Part 16 (1/2)
”Oh, h.e.l.l no,” Jake said.
”C'mon,” Wally said. ”You'll look totally hot. ...”
”No f.u.c.king way-”
”Oh my G.o.d, Jake!” Ella objected. ”Put it on, right now. I don't wanna see that varsity jacket at our fancy table.”
Jake remained indignant but caved in to Ella's command. As Jake put on his jacket, Ella took a couple of the varsity pins off his letterman jacket and attached them on the lapel of his new blazer.
”That actually works,” Wally said.
Jake looked at himself in the mirror. ”It does, doesn't it?”
The crew hoofed it to the subway stop and caught the B train south, toward SoHo. Wally had called around the good restaurants in that part of town the night before, and she'd been lucky: Balthazar had a cancellation on a table for four at three o'clock.
”Do we need, like, special manners for this place?” Ella asked as they walked.
”Nope,” Wally said. ”You know how to eat, right?”
”I do.”
”Besides,” Wally said, ”you and I are ravis.h.i.+ng, and our men are breathtakingly handsome. Our biggest problem will be the envy we inspire in those less fortunate than ourselves.”
They found Balthazar on Spring Street and-just as Wally predicted-there were no ha.s.sles. The maitre d' did give them a halfway curious look, but that probably had more to do with their age than anything. Style-wise, the fas.h.i.+on-forward crew fit in nicely with the upscale, quasi-bohemian crowd in the busy restaurant. The only hiccup came with Ella's first reading of the menu.
”Uh, where's the turkey and stuffing?”
”This is a bistro,” Wally said. ”French style. But look toward the bottom of the second page: turkey leg confit.”
”What's that?” Tevin asked.
”It'll be yum, I promise.”
And Wally was right. The turkey was ”insanely tasty,” according to Ella, delivered to their table with deference and efficiency by a flock of hovering waiters who never even let a water gla.s.s dip below half full.
”Best Thanksgiving turkey ever,” Jake said as he wolfed down the huge leg on his plate, with in-between bites of fried herb potatoes and wild mushroom saute.
”Yeah, by far,” agreed Tevin. ”Like, another-planet far.”
Most of the other guests in the cafe were youngish, upwardly mobile types, with only a couple of real families dining together. The parents of those families barely noticed Wally and her crew at all, but their children were fascinated. Obviously jealous, they stole sideways glances at the four teenagers and fantasized about a world devoid of embarra.s.sing parents, itchy sweaters, and flatulent great-aunts with untrimmed whiskers. Ella was the first of the crew who noticed this attention, so of course she gave the kids furtive waves and sympathetic smiles.
Wally felt good for the first time in days. Seeing the delighted faces of her friends as they ate and laughed, their faces glowing in the candlelight as they toasted each other with winegla.s.ses full of sparkling water, Wally knew she had done the right thing in bringing them here. And something else, the warm feeling at their table-and in the room-gave her kind of a flashback to an earlier time. A bittersweet memory.
Tevin noticed that something was on Wally's mind.
”What?”
”I don't know,” she said. ”I was just reminded. One of the last dinners I had with my folks, before they split, was Thanksgiving out. Sort of like this.”
”Wally-” Ella wanted to console her.
”No, it was good. Really. Maybe the last nice time we had together.” She looked at the others with a warm smile. ”We're having a nice time too, and that's how I'm reminded. Thanksgiving dinner with two happy families, both of them mine.”
They toasted each other again, just as their waiter arrived with a dessert cart full of the most indulgent pastries any of them had ever seen. Wally again observed the looks of wonder on their faces, but now focused especially on Tevin. He was as thrilled as the others with the sight of the treats, but Tevin observed the desserts as if through the window of an elegant shop that he was forbidden to enter, as if these special things were there for him to witness but not taste for himself. Even as he was deciding which pastry to order, Tevin looked as though he was doing something that he would later be punished for.
Wally's heart broke a little at the sight of this.
”You know what?” Wally said. ”Let's hold off on dessert. We can do better.”
The others gave her skeptical looks.
”Better than this?” Ella said, crushed that she would not be tasting the towering, gleaming wedge of lemon meringue pie that she had already selected.
Wally just nodded, confidently, and looked to the waiter. ”We'd like the check, please.”
The crew followed Wally out of the bistro, obviously curious about what she was up to.
”What's on your mind, Wally?” Tevin said.
She took out her smart phone and did a local map search, coming up with a place called 60 Thompson, described as a ”chic boutique hotel that brilliantly reflects the refined, artistic sensibility of SoHo.” There were several dollar signs attached to the review, meaning it was expensive even by Manhattan standards. Wally enjoyed keeping her friends in suspense as she led them the few blocks to Thompson Street and in through the front door of the hotel.
The lobby was hushed and stylish in a restrained way, lit to a sort of muted glow that gave the place an intimate feel. Wally felt a rush of guilty excitement as she stepped up to the front desk and placed a credit card on the counter. It was a Platinum American Express card with her name on it, given to her by Claire ”in case of an emergency.” Wally had never used the card and was determined that she never would, but at that moment she felt driven by an irresistible compulsion.
A young woman with beautiful, dark skin-Indian, Wally thought-attractive in a well-tailored dark blue suit stood behind the counter. The name tag on her lapel read Chantra. She leaned over and examined the credit card without touching it, then stood back and took a long look at Wally and the crew, clearly trying to reconcile what she perceived as a mixed message.
”Yes, ma'am?” she said to Wally.
Wally pulled out her good fake ID and set it next to the AmEx card.
”We'd like a suite,” Wally said casually, ”if one is available.”
Chantra arched one eyebrow. She took another look at the crew and another look at Wally's cards. Finally she picked up the Platinum card and moved toward a back office.
”Just one moment, please,” she said with an enigmatic smile. She disappeared into the back office for a moment but returned promptly, still holding on to the AmEx card.
”What type of suite do you require, Ms. Stoneman?”
”Two bedrooms, please.”
”Yes, very good. We have a two-bedroom suite on the 16th floor with an excellent perspective of the park,” Chantra said. She placed a price sheet on the counter for perusal, but Wally did not look at it.
”I'm sure it will be fine,” Wally said.
Through all this, the crew stood behind Wally, biting their tongues, determined not to break whatever insanely reckless and generous spell their leader was under.
”Excellent,” Chantra said, sweeping the price sheet out of view and setting the paperwork into motion.