. Grace followed along behind, trying not to grouse about how a made in advance reservation wasn’t good enough to be honored by the restaurant on its own.

  “Are you okay?” Perry whispered, placing a hand on her elbow.

  “Sure. Yes. Of course.”

  “You should practice not frowning when you say that. It would make your words a whole lot more convincing.”

  Grace rolled her neck and attempted a smile. “Sorry. Dinner with Dad makes me tense.”

  “I can see that. No worries. I’m here to be your support. We got this.”

  Perry sounded calm and self-assured and her confidence infused Grace with some of her own along with a heavy dose of gratitude. “Thanks. I really do appreciate having a buffer.”

  “Happy to be whatever you need.”

  Perry’s tone was laced with innuendo, and Grace was certain it wasn’t just her imagination. If Perry was anyone else, she’d be tempted to reciprocate, but acknowledging Perry’s flirtation in any way would only encourage her and she had no business doing that. No matter how cute Perry looked tonight.

  Once seated, they ordered drinks and Grace attempted to steer the conversation to safe ground. “I saw that the immigration bill you sponsored with Senator Murphy sailed through. Congratulations.”

  Her dad reached into his suit pocket and fished out a pen. “There were so many people involved with the bill, the president used a different pen to sign each letter of his name. “I had to fight Murphy for the M, but I won.” He rolled it between his fingers, and then handed it to her. “I know it’s only a pen, but this victory symbolizes a way forward for many people who haven’t had a voice.” He patted his heart. “I’m keeping it right here to remind me how privileged I am—we are—that we didn’t have to fight for the freedoms we enjoy.”

  Grace murmured her agreement, certain he’d repeated the story many times to many people before this telling. She’d heard the sentiments a thousand times before, and after a while, the words lost their shine with replication. It wasn’t that she didn’t champion immigration issues or other social justice causes, but she did so quietly, choosing to speak with cash donations rather than taking center stage. Whenever she was persuaded to attend one of the many benefits throughout the year, inevitably she was cornered by well-meaning folks begging her to serve on their board. She knew she was qualified, but she also knew they weren’t asking her because of any talents she might possess. Rather, they wanted the cachet that came from having a powerful senator’s daughter to prop up at fundraisers as evidence of their reach.

  The waiter reappeared to take their order, and Grace ordered the most expensive steak on the menu, partly because she’d read it had garnered excellent reviews in Bon Appétit, but partly to get under her father’s skin since she knew he never ordered anything more expensive than the mid-range of the menu in order to keep his everyman image.

  “Interesting choice,” he said. “Perry, what would you like?”

  Perry ordered a pasta dish after asking the waiter a couple of questions to make sure it contained no meat.

  “And we’ll split the salmon,” Grace’s dad said, indicating her mother. He handed the menus to the waiter and focused his attention on Perry. “Perry, is being a vegetarian a social choice or a dietary one?”

  Grace braced for what was sure to be a lecture.

  “Is there a difference?” Perry asked. “I mean all diets are related to social conscience. For example, what we choose to eat is often a function of not only geographic and economic circumstances, but also cultural ones, whether moral or merely embracing tradition. Sunday roasts, Friday fish, Monday beans.” She paused and gave them a lopsided grin. “Sorry, I have a tendency to go on. But to answer your question, I feel better physically and mentally when I don’t eat animal products. I’m not perfect about it—but I do my best. Believe it or not, it’s easier when I’m traveling since most of the places I’ve been meat is not the central protein at each meal. It’s definitively a privilege Americans enjoy more than the rest of the world.”

  Grace shifted in her seat, wanting to poke holes in Perry’s argument, but she’d made good points and had obviously impressed her father—not an easy task. Instead she decided to change the subject. “Are you staying in Austin for a while?” She directed the question to her mother.

  “A few days at least, and then we have a slate of events planned. It’s a large constituency and your father has town halls scheduled around the state before the next session convenes.”

  She’d expected as much. The citizens of Texas were t
he firstborn children in the Maldonado family, sucking all of the attention out of the room, leaving little time and energy for her. She was being a bit of a baby, but she couldn’t help but wonder what her life would’ve been like if her parents had had normal careers, the kind where they came home at the end of a day at the office instead of spending evenings and weekends raising money and networking for the next big thing. “Thanks, then, for making me the first stop on your tour,” she said, striving to keep any tone out of her voice.

