Chapter 5
Bill Diamond and his parents watched Taylor delicately lick the sides of the bowl Bill’s mother had set on the floor near the dining table.
“Poor little thing. She’s starving,” Mom said.
“Who, Taylor? She’s a beast, aren’cha, girl?” Bill said, reaching down to give her sturdy body a pat.
Mom was always overfeeding everyone. One glance at her whale of a Persian would tell you that.
Bill himself had been a stocky teenager till he turned twenty-one, moved into his own place six blocks away, and joined the gym. That was eight years and twenty pounds ago. These days he only succumbed to Mom’s ritual force-feedings occasionally.
“Give her another little piece of meat,” said his dad, nodding to Taylor’s bowl, and Mom wasted no time complying. “How long do you have her?”
“Don’t know. I’ll find out more when I call Sake later on.”
“What kind of a name is Sake?” Mom kvetched.
“All the SPs have wine-related names. You know that. I’m guessing Sake’s mom must be Japanese.”
“How do you get yourself mixed up with these kinds of people, William?”
“How else? Everyone wants him. He’s a mensch,” said Dad without looking up from his plate.
“First it was that slutty Sylvia Goldsmith back in high school, then Brittany, then crazy Dynise, with the eating disorder.”
Mom’s borderline invasive ways had clashed big time with the last girl he’d brought to dinner. Dynise had asked about the ingredients in all the dishes Mom had set on the table.
“That girl was so skinny she could have hula hooped with a Cheerio. Now you’ve somehow got yourself all tangled up with the surprise love child of Xavier St. Pierre.”
Unperturbed, Bill scooped up a second helping of roasted vegetables from the serving dish in the middle of the table.
“There’s more in the pan on the stove,” said Mom.
“Could you pass the salt, Dad? Dynise didn’t have an eating disorder. She was just vegetarian,” said Bill, sprinkling his carrots. But ultimately there had been something about Dynise he couldn’t live with . . . something that would have freaked Mom out more than just someone shunning her brisket. And that was that Dynise spent every free minute working on her Wiccan blog.
Behold: you didn’t have to be one of the Chosen People to date Bill Diamond. Call him prejudiced. It’s not that he hated witches. He just didn’t want one to be the mother of his children.
“How is Sake, after the accident? It was on the local news last night. David, pull it up for him.”
“Don’t get up, Dad,” said Bill, scraping his own chair back to get his phone. He wouldn’t mind reading for himself the secondhand version of Sake that the town folk were getting.
The Napa County Sherriff’s office is investigating why a BO-105 helicopter crash-landed in fair weather just short of the landing pad at a Napa Valley winery last Saturday.
The chopper, piloted by prominent vintner Xavier St. Pierre, took off from San Francisco International Airport with one passenger, Sake, the youngest of his four daughters. They were headed for the Napa wedding of St. Pierre’s eldest child, attorney Sauvignon. But something went wrong on approach, and the chopper landed hard, snapping off its right skid.
Ms. St. Pierre was taken to Queen of the Valley Medical Center by private transport and released the following day. Mr. St. Pierre refused treatment, claiming he was not injured.
Bill returned to the table. “Sake’s fine. And I’m not ‘tangled up’ with her, not in any way, shape, or form. I’m just doing her a favor.”
“That’s how it all starts. Trust me, that’s how I met your father. We were in Encino, in nineteen—”
“Rachel! Spare us—he’s heard it a thousand times,” groaned Dad, reaching to drop yet another scrap of fat into Taylor’s dish.
“All I’m saying is it’s beyond me how you ended up being closer than roaches on a Bacon Bit with all those wine heiresses. Chardonnay, Merlot, now Sake. If they weren’t already famous, people would never believe me when I tell them about—”
“So then, don’t tell them!” said Dad. “D’you ever think of that?”
Bill sighed. “Chardonnay and Merlot St. Pierre are clients, Mom, just clients. We have a professional relationship. I helped Char get her building for her children’s charity, and I found Meri a jewelry workshop. That’s it.”
His watch said it was time to go. He left a small quantity of food on his plate, just as his trainer down at the gym had instructed him to do, folded his napkin, and scraped back his chair. “Thanks for dinner, Mom.”
“But what about pie?” She put on her best guilt-inducing face. “Strawberry, your favorite. Got them fresh yesterday from Mrs. Morales down at the market.”
“Told the guys I’d hit some balls with them before I take Sake’s dog back.”
“Wait, I’ll wrap up a piece for you to take with. And some more meat for the puppy. Look at her, she’s practically wasting away to nothing.”