The Oakdale Dinner Club

by Kim Moritsugu

  She was going way overboard. But she wasn’t trashing the idea. “I can’t believe you like it.”

  “Why not? This is what we’ve wanted for a while, isn’t it? For you to start another small business that can be built into something bigger?”

  “It is?”

  “Sure. And now that I’m unemployed, I could look after some of the administrative and financial details.”

  They hadn’t come close to dealing with the infidelity issue, and yet Sam felt they’d turned a corner somewhere in there. A corner they hadn’t been anywhere near for ages.

  “When do the girls get picked up from school?” Hallie said. “Maybe I’ll drive over. Surprise them.”

  Two weeks ago it might have bothered Sam that Hallie didn’t know the afternoon dismissal time. Not today. “School ends at three-thirty. And I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

  The Orensteins spent a quiet evening at home. Sam made pancakes for dinner, Hallie spent time with each of the girls in turn, and late in the evening the whole family was tucked up in their beds.

  Hallie rested her head on Sam’s chest and said, quietly, “He thinks I have a drinking problem.”

  Sam’s head came up off the pillow. “Who does?”

  “Andrew Bathgate.”

  His head dropped back down and spun around a few times. “Do you think you have a drinking problem?”

  “Maybe. A little. Though if I’ve been drinking more than I should, it’s because I’ve had to endure the hell that was working for that asshole, in that thankless job.”

  “I didn’t know you hated the job that much.” And he should have known. The same way he shouldn’t have turned a blind eye to her wine consumption. Or overconsumption.

  “Well, I did. And I’m going to cut down on the drinking. I didn’t drink anything tonight.”

  Sam stroked Hallie’s hair. Now that she was being open about her failings, he should man up and make his confession too. “Hallie, there’s something I have to tell you about, something I’ve done.”

  She sat up and pulled the sheet around her body. She was so beautiful.

  “No,” she said. “Don’t say anything. We’ve both made mistakes, but I want to forget about them, put them behind us. I want to go to sleep tonight and make a fresh start tomorrow like it’s our first morning in Oakdale. Like we’ve just moved in. Okay?”

  It might have made Sam feel better to unburden his guilt about Mary Ann. But a confession wouldn’t help Hallie any, he could see that. So for now, he’d bury the guilt, put it away. He reached for her, brought her back to lie with her head on his chest, and put his arm around her shoulders.

  “The neighbours seem friendly enough,” he said, “but do you think there’s any decent food to be had around here?”

  25

  Six weeks later — January 2011

  On a dreary Wednesday, Alice called Tom at his office.

  She said, “I was ready to leave a message, and you’re there. I thought you’d be out developing your next project.”

  “Why do that when I could sit here reflecting on my misspent life instead?”

  “What do you mean, misspent? Has something bad happened?”

  “No, all is well. My apologies. That was a poor attempt at joke making.”

  “Good, because I want to ask you a favour. In a moment of stupor, I agreed to give a class from the local high school a tour of the station building, complete with architectural history. It’s Josh Gray’s history class. Mary Ann’s son? And it’s all set up for next Monday at one o’clock, only someone’s called a departmental meeting here for that morning, and it’ll be tight for me to get back up to Oakdale from the city in time. So I wondered if you might be in the neighbourhood and able to fill in, to get started anyway, then I’ll run in late and finish up. What do you say?”

  “I’m happy to help, but I wouldn’t know how to begin addressing young people.”

  “Oh, come on. If anyone can talk, it’s you. And the whole thing’s supposed to be an hour-long visit, at the most, including walking through the building and a question period, so there’ll be a minimum of lecturing. And I’ll be there as soon as possible after my meeting.”

  “Very well. I shall be there. At the station, one o’clock Monday.”

  “Thanks, Tom. You’re a peach. Coffee and brownies on me afterwards at the new bakery.”

