A Woman Lost by T. B. Markinson

explained.
    “Oh, he can eat the leftovers.” Mom looked at her watch. “Serves him right for being late again.”
    “Mom, I’m sure something important held him up at the office.” Peter looked troubled.
    Was he upset that he would have to choose a side? He was never good at that when it came to our parents.
    “How ‘bout I get you another drink?” he told her.
    “I would never turn that down, but I’m famished. And I have to leave soon.”
    I was sure that was a lie. I examined her thin, persnickety face. Yes, she was fibbing.
    Peter’s face was priceless. He looked as if he might cry. I reveled in the moment, wondering whose side he would take: Mother’s or Father’s. Come on, Peter. Make a choice for once in your life.
    “Hello all.”
    Goddamnit! Why did he have to show up right then? I turned to find my father standing there, his expertly tailored three-piece suit hiding his belly.
    “Dad, you made it!”
    For a second, I thought Peter was going to wet himself with excitement. He reminded me of my neighbor’s cocker spaniel, who peed whenever he was excited.
    The Scotch-lady took another sip of her drink, but she didn’t even look in her husband’s direction. Was this why I was so screwed up about relationships? I glanced over at Sarah. To my astonishment, she showed no reaction to the scene at all. Was she just overwhelmed by it all?
    “Sorry I’m late … got held up, you know,” he said in a deep voice.
    Maddie’s jaw almost hit the floor. She looked at me, and I could tell she wanted to shout, “Oh my God! That’s the most your father has ever said.”
    Peter must have seen the expression on her face too, because he said, “Maddie, do you think we can get some food on the table and feed all these hungry people?”
    I wanted to hit him.
    She retorted, “I could if you would get your lazy buttocks out of my way.”
    To his credit, he didn’t rebuff her. Did he know he would lose the battle? Her southern charm didn’t quite take the sting out of it, but gave her words the illusion of being heartfelt.
    I could tell my father was impressed. He loved a woman with a spark. That explained why he hated my mother: her spark went out years ago.
    “If you’ll take a seat, I’ll bring out the salads?”
    I followed my father into the dining room. He was the man to follow. His girth announced that he never missed a meal.
    The dining room, considering the size of the house, was quite modest. The table could seat eight comfortably. In the middle was a beautiful yellow rose centerpiece in what I assumed was a Waterford vase. No paintings graced the wall; instead, an elegant candelabrum hung on the wall behind the table. And, of course, all of the votives were lit.
    Sarah and I took a seat together on one side, and my parents sat at the ends of the table. I found that surprising, but maybe they figured they paid for the house so they might as well have that honor. I was pleased. At least I didn’t have to stare at them across from me all night.
    Maddie walked in with the salad and seemed to wince a little when she saw the seating arrangement. Peter gave her his not-right-now smile. She shook her head and said, “I’m happy that all of you could join us this evening.”
    After placing the bowl by the man of the house, Charles, she sat down. “Peter and I have an announcement.” She placed her hand on Peter’s.
    Panic overcame me. I stopped breathing.
    “That’s right. After much finagling we have finally got our schedules squared away, and we have set a date for the wedding.”
    What a relief! I thought for sure she was going to say she was pregnant. I didn’t think I could handle that.
    “That’s great news. When’s the big day?” asked the romantic, Sarah.
    “July fourteenth,” replied Peter.
    I started to panic. Please Sarah, don’t say anything .
    “Did you say July fourteenth? That’s Lizzie’s birthday.” Sarah sounded baffled by Peter’s oversight.
    I wasn’t shocked at