The table seats a dozen, and I watch the two of them talk at the far end, only including me in bits and pieces of conversation. Clifton is clearly uncomfortable with the attention Mercedes is bestowing upon him. Between leaning her breasts to practically rest on the table and her hand disappearing beneath it to, I’m sure, his knee and it had better only be his fucking knee, he keeps glancing my way, face flushing with a combination of too much wine and a healthy fear of me.

“So Clifton,” I say, putting my knife and fork down once I’m finished with the main course. I notice Mercedes hasn’t eaten much. Is she trying to impress him? Or did I misread her, and she’s fucking nervous around this idiot? She also hasn’t touched her wine.

“Yes, sir,” Clifton says.

“How is school going? You’re still on track to graduate this year?” Clifton is studying law, and from what I’ve learned, he’s nowhere near the top of his class, but he is very popular socially. I get it. He’s good looking. And likes to party. I wonder if Mercedes is aware of how much.

“Yes, Judge. I’ll be joining the family firm upon graduation. Perhaps you’ll see me in your courtroom someday soon.”

Oh, joy. “Well, I’m sure your father is very proud of you.”

“He is. And now that I’m readying to enter the next phase of life.” He turns to Mercedes, and when his hand disappears beneath the table, it makes my own clench. “Well, let’s just say I’m very glad to have run into Mercedes at the party.”

“You know, Judge, Clifton and I were at a joint summer camp back when we were kids,” Mercedes says. “Remember that?” she asks Clifton, setting her elbow on the table and turning her head so her hair forms a curtain between us. It’s done to exclude me. I will remember it once he leaves.

He points at her, mouth going from an O to a wide grin as he remembers. “The canoe incident. That was you, wasn’t it? We all suspected.”

Mercedes sits back in her chair, opens her arms wide, and takes a small bow with a tilt of her head.

“That Mrs. Crotch deserved a good dunk.”

“Mrs. Crotch. I can’t even remember her real name. Can you?”

They both laugh at the memory.

“Now the skinny-dipping night…” Clifton lowers his voice. “I have a feeling you organized that too.”

“It was so hot in those cabins,” Mercedes says, glancing at me. “I was just cooling off with a midnight swim, and my suit was still drying from earlier that day. How was I to know everyone would follow little ole me?”

Clifton is about to make a comment, but I stand and put my napkin over my plate.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your evening,” I say to Clifton.