Easily Amused

by McQuestion, Karen

  “The Mindy,” Chad said, chuckling. Ryan had a big smile on his face too. I sat back in satisfaction, knowing that despite my sister’s best efforts I’d wrested control. It was no longer The Mindy Show, and we wouldn’t be returning to that channel if I could help it.

  “So, what movie did you guys see tonight?” I asked.

  Chad lit up—finally something he could answer. “It was that new horror film, Demon Keepers. Slick computer graphics and great suspense. Really jumpy in parts too.”

  “It was stupid and predictable.” Mindy feigned a yawn.

  Chad pointed a fork in her direction. “Sure, she says that now, but you should have seen her hanging on my arm and covering her eyes. You can’t fool me, Mindy, you were terrified.”

  “Tell us about the computer graphics,” I said, knowing full well what would follow. And it did. Chad rambled on and on about the special effects, an interest of his. He’d read up on this movie way back when it was still in production, and he had followed the blog of one of the visual effects guys, so he was up on this. The whole thing was close enough to a video game to hold his attention.

  When he stopped to catch his breath, I fed him a question. “Weren’t you telling me once about a method where they film a few people and then make it look like a crowd? How is that done?” I gave Mindy a friendly smile to show her I was pulling her fiancé into our discussion just because I was so very nice.

  The three of us were able to eat our meals while Chad regaled us with descriptions of how motion picture magic was achieved. I was quite pleased with myself, frankly, and Chad was the happiest I’d seen him since the day he passed his driver’s test.

  By the time our dinner plates were cleared away, the balance had successfully shifted from Mindy, and we’d achieved table equilibrium. Ryan and I talked about the movie we’d seen, and I smiled, thinking about the feel of his hand over mine in the theater. Such a simple thing for most people. Mothers hold their children’s hands when they cross the street, and teenagers at the mall hold hands and think nothing of it. But for me, the significance was enormous. It was a beginning.

  “That’s the movie I wanted to go to,” Mindy said. “I love Kate Hudson. But Chad had to see Demon Keepers.” Again she pouted. I caught Ryan’s eye, and we exchanged a glance—there she goes again.

  “We can go to your movie next time. How about tomorrow night?” Chad was sweet in his puppy-dog-wanting-to-please sort of way.

  “Go to the movies two nights in a row? Please. I don’t think so.” She folded her arms like a spoiled child.

  “Would anyone like dessert or coffee?” Ryan asked.

  I matched his brilliant smile with my own, thinking that he missed his calling. If his consulting work ever fizzled, he’d be an excellent diplomat. “I’d love some coffee, thank you,” I said, knowing that neither Mindy nor Chad drank coffee—they weren’t that grown-up yet. I hoped Ryan and I could do a repeat of the other night by lingering over steaming cups, while my sister and her fiancé paid their part of the bill and took their bickering act elsewhere. That’s what I was hoping for anyway, but I should have known Mindy would screw it up for me somehow.

  “I’d love some dessert,” she said. “I could use the calories. I’ve been trying to gain a few pounds. It’s really a struggle.” She didn’t meet my eyes, but I knew when a jab was intended for me. Keeping my weight down had always been a battle for me. I was the one who had trouble resisting sweets—Mindy, on the other hand, could take them or leave them.

  “They have some excellent choices,” Ryan said. “Their cheesecake is particularly good.”

  “Thailand-ish cheesecake?” Chad said. “What is it, like mixed with weird spices, or what?”

  “Cheesecake isn’t a specialty of Thailand,” Ryan explained. “I think the restaurant serves it because it’s a popular here. It’s actually believed to have originated in ancient Greece. The first recorded mention of cheesecake was when it was served to the athletes during the very first Olympic games.”

  “Wow, it’s been around a long time then,” Chad said.

  When the waitress came with the dessert tray, Chad and I declined. Ryan chose a raspberry cheesecake, while Mindy picked the amaretto.

  “Make sure you bring her the biggest piece you have,” I told the waitress. “She says she needs the calories.”

  The woman raised her eyebrows in surprise but said, “Very good,” as she lifted the tray to her shoulder.

