But no, maybe not. Maybe wait for dinner in the restaurant, have a glass of wine then, or two. Mr. Kechel would insist upon excellent wine, a treat for Juliana.

When Gordon excused himself to use the men’s room, Mr. Kechel shocked Juliana by laying his hand on her hand and pressing it firm against the tabletop. “How on earth did you meet my son, dear? You’re far too beautiful for him.”

Juliana laughed, blushing.

“You’re far too sexual for him.”

Wanting to yank her hand away from beneath the man’s hand but not wanting to offend him or draw attention to herself. The taciturn bartender, keeping an eye on their party, would notice.

“He’s a very lucky young man, my son. Oblivious as all hell.”

Juliana had no idea how to reply, though no reply would seem to mean acquiescence.

“You love him, eh? You’re sleeping with him? Since when?”

Juliana shook her head. This was going too far. Now she did extricate her hand from beneath his as he murmured an (insincere?) apology—“Hey, sorry. Didn’t mean to offend.”

Juliana, flush-cheeked, made no reply.

“Did I offend? That was not my intention.”

When Gordon returned, it was nearly eight thirty. The young couple had to convince Mr. Kechel that they should move into the dining room now, before the restaurant kitchen closed.

Mr. Kechel agreed, reluctantly. A waiter carried their drinks to a table in the adjoining room, as stately and dour as the Mon ey Bar had been raffish and rowdy.

“Okay, kids. Order anything you like on the menu, within reason. The old man’s paying the bill, right?”

Juliana ordered filet of sole, daintiest of white fishes. Mr. Kechel, “rare” plank steak, and Gordon a turkey platter with stuffing, mashed potatoes.

“More drinks, kids? No? Just me? Hey.”

At dinner it was decided, by Norman Kechel, that the three of them shop for a “suitable” engagement ring the next day. Of course, Norman would be paying for the ring.

“The least I can do, welcoming such a fresh-faced young woman into our family.”

Fresh-faced. These words seemed vaguely mocking, silly. Were not all faces of the living fresh?

Plans were imprecise and improbable, and Juliana was hardly surprised when in the morning a text came to her from Gordon; he wouldn’t have time that afternoon to look for a ring, they would have to postpone. Of course, it was a school day: Gordon had a three-hour graduate seminar in international finance that afternoon. Juliana had two classes, which she didn’t mind missing: art history and psychology, both lectures. No sooner had Juliana agreed to a postponement than she had a call from Norman Kechel, who informed her that their plans had not been postponed—“Not yours and mine.”

It would be a surprise for Gordon, Norman Kechel told her. Choosing a beautiful ring by themselves. Of course, Juliana would select the ring. He, the father of the groom, would merely purchase it.