S Is for Silence

doesn’t go to your personal church and worship your personal deity is some kind of heathen? Livia, you can’t be that idiotic.”
    He could tell she was offended, but he really didn’t care. Cheeks stained with indignation, she snapped his dinner plate on the table in front of him with a force that nearly cracked it in two. He looked down at the meal, which consisted of a main dish and a side of cabbage that had boiled so long all the color had cooked out. He pointed to the entrée. “What’s this?”
    Livia sat down and arranged her napkin in her lap. “We’re having International Night. The first Friday of every month. Kathy prepared the dish and I think it’s lovely.”
    “It’s Welch Rabbit,” Kathy said, happily, already lifting a fully loaded fork to her lips.
    “Welch? There’s no such place as Welch. Are you out of your minds? This isn’t rabbit. It’s cheese goo on toast.”
    “Would you sample a bite before you judge, or is that too much to ask after Kathy’s worked so hard?”
    “This is shit! I can’t work a full day and sit down to a meal like this. There’s no meat.”
    “Please watch your language. There’s a young lady present.”
    He pushed his plate back. “Excuse me.” He left the table and went into the downstairs powder room, where he pulled out his flask and downed the remaining vodka in six swallows. It wasn’t nearly enough, but maybe he’d managed to survive the next fifteen minutes without going berserk.
    He returned to the table and began to eat, trying to imagine how normal men behaved. Husbands all over America must be sitting down to dinners just like this, with wives and daughters like the two he faced. How did they do it? Making small talk? He could do that. Clearly there was no point discussing world peace. He glanced at Kathy, not looking too closely as she tended to chew with her mouth open. He said, “I saw your friend today.”
    “Who?”
    “Liza.”
    “Oh.” She was so intent on stuffing her face, he wondered if she’d heard.
    “Whatever happened to her?”
    Kathy flicked him a look. “Nothing. Why’d you say that?”
    “Six months ago the two of you were like Siamese twins, joined at the hip. She dump you or what?”
    “No, Dad. She didn’t dump me.”
    “Then how come you don’t see each other anymore?”
    “We do. All the time. She was busy today. Is that against the law?”
    “She didn’t look that busy to me. Unless a fancy lunch downtown counts.”
    “Liza didn’t have lunch downtown.”
    “I thought today was her birthday. Didn’t you say something to that effect here at dinner last night?”
    “So?”
    “So nothing. I thought she’d be spending the whole day with you.”
    “We talked on the phone. She said her mother’s been sick and might even be contagious or she’d have come right over to celebrate.”
    “Ohhh,” he said, drawing the word out. “Well, maybe that explains it.”
    “Explains what?”
    “What she was doing all dressed up with Violet Sullivan. The two had their heads bent together over shrimp cocktails.”
    Kathy put her fork down and stared. “They did not. ”
    “Yes, they did. Uh-hum. Yes, indeedy.”
    “Where?”
    “The Savoy Hotel. The tea room’s on the ground floor. I saw ’em through the window.”
    Livia said, “Chet.”
    “Very funny. Ha ha. And where’s Daisy all this time? Did you forget about her?”
    “She was sitting right there with a big bowl of buttered noodles she was slurping through her lips.”
    “You’re just saying that to bug me because you’re in a bad mood. Liza might have gone out, but it had nothing to do with Mrs. Sullivan.”
    “Why don’t you ask her and see what she says?”
    “Chet, that’s enough.”
    “I can’t call her again. I just talked to her. She’s taking care of her mother, who’s extremely ill.”
    “Okay. Fine. If that’s the way you want to play it. I’d feel bad if things went sour between the two of you. That’s my only concern.”
    Kathy retreated into silence. Meanwhile, Livia sent him dark, meaningful looks that suggested a serious dressing-down to come. Chet didn’t intend to stick around for that. He wiped his mouth on his napkin and tossed it on his plate. He got up, working to control the urge to run. He could feel the spite rising in his chest. What the hell was wrong with him? He was never going to get back at Violet by making trouble somewhere else. Why put his daughter at odds with her best friend? The pettiness