  After she left, Mindy gave me a steely look. “That wasn’t necessary, Lola. I certainly don’t need the biggest piece.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “I must have misunderstood. I thought you said you wanted to put on a few pounds.”

  When the desserts arrived, I was heartened to see that the cheesecake looked as solid as a brick. Mindy’s plate held a piece and a half, surrounded by a pool of amaretto sauce. The waitress announced brightly that we were in luck—they had the additional smaller wedge because a regular customer had ordered a partial piece.

  “Really,” Mindy said, pushing the plate forward, “I couldn’t possibly eat this much. You can take it back. A regular-sized piece is plenty.”

  The woman frowned. “I didn’t charge you extra.”

  “Come on,” I urged. “Give it your best try.”

  “I could help you out,” Chad said. For him this was a sacrifice. His taste in extraneous calories veered more toward Doritos and Cheetos and all the other snack foods with the “-tos” suffix. Sugar held no allure for him.

  The waitress stood with her arms folded, as if she wasn’t giving in. My guess was she’d pulled some strings to get the extra chunk of cheesecake. Taking the piece back to the kitchen would be a failure of sorts. Earlier in the meal, I would have said she seemed meek. Now, with the cheesecake at stake, our server’s true personality came through. I had to admire her resolve.

  “It’s such a nice gesture; it would be a shame to send it back.” Ryan’s voice was kindly. “You could always take the rest home.” The man was a saint.

  “Sure, save it for later,” I said. “Who knows? Around midnight a hunk of amaretto cheesecake might be just the thing.”

  Mindy looked at Ryan and then at me. She reluctantly pulled the plate toward her. “It’s fine,” she told the waitress. “I’ll keep it. Thanks.”

  It was empowering to see Mindy forced to eat her cheesecake. She took miniscule bites. “Delish,” she replied when Ryan asked how she liked it. Meanwhile, I sipped my adult coffee, no sugar, no cream, a beverage devoid of calories. I felt a smidge superior. The situation, I realized, was as much about power as it was about food. Control is what I’d been lacking, that was clear to me now. And not just in food, but in my life in general. But things were going to change. Enough with being passive. There was a new Lola in town. I was going to make an effort to be the kind of person who made things happen instead of being the type who sat at home night after night watching clips on Youtube.com.

  I looked at Ryan, and he smiled back, a forkful of raspberry cheesecake halfway to his lips. I decided at that exact moment that I would announce our engagement at Mindy and Chad’s wedding. I could picture myself standing at the head table calling out for everyone’s attention and then motioning for Ryan to come to my side. In my bridesmaid dress with my hair and makeup professionally done, our disparity in looks wouldn’t be quite as apparent. Not so much of a stretch after all.

  And then I’d lay it on them. To quell my nervousness, I’d think of the crowd as my audience, my adoring fans. And so I wouldn’t look egocentric, I’d first thank Chad and Mindy for allowing me to share my news on their special day before introducing Ryan. I could almost hear the collective gasps of surprise and the smattering of applause, which would swell in volume as people realized the magnitude of my revelation. Maybe, to make it fair, I’d even set our wedding date on Mindy’s birthday. I wondered what Ryan would think of a winter wedding?

  Mentally I rehearsed: I have an announcement to make. I’m engaged to
be married! Then I’d gesture like Vanna White. I would like to introduce you to my fiancé, Ryan Moriarty. I stared into my coffee, so engrossed in thought that when I heard my name and Ryan nudged me with his elbow, I thought for a moment that I’d spoken the words aloud.

  “Lola?”

  My head rose with a jerk, and I looked at Ryan, who pointed at the source of the voice. Brother Jasper. He stood in front of our table, his hands clasped together. “Miss Lola, I’m so sorry to be interrupting your dinner, but you’re needed at home.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Seeing Brother Jasper out of context was so jarring I had difficulty processing his words. A feeling came over me—the same mix of disbelief and panic I’d once felt when I spotted my uncle at a bar I frequented as an underage drinker. “Excuse me?”

