Chapter 50 - Nadia

I ran out of the bar and down the street while frantically trying to find Braden’s name in my contact list. He picked up immediately.
“Nadia! What—”
“I’m sorry!” I interrupted while shoving through pedestrians. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m on my way, please tell them to wait! I’m coming!”
I hung up because I couldn’t bear to hear his disappointment. I just needed to get to the restaurant, and then everything would be okay.
I stopped when I realized I was going the wrong way to the train station. I turned around and backtracked through all the people I had shoved out of the way, then sprinted when I had gaps in the crowds.
When I reached the station, I stared at the map. I was a little tipsy, and struggled to think. Was it faster to take the 7-train and transfer to the 6-train, or hop on the Q-train the whole way? I chose the latter since it required fewer steps, scanned my pass at the turnstiles, and sprinted through the station like a murderer was chasing me.
Once I was on the train, there was nothing for me to do but wait. So I read the missed text messages from Braden and cringed.

Braden: Hey, I got here before them. We’ve got a table in the front room. You can’t miss it! See you soon.
Braden: Mom and dad just got here, but they’re early too. You on your way?
Braden: Hey, you’re not answering your phone. Hope that’s because you’re on the train. Don’t feel bad about being too late—the theater accident makes for a great excuse
Braden: Starting to get worried. Andy said he last saw you at the theater. Call me when you get this.
Braden: I gave my parents a story about Atkins and the reporter needing to speak with you after the rehearsal. So play along with that if my parents ask.

Those texts were 25 minutes ago. I was much later now. While the train slowly rumbled north, I composed and then deleted a dozen different text messages back to Braden. None felt adequate.
I would just have to make it up with my dazzling personality. Being late wouldn’t matter if I won his parents over during dinner. They would understand.
I was 40 minutes late by the time I arrived at the restaurant. The valet opened the door for me—while giving me a look—but I rushed right inside.
The lights were dim in the evening, and soft piano music played from a distant corner over the din of conversation and silverware clattering on plates. He said he’s in the front room, can’t miss him. The hostess held out a hand but I ignored her and walked into the room.
I found Braden almost instantly, at a table in the middle. His parents were still there. That made me breathe a sigh of relief. Braden jumped up from his seat and met me halfway.
“I’m so sorry—” I began.
“You didn’t change?” he asked. “I told you to bring a change of clothes to rehearsal.”
I realized I was still wearing my tight yoga pants and a t-shirt from rehearsal. Everyone else in the restaurant was dressed nicely, and more than a few glances were sent my way.
“I forgot…”
The hostess caught up to us and cleared her throat. “Excuse me, ma’am, but we have a dress code…”
Braden smiled his winning smile. “It’s fine, Lisa. She’s with us.”
There was a flicker of hesitation behind the hostess’s eyes as she made a decision. “Of course, Mr. Williams,” she eventually said.
Braden put a hand on my back and led me to their table. Two empty baskets of bread were on the table, with nothing but crumbs remaining, and four glasses of red wine and an empty bottle.
“Mom, dad, this is my girlfriend Nadia.”
Braden’s dad rose first and smiled widely at me. “Call me Tony.” He had a round face that looked like it was used to smiling. A happier, plumper, and balder version of Braden with kindness in his eyes.
I shook his hand and turned to Braden’s mom, who didn’t rise to greet me. She looked unhappy, and had one of those familiar faces and a hideous perm that was 30 years old of fashion.
“I’m Mrs. Williams,” she said from her seat. “Nice to meet you.”
I smiled awkwardly and sat down. At least neither of them commented on my clothes.
“You have no idea how wonderful it is to finally meet you,” Tony said warmly.
“You too. And I’m so sorry for being late! There was an accident at the theater.”
“Braden was telling us about that!” Tony replied. “An actress was injured?”
“Fell through a trapdoor,” I confirmed.
A waiter brought a fresh basket of bread. “Would you like me to open another bottle of Camus, Mr. Williams?” he asked.
Mrs. Williams finished the rest of her wine. “Might as well since we finished the first bottle while waiting.”
Tony gave his wife a pointed look. “A trapdoor. That sounds terrible, Nadia.”
