Bet Me

  “I know.” Shanna sat down on the red barstool next to her breakfast bar and shoved back the yellow curtain she’d draped in the opening to reach for her Betty Boop cookie jar.

  “So you should pick somebody who makes you feel good.”

  Shanna opened the cookie jar and took out an Oreo. “I know.”

  “How many times have we had this talk?”

  “A thousand.” Shanna bit savagely into her cookie.

  “And every time, you abuse Elvis. That was a good song and you ran it into the ground. Sooner or later, you’re going to pay for that.”

  “I know,” Shanna said around her Oreo.

  “Pick something that has some fight to it,” Cal said. “There must be a pissed-off breakup song.”

  “I’ve always liked ‘I Will Survive,’ ” Shanna said, cheering up a little.

  “Oh, Christ.” Cal stood up. Behind him, Elvis began to sing “She” again. “Set him free, will you?”

  Shanna crossed to the bookcase and turned Elvis off. “They’re not mean when I meet them, you know.”

  “Remember your first date with Megan?” Cal said. “You introduced us in the hall?” Shanna nodded. “She apologized for your clothes. I would have bitch-slapped her then but she looked like she could take me.”

  “She had very high standards.”

  “She was a bitter, controlling snob,” Cal said. “You should have cut your losses after the first date.”

  “Is that what you did last night?” Shanna said.

  “Hell, yes,” Cal said.

  “Well, I can’t do that,” Shanna said, going back to her cookie jar. “I’m not like you. I have to give it a fair shot.”

  Cal sighed. “All right. Why did she leave?”

  Shanna’s face crumpled again. “She said I was too much of a doormat.”

  “Well, she wiped her feet on you often enough to know,” Cal said. Shanna burst into tears, and he went to her and put his arms around her. “Get mad at her, Shan. She was not a nice person.”

  “But I loved her!” Shanna wailed into his chest, spitting Oreo crumbs on his shirt.

  “No, you didn’t,” Cal said, holding her tighter. “You wanted to love her. It’s not the same thing. You only knew her a couple of weeks.”

  “It can happen like that.” Shanna looked up into his face. “You can just know.”

  “No,” Cal said. “You do not look at somebody, hear Elvis Costello singing ‘She’ on the soundtrack in your head, and fall in love. It takes time.”

  “Like you’d know.” Shanna pulled away and picked up her cookie jar. “Have you ever stayed with anybody long enough to love her?”

  “Hey,” Cal said, insulted.

  “That’s no answer,” Shanna said, retreating to her couch with her cookies. “Is that why you keep walking away so fast? Because at least I try.”

  “This is not about me,” Cal said.

  “I know, I know,” Shanna said, fishing out another Oreo. “God, I’m a mess. Want a cookie?”

  “No,” Cal said. “Get your act together and try again tomorrow. If you swing by the office, I’ll take you to lunch before you go to work.”

  “That would be nice,” Shanna said. “You’re a good person, Cal. Sometimes I wish you were a woman—”

  “Thank you,” Cal said doubtfully.

  “—and then I remember you have that commitment phobia and I’m glad you’re a guy. I have enough problems.”

  “This is true.” Cal put his hand on the doorknob. “Can I go home now?”

  “Sure,” Shanna said. “Take me someplace expensive tomorrow.”

  “I’ll take you to Emilio’s,” Cal said. “He needs the business and you like the pesto.”

  While Cal was trying to prop up Shanna, Min stopped by Emilio’s to pick up salad and bread.

  “Ah, the lovely Min!” he said when she tracked him down in his kitchen.

  “Emilio, my darling,” Min said. “I need salad and bread for three right now and a kickass wedding cake for two hundred three weeks from Sunday.”

  “Oh.” Emilio leaned against the counter. “My grandmother makes wedding cakes. They taste like . . .” He shut his eyes. “. . . heaven. Light as a feather.” He opened his eyes. “But they’re good, old-fashioned cakes, they don’t have marzipan birds or fondant icing.”

  “Could she make a cake and decorate it with fresh flowers?” Min said. “I can get some real pearls. Maybe if the cake is covered with real things instead of sugar imitations, people will be impressed.”

  “I don’t know,” Emilio said. “But what matters is how it tastes, and it will taste—”

  “Emilio, that’s sweet,” Min said, imagining Nanette’s reaction to that one. “Unfortunately, in this case, what matters is how it looks.”

