Easily Amused

by McQuestion, Karen

  “You know I’m looking for her,” he said. “Don’t bother trying to cover for her. Just tell me where she is.”

  “I haven’t seen Mindy or talked to her for a week now. I have no idea where she is.”

  “Mindy’s missing?” Hubert said.

  I filled him in. “She’s been letting Chad and Jessica think she’s with me the past week, but I haven’t seen her.”

  “Aha, you did know.” Chad pointed at me. “And you didn’t tell me.”

  “Jessica and I figured it out yesterday at the mall. I called Mindy’s cell today, but she didn’t answer.”

  “But you weren’t going to tell me?”

  “I was giving her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe there’s a good explanation.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe she’s off planning some big surprise for you, a wedding gift or something.” I could tell that neither Hubert nor Chad thought that was likely. Mindy wasn’t much of a giver.

  “You know something you’re not telling me,” he said accusingly. “She’s been coming here and you’ve been driving her somewhere or something.”

  “What are you talking about? Why would I do that?”

  “I know it because—” He snapped his fingers. “Come outside and I’ll show you.” He turned and disappeared from the kitchen.

  Hubert pushed back his chair and got up. “Don’t tell me you’re not curious, Lola. Let’s go out and see what the man’s talking about.”

  I followed Hubert out onto the porch, down the front walkway, and over to Chad, who stood next to his car.

  “Right here,” Chad said, pointing to the curb. “Right here it’s twenty-two point two miles from our condo. Twenty-two point two.”

  Three twos in a row had a nice symmetry, but I didn’t get his meaning. “So?”

  “Twenty-two point two,” he said. “So doubled that’s forty-four point four, right?”

  I looked to Hubert, who nodded. In fourth grade they covered decimals. Chad continued. “And that’s exactly how many miles Mindy drove each time this week when she said she was visiting you. I checked her odometer, and then I compared it by driving over here. The same twenty-two point two each way.”

  He checked the odometer and the distance to my house, but it didn’t occur to him to actually follow her? Poor Chad.

  Hubert clapped a hand on Chad’s shoulder. “Man to man, I have to tell you,” he said, “I’ve been here all week and I haven’t seen Mindy. Trust me when I tell you Lola’s not covering anything up.”

  “But odometers don’t lie,” Chad protested. “The mileage is the same.”

  “Coincidence maybe?” Hubert said. Chad looked crestfallen. Ready for a confrontation and not getting it—how frustrating.

  “You need to talk to Mindy and ask her what’s going on,” I said. I’d love to know myself, for that matter.

  “I’ve tried talking to her. She just says she’s running errands for the wedding.” He leaned back against his car like John Travolta in Grease, if John had been short and really depressed. His despondent expression turned to alarm when a flash of light reflected off the car. “What the hell is that?” Chad asked, glancing down the block at the source of the light.

  Before we could answer, we heard Belinda off in the distance cooing, “Baxter, Baxter, come here, boy.”

  “My neighbor looking for her dog again,” I said. For the first time ever, I was glad of a King Street distraction.

  “Yoo-hoo,” Belinda called out to us, oblivious to the fact that nobody outside of Mayberry said “yoo-hoo” anymore. She was heading our way. “Have you seen my little Baxter? He keeps sneaking out, the stinker.”

  Hubert said, “No, we haven’t seen him, but we can help you look if you like.” In the past I would have begged off, but I felt generous tonight and glad for a distraction. If Hubert was up for it, I’d go along.

  “That would be great,” she said, coming up alongside us. “OK, here’s our strategy. We fan out over the neighborhood. He never goes more than a block or so away. Just call him like this, OK?” She cupped her hand around her mouth. “Baxter, Baxter.” For some reason she was looking right at me, as if I was the one who needed dog-calling lessons. “Then listen for his barking. Sometimes he gets his little collar caught on something. One time he found an opening in a fence but couldn’t find his way back out.”

  Baxter didn’t sound too bright. Not that I knew much about dogs, but weren’t they supposed to find us when we were lost?

