The Ladies' Man by Elinor Lipman

Adele.
    â€œDon’t go overboard,” says Kathleen.
    â€œGo overboard,” says Richard. “I’ll take the leftovers.”
    â€œI’m wondering if we should get Peking duck, since there’s five of us,” says Lois.
    â€œIn celebration of the return of Harvey Nash?” Adele asks.
    Lois turns to Richard for the appropriate riposte, but gets only a shrug and a view of the base of his brown beer bottle. “I’m calling it in now,” she says.
    A door opens down the hall. Adele, Kathleen, and Richard sit up straighter. For a minute, they hear only Lois, in loud, patronizing syllables, articulating her choices into the telephone.
    Nash walks into the kitchen. The black half-circle under his eye is turning colors, and the welt on his cheekbone is weeping.
    â€œLadies,” says Nash, nodding formally. “Richard.” It is the first time he is viewing all three sisters together, and though he wants to weigh them against one another—to rate hair and freckled skin and three distinct bustlines on the same scorecard—he resists.
    â€œHeard you had a little brush with the ferocious Kathleen,” says Richard.
    Nash smiles charitably, the bad eye swollen out of alignment. “We’ve all done silly things in the heat of the moment that we regret.”
    â€œYou look like hell,” says Adele.
    â€œAnd you’ll be sure we get the pancakes and the plum sauce?” Lois barks into the phone.
    Richard points with his beer bottle. “Did you put ice on it?”
    â€œYour sister did.”
    Lois greets Nash, then asks brightly, “Who’s picking up the food?”
    Richard says, “I just got home.”
    â€œDon’t they deliver?” asks Nash.
    â€œLet’s you and I go,” says Adele to Kathleen. “I could use some fresh air.”
    Nash says, “If you’ll permit me, I’d very much like this to be my treat.”
    â€œForget it,” says Richard.
    Kathleen and Adele leave the kitchen with exaggerated dignity, chins held high like ballerinas playing soldiers.
    Nash points to a vacated chair. Richard says, “Sure. Sit. She feels pretty bad. And it’s so unlike Kathleen—”
    â€œWhy are you speaking for Kathleen?” asks Lois. “She should be saying this, not you.”
    Richard wants to say, “Shut up, Lois,” but says only, “Lo? You weren’t there today when Adele almost choked to death.”
    â€œThat’s exactly—”
    â€œAnd you weren’t there when I called Kathleen to tell her what happened at the restaurant. You didn’t hear her weeping into the phone.”
    Nash produces a small gag of physical or emotional distress. “I envy you,” he explains.
    â€œYou do?” asks Richard. He slides Kathleen’s untouched bottle in front of Nash.
    â€œA big family, still close. Lots of siblings.”
    â€œSisters,” corrects Richard. “
They
have siblings. I have sisters.”
    â€œHow often do you get together like this?” asks Nash.
    Richard smiles. “It depends on how much they like my current girlfriend.”
    Nash is all ears. “You mean their standards are a little high?” he asks.
    â€œHigher than mine.”
    â€œHe meets them on the job,” says Lois.
    â€œAnd that’s not good?”
    â€œServing papers?”
    Richard grins. “Perfectly nice people get served. Eighty percent of the population will at one time in their life come into contact with a deputy sheriff.”
    â€œBlah, blah, blah,” says Lois.
    Nash likes the sound of this outlaw dating pool. “Like who?” he asks.
    â€œYou mean, who gets served, or who have I ended up dating?”
    â€œWe like Leslie,” says Lois.
    â€œLeslie’s a writer,” says Richard. “She was being sued by an old boyfriend who claimed he was the model for the asshole husband in her novel.”
    â€œIs Leslie