Easily Amused

by McQuestion, Karen

  “Now, where were we?” he asked. Again with that voice. If he ever wanted to give up the consultant business, he’d be a natural at—well, anything really.

  “I think,” I said, “you were just about to kiss me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Ryan pulled me close. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, waiting for the payoff. My grandmother always said, “Good things come to those who wait,” and I’d been waiting a long time for love. I’m sure Grandma didn’t have this particular scenario in mind when she said it, but whatever. I felt like a new Lola, one who was willing to take a few chances.

  I felt his lips brush against mine—not a kiss really, more of a tease. Nice initially, but it went on a little longer than I expected. I opened my eyes and was surprised to see him staring back at me. “Do you always kiss with your eyes open?” I asked.

  “The better to see you with, my dear.”

  I stood on tiptoe and placed my hands on either side of his face to take control of the situation. This was definitely not the old Lola. Score one for me.

  He looked surprised, but acquiesced as I planted one on him. His mouth opened slightly, and I could feel him pressing back. When we broke apart, he had an amused sort of Elvis lip curl going on. “You’re more feisty than I would have thought.”

  “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “God no. I love an assertive woman in bed.”

  Bed? Who’d said anything about bed? Last I looked we were on a porch, which on this street was equivalent to being in a public square. Just to make things clear, I said, “I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself. We’re not to that point yet.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Well, not yet. But I think we should be to that point soon if we’re engaged, don’t you? Most couples about to get married are burning up the sheets. If we aren’t, it might not look authentic to your relatives when we make our announcement.”

  I cocked my head to one side, trying to decide if he was kidding. “My relatives won’t know the difference.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that. There’s something indescribable between a man and a woman when they’ve been intimate. Anyone who’s ever experienced it would pick up on it. And why let them have even a shred of doubt?”

  I took a step back to look at his face. He wore the same calm, concerned expression he had when reassuring me that neither Hubert’s nor Mindy’s behavior was an issue for him. He looked sincere.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Ryan said. “It sounds like I’m trying to maneuver you into bed for my own evil purposes.” He leaned back against the railing, like he was posing for a J. Crew catalog. “I’d be lying if I said the idea of making love to you hasn’t crossed my mind many times. You’re a sexy, smart woman—what man wouldn’t want to be with you? But honestly, and I am being completely honest here, I also do believe it would strengthen our case at the wedding. We’d be completely comfortable together, and it would show.” He moved next to me and ran his hand up and down my back. “If we’d been dating awhile, we’d get to that point anyway, don’t you think? And I think it’s safe to say we’re on that path right now. I can definitely see us in a long-term relationship. So really, what’s the harm in stepping things up a bit?”

  I stood there for a minute feeling his fingers feather lightly between my shoulder blades. For once I understood what it meant to be speechless. I thought of my former roommate Andrea and all her sexcapades. She’d have jumped at the chance to have sex with a man as good looking as Ryan. The fact that she barely knew him wouldn’t have been a problem. Most of her stories started with her meeting a hot guy in a bar and ended with, “Then I nailed him.” She mentioned it so casually, as if it were in the same category as making a phone call or waving good-bye.

  But that wasn’t me.

  “Well,” he said finally, “it’s certainly not a deal breaker. Just think about it. I’m up for the wedding either way.”

  “OK, good.” I had to force the words out.

  “Because I certainly wouldn’t want to pressure anyone to have sex before they’re ready. It’s completely up to you.” He ran one finger down the base of my spine and rested his hand on my backside. “Oh look.” He motioned with his free hand, the one that wasn’t making me uncomfortable. “There’s your sister.”

  Sure enough, Mindy was crossing the street and headed in our direction. She had a scowl on her face and was moving so quickly that the purse hanging over her shoulder swung as she walked. I got the distinct impression she was not pleased.

  “I better go see what she wants,” I said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I met Mindy halfway.

  “What took you so long?” she said, irritated. “I’ve been waiting forever.” Her nose was scrunched like she smelled something rotten.