  Alice’s meeting ended late. She made good time out of the city, though, and might have reached Oakdale by one o’clock anyway if road work on the highway hadn’t backed up traffic, and added a half hour to her driving time.

  She pulled up at the station building — the new library — at one-twenty. The empty school bus that had transported Josh’s class was parked in front. She walked up to the library door, opened it, and heard, in the echoey space, the sound of Tom’s voice.

  “Imagine, if you would, that this building is in the center of a bustling town, filled with grand edifices. Healy’s Hotel, a fine four-storey establishment that features a wraparound veranda, stands across the street. The town hall, an imposing brick building fronted by a columned colonnade that was inspired by no less a monument than the Parthenon in Athens, can be seen at the end of Main Street. Imagine yourself to be one of the Scottish and Irish immigrants arriving here in the late eighteen hundreds, come across the ocean to take a domestic job in the large houses of the prosperous tradesmen who live here, tradesmen who were immigrants themselves only twenty years before.”

  Alice slipped inside the door, unnoticed by the group of teenagers standing with their faces turned to Tom. He stood on the second-floor gallery, cutting a dramatic figure in a navy blue suit, blue shirt, blue-green tie. Tara Peterson, the new librarian, stood off to the side. Alice tiptoed over, whispered hi, and asked how Tom was doing.

  Tara whispered back. “I’m going to ask Mr. Gagliardi to give tours more often. He’s so articulate, he’s a natural storyteller.”

  Alice stepped back, listened some more, and saw how Tom’s gift of the gab had grabbed his audience’s attention, how his theatricality suited the occasion. A born teacher, that’s what he was. Unlike Alice. “I’ll be back,” she said. Tara nodded without taking her eyes off Tom, and Alice went down the hall to the community room.

  She spent a blissfully quiet half hour there, reading an archeological journal she’d carried around for a week in her briefcase, and re-entered the main space just before two, in time to catch a teacher announcing that the student who organized the field trip had something to say to Mr. Gagliardi.

  “On behalf of the class,” Josh said, “I’d like to thank you for giving us a tour of the building, and for telling us so many interesting things about it.” A few people clapped and whistled. “And I’d like to thank Alice — Ms. Maeda — for arranging the tour, even though she isn’t here right now.”

  “Here I am,” Alice called out. Everyone turned and looked at her and she said, “Thank you all for coming,” and the round of thanks continued until the kids had filed out through the front door.

  In the quiet that followed, Alice said to Tom, “I hear you were mesmerizing. Sorry I was late, I got stuck in traffic. Did you miss me?”

  “Yes, I did,” Tom said. He pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his brow. “But this was an edifying experience. Most edifying.”

  “Ready for that brownie and coffee?”

  Tom and Alice sat in the wrought-iron café chairs that furnished the new bakery and sipped their coffees. “Pinch hitting for me today is not the only thing I have to thank you for,” Alice said.

  “What else could there be?”

  “Remember your idea that I take an au pair to Italy?”

  “You said you didn’t have one.”

  “I don’t, but I’ve arranged to take along my sometimes babysitter, a girl named Melina Pappas. I’m not the only person on the team who has a young child, so Melina’s going to run a small combination day camp and daycare over there, the parents will pitch in to pay her, and that way s
he gets to see the world and earn money, and I get to go on a dream dig without leaving Lavinia.”

  “How fortuitous.”

  “Try to sound like you care when you say that.”

  “I’m sorry. I envision you happy and fulfilled in Tuscany, while I, the stooped middle-aged man, trudge from meeting to construction site.”

  “That’s crazy. You have excellent posture.”

  “I’ll be the upright middle-aged man trudging around construction sites, then.”

  “What’s all this about trudging? You’re going to make a mid-life career change and become a teacher.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Didn’t you know? I’m psychic.”

  Mary Ann ran into Sam at the park in the middle of the afternoon. Not her usual dog-walking time, but she’d taken a day off work to deal with her increasingly complicated personal life, and had missed the morning stroll, making divorce-related calls.

