careful days

part 2

 "Diane, for the love of God, please don't slouch."

 Diane winces and rolls her shoulders, avoiding your eyes from across the table and sharing a look with Frank.

 Holding your expression motionless, you push your chest out slightly to correct your posture. Then you panic, thinking that Frank's mother will assume you're a whore. You pull up the neckline of your dress as subtly as possible, head bowed.

 Though you've only officially known her for less than thirty minutes, you wouldn't put it above Frank's mother to make such an accusation to your face. Or behind your back.

 Her panel on supporting women in university spaces seemed pleasant enough, her soft-spoken British-accented words drifting throughout the lecture hall and nearly lulling you to sleep. You tried to focus on the wisdom she dispensed—despite what Frank said about her, she was still an undeniably successful woman in a male-dominated field.

 Although, you had difficulty concentrating, especially with her son browsing through his phone next to you for the entire forty-five minutes.

 "Francis," she had greeted him once the majority of students and faculty had left. A name which forced you to disguise your giggle as a cough into your elbow. Then, "You're wearing that to dinner?"

 You thought Frank dressed handsomely. Unfairly so, actually, the fabric hugging his stupid muscles.

 "Mother," Frank said curtly. "This is our special dinner guest."

 You swear you had the biggest, friendliest smile plastered on your face, yet it did nothing to charm her. She cocked an eyebrow at you, judgmental.

 "How are you liking your teaching?" she asks now.

 Your eyes widen when the attention of Evelyn Adler finally lands on you, a stark change from the lovely-sounding, thinly veiled insults that she has been hurling at her two grown children all evening. She lifts a few leaves of her salad to her mouth with a natural delicacy.

 You chew and swallow your pasta thoroughly before daring to say anything.

 This restaurant is fancy to the point of discomfort; at least twice tonight, you've startled at the servers whisking away your plate only to swap it with an identical one.

 While Frank and Diane didn't strike you as particularly posh people, they seemed well-practiced within this setting, their backs stiff and napkins unfolded on their laps. Frank had even pulled out your chair, and tsked at you when you stifled a laugh at his sudden chivalry.

 "It's really fun, actually." You drink some of your water. Fun?! "My students, they're each brilliant in their own way. Funny, too."

 Evelyn's brow creases. "Hmm."

 "She's looking to find a new university," Frank mentions, aggressively cutting his steak. "Abroad."

 She hums, haughty. "Why is that?"

 "Just for a change of scenery." You twirl more noodles onto your fork, feeling ill under her stern gaze. "I've lived here forever."

 "Would you be moving with her, Frank?"

 In terms of fully processing the question, Diane beats you by a long shot. "Wait, you're gonna move?"

 Your heavy fork almost clatters onto your plate when Frank lays a warm palm over your wrist. "We... haven't discussed that yet."

 "A change would be good for you." Evelyn takes a sip of her half-empty water glass, clearly surveying the room for a server to bother.

 Frank nudges you until you lay your utensil on the tablecloth, then grasps your hand. Diane frowns at the display of affection, eyes narrowed at you.