“It is so true. I always babysat him. She never did.”
“Well, she was always on a date or at a party or something. You never left home.” That last part kind of slipped out.
Mindy’s pale pixie face turned evil, her lips curling upward. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Where the hell is our waitress—”
“What did you mean by that?”
“I. Starving.”
“He didn’t mean anything. Let’s eat and find a hotel,” Mary said.
“I went out. I had friends.”
“I know you did.” Then, since the hole I was digging apparently wasn’t quite deep enough, I said, “You and Karen emphasized different things, that’s all.”
“What does that mean? Different things?”
“Just drop it,” Mary said.
“Well, she liked athletics, for example, and you loved animals.”
“Okay, here come the hamster jokes again.”
“I never said anything about the hamsters. You know, we’re all tired right now.…”
“You never let me have a dog. All I got were the stupid hamsters.”
“We couldn’t have a dog because of Ethan, you know that. That would have been a bad combination. And those hamsters were great, they were great. I mean that. I miss them. Lassie, Benji, Lassie-Who-Won’t-Die. That one lived forever, remember that one? It just wouldn’t die.” I looked hopefully across the table at Ethan. “Do you have to go to the bathroom?”
“No.” He had gotten ahold of Mary’s phone and was punching numbers.
“Are you sure? I can take you. You had a lot of water at the water plant.”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Shut. Up. Idiot.”
“I wish this fucking place served booze,” Mindy said. “Why are we here?”
“Watch the language. And there’s nothing wrong with Cracker Barrel,” I said. “Their food is actually pretty good. And he likes to browse the store; they have a lot of knickknacks.”
“You mean they have a lot bullshit. This whole restaurant is built on bullshit. They should call it the Bullshit Barrel.”
“Hey, watch the language,” I said again. “We don’t need him picking up on any new words.”
“I just want a glass of wine. Today was nuts.”
“I think you could use a break from the booze,” I said.
“Okay, Dean Martin.”
“Where. Karen. Be?”
“Good question. Where is she?” I asked.
“Who gives a shit?” Mindy said. With that, she stormed off toward the Old Country Store, the very epicenter of bullshit.
I watched her leave. “We raised a couple of sweet angels, you know that? Yes, sir, we did something right. Nothing but love in those girls. Nothing but love.”
“Where. Mindy. Be?”
“Maybe the girls should just go home,” Mary said.
“Come on. We had a bad day, that’s all. Things will get better. We’ll have dinner, find a nice hotel, maybe all go for a swim, maybe go out for ice cream. It’ll be fine.”
“Everything will always be okay,” she said.
“It will be.”
“Wish I had your attitude.” She went back to her menu.
“Hey, I’ll lend it to you. You can have it for a week.”
Mary shook her head, but smiled a little.
I was giving serious consideration to reaching for her hand when my phone went off. Rita. God damn her!
“Who’s that?”
I fumbled to turn it off. “Sal.”
“Aren’t you going to get it?”
“I don’t want to talk to him. I’ll call him later.”
“Let me talk to him then.”
“Sal! Me. Talk!”
“No, not now. We’re eating. We’ll call him later.”
Ethan made a grab for my phone. “Sal!”
I jammed my phone in my pocket. “No! We’re eating.”
“We’re not eating,” Mary said.
The girls miraculously saved me by marching back into the restaurant like a pair of Imperial Stormtroopers. Mindy sat down, pulling her chair close to the table, but Karen remained standing.
“You taking our order or what?” Mindy asked.
“I’m meeting someone,” Karen said.
“What?” I asked. “Who?”
“I have a friend here from college, Donna Schrader, and I’m meeting up with her for dinner. She just called.”
“Here?” Mary asked. “I don’t even know where we are.”
“You have a friend in Fredericksburg?” I asked.
“Yes. She was a DG, and we’re meeting up at a place in town. So, can I have the car?”
“I thought we could all eat together,” I said.
“I’ve had enough family time today,” Karen said. “There’s a Hampton Inn five miles from here. They have rooms. There’s no Marriott. I’ll meet you back there later tonight.”
“How late are you going to be?” Mary asked.
“I don’t know.” She turned to me. “Can I take the other van, the rental?”
“Ask your mother.”
Mary studied Karen, her face impassive, Buddha-like. “Don’t be too late. We have another long day tomorrow.”
Karen snatched the keys from the table, and left.
“Where? Karen. Be?”
“She’ll be back,” Mary said.
“That’s strange,” I said. “Who the hell is this Donna?”