Page 97 of Tattered (Lark Cove 1)

“What is this?” Thea asked him as he set down the plate in front of her first.

“Poached shrimp, melon and

frisée salad.” He moved to set down Charlie’s, but Thea grabbed it first.

“What?” I asked.

“She’s allergic to shellfish.” She pushed the dish back at the waiter. “I’m sorry, she can’t eat that. Do you have french fries?”

The waiter’s eyes bulged, but before he said anything, he remembered his place and looked to me. “I’ll discuss it with the chef.”

He served my salad and rushed away from the table while I made a mental note to discuss Charlie’s diet. How did I not know my daughter was allergic to shellfish? It was another reminder of how much I still had to learn about my child and how much easier that would be if we lived in the same state.

“I’m hungry, Mommy.”

Thea gave her a sympathetic smile. “I know, honey. Here.” She picked up Charlie’s chocolate milk. “Drink more of your milk.”

“It tastes funny.”

“Let me see.” Thea took a small sip and frowned. “It’s just because they used real cocoa.” She forced a smile, trying to make it seem exciting. “It’s fancy. Try a little more. I bet you’ll like it.”

Charlie’s shoulders fell as she shook her head. “No, thanks.”

The silence resumed.

I looked across the table to Thea, who mouthed, Sorry.

It’s fine, I mouthed back.

It didn’t take the waiter long to come back to the table with a small plate of fries.

Charlie raised her chin, hopeful at first, but when she saw they were covered in garlic, parsley and parmesan, her eyes filled with tears.

“Just try one,” Thea urged. “Let’s all try one.”

Thea and I both took a fry off Charlie’s plate, eating them quickly. They were marginal at best; french fries weren’t the chef’s specialty.

“Okay.” Thea chased her bite down with a sip of wine. “Let’s just wait until the next course. I’m sure you’ll really like it.”

“You know what?” I whipped the napkin off my lap and set it on my salad. “Let’s just go.”

“No, Logan.” Thea held out her hand. “It will be fine.”

I stood and pulled back Charlie’s chair. “We can do better than eating here, can’t we?”

“Yeah,” she slid off the chair. “This place is yucky.”

At that exact moment, the waiter returned. His gasp echoed through the room.

Thea coughed, trying to cover up her laugh as she stood and set her napkin on the table. “She’s only six. Too young to appreciate gourmet.”

When the waiter’s shocked look turned sour, it was my turn to hold back a laugh.

“Please send my regards to David.” I took my wallet out of my jacket, dropping three hundred-dollar bills on the table. “The food and wine can go on my tab. That is for your trouble.” Then with Charlie’s hand in mine, I walked us out of the restaurant.

When we hit the sidewalk, Thea started laughing. It began as a small giggle but turned into a belly laugh. A smile spread across my face when Charlie joined in too, and after a moment, the three of us were howling.

“What are we doing for dinner?” I asked as my laughter died down. “Because I obviously can’t be trusted to choose.”