  “It was definitely planned,” her dad said. “We have some news. Perry, can you keep a secret?”

  Perry grinned. “Isn’t that the main skill lawyers are required to possess? You bet.”

  Her dad raised his glass in one hand and grasped her mom’s hand with the other. “Next week, we plan to announce my candidacy for governor of Texas.”

  Grace had started to raise her own glass for the toast but stopped midair as the words slammed against her brain. “Governor?”

  “Yes. Isn’t it exciting news?”

  He tilted his glass toward hers, but her hand was frozen in place while her brain whirred out of control. “I’m not sure exciting is the word I’d use. Surprising, bewildering might be more accurate. What about your work in the Senate?”

  “Big picture, Grace. As governor, I’ll be in a better position to do good things for the people right here at home without the scrabbling and infighting of DC politics. Besides, I could do with a little executive experience on my résumé.”

  Executive experience. Grace rolled those words over in her mind a few times, but she was certain she understood the code. “You’re preparing to run for president.”

  He looked almost impressed that she’d figured out his master plan, but his words were classic politician. “I’m preparing to do a fantastic job as the next governor of Texas. We’ll do great things here.”

  Grace turned to her mother. “What do you think about this?”

  She placed a hand on Grace’s arm in a move that was probably supposed to be comforting. “Your father does important work. I’ll be right there with him every step of the way.”

  “You both realize that if Dad becomes the governor, I’ll be conflicted out of a major chunk of my regulatory business?”

  “Think of the big picture, Grace. We all make sacrifices for the common good.”

  Grace wanted to scream, but she knew it would accomplish nothing. Her parents had never left her wanting for food, clothes, or shelter, but when it came to more esoteric needs, they would always put the needs of the “citizens” ahead of hers. She caught Perry’s eye and saw sympathy and compassion—huge for someone who might point out that she was lucky to have parents at all, let alone such accomplished ones. And she should be grateful for them, but right now the only thing she was grateful for was having Perry at her side when her father dropped his bomb.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Let’s go to Birdie’s and grab a drink,” Perry said as they left the restaurant. “That was super intense, and I think we both could use one.”

  “What I should do is go home and burrow,” Grace said. “It’s late for an old-timer like me.”

  “As if.” Perry wavered for a moment. She wanted to push, but she didn’t want to push Grace away. It was a delicate balance and she wasn’t used to being delicate. She chose her words carefully, not bothering to examine why she felt the need to tread carefully with Grace when if it were anyone else, she would railroad them until she got what she wanted. “You’ll feel better if you process some of that before you go to sleep. I promise.”

  Grace reached for her hand and squeezed. “When did you get to be the wise one?”

  “I’ve always been this way. When did you start to notice?”

  In the shadow of the light outside the restaurant, Grace’s expression morphed from lines of stress to a warm glow of radiance. Perry was completely captivated, unwilling and unable to look away and unaware of anything else around them. Beats of silence passed, but their eyes remained locked, holding them in an uncertain embrace.

  “Do you have your ticket?”

  Perry silently cursed the valet who’d wandered into the middle of their moment. She watched as Grace produced the ticket and a generous tip, and when the SUV came round, she brushed off the second valet who tried to open her door, eager to get back into the bubble with Grace.

  “Maybe one drink would be a good way to unwind,” Grace said as she pulled out of the parking lot.

  “Trust me on this.” Perry held back a self-satisfied smile, unwilling to count her victories until she had Grace in the club, ready to relax. “You look fantastic and it’d be a waste not to show off that dress.” A moment of awkward silence hung in the air after her words and, anxious to fill the space, she rushed to say, “Besides, it’s still early enough that it shouldn’t be too loud. You know, for your sensitive older woman ears.”

  Grace play slapped her. “You’re hilarious.”

  “It’s one of my many desirable traits.”

  “You’re supposed to let other people say things like that.”