  She waved at Sam from the park entrance, and walked across the baseball field to meet him. “Hi there. Have you been avoiding me?”

  Sam reached down to pat Honey. “Maybe. I don’t know what to say to you. I’m afraid I was relieved when I got your email saying the dinner club was disbanded.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t bite. You made your position clear about your marriage, and I respect that.”

  “Thank you.” A half smile. “I still feel awkward.”

  “I’ve seen Hallie picking the girls up at school a few times, and she hasn’t avoided me. You didn’t tell her?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I didn’t tell Bob, either. Though we are getting a divorce.”

  Sam paled. “You are?”

  “Nothing to do with you — it’s been coming for a while. Though you know what was odd?”

  “What?”

  “That no one seems to have blabbed around town that you and I were pawing each other at Chuck’s that night.”

  “I’ve worried about that, too. About the news getting back to Hallie.”

  “I guess, when you think about it, the only people there who knew us were not from Oakdale, they were outsiders. Except Alice. And she wouldn’t talk.”

  Sam said, “I wanted to ask you something about Alice. I was pretty drunk that night —”

  “Though functioning quite well for someone under the influence.”

  “— and I don’t necessarily remember everything that happened —”

  “I do.”

  “Mary Ann.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I was going to say that I had a vague recollection of you and Alice talking about reading each other’s minds. About real telepathy, I mean. Did that happen, or did I hallucinate it?”

  Mary Ann whistled for Honey. “The only thing I can think of that we might have said was ‘great minds think alike’ — it’s kind of the motto of our friendship.”

  “Do you two think alike?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Maybe that was it.” He didn’t sound too sure.

  Mary Ann produced a ball from her pocket, showed it to an excited Honey, used her tennis arm to throw it far and high across the field. “So what’s happening with that food shop idea you had?”

  26

  Four months later — May 2011

  Alice gave Lavinia a snack of dried apricots and almonds at the kitchen table and called Mary Ann. “Is it still okay for me to bring Lavinia over to be babysat during the shop opening?”

  “Sure. Melina will be here at six. What about Jake? Is he coming?”

  “He doesn’t know many people in Oakdale aside from Phoebe, so no.”

  “Some people wouldn’t dream of going to a social function alone when they have a perfectly good fuck buddy to wear on their arm.”

  “Who are you taking?”

  “I may go alone, too. Or drag Josh along.”

  “What happened to your new guy? Greg, is it? Or is that over already?”

  “It’s Grégoire, and I don’t know, he’s been clingy lately.”

  “Can’t have that.”

  “Plus it didn’t seem like a great idea to bring him to a party at which two of my former beaus will be present.”

  “But you and Drew and Sam are so sophisticated about it all.”

  “Aren’t we, though?”

  “See you there.”

  “I’ll save you a samosa.”

  Alice hung up and turned to Lavinia. “What should we take over to Mary Ann’s house? Do you want to bring one of your games or books? Or will you play with Kayla’s things?”

  Lavinia crunched on an almond. “Kayla said to bring my bead kit. So we can make bracelets.”

  “Kayla said that? When?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did you see her at school today?” Alice didn’t think the sixth graders saw much of the daycare kids in a typical day.

  “She told me. I heard her.”

  “Whatever. Do you know where the kit is? Are all the pieces still in it?”

  “It’s in my room.” Lavinia opened her mouth and showed Alice its contents — a chewed-up apricot sprinkled with almond fragments.

  “Very nice,” Alice said. “Now close your mouth, finish chewing that, and swallow it. I’ll get your bead kit and we’ll go.”

  Melina said, “Pizza again for the kids tonight?”

  Mary Ann checked her reflection in the door of the microwave. “I do feed them properly on nights when you’re not here. I give them vegetables. Organic ones, sometimes.”

  “I know you do.”

  “It’ll be rough on us when you’re in Europe. The kids will miss you, and my social life will be greatly curtailed.”