  “How about this,” Emilio said. “I’ll see if she’ll do the cake. If she says yes, she’ll ice it plain, and you can put the flowers and the pearls on it.”

  “Me,” Min said doubtfully. “Well, not me, but Bonnie can do it, she has fabulous taste. It’s a deal. Call your grandma.”

  Emilio picked up the phone. “So you taking Cal to this wedding?”

  “I’m never seeing Cal again,” Min said.

  “God, you guys are dumb,” Emilio said as he punched the numbers into the phone. In a moment, his face brightened. “Norma?” he said and began to talk in Italian. The only word Min recognized was “Cal” which was worrying, but when Emilio hung up, he was smiling.

  “It’s all set,” he said. “I told her you were Cal’s girlfriend. She loves Cal.”

  “All women do.” Min kissed him on the cheek. “You are my hero.”

  “That’s the food,” Emilio said, and packed up bread and salad for three for her. Then she went home and walked up thirty-two steps to Bonnie’s apartment on the first floor.

  “So,” Liza said when she answered Bonnie’s door. “You want to explain last night?”

  “Can I come in first?” Min said, and slid past Liza into Bonnie’s bright, warm apartment.

  Bonnie had set her mission table with her Royal Doulton Tennyson china and a cut glass vase of grocery roses. It looked so pretty that Min thought, Okay, my apartment will never look this good, but I could set a better table. I could even cook. I could get my grandmother’s kitchen things out of the basement. It would be nice to do kitchen stuff like her grandmother had. Maybe bake cookies.

  That she couldn’t eat.

  Min sighed and put the Styrofoam boxes down on Bonnie’s table.

  “What’s that?” Bonnie said, poking at the Styrofoam.

  “The best salad you’ll ever eat, and even better bread,” Min said, and Bonnie went to get serving bowls.

  “Bread?” Liza said to Min. “You’re going to eat bread?”

  “No,” Min said. “I ate bread last night and then paid for it today. You’re going to eat bread, and I’m going to live vicariously.”

  Liza made a face as she pulled out one of Bonnie’s tall dining room chairs. “Like dessert. Stats, you—”

  “What did you bring?” Min said, dreading the answer.

  “Raspberry Swirl Dove Bars,” Liza said, as she sat down.

  “Rot in hell,” Min said, pulling out her own chair. “Why can’t you ever bring fruit?”

  “Because fruit is not dessert,” Liza said. “Now explain to us why you left the bar with Calvin Morrisey last night.”

  Min shoved the bread box Liza’s way. “David bet him ten bucks he couldn’t get me into bed in a month.” She watched them freeze in place, Bonnie with a platter of chicken and vegetables in her hands, Liza opening the bread.

  “You are kidding me,” Liza said, her face dangerous with anger.

  “I let him pick me up because I had a plan to get a date to the wedding, and then I realized I couldn’t put up with that smarmy charm for three weeks, so I ate an excellent dinner and left.”

  Bonnie’s face crumpled. “Oh, honey, that’s awful.”

  “No,” Min said
. “Let’s forget Cal Morrisey and eat. I want to talk about Diana. She’s not happy.”

  “Wet and Worse.” Liza gave Min a look that said they’d be talking about Cal again soon. “They’d bring anybody down.”

  Min closed her eyes. “Do not call them that. I almost called Susie Wet this afternoon at the fitting. She looked like she was about to sob through the whole thing.”

  “Well, that’s understandable,” Bonnie said, sympathy in her voice. She put the platter in the middle of the table and sat down, too.

  Liza dumped the bread into a bowl. “Maybe Di shouldn’t have asked Wet to be a bridesmaid. That’s almost cruel.”

  “It would be worse not to be asked,” Bonnie said. “Is that why she’s upset, Min?”

  “I think it’s Greg,” Min said, starting on her salad, “but she won’t admit it. He’s the one who forgot to order the wedding cake.”

  “Whoa,” Liza said. “This is a man who’s resisting his own wedding. And let’s face it, your mother and Diana railroaded him into it.”

  “He proposed on his own,” Bonnie said.

  “I think he wanted a longer engagement,” Min said. “But he said yes when they set the date. He’s not incapable of speech. He could have said ‘No.’ ”

  “To Nanette and Diana?” Liza said as she started on her salad. “Fat chance. Worse will do a kind deed before Greg will grow a spine. Now you talk about Calvin Morrisey and this damn bet. We want to know everything.”

  Half an hour later, the salad was gone, the leftover chicken was in the refrigerator, and Bonnie was unwrapping a Dove Bar as Min finished her recap of the evening.