  “I learned to be self-sufficient at a young age.” Perry laughed to cover the spike of pain at the reference to her parents’ death.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “Go for the punchline at the expense of your feelings.” Grace turned into the parking lot for Birdie’s. “You suffered a big loss, in some ways more so than Campbell and Justin because your parents weren’t around when you probably needed them the most. And I’m just now realizing how rude it was for me to ask you to come to family dinner tonight. How insensitive am I?”

  Perry’s heart melted at the sympathy reflected in Grace’s eyes. “You’re not insensitive at all. Other people’s parents are more of a comfort than a painful reminder. If anything, tonight reminded me not to romanticize everything I didn’t have. For all I know, Mom and Dad would’ve lost their minds at the thought of me traipsing around the globe, living in third world countries after they worked hard to pay for law school. I was lucky to have the time with them that I did, and while their deaths made no sense in the scheme of the universe, I have to believe it wasn’t entirely senseless even if I can’t figure out the reasons and even if I’m a little screwed up because of it.”

  “Perry Clark, you’re pretty damn smart.”

  “I know, right? And my smart meter is telling me we should go inside before that security guard over there shines his flashlight through the window.” Perry scrambled out of the SUV before Grace could make another remark about how she used levity to cope. The grief she felt about her parents’ death was always right below the surface, especially when she was back in Austin, but there was something different about this time and she was certain that something was Grace. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around why though. Grace had been in her life for a very long time, and her memories of her were deeply rooted in family, but being around her now was different, refreshing, new. Was it her imagination their relationship had shifted or did Grace feel it too?

  “Ready?”

  Grace was standing close, and just like outside the restaurant, Perry was transfixed by her beauty and the warmth of her smile. Don’t ruin this moment by overthinking it. She looked down at Grace’s outstretched hand and shoved her second-guessing away. Friends held hands all the time. No big deal. She grasped Grace’s hand in her own. “Absolutely.”

  The bar was as packed as it had been the night before, but everything about the atmosphere was different. The top forty pop mix had been replaced with club-style techno beat, and a machine pumped in a haze of white smoke. Other women checked them out as they walked through the crowd with equal glances of approval and jealousy at their clasped hands. Perry cast a sidelong glance at Grace who seemed not to notice the attention they were drawing, but she reveled in it like the nerd who’d been asked to the dance by the prom queen. She pointed out a table where the occupants were leaving. “Grab that and I’ll get us some drink
s.”

  Grace made her way to the table and Perry took a moment to watch her go, allowing herself to imagine what it would be like if this really were a date, and then she remembered she’d suggested this outing so Grace could decompress from dinner with her parents, not for her to exercise her dream date fantasies. She ordered a couple of Manhattans from a femme young bartender who didn’t bother to card her.

  “You’re a lifesaver,” Grace said, taking a deep drink from the glass. She fished the cherry out and popped it in her mouth. “I usually let these sit in the bottom of the glass and soak up all the bourbon, but tonight I don’t feel like delaying my gratification.”

  From your lips. Perry murmured her approval and downed a healthy dose of her drink. “You want to talk about it?”

  “What’s there to say? I love my parents, but I will never be first to them or even second. Sometimes I wonder if they had children because it was the politically expedient thing to do. You know, you have to draw in those family people and how can you do that without having some of your own.”

  She followed her remark with a half-smile, and Perry shook her head. “Nope. No covering up the pain. It’s okay to be mad at your folks. I mean if you can’t be mad at your family, who can you be mad at?”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “Sure it does. The people you’re the closest to are the ones most likely to get on your nerves. It’s true. I don’t make the rules.”

  “Noted.” Grace pointed toward the dance floor. “I don’t want to talk about my parents anymore. Let’s go dance.”

  Perry struggled to look like it was perfectly normal that she and Grace would take to the dance floor together. She raised her glass. “Bottoms up.”

  Grace raised her glass and clinked it against hers. “To a good time.”

  “Cheers to that.” Perry downed the rest of her drink, enjoying the warm slide of whiskey as it burned its way into her stomach. “Ready?”

  Grace set her glass down and reached into her pocket. “One sec.” She pulled out her phone and held it up. “This might be my parents.” She stared at the screen, grinned, and typed a quick reply.