“It was.” I grabbed a piece of bread and bit into it. I was starving, and my tequila-filled stomach was screaming for solid food. “But it’s actually good for me, in a morbid way. I’m her understudy. Not that I was wishing for this, but hey, a break is a break.”
My comment was met with stares.
“But it’s terrible what happened,” I added. “It could have happened to any of us.”
Braden cleared his throat. “Nadia is a wonderful actress. Assuming the worst for Tatiana, she’s going to really shine in the lead role.”
“So you two will be working even more closely together?” Mrs. Williams asked. “In my experience, couples should never work together.”
Tony made a noise. “When have we worked together, honey?”
“Who says it was you?” Mrs. Williams gave me a wink. Happy to have any sort of connection to her, I grinned back.
“Who, then?” Tony asked.
She shrugged. “I’m just saying, I’ve heard things about this. First you’re working together, then you’re living together, then before you know it you can’t stand each other.”
Tony put his arm around his wife and smiled sweetly. “I can still stand you after 30 years. Maybe even 30 more, God-willing.”
“Not if we worked together!”
“Don’t worry about Braden and me,” I said as the waiter opened a second bottle of wine and began refilling glasses. “We’ve only lived together a couple of weeks, but we get along very well. Except when Braden puts empty milk cartons back in the fridge.”
Tony’s smile flickered. Mrs. Williams blinked.
I realized what I’d said a heart beat later.
Shit.
“You two are living together?” Mrs. Williams asked.
Braden gave me a look: why did you have to say that? “I was going to wait to tell you guys…”
“You don’t think that’s a little soon?” Tony asked.
“It was my fault,” I said. I’d screwed up our backstory, so I needed to fix it. “Braden wanted to wait, but I had a terrible roommate situation in Queens. So he swept me off my feet.”
“I see,” Tony said.
Mrs. Williams was staring intently at me. I steeled myself for whatever snide remark she was going to say, but instead she clapped her hands together. “I love it! Sometimes when you know, you know. Braden’s father and I moved in together after only two months, and we lied to our parents so they wouldn’t disown us!” She reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “What are your thoughts on children, Nadia?”
“Mom…” Braden complained.
We had planned on deflecting any questions about this—questions Braden knew would come up—but I was so desperate for their approval that I decided to go off-script. “I want three children. Two boys and a girl, ideally.”
Mrs. Williams squealed with excitement. “Two boys so they can play together, and a daughter to bond with.”
“Exactly!” I exclaimed.
Braden was tensing next to me, but I didn’t care. I was crushing this. All embarrassment about my wardrobe was now long gone.
The tequila was also beginning to kick in. I wolfed down another piece of bread as my head began to spin.
Keep it together. You’re doing great.
“What do you think of the show, Nadia?” Tony asked.
I shrugged deeply. “Before I criticize it, you didn’t write it, did you?”
Tony grinned and held up a hand. “I swear I haven’t. Give us your honest opinion.”
“It’s not great,” I admitted. “And that’s just the script. Throw in Tatiana the diva and a minuscule budget? It’s going to bomb.”
Braden’s parents made protesting noises. “I’m sure the two of you will raise it far above its potential.”
“We’ll do our best,” Braden said. “But there’s only so much lipstick you can put on a pig.”
I gave him a playful smack. “That’s not a nice thing to say about Tatiana!”
His parents laughed.
I’m crushing it. I didn’t consider myself the life of most parties, but I had an audience and I was feeling smooth.
“In all seriousness, Tatiana’s not ugly,” I said. “Far from it. She’s like Miss South Carolina. All beauty and no brains.”
Tony and his wife laughed even harder. I was in a groove.
“Thank God Braden’s more than just a pretty face.” I grabbed his jaw and gave him a kiss. Fire blossomed in my body at feeling his lips on mine, but it felt totally natural. “I only started dating him on account of how gorgeous he was, and lo and behold there’s brains and personality as a bonus!”
“He wasn’t always that way,” Mrs. Williams said while wiping tears from her eyes.
“Mom!”
“He was a late bloomer,” she said over his protests. “Thick glasses, acne, and greasy hair. And now look at him. Like the ugly duckling.”