  Brother Jasper cleared his throat. “There’s a problem with your friend Hubert. He needs you.”

  “Hubert? Is he hurt?” A thousand injury possibilities raced through my mind, most of them cooking related. Fire, second-degree burns, smoke inhalation…

  “He’s not hurt physically.” He spoke slowly, considering his words. “But he’s had quite a shock, and he’s not doing well.”

  “A shock?”

  “I’d rather not say any more right now. He can give you the details himself.” Brother Jasper gave the rest of my group an apologetic glance. “Nothing against you folks. I just wouldn’t want to violate the boy’s privacy. But Lola really is needed at home.”

  Across the table Chad looked as confused as if Brother Jasper had proclaimed that the survival of the planet depended on me and me alone. “This is Brother Jasper,” I announced, suddenly remembering my manners. “He lives across the street from me.”

  “Oh, then you must have known my great-aunt,” Mindy said, pointing to her chest. “I’m Lola’s younger sister, Mindy.” She cocked her head in a way meant to convey concern. “It was such a shock for me when Aunt May died. She was a dear. Such a loss.”

  Brother Jasper nodded thoughtfully. “May was a lovely lady and a great friend of mine.” He shifted his attention back to me. “I was hoping you’d come back with me?”

  “We were just finishing up.” I gestured to our full coffee cups and half-finished desserts. I looked at Ryan, hoping he’d offer to drive me home on the spot, but he lifted the coffee cup to his lips as if time wasn’t an issue for him.

  Brother Jasper shifted his weight. “I think it’s best to leave now, if you don’t mind. I’d be glad to drive you if your friends want to stay.”

  Ryan set down his cup. “Lola, I completely understand if you have to go. I’ll stay to take care of the bill and call you tomorrow.”

  Not the response I was hoping for, but Brother Jasper was waiting, so I grabbed my purse and scooted out of the booth. Ryan slid out as well and stood next to me, to say good-bye, I thought—but then he extended a hand to Brother Jasper. “This is so kind of you, sir. I’m Ryan Moriarty, by the way.”

  Brother Jasper looked amused and gave Ryan’s hand a cursory shake. “Oh, I know exactly who you are. You live next door to me.” He placed his hand on my back. “I’ll fill you in on the drive home, Lola.”

  I felt myself being guided toward the door and shot a helpless look back at the table, where Mindy was jubilant and Chad puzzled. “Good night,” I called out to Ryan. “Thanks for a great evening.” He gave a salutary wave before sitting back down.

  Damn. No goodnight kiss for Lola, or anything else for that matter. The romance gods had conspired against me. Again.

  “We’d better hurry,” Brother Jasper said once we were outside. He owned a four-door junker the color of moss, which he’d parked illegally on the street, blocking in two other cars.

  “What’s this all about? What’s wrong with Hubert?” I asked once we were settled inside. The seat belts in his car were like the kind found on airplanes. I had to adjust the clip manually, and there was no shoulder harness. No air bags either. Lucky we were surrounded by two tons of metal.

  Brother Jasper started up the car and eased it down the road. When he accelerated, the engine made a loud thrumming noise. “I can tell you what I know,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road. “But I don’t want to give away anyone’s business. You’ll have to get the rest from Hubert or Piper.”

  “Piper?” Piper?

  “I was sitting on my porch smoking a cigarette,” he said. “I know, I know.” He held up his hand as if to silence me. “I know I should quit, but it’s my last bad habit. Anyway, I was out smoking, and I saw your friend Piper’s car pull up in front of your house. She’d given Hubert a ride home from the bar, apparently.”

  The bar? When did a bar enter the story? When I left, he was basting chicken.

  “Piper was having some trouble getting him out of the car and into the house, so I went to help, of course. He’d had a lot to drink. Way too much to drink.” He sounded regretful about the whole situation. “Not that I’m judging him. Lord knows I wasn’t put on this earth to point fingers at anyone else. I’m as flawed as any man, that’s a given.” He fell silent and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. His gaze seemed to go further than the road ahead. I could tell I was losing him.