  “I didn’t say I was coming back. I thought you were leaving.”

  “You did so say you were coming back. Your exact words were, ‘Mindy, wait right here.’”

  Did I say that? I probably did, come to think of it. I’d lost my mind, and now I was standing in the middle of the road facing Mindy as if we were opponents in a wrestling match. I glanced back at Ryan’s house, but he’d gone inside. “Well, I’m here now. What do you want?”

  “What do you mean, what do I want? I want to talk to you.”

  “So talk.”

  We walked toward her car, a bright red Ford that had always looked sporty to me, up until I’d ridden in a Jaguar. Now, parked directly across from Ryan’s house, it had a definite wannabe look to it.

  “I was hoping to talk in private,” she said, leaning against the driver’s side door. “Can’t we go inside?”

  “It’s private here. No one’s around. And I have a lot to do, Mindy. I can’t be gabbing with you for hours. So whatever you want to tell me, just tell me.” I wasn’t in the mood for Mindy’s drama. She’d been hitting on my fiancé, and she’d taken great glee at intruding on a private moment between Hubert and myself, and that was just in the last twenty-four hours. The past twenty-some years she’d caused me enough aggravation that if life were fair I’d be allowed to kill her. Luckily for her, life wasn’t fair.

  “You don’t have to be so crabby,” she said. “I came all the way down here to see you. You could at least be nice.”

  Half an hour ago she said she’d come in search of her sunglasses. Truth could shape-shift when Mindy was involved. I crossed my arms and smiled widely, to show how nice I could be. Hopefully this would speed things up. “I’m just a little upset with you today, Mindy. What’s the deal with you having Ryan drive you home last night?”

  Her face lit up. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Ryan is unbelievable. Oh my God, he’s funny and smart and really interesting. He’s traveled everywhere. I could have talked to him all night.”

  So my alliance with Ryan was getting the desired effect. Score one for Lola. “He is really great,” I said, stating the obvious.

  “He’s more than great. Almost too good to be true. And he’s so incredibly good looking. Like a dream or something.”

  “That he is.” Finally, something we agreed upon.

  “So my question is, how serious are you two? Because I was getting a just-friends vibe.”

  “We’re more than just friends,” I said indignantly. Hadn’t she noticed his arm around my shoulder? The way he addressed me as “hon”? “We’re dating. We’ve been dating for months.”

  “A few months isn’t all that long.”

  Typical of Mindy to be dismissive of anything concerning me. “Yes, but we’ve been inseparable the whole time.” She still looked dubious. “We’re even,” I said, moving in closer, “talking about getting married.”

  She whooped with laughter, as if I’d said something outrageously funny. Her reaction hit me like a smack across the back of the head.

  “Well, we are,” I said. “What’s so funny about that?”

  Mindy fo
rced air out her closed lips—pfffftt. “Oh please, Lola, be serious. You haven’t even slept with him yet. How could you be talking marriage?”

  He told her we hadn’t had sex yet? No, he wouldn’t have. “Why would you say I haven’t even slept with him yet?”

  “Well, have you?” Her tone was challenging. When I didn’t answer, she flipped her hair back and said, “I didn’t think so. I can always tell.”

  She could always tell? No way. Lucky guess, that’s what it was.

  “See, the thing is,” she said, “and this is nothing against you, but he’s more my type. Ryan and I are both multilingual and love to travel. We have the exact same tastes in music and movies. Practically everything I mentioned as my favorite was his favorite too. It was absolutely uncanny.”

  What? What? What? “Wait a minute,” I said. “Are you saying you want to go out with my boyfriend?” She said nothing, just widened her eyes and tilted her head to one side. It was an expression that never failed to charm my dad or Chad, but it wasn’t working on me. “You’re insane. He’s going out with me. Me, me, me. It’s not always about you, Mindy. Not to mention that you happen to be getting married to Chad, the love of your life, in three weeks. Count ’em—three.” I held up the proper number of fingers for illustration. “What are you thinking?”