  “There’s always Josh,” Melina said. “He could babysit.”

  “He won’t be around much either. Haven’t you heard? He’s going on a summer study program. To Rome, of all places. He’s developed a new interest in European culture. His father’s paying for it.”

  Versus Melina’s working vacation to Europe. “Josh is lucky.”

  Mary Ann said, “Frankly, I think a summer away will do him good. He’s getting too big to be hanging around here. Literally too big. Have you noticed how he’s grown in the last few months?” She called up the back stairs. “Josh! Come on! We’ll be late.”

  Josh came into the kitchen, and Melina saw that he had grown. He’d developed a manly looking jaw and shoulders as well. And was that stubble on his chin?

  “Mom,” Josh said. “Promise you won’t kill me?”

  “You’re not going out dressed like that, I hope.”

  “I’m not going at all, if that’s okay.”

  “Why not?”

  “My stomach’s kind of upset. I don’t feel like being around all that fancy food.”

  Mary Ann placed a hand on his forehead. “Are you sick?”

  He moved her hand away. “I don’t have a fever. Just an upset stomach. It was probably the lunch they served in the cafeteria at school today. The ham in the quiche tasted off.”

  “Take it easy, then. And don’t bug Melina.”

  “Why would you say that? Do I ever bug Melina?”

  Melina said, “He doesn’t.”

  “Good. Off I go. I won’t be long.”

  Danielle opened the door of the shop, causing the bell above the door to ring, and saw Sarah, in a navy canvas apron over her clothes, laying out a platter of food on a round, skirted table in the middle of the space. “Hi, Sarah. Am I early? The place looks fabulous.”

  “You’re right on time,” Sarah said. “And it does look good, doesn’t it?”

  “Aren’t you worried that no one will come? What if only five people show up, and Sam is stuck with food for fifty? It would be so embarrassing.”

  “People will come,” Sarah said. “People always come for free food. And don’t we know everyone in Oakdale, anyway?”

  “Maybe you do.”

  “The original dinner club members are guaranteed to attend — that’s ten. Mo
re, if they bring dates. And the rest will follow. Don’t worry. The place will be packed in thirty minutes.”

  Sam came out of the kitchen with a tray full of glasses of champagne. “Hi, Danielle. Thanks for sending the flowers over. They’re beautiful.”

  “You’re welcome. Now tell me what I can do to help out.”

  “Nothing. This whole enterprise is about you not doing anything. And we’re totally under control, anyway. The waiters are pouring drinks in the kitchen, the cold platters are starting to come out, the hot food’s in the warming oven. So, I’d like to propose a toast.” He handed them each a glass. “To the Oakdale Dinner Club.”

  They all swallowed a mouthful of the wine.

  “To Sam having a bright idea,” Sarah said, “and making it happen, and hiring me to help run it!”

  “To hardly ever cooking again,” Danielle said.

  The bell over the shop door rang again and Hallie came in, greeting everyone. Sam went over, kissed her, and told her how good she looked. The bit of weight she’d put on in the last few months suited her. “How’d it go with the kids?”

  “They were a little reluctant to stay with the new babysitter, but she pulled her iPhone out of her purse and opened up a game, and that cheered them up. How’re things here?”

  A waiter emerged from the kitchen with another tray of glasses. “Champagne, madam?” he said to Hallie.

  “No thanks. But I’d love some mineral water when you have a chance.”

  The waiter set down his tray and headed back to the kitchen. “I’ll get you that right away.”

  Sam said, “So this is it. Here we go.”

  “It’s going to be a big success, Sam, I know it is.”

  “I think so, too. And you know what’s the strangest thing? In the middle of all the frantic preparations this afternoon, I had an idea for my novel.”

  “Today?”

  “I know. It was when the cooks were making the new samosas. They have a reddish cast to them because of the beets in the filling, and when I saw the first cooked one, it hit me. The secret of the ashram, the linchpin of the whole mystery just has to be —”