  “Hubert and I can cover this block.” She waved her flashlight at my house. “And you two can do across the street. Make sure you do both the front and backyards. People don’t mind.”

  “I think Chad here was just about to leave,” I said.

  “No, it’s OK,” he said. “I’ll help.”

  As Chad and I crossed the street, I heard Hubert say, “That’s quite a flashlight.”

  “Two million candle power,” she said proudly. “I got it at Sears.”

  “Sorry you got roped into this,” I said to Chad when we reached the corner. I decided we’d work from one end of the block to the other.

  “It’s OK,” he said glumly.

  “Baxter,” I called out as we walked.

  “Baxter,” Chad repeated. His heart wasn’t in it. I could tell.

  We walked behind the houses first. When we got halfway down the block, Chad said, “Wait,” and held out an arm to stop me. “Do you hear that?”

  I heard it—the faint barking of a very small dog.

  “Is that him?”

  “Maybe.”

  We followed the noise to Ryan’s backyard. I hadn’t heard from him since I’d last seen him in his button mushroom stage. The house had looked empty from the front, but from here I could see a dim light in one of the upstairs bedrooms.

  “It’s coming from over there,” Chad said, pointing.

  “That’s Ryan’s garage.”

  “Ryan—the guy from the Thai restaurant?”

  “That’s the one.” If only it wasn’t so dark. I’d thought Belinda’s mega-flashlight was overkill, but I could have used it now.

  “I couldn’t stand that guy,” Chad said. “Does he have a dog?”

  “No.” Or at least not that I knew of.

  He went ahead of me, circling the garage until he reached the side entrance. “Baxter,” he said, pushing the door open. He flipped on the light switch, and I followed him. Just as my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I felt fur brush past my feet and out the door. I didn’t look down, though, because my eyes were too busy processing what else was in the garage. Parked right beside Ryan’s indigo Jaguar was Mindy’s Ford GT.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Turns out I had a good time at Mindy’s wedding reception after all. Maybe because she wasn’t there.

  After we found Mindy’s car in Ryan’s garage, Chad wanted to storm the house, and I wanted to smash the car windows, but when Hubert showed up he had a more sensible idea. He thought we should take Mindy’s car. Chad had a copy of her car keys, so I wrote a note, which I left on the windshield of the Jag—“Mindy and Ryan, come on over and visit when you get a chance! Love, Lola”—and then Hubert drove the Ford GT across the street and into my garage. Since we were none too quiet about the whole thing, it didn’t take long for Mindy to come marching up my driveway, pulling Ryan behind her. She decided, apparently, to act like the wronged party. Sizing up the situation, she screamed at Chad that he had no business following her. How dare he. Didn’t he trust her? Then she yelled at me for taking her car. She threatened to call the police and have me arrested. “That’s a felony, you know.”

  No, I was not aware that moving a car across a street was a felony.

  Through all of this, Ryan stood next to her without saying a word. I kept looking at him for signs of guilt or embarrassment or recognition or something, but there was nothing there.

  You’d think he didn’t know me at all. I felt humiliation and ange
r rising in my throat like bile, but it was tempered by a sort of relief. Looking at Chad’s face made me realize how much worse it could be. All I could think was, Thank God, he wasn’t really my fiancé. Thank God, I never had sex with him. I’d dodged that bullet.

  After Mindy calmed down, she claimed that the whole situation was completely innocent. The story was that she was interested in Ryan’s line of work and he was teaching her the ropes. All business. But none of us believed it. All you had to do was look at their faces and it was obvious—they’d been doing it.

  “No way I’m marrying you now, Mindy,” Chad said. “Just forget about it.”

  “We’ll discuss this later at home,” she said, flipping back her hair.

  “Nothing to discuss,” he said before getting in his car and driving away. It seemed I’d underestimated him.

  As much as I admired him that evening, I admired him even more later on when he stood his ground. Mindy had to move back in with our parents, who in turn had to call all the guests to tell them the wedding was off. My mother was able to cancel the photographer, the band, and the caterer, but the hall wouldn’t budge, and neither would the baker.