  “So you went to help…” I prompted.

  “Oh yes,” he said, returning. “Between the two of us, we managed to get him up the steps and into the house. It was a challenge. He’s a tall young man, and he was not holding up well. He could barely stand up straight.” Brother Jasper shook his head. “And he was so upset.”

  None of this made sense. It was so unlike Hubert. The more I heard, the more questions I had. “I’m confused. Did he and Piper go out together? And why is he upset? Did someone die?”

  “No one died.” Brother Jasper turned the corner by palming the wheel, a technique that would have horrified my high school driver’s ed teacher. “Hubert has woman trouble. Someone named Kelly?” We paused at a stop sign, and he turned to look at me.

  I nodded to acknowledge Kelly’s name. “But she broke up with him a week ago. I thought he was over that by now. Or at least getting over it.”

  “The heart takes a long time to heal.” He sighed. “Apparently he was out somewhere and saw Kelly with someone else. After that, he went out and got drunk. Sometime later he called Piper for a ride home. And that’s all I know. You’ll hear more from your friends, I’m sure.”

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  “Hubert knew the name of the restaurant. Said you were going to a movie first, so I thought there was a chance you’d still be there.”

  “Oh.” I did some quick addition—the movie was two hours at the most, and we hadn’t been at the restaurant more than an hour or so. Even throwing in some driving time, I’d been out of the house no more than a few hours. “I wasn’t gone very long. That’s awfully quick to get falling-down drunk.”

  Brother Jasper shrugged. “What can I say? The boy applied himself.”

  For the next few miles, I didn’t say a word. Brother Jasper maneuvered the big car as deftly as a city bus driver. Despite the fact that he was a smoker, the car didn’t smell of cigarettes, and the ashtray was filled with change. I’d heard from the neighbors that he often used this car to give people from the homeless shelter rides to and from the free clinic. I myself had watched him load it full of canned goods to take to the food pantry. And Belinda had once told me that Brother Jasper always headed up the search party when her little dog got loose. I got the impression it happened fairly often and that she thought I’d offer to help, but that would be the day. I couldn’t imagine I’d ever be one of those neighbors who would drop what I was doing to beat the bushes for a mutt in need obedience training. I wasn’t that good a person.

  But Brother Jasper was.

  Tonight, at the end of a long day, instead of slumping in front of the TV like most people, Brother Jasper had helped Hubert and Piper, near strangers, and then retrieved me from a restaurant across town. An extremely nice thing to do. And i
nstead of acting grateful, I’d been resistant and questioning.

  It struck me that I was in the presence of an extraordinarily good man. Every day he probably did more good deeds than I did in a year. “I really appreciate you doing this,” I said, breaking the silence. I wanted to say more, but I couldn’t quite figure out a way to say it that wouldn’t sound like apple-polishing.

  “The pleasure’s mine,” he said, turning onto our street. It was dark, but the houses were lit from within and the streetlights illuminated the leafy canopy of trees that lined either side of the road.

  As we pulled up in front of my house, I was surprised to see Piper’s minivan in my driveway. I’d assumed she’d left once Hubert was in the house. “Piper’s still here?”

  “She was waiting until you got home. She didn’t want to leave him alone.”

  Oh. “Well thanks,” I said. “If you ever need anything, let me know. I owe you big time.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. That’s what friends are for.”

  The word “friends” startled me. I never would have included Brother Jasper on my list of friends. He was older than my father, maybe older than my grandfather even—it was hard to say. But now that he’d said the word, I was proud he considered me friend material. He’d be a good one to have. I felt a sudden warm surge of emotion, not unlike what the Grinch experienced when his heart grew three sizes that day.

  “If you need anything, day or night, just call or come knocking,” he said. “The world can be a big, cold place. No reason we can’t give each other a hand and ease the way a bit.”

  “OK.” I lifted the lever to open the car door. “I’ll remember that. Thanks.”

  It was a short trip home for him, seeing as our driveways were across from each other. I stood for a moment watching. After he pulled into his driveway and the brake lights glowed just short of his garage, I turned and went up my walkway.