  “Lola, chill.” She tapped her foot impatiently. “I didn’t say I wasn’t getting married. I just want to see what else is out there before I do. And don’t you want me to be one hundred percent sure?”

  “You’re supposed to be sure already!”

  “What’s your point?”

  A favorite retort of hers, but I wasn’t going to stop to think about a specific point. This whole discussion was my point. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Please, Lola. I just asked. Besides, I didn’t set out to do anything. I’m just kind of thinking it’s fate I happened to meet Ryan at the same time I was having doubts about me and Chad.”

  “It wasn’t fate. You only met him because I, your sister, am going out with him. Which makes him unavailable. Sorry, Mindy, I got him first. He’s off limits.”

  “Whatever.” She looked bored. Another one of her tricks. “I don’t know why you’re getting so bent out of shape about Ryan anyway. He’s not really your type. There’s no way a guy like that would ever be serious about you. Besides, you’ve got old backup Hubert right in the same house with you. From what I saw, you two can go at it like minks in heat when the mood’s right.”

  I felt my blood pressure rise and anger grip my throat. I lifted my hand from my side and slapped her across the face. I saw her look of shock right after I felt the sting of my hand against her cheek. She took a step back, and her head trembled from the aftershock.

  “You bitch! What was that for?” She pressed her palm against her face.

  “Don’t talk about Hubert like that,” I said. “And leave Ryan alone. Or I’ll tell Chad.”

  “Go ahead.” She shrugged. A reddened impression of my hand was forming on her cheek. “Your word against mine.” She fished her car keys out of her purse. “I suppose you’ll tell Mom then, too. You’ve always been a squealer. Well, I could tell Mom a few things about you. And don’t think I won’t.” She climbed into the driver’s side and slammed the door shut. When she started up the engine, the radio kicked on at full volume. Kelly Clarkson.

  “You’ve got nothing on me,” I yelled after the car as she pulled away. I looked up to see Crazy Myra watching me from her front lawn. Today she wore aqua-colored pants and a white button-down shirt. Her head was covered in a bandana wrapped over curlers, and she was drinking from my coffee mug. I pointed down the street. “She has nothing on me,” I said, embarrassed.

  Myra glanced in the direction of Mindy’s car as it screeched around the corner. “Your sister?”

  “Yes.” I wondered how long she’d been standing there and how much she’d heard.

  She took a sip from my mug. “They can be difficult.”

  “You got that right.”

  We stood and looked at each other—me from my spot in the road, Myra standing on the grass. She seemed OK with the silence, but I didn’t want to walk off too abruptly. “You didn’t go to the Chos’ for dinner?” I asked.

  “No, I’m waiting for my ride. I have other plans.” She said it rather proudly, the way someone would announce they’d won a major award.

  “Good. Sounds like fun. I guess I should be getting home.” I started to gesture toward my house, and then I caught myself and lowered my arm. She knew where I lived.

  “Have a safe trip,” she said, without a bit of irony.

  After I crossed the lawn and was nearly to my porch, Myra called out, “Lola?”

  I stopped. “Yes?”

  “Don’t worry. Things work out.”

  She sounded pretty confident for someone who knew nothing about anything. “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  I went into my house expecting to see Hubert, yet another person upset with me and wanting answers, but he was nowhere in sight. My mind reeled with everything that had happened—getting caught kissing Hubert, Mindy announcing she intended to make a play for Ryan, Piper saying Hubert had a crush on me in high school, kissing Ryan and then hearing him say he wanted to authenticate our fake engagement with real sex. Did I miss anything? Oh, yes, Myra telling me not to worry, everything would be fine. She hadn’t a clue what I was going through, poor misguided soul.

  I checked that Hubert wasn’t anywhere on the first floor before I picked up the phone to call Piper. Upstairs I heard the soft strains of music. Something classical? He was probably holed up in his room, which was best for now.

