Ray serves waffles, pancakes and crispy bacon with a jug of Canadian maple syrup and a small white pitcher that turns out to have honey in it. He even has a dark navy and orange apron wrapped around him.
It's odd to see the man of the house cook and serve things. The last time I saw that was when I was eighteen and staying with my grandfather. When he wasn't busy painting he dabbled in Italian cuisine … and forced us to eat what he made, no matter how badly it turned out.
As for my parents … Dad couldn't find the kitchen in any of the fancy houses he's lived in-that's what the cook's for. Mom also acted as though she didn't know how to turn an oven on, even though I'm certain she didn't grow up in wealth. The only time I see people cook and serve food these days is when I happen to flip by Food Network.
Ava brings out a thermos of hot coffee, while Darcy cuts waffles into small pieces for Mia on a plastic plate. I remain standing, unsure what to do. Mia flutters her fat little fingers in my direction, and I waggle mine back at her.
Ray takes a seat at the head of the table, and his wife takes the place to his right. I pull out a chair to his left for Ava so I can sit next to her and as far away from her foster parents as possible. Of course, this arrangement leaves me sitting opposite the girl. She chortles in my direction, waving her plastic fork around. I give her a small smile, unsure precisely what's expected of me. Small children are not an area of expertise.
"Try the waffles," Ava whispers in my ear, dragging my attention from Mia. "Ray's a great cook. You won't be sorry."
I glance at her face, noting the smile. I take a small forkful of waffle and put it in my mouth. It's surprisingly good.
"How do you like it?" Darcy asks.
"Excellent," I say. "Better than anything I've ever had … and I've been to a lot of fancy places for breakfast."
Ray beams. "Waffles. The love of my life."
"Other than golf," Darcy says. "If Ray could make waffles with a four-iron, he'd expire from joy."
Darcy, Ray and Ava laugh. I watch them with a small smile, glad that this is what Ava had after she lost her parents.
Darcy and Ray ask Ava about her life in Japan. She answers in general strokes, until they ask about Bennie. She tells them about his love life troubles in detail, and how she wishes things would work out.
"He won't accept that he deserves better," Ava huffs. "It's so frustrating."
"He didn't have an easy childhood," Darcy says sympathetically.
"I know, but right in front of him-we're not talking hypotheticals here-he has this perfect man mooning over him. All he has to do is give in … just a little." Ava shakes her head.
"I hope you were able to talk some sense into him," Darcy says. "The boy could use a bit more."
"Speaking of which, what made you leave Osaka so suddenly?" Ray asks.
I tense. The truth would get me shot-or brained with one of Ray's golf clubs-but I don't want Ava to lie for me. Not to these wonderful people.
She takes a long, slow sip of coffee before responding. "The principal was never too fond of foreigners. And when she had a chance to get rid of the only gaijin teacher she had, she took it."
"Then who's going to teach English at her school?" Darcy asks.
Ava shrugs. "I don't know. Not my school anymore, so not my problem. I just feel bad for the students."
Sharp guilt over the fact that Ava is forced to lie to cover for what I did makes me fidget. I still would've found a way to bring her home, but I wish I could go back in time and spend more of my energy convincing her to quit on her own rather than forcing her into it. I was so focused on my goal that I didn't think about the consequences of putting my desire first.
Ava deftly steers the conversation to a few funny anecdotes about her friends in Osaka. I listen vaguely, while feeling Darcy and Ray's eyes on me every so often. Maybe it's just me, but their gazes seem full of judgment. Can foster parents see through bullshit from their kids too?
Darcy turns to me all of a sudden. "So Lucas, what do you do?"
The question is a little unusual for me. Most people in my circle ask about how my investments are doing, not about my job. "These days, I make speeches, mostly of inspirational variety, or I consult." Neither of which I've done much of recently since I've had very little drive. Nor do I particularly need the money. "And I have some investments. I've funded a few tech startups that look promising."
"I see. Your family seems to live quite a ways from Virginia, except for your father."
Wariness courses through me. The woman has done some homework, and most likely she found something she didn't like.