Braden rolled his eyes and put his arm around me. “Next she’ll be showing you old photos of me.”
“I’ll save those for next time!”
“The show has deeper problems than that,” I said. It felt good to talk about my frustrations and roast the people we worked with. “The stage director isn’t the greatest in the world. Granted, our budget is so small that he’s doing all the work that should be done by choreographers and dance captains and singing instructors and musical directors, but he’s bad at it. He barely gives any feedback where it’s needed—and trust me, some of the other backup dancers need it.”
“But not you,” Tony said with a wink. “You’re perfect, right?”
I sat up straight and stuck my nose in the air. “I am flawless every single time. Ask Braden.”
They looked at Braden, who made a waffling noise. Then his parents erupted in laughter as I started smacking him playfully on the arm.
An obese Italian man came out of the kitchen with a plate of garlic knots for our table. “Tony! Martina! Braden! It is so good to see you!” He turned to me. “And you must be Braden’s beautiful girlfriend. I am Giuseppe, and the Williams family has been coming to my restaurant so long they helped put my twins through college!”
“He’s not joking,” Tony said, deadpan. “We’ve probably spent a fortune here over the years.”
“I’m sorry I’m under-dressed,” I said. “I came straight from the theater, and there was an accident, and…”
Giuseppe took my hand and enveloped it in both of his. “Nadia. There is no need to apologize. They are practically family, which makes you practically family. If anyone has a problem with your clothes, they are not welcome in my restaurant! I will kick them out at once!” He nodded past me. “I have known Braden since he was only the size of my leg. I am overjoyed to see that he has landed a beautiful woman.”
There was just enough emphasis on the word woman that I heard Braden groan next to me. I ignored him and beamed at the very large owner.
“I have interrupted your dinner enough,” Giuseppe said. “Please enjoy the food; it will be out shortly.”
I sat back down and sipped my wine, feeling smug. “He’s known you since you were the size of his leg, huh? His legs are about 200 each, so you’ve known him what, a week?”
I laughed at my own joke, but I was the only one. Braden’s parents smiled politely.
Maybe it was because I was already in a groove from roasting Braden and Tatiana and Atkins. The alcohol certainly contributed to it as well. But for some reason, I thought it was a good idea to keep talking about Giuseppe.
“They say never trust a skinny chef,” I said. “If the reverse is true, then I’d trust that man with my life.”
Braden reached under the table and squeezed my leg.
“Giuseppe is a good man,” Tony said diplomatically. “He came to this country with nothing. He’s the hardest working man I know, even after all his success. He could hire other chefs to work for him, but he insists on running the kitchen almost every night.”
The room swirled. I couldn’t help myself. The words slipped right out of my mouth.
“Closer to the pantry that way.”
Mrs. Williams squinted at me. “Are you drunk?”
“Of course not,” I quickly said. “I’ve only had half a glass of wine.” A distant part of my brain knew I was being defensive, but I was powerless to stop myself. “Are you drunk, Mrs. Williams?”
I sipped more of my wine defiantly. Braden leaned in close and said, “Take it easy.”
“I’m fine,” I snapped. “I was just making a joke.”
“It is not a big deal,” Tony said with a warm smile. “It was only lighthearted banter. I’m sure you meant no harm.”
“No harm at all,” I agreed. “He seems like a delightful man.”
“He really is,” Mrs. Williams said.
“I didn’t mean to sound rude,” I said. “I used to work at a department store in Queens. I was always given the shoe section, which is good because of the commission but bad because I had to deal with people who refused to accept how fat their feet were. Customers would insist they wore a size five, so I’d go in the back and bring them a size five and of course it wouldn’t come close to fitting their feet…”
“Frederick’s!” Mrs. Williams suddenly said.
“That’s right,” I said. “Big place in Richmond Hill. But if you’re hoping for an employee discount, I don’t work there anymore. I got fired a month back for…”
I trailed off as I realized why Mrs. Williams looked familiar. And based on the look on her face, she’d recognized me too.
“Ah, fuck,” I said.
“You’re her,” Mrs. Williams said, a dark expression falling over her face. “You’re the girl who insulted me at the store. You called me a bitch.”