  I dialed and Mike answered. Thankfully, he didn’t give me his normal spiel. “I don’t want to be rude, Lola, but I can’t really talk. Piper went to pick up the sitter, and I’m trying to get Brandon into his pajamas. I got the bottom and top on no problem, but I can’t get the damn snaps to line up no matter what I do.” He laughed heartily. “I thought I was pretty smart, but this is beyond me.”

  “The top’s not on backwards, is it?” You learn a few things when you edit a parenting magazine.

  “The top? Wait a minute.” He set the phone down, and I heard some scuffling noises and Brandon giggling. Boy, what a cute sound.

  “Lola?”

  “Yes?”

  “You were right. It was on backwards.” Definitely a eureka moment for him. “How did you know that?”

  “It happens, Mike. Say, could you let Piper know I called?”

  “Sure, but she probably won’t get back to you until tomorrow, unless it’s an emergency. We have tickets to a game, and it might be late.”

  “No emergency. She can call back whenever. Have fun.” I said good-bye and set the phone down. Now what? I wandered through the house looking for something to do. I settled down with the newspaper, but after I finished with my horoscope and the funnies, nothing really held my interest. From the Chos’ next door I heard laughter and the wheeze-slam of the screen door opening and shutting. It sounded like a party. I half regretted turning down their invitation. At least socializing would have forced me to think about something other than my problems. Not that mine were all that large. If I was looking for people with real problems, I was sure Brother Jasper could point me in the right direction. Every day he dealt with people with drug addictions and mental illness, people without homes or much in the way of material things. Comparatively speaking, I was doing pretty well.

  Still, when the problems are your own, they always seem enormous. The person who wants to lose ten pounds feels a kinship to those who have to lose a hundred, though it never works the other way around.

  Maybe, I thought, it would help to organize things in my head, or better yet, to write it down. My dad always used to have me draw two columns on a sheet of paper when I had a big decision—the pros and cons. When he first introduced me to the concept, I thought it was the hokiest thing ever, but since then I’d use
d it numerous times and it really helped.

  I went into the kitchen and grabbed a pen and pad off the top of the refrigerator, and then I sat at the table to sort out my life.

  My three biggest problems all had names: Mindy, Hubert, Ryan. At the top of the page I printed, “What to do about Mindy?” I thought for a second and wrote, “Monitor the situation and/or tell Chad.” Telling Chad probably wasn’t the best idea, though. Mindy was right. It would be her word against mine, and as far as Chad was concerned, Mindy was the last word on everything. Still, it was an option. My best bet was to be hypervigilant. Most likely Mindy wouldn’t pursue Ryan. I’d told her in no uncertain terms to back off. More importantly, Ryan was wise to her. Really, Mindy was more irritation than problem. Chances were she’d only expressed interest in Ryan to needle me.

  “What to do about Hubert?” was the next heading on the page. Underneath it I wrote one word: “Apologize.” He was upset with me, I could tell, and I needed to get that straightened out. Luckily, he was never one to hold a grudge. The fact that we’d kissed really muddied up the friendship. It was a pretty passionate kiss too, and just thinking about how we must have looked to Mindy and Ryan made me flush with embarrassment. Even so, I thought I could placate Hubert. Once I explained that Ryan and I were now going out, he’d have to respect that.

  On the lower half of the page I wrote, “Sex with Ryan,” and made two columns, one for pros and one for cons. I stared at the paper and then put down the pen when I realized I couldn’t go any further. It was one thing to make this kind of listing when considering a job offer. Sex fell into a whole other category. How could I write “feels great” under pros, and think “possibility of disease/pregnancy” under cons would cancel it out? No, sex couldn’t be quantified. It was a decision of the heart. And other parts too, but for my purposes, I’d stick with the heart.

  I looked at the page before me and tried to think of something else to write. A few minutes ago I’d been burdened down with problems. Now, looking at them printed on the page, the solutions came down to keeping an eye on Mindy, apologizing to Hubert, and playing it by ear with Ryan. Not so bad. Easy, really. No one had cancer. I hadn’t lost my house or my job. And I had two guys interested in me. There was nothing to complain about.