“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Thelma and Louise,” I said.
They remained silent, staring straight ahead, heads not moving.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” I said. “We just had brunch with Manny. He sends his regards. ‘Hola, muchachas bonitas’ were his exact words. I hope you don’t mind, but I gave him your home addresses. He’s goes to New York a lot on business, he said.”
More silent staring.
“You guys come straight from the health club? Get a good workout in? You seem tired. Hey, where’s your mother? Did she work out with you?”
“I’m over here.” I turned just as Mary walked up, bags in tow. She was still wearing that cheerful little dress and had, I noticed, a slight spring to her step, a perky spark in her eyes. I found this interesting, if not encouraging. There was no Valium in that woman’s system, at least not this morning. “Ready to hit the road?” she asked.
“Hope so. Our teenagers’ binge threw us off schedule though, so we’re going to have to make tracks, limit our throw-up breaks. Do either of you have airsick bags? Might save some time.”
“We’re right here, Dad,” Mindy said. “You don’t have to yell.”
“I’m hardly yelling.” I, of course, was talking very loudly, enjoying the pain and torment each decibel inflicted. “And remember, we’re in one van now, so get ready for a commercial-free Stinky Bear marathon. And let’s not forget the new Red Bear reality show, Hard of Hearing! Everyone talks really loud in it.”
“Oh, fuck,” Mindy said.
“Hey, watch the words, please,” Mary said, motioning to Ethan.
“I just remembered, I think I left Red Bear at the bar last night.”
“What?” I stopped with the mocking. “What are you talking about? You think you left Red Bear at that bar? What bar, that tequila place? That place?”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure I left her in the bathroom, I think. Or somewhere.”
“You think?”
“You were dancing with her on the bar,” Karen said.
“I was?”
“You were?”
“Yeah, then you threw her to that guy. Remember? That guy who bet you wouldn’t take your shirt off?”
“I did?”
“You did?”
The cavalier way they were discussing the abuse and abandonment of Red Bear outraged me. “What is wrong with you? Why did you even bring her there?”
Mindy shrugged. “She wanted to come.”
“She’s not your bear. You had no right to do that.” I eyed Ethan, not sure how much of this he was taking in, worried how he may react. He was picking his nails, unconcerned; he’d never thought all that much of Red Bear.
“We have to get her.” I checked my watch. “It’s eleven thirty. The place is probably open now.”
“John, it’s just a bear,” Mary said. “You just said we’re running behind. We’ll buy another one.”
“Another one? What are you talking about, another one? We can’t leave Red Bear. That’s Ethan’s bear. He’ll be asking for it. He needs his bear. That bear is important. What kind of people do that, leave bears?”
I felt everyone’s eyes on me, but I remained steadfast. I admit, my attachment to the bears was probably fodder for a therapist, but I didn’t care. For years they had been an important part of our lives, had helped me through some long days, and we weren’t about to leave any one of them, even Red Bear, the Ringo Starr of the group. “Go over there and get him. Her.”
“You’re kidding,” Karen said.
“‘No Bear Left Behind,’ that’s our policy,” I said. “I mean it. Those bears are … are family.”
“Family?” Karen repeated.
“Just, go, go!”
Both girls emitted sighs and heaved themselves up and out of the big chairs.
“Take Ethan with you.”
“What?” Karen said.
“Take him with you. He’ll keep an eye on you.”
Mindy groaned. “I cannot believe this. Come on, dude-man.”
Ethan looked up from his nails, confused and alarmed. “Where. Going? What. Doing?”
“We’re Saving Private Red Bear,” Mindy said. “Come on.”
I watched them leave, Ethan walking between his sisters, holding their hands. The girls took baby steps, their feet barely leaving the ground, shuffling more than walking. I heard Ethan ask, “Why. Mad?”
“They’re acting like they’re fifteen,” I said.
“They’re just blowing off some steam together,” Mary said. “Hey, I’m going to get some coffee. Why don’t you get your things and meet me at the restaurant.”
“Coffee?” I turned around and that was when I saw Mary’s smile, big and sweet. Exactly why she was smiling, I wasn’t sure. It may have been the bears; for years, I suspected, she secretly got a kick out of my devotion to them. It may have been the girls; she too was glad they were reconnecting. Or maybe, just maybe, she finally realized she was as in love with me as I was with her. (Note: that last one might have been a stretch.) Regardless, if she was happy, then I was happy. “Coffee? Absolutely. Yeah, just give me a few minutes,” I said, and hurried off.