  When the long-range forecast for the wedding weekend showed rain, rain, and more rain, Hubert got the bright idea to have the block party indoors at Mindy’s hall and turn it into a dinner and dance. A sort of wedding reception without a bride and groom. My parents, who’d been footing the bill for the wedding, agreed to his plan when they heard they’d get their deposit back.

  Brother Jasper sought me out when the party began. He had to lean toward me so I could hear him above the music. “Miss Lola, I can’t thank you and Hubert enough for hosting tonight.”

  “No problem,” I said. “As it turns out, I wasn’t busy after all.”

  “Hubert said it was your idea to have a DJ and a cover charge.”

  “I thought of it, but I really didn’t do anything. Ben Cho was the one who came up with a DJ who’d work for free.”

  “And you brought food.” He gestured to a banquet table covered with various dishes and platters. One end was snack food—chips and salsa, pretzels, cheese, and sausage. The middle of the table consisted of slow cookers containing meatballs and chicken wings, while desserts dominated the other side—primarily cookie bars and brownies. A three-tiered wedding cake stood at the end, next to a sheet cake that was chocolate on chocolate. I’d smeared out the “Happy Birthday, Lola” on the sheet cake. The party was really for a sick little boy and his family. I could turn thirty anytime.

  “Just a few platters. Everyone else in the neighborhood brought food too.”

  “You decorated as well, I heard.”

  I waved my hand. “It was nothing. Just some balloons and a banner.” Hubert had helped with the banner. It said, “King Street Block Party.” And underneath that was written, “Get well soon, Derek!” We hung it over the entrance to the hall. Belinda said she’d give it to Derek when she visited him at the hospital on Sunday. “I did want to tell you, Brother Jasper, that I’m sorry I never got back to you this week.”

  “What’s that?” He smiled and cupped his hand over his ear.

  I raised my voice. “I never got back to you this week.” He still looked puzzled, so I tried again. “You had some cautionary tales to tell me?”

  “Oh.” His face registered comprehension. “I was going to warn you about Mr. Moriarty. But I heard you figured him out on your own.”

  Oh yes, I’m sure everyone on King Street had heard by now. “What in particular did you want to tell me?”

  Brother Jasper put his hand on my shoulder and leaned in. “I don’t want to muddy the man’s name, but I did hear he’s a player.”

  “He dates a lot of women?” The song was over now, and the DJ was taking a request from two little girls I’d never seen before. From the church, I guessed.

  He nodded. “Also he doesn’t have a job, from what I hear. His family has some sort of trust fund set up for him, but he’s always running out of money.” I was feeling better about this all the time. Sometimes events that seem devastating turn out for the best. Well, maybe devastating wasn’t quite accurate. Disappointing, anyway. Brother Jasper added, “And when he borrows from people, he doesn’t pay them back. I wanted to warn you.”

  “But he said he’s a consultant and travels all over the world for work.”

  “People say lots of things, Lola.”

  I nodded thoughtfully.

  “But wasn’t it odd,” Brother Jasper said, speaking into my ear now that the music started up again, “the way Belinda’s little dog was in that closed garage?” He shook his head as if puzzled. Before I could say anything, he smiled and excused himself to help a large woman who’d just walked in carrying a platter of ham sandwiches.

  We had a good turnout. Over the next several hours, I refilled the pretzel and chip bowls, helped reunite a lost toddler with his mother, restocked napkins, and still managed to dance so much my feet hurt. In between all that I greeted people I knew, some of whom I’d told about the party and others that Hubert had invited. Several of Hubert’s fourth graders came with their parents. I wondered if inviting students violated some kind of teacher code, but Hubert waved away my concerns. “It’s open to the public,” he said. “And we’re not serving alcohol.”

  Even though I’d encouraged them to come, I was surprised and pleased when Mrs. Kinkaid and Drew showed up. They came together but weren’t “together,” Drew assured me. Mrs. Kinkaid had me point out Hubert, who at that moment was dancing in the middle of a group of nine-year-olds. “Oh, he’s very cute,” she said. “You never said he was tall. And look at him with those kids.” She gave me an accusing look, as if I’d been withholding valuable information. “Since it didn’t work out with that other fellow, I think you should go out with this Hubert.”

  “You think so?”

  “Without a doubt. Did I ever tell you how Mr. Kinkaid and I started out as just friends? I had no interest in him romantically at all, until one day I did. And we had a very happy marriage.”

  I promised I’d consider it.

  Toward the end of the evening, Piper and Mike came up to tell me they were leaving and that they’d had a great time. She’d confided in me earlier that Mike hadn’t wanted to come at all, so the fact that they’d stayed was telling.

  “You throw a good party, Lola,” Mike said, shaking my hand. He’d always been weirdly formal with me.

  “Thanks, but it’s really not my party—it’s a neighborhood shindig. I’m just helping.”

  Piper gave me a hug. “Happy birthday,” she said quietly. “Are your folks upset you’re not spending it with them?”

  Earlier in the week my mom and I agreed to celebrate my big three-oh the following weekend. They were still busy with my sister, who tearfully insisted the whole thing was a misunderstanding. I could have set my parents straight, but after hashing it out with Hubert, I decided against it. One-upping my sister didn’t seem like that much fun anymore. “I think they’re pretty busy consoling Mindy, and I’ve been busy planning the block party. My birthday is taking a backseat for now.” My birthday was the least of anyone’s worries. Turned out that right after the garage incident Ryan took off for an extended business trip and still wasn’t back. Mindy tried to make amends with Chad, but he wasn’t caving. She even apologized to me, which was a first. Not that she admitted to anything specific. Actually, what she said was, “I’m sorry if I’ve caused you pain.” Not the greatest apology, but I gratefully accepted it anyway. She was new to the concept, and I could tell she was doing her best.

  “Now all we have to do is track down our kid, and we can leave,” Mike said, looking around.

  “Where is Brandon?” I asked. Piper had been holding him when they walked in the door, and I’d seen him earlier toddling around on the dance floor. Piper’s arms looked strangely empty without him.

  “Mrs. Olson has had him for most of the night,” Piper said. “She insisted.”

 
; “She’s the best babysitter. We can’t thank you enough, Lola, for helping us find her.” Mike gestured toward the opposite side of the room.

  I looked where he pointed to see Myra sitting on a chair next to the wall, Brandon perched on her lap. Despite the noise, the baby was asleep in her arms. “Myra’s been babysitting for you?”

  “I told you that,” Piper said.

  “She’s been great,” Mike said, putting his arm around Piper. “And Brandon loves her. Maybe now that we have someone reliable, I’ll actually get to spend some time with my wife.”

  Would wonders never cease?

  The party was officially over at eleven thirty, but at midnight there were a few stragglers left. Brother Jasper, who was the chauffeur of the evening, had driven two carloads home already and was back for a senior couple who didn’t drive at night but still liked to stay out late.

  “Thanks again, you two,” Brother Jasper called out to Hubert and me. I was folding up the tablecloth from the food table while Hubert stood on a chair taking down the banner.

  “No problem. Good night,” I said.

  “See you later,” Hubert added.

  We were the last two left, if you didn’t count the three young guys who were stacking chairs and moving tables.

  “Can we be done?” I asked, sinking into a seat. My feet throbbed. If anyone wanted the chair, they’d have to lift me with it.

  “Almost,” Hubert said, pulling up a chair next to me. “We just have to wait for the manager. I gave him the money for the bar bill, and he’s off printing up a receipt.”

  “A bar bill? That sounds expensive. I hope it doesn’t eat up all our profits.”

  “Nah, it’s all soft drinks. Plus, just between the two of us, I covered it myself. My little contribution for the evening.”

  I gave him a studied look. Maybe I stared for too long, because he looked uncomfortable and said, “What?”

  “You’re really something else, Hubert Holmes. You know that, right?”