AS THE SPARKS FLY UPWARD by Gloria Dank

the dinner progressed, he rose out of his preoccupation with the meal and began to notice an undercurrent of—could it be hostility or unease?—around the table. Irma was being, as before, overly affectionate with her young paramour, and it was drawing unfavorable glances and critical whispers. Everything Bobby said was brilliant; she hung on his every word; he knew best about everything. Bernard, watching the unlikely pair, thought that she appeared to be genuinely in love with him. What the young man felt was, of course, another matter. He seemed to be a little more withdrawn tonight than at lunch the other day; but perhaps he was simply more aware than she was of the amused, contemptuous looks they were receiving.
    Bernard went back to his dinner with an inward shrug of indifference. It didn’t matter to him what Irma Ditmar decided to do with her life and her money. If she wanted to make a fool of herself over a younger man, that was her business. And perhaps Bobby liked her for more than just her wealth. There was no telling. He glanced covertly sideways at his brother-in-law. Snooky was, unlike the others, paying no attention to Irma’s fussing and demonstrations of affection. He was clearing the dishes and chattering to Maya, but there was a thoughtful, inward look on his face.
    “Poor Aunt Irma,” Sarah said in a half-whisper at Bernard’s side. She was buttering her bread with short, angry gestures. “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Irma’s always been foolish over younger men, ever since Hugo died. But this one is more serious than the others.”
    “If it makes her happy, who cares?”
    “Well, there’s a bit more to it than that—” Sarah started to say, when Snooky emerged from the kitchen with a steaming deep dish apple pie. “Look at that!” she said in admiration.
    Bernard was already looking.
    “This dessert is at Bernard’s request,” Snooky said. “Apple walnut pie with a crumb topping. Here’s the cream.” Heserved huge slices slathered in heavy cream and topped with chopped walnuts. There were oohs and aahs around the table.
    Roger Halberstam looked as if he had died and gone to heaven. “Delicious,” he said between forkfuls. “Absolutely delicious.”
    Gertie, at the end of the table, was already gesturing for more and talking to Bobby in a loud voice. “I was out in the woods the other day,” she was saying, “and I saw a black squirrel. I didn’t know there were any this far north. A black squirrel, I’m telling you. A delightful little creature. You should spend more time in the woods, Bobby,” she said severely. “You’re so pale. It would be good for you.”
    “I don’t get much time off, Gertie. You know that.”
    “Ah, yes, that law firm you work in. Slave drivers. Anyway, as I was saying …”
    “You’re a lawyer?” Maya asked.
    “A law clerk, I’m afraid,” Bobby said. “A paralegal. We work just as hard but don’t make as much money.”
    “I see.”
    “That’s how we met,” Irma chirped up, her cheeks a bright pink. “Bobby works for my lawyer, Mr. Estes of Estes, Wolf and Harrison. Don’t you, dear?”
    “I certainly do.”
    “What’s he like, Bobby?” asked Dwayne.
    “As Gertie says. A slave driver.”
    Irma began to fuss. “I know, poor dear. I’ve spoken to him about it several times, but it never seems to make any difference. I think he works you far too hard.”
    “Oh, it doesn’t matter, Irma.”
    “Yes, it does. It does, Bobby. It matters to me. I hate to see you all pale and wan-looking, like Gertie said. You should get out more.”
    “I get out plenty.”
    “No, you don’t, poor dear.” Irma subsided into chirps of birdlike pleasure as Snooky handed her a plate of pie and cream. “Oh, my. This is lovely. Thank you so much. Where did your brother learn to cook like this, Maya?”
    Maya was disemboweling her pie and looking at it critically. “I have no idea. Nobody ever taught him. It’s just one of his little gifts.