“Of course it’s fine,” her father said, drumming his fingers on the table.
“Come on—isn’t there something else we can talk about? This is supposed to be a happy occasion,” Marin said, smiling, hoping to lighten the mood.
Her parents exchanged an odd glance. If she wasn’t mistaken, her mother shook her head at Marin’s father, ever so slightly.
“What’s going on?” Marin said.
“Absolutely nothing,” said her mom. Too quickly.
A silence settled over the table, mercifully broken when the waiter came to take their dinner orders. The atmosphere at the table finally turned positive when her father asked her about her law firm’s newest client, a high-profile personal-genetics company.
Marin beamed. “I can’t really say that much about the merger in the works but it’s a big step for me to be put on the case. I mean, I’m pretty low on the totem pole, but still…”
Kip nodded, gently shaking his glass so the ice clinked together. “You have to walk before you can run. Just keep your head down, work hard, play the game, and you’ll get there.”
They both knew what he meant by there. Partner at the most prestigious law firm in New York City. Or maybe the head of her own firm, like the one her father had founded in 1982 in Philadelphia, where Kipton Bishop was arguably the most powerful attorney in the city. And at the age of sixty, he showed no signs of slowing down. It was actually surprising that he’d made it to her birthday dinner. After a lifetime of seeing him work eighteen-hour days and travel the globe, she was used to it being just her mother and herself more often than not. Honestly, she didn’t know how her mother had done it all of those years, staying at home, tending to the house and her vegetable garden. Waiting for her father’s rare appearances. Marin shuddered. For as long as she could remember, she’d always been very aware of the fact that she never wanted to be the one left behind.
Throughout dinner, under the table, Marin checked her phone. She appreciated her parents driving up to Manhattan to celebrate with her, she really did. But the evening was dragging.
Finally, the text she’d been waiting for arrived.
Sure, come on over.
The waiter approached with a large cake covered with extravagant shavings of white chocolate. It was lit with a single candle.
Please don’t sing. But no, it wasn’t that type of place. The waiter placed the cake in front of her, and her mother reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” She sounded so forlorn, it was as if her own engagement had been broken off.
Marin closed her eyes, blew out the candle, and thought of the person waiting for her on the other side of the city.
“To many more,” chimed in her father, finishing his drink.
The waiter sliced the cake and served them each a piece. “So what does Greg think of all this? He’s just accepted it?” her mother blurted out. Marin had to give her credit—she’d held out until dessert.
“Blythe, don’t push,” her father said, ignoring the plate in front of him while Marin ate half her slice in two big bites. With her mouth full, she couldn’t be expected to talk.
“It’s a natural question, Kip. I mean, two years, planning a life together…that doesn’t just evaporate.” Her mother patted her ash-blond hair as if the mere thought of such chaos had set it askew. “Are you sure about this? I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”
Marin nodded. Yes, she was sure. You didn’t break up with a man like Greg Harper on a whim.
“Thanks so much for dinner. Really. I miss you guys,” Marin said, reflexively checking her phone again.
“You’re not running off, are you?” her mother said.
“Let her be, Blythe. Knowing Marin, she’s probably going home to burn the midnight oil.” He gave her a conspiratorial wink.
“Well, she needs to learn how to relax. Honestly, Marin. Your priorities—”
“Are exactly where they should be,” said her father.
“It’s just been a long week,” Marin said. “And I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.”
Again, her parents exchanged that strange look.
Marin kissed them both good night.
Outside, she took in the warm spring air before hailing a cab. It felt like the first time she’d breathed all night.
Blythe Bishop shuddered in the freezing lobby of the Plaza Hotel.
Breakups happen. That’s all her daughter had to say on the topic? Oh, what was she thinking? Blythe wrapped her arms around herself, trying to take comfort in her elegant surroundings.
Yes, breakups did happen. But yesterday, Marin had had a three-carat diamond on her left ring finger, a deposit on a wedding venue, and plans to go dress shopping with her mother next week. Now what? All that was just…gone?
Marin was too career-obsessed. That was the problem.
Thirty and single. Oh, Blythe knew it was old-fashioned to see that as a bad thing. But most of Marin’s friends on the Main Line were already married, living in big, beautiful homes in Penn Valley, having their first babies, with the days of office hours and career stress long behind them. Was it so wrong to want that for her own daughter?
“You need to give Marin more credit,” said Kip. “She’s the captain of her own ship.”
“I just wish she’d open up more about what happened with Greg. Even though she’s the one who ended it, it still can’t be easy. They ordered the invitations.”
“It’s not really our business,” Kip said, walking briskly to the elevator. She followed him inside, and each pressed a button.
“Well, as we’re her parents, it actually is our business.” After thirty-two years, she still didn’t understand half the things that came out of that man’s mouth.
“Marin had the balls to end it because she knew it wasn’t right for her. She’s a tough cookie,” Like me, she knew he was thinking. Also, And unlike you.
“I’m afraid she’s going to end up alone,” said Blythe.
“Well, maybe that’s what she wants. It’s her life.”
The door slid open on eight, Kip’s floor.
“This is so strange,” she said, following him uninvited out of the elevator. “Kip, this doesn’t feel right.”
Standing in the quiet hallway, she blinked back tears.
Kip scratched his jaw with his room key card. He looked uncharacteristically tired.
“No more stalling, Blythe. We have to tell her.”
“This just isn’t the best time to—”
Kip held up his hand as if halting traffic. “Stop. I don’t want to hear it. This breakup with Greg doesn’t change anything. Tomorrow at breakfast, we’re telling her.”
With that, Kip summoned the elevator for her. Case closed.
Chapter Two