Page 36 of One Moment in Time
The waitress reappeared with their drinks, and Zara threw at least an inch of it back in one go.
Millie watched her, eyes wide. ‘Yep, I definitely like you better than my other sister called Zara.’
‘Don’t judge me,’ Zara warned. ‘I’m feeling highly thrown by this whole bloody thing. I mean… I don’t know where to start, really.’
‘The cardigan. Let’s start with the cardigan,’ Millie suggested. ‘And yes, I know that’s shallow, so you can judge me all you want.’
Zara would usually give Millie the ‘don’t form judgements about people because you don’t know what they’re dealing with in life’ speech, but that didn’t necessarily apply here, because the only thing that her parents were dealing with was an all-expenses trip to Las Vegas.
Yet her mum had celebrated that fact by showing up at the restaurant in the kind of cardigan she’d wear to walk the dog. If they actually still had a dog, that was. Their beloved old golden retriever had passed away about five years ago. Maybe Mum had been saving that cardi since then.
‘I mean, in fairness we didn’t tell her exactly where we were going before we left home this morning. Was it only this morning? It feels like a week ago. Thing is, though, she knew it was somewhere nice and I did emphasise the glam nights, but it’s like she absolutely doesn’t care.’
‘Would a bit of lippy have killed her? Or, you know, a brush.’
Zara ignored that, naturally resistant to criticise any woman on the basis of her appearance, even if Millie was right. However, that wasn’t even close to being the strangest thing about the night. That acclaim was awarded to both parents, for their performances as a couple who pretty much couldn’t stand the sight of each other. When had that happened? True, it was a couple of months since they’d all sat down for a family dinner, but the change was so palpable that only three possible explanations came to mind. Either they’d been pretending that everything was fine back then, or they’d had a huge fight today, or…
‘Do you think Mum has discovered Dad is, like, a serial killer or something?’ Millie adjusted the neckline in her pink, off-the-shoulder minidress.
‘It wasn’t my first thought, but you might have something there. I just feel like…’ Zara paused to try to put it into words. ‘This isn’t turning out how I thought it would so far. I honestly expected Mum to be thrilled and excited. I thought we’d blow her socks off, but I’ve never seen her so absolutely fed up. Am I overreacting? And, yes, I get the irony of asking you that question, given that you haven’tunder-reacted to anything since we were in primary school.’
Even as she asked, Zara knew that she wasn’t imagining anything. Her mum really had come down for dinner in PF Chang’s, the Asian restaurant on the ground floor of Planet Hollywood, in trousers and a cardi. She really had struggled to raise a smile. Her eyes had been red-rimmed and she had played with her food but not eaten more than a couple of mouthfuls. She’d barely said anything despite both Millie and Zara trying to start a dozen conversations. And for the first time in living memory, she hadn’t so much as glanced at their father from the minute they got there until the minute she said she was tired, excused herself and went back up to bed, leaving Dad to throw back what was left of his beef and broccoli and follow her ten minutes later. It was bizarre. Their parents never fought. They never acted strangely. If Mum was ever upset with Dad, she never showed it. She was always just… well, Mum. Happy. Calm. Reliable. Dependable. Mum.
Zara didn’t have time to ponder it further, because she heard a low murmur of, ‘Holy crap, is that him?’ from her sister.
Looking up, she saw that her sister’s powers of observation had been, as always, spot on.
It was indeed Aiden Gregg and the hint of surprise in Millie’s tone was warranted. They’d had a couple of FaceTime calls, so they both knew what he looked like – dark hair, green eyes, that all-American, preppy thing going on, which had to be an environmental influence because both his parents were very definitely Scottish. However, it was something else seeing him in person. Zara hadn’t realised he was this tall, for a start. Well over six feet. And his shoulders were the width of a skip. He was just wearing black jeans and a V-neck T-shirt, but he had a walk that oozed confidence and, now that he had spotted them, a smile that it was way too easy to stare at.
The waitress clearly thought so too. She was already back at their side to take his order of a Jack Daniel’s and Coke. They’d exchanged pleasantries by the time she returned with that, and two fresh cocktails for Zara and Millie. Zara couldn’t even remember what was in it, but it was obviously really potent stuff because she was already beginning to feel a bit giddy.
‘We can’t thank you enough for doing this,’ she told Aiden, as she lifted her drink and somehow managed to miss her mouth. Wow. It was even stronger than she thought. A few drops spilled in her lap and she casually brushed them away, hoping it wasn’t too obvious.
‘It’s no problem, it really isn’t. In fact, I think I need to thank you guys. Tonight was the first time since I was in college that I’ve managed to get my parents at the same dinner table. I chose Chinese so there would be no sharp knives on the table, but they actually got on pretty well.’
‘We had Chinese food too, but it wasn’t as chipper.’ Zara clamped her mouth shut, horrified that she’d admitted that to a virtual stranger, then fumbled for an excuse. ‘I think our parents are just jet lagged, though. Anyway, back to your mum and dad. So they didn’t stay friends after the divorce?’
Aiden shook his head. ‘I wish. Those guys are the worst advert for my practise. I spend all day every day preaching to my clients that they should try to keep things amicable and move on in a positive way, while my mom and dad can’t stand the sight of each other. Seriously, tonight was like a miracle.’
Zara reconsidered sharing more about how they’d had the opposite experience, but it still didn’t feel right to discuss her mum and dad’s private business with someone they barely knew, even one that had flown thousands of miles to meet them here. Instead they spent the next couple of hours swapping stories, comparing notes about their very different childhoods. ‘I can’t believe you don’t actually own a puffer jacket,’ Zara told him at one point. ‘I think that means you can’t claim Scottish heritage, no matter what your DNA says.’
Every time he laughed, she saw the perfection of his white smile. This man was clearly no stranger to an orthodontist.
‘Have your parents ever mentioned ours, or talked about how they were all here together?’ Zara asked him.
He shook his head. ‘Never. But then, I guess it was a long time ago. My dad has been here for a couple of conferences over the years, but I didn’t even know that my mum had ever been to Vegas. I hadn’t really thought about it much before, but now I’ve realised that I can’t remember her ever talking much about her past. I know she has no family left in Scotland, but I never figured to ask about friends.’
‘Yep, our mum kept this all pretty close to her chest too. I can’t imagine her being here, never mind getting married here. She’s more of a “morning service in a country church” kind of person. I honestly struggle to accept that we’re related sometimes,’ Millie smiled, leaning forward in her chair.
Zara could see the signs. Millie was tucking her hair behind her ears, keeping eye contact with Aiden, throwing out all her best lines to make him laugh. Oh, she was definitely smitten. This poor guy had no idea what he was in for, but she wasn’t going to third wheel them any longer. Time to go. She needed sleep and maybe Kev would answer her this time when she called him. And no, she wasn’t going to contrast Millie’s existence, sitting in a five-star hotel in Vegas, flirting with an absolutely gorgeous man, who was interesting, charming and great company, to the fact that Kev had worn the same old jeans for the last fortnight and they’d spent an hour last weekend debating whether to risk a microwave chicken meal that was a day out of date, or go for the deluxe option and toss a deep pan margherita into the oven.
She did that stretch-up-and-smile thing that people did when they were about to announce they were calling it a night. ‘Sorry to be such a lightweight, but I’m going to leave you two to it. I’ll just pay the bill and—’
‘No, let me get it. I insist.’
Zara hesitated at Aiden’s offer, then, ‘Okay, but we’re buying lunch tomorrow and don’t argue – jet leg could make me a total battleaxe and you wouldn’t win.’
Laughing, Aiden immediately interjected with, ‘I wouldn’t dare. At least let us walk you back to your hotel.’