  “At least he walked you home,” Bonnie said. “That was nice.” She sounded doubtful.

  “Yes. And then he hit me in the head, said, ‘Have a nice life,’ and left me,” Min said. “I didn’t like him, you guys don’t like him, and he didn’t like me. I think that’s a perfect score.”

  “I think that whole good-bye thing is a trick,” Liza said around a mouthful of Dove Bar. “I think he’s putting you off guard, and he’ll be back. If you’re not careful, he’ll charm you into bed and break your heart.”

  Min frowned at her in exasperation. “How naïve do I look? I know about the bet. Anyway, I have a new plan.”

  “Oh, good,” Liza said. “Because you don’t have enough plans.”

  Min ignored her. “I was listening to Elvis singing ‘Love Me Tender’ last night, and it occurred to me that if he’d been reincarnated, he’d be about twenty-seven now, and I’m open to younger men. Statistically, the most successful marriages are those in which the woman is eight years older than the man. So I’ve decided to wait for Elvis to find me.”

  “You’d only be six years older,” Bonnie said.

  “Yes, but it would be Elvis, so I’d try harder,” Min said.

  “Why Elvis?” Liza said.

  “Because he always tells the truth when he sings. Elvis is the only man in my life I can trust.”

  “So let me get this straight,” Lisa said, pointing with her half-eaten Dove Bar. “Bonnie is waiting for a fairy tale character to make her life complete, and you’re holding out for the reincarnation of a guy who ate fried banana sandwiches.”

  “Yep,” Min said, and Liza shook her head.

  “I might have found my prince,” Bonnie said. “Roger’s good.”

  “Roger?” Min asked, trying not to watch Liza consume her Dove Bar.

  “We picked up the beast’s friends last night,” Liza said around her ice cream. “Bonnie got the one that walks upright.”

  “Roger is a sweetheart,” Bonnie said. “I’m thinking of breaking my date Saturday night and going out with him instead. I’ll wait and see how Friday night with him works out.”

  “He asked you out?” Min said, relieved to be off the subject of Cal. “Tell all.”

  “He asked her out for every night for the rest of her life,” Liza said. “He’s blind for her.”

  “That’s nice.” Min picked a last salad leaf out of her bowl to compensate for her lack of sugar. “So he has potential, Bon?”

  “Maybe.” Bonnie came as close to frowning as she ever did. “I think if I keep seeing him for a couple of weeks and it’s working, I’ll take him home to Mama and let her scope him out.”

  Min raised her eyebrows. “You think he’ll cross three states to meet your mother after two weeks?”

  “He would cross the Andes to get her a toothpick,” Liza said. “It’s pathetic.”

  “No, it’s not.” Bonnie frowned over her ice cream stick. “It’s sweet. And he thinks Cal is great, which is confusing.”

  “So Bonnie met a good one,” Min said to Liza, ignoring the Cal reference. “Who’d you get?”

  “The village idiot,” Liza said. “He also thinks Cal is the man. They’re like the Three Stooges. Only not funny.”

  “The Three Stooges aren’t funny,” Bonnie said.

  “Too true,” Min said. “Are you seeing the idiot again?”

  “Yes.” Liza licked the last of her ice cream off the stick. “I think your beast is coming back, and my idiot babbles nicely when I ask him questions. Plus, there is a bartender who lives next door to the beast with whom I must bond.”

  “Well, don’t ask questions for me,” Min said. “Calvin Morrisey is not part of my future.”

  “He will be tomorrow night,” Bonnie said. “He’ll be at The Long Shot with Roger and Tony.”

  Min shook her head. “Then I’ll stay home.”

  “No,” Bonnie said, stricken. “We don’t have to go there. We’ll go somewhere else so you can come, too.”

  “And make you miss Roger?” Min reconsidered. “No. Not even I am selfish enough to cross True Love. I’ll go. I want to see this Roger up close anyway.”

  “Are you sure Cal made that bet?” Bonnie said.

  “I was standing right there,” Min said. “I heard it. With my own ears. He said, ‘Piece of cake.’ ” That rankled more than anything.

  “Because Roger thinks the world of him,” Bonnie said. “He told me all about him, about the three of them. It’s kind of sad. They met in summer school when they were in the third grade. Roger said he was a slow thinker, and Tony didn’t care about school, and Cal was dyslexic, so everybody thought they were dumb.”

  “Cal’s dyslexic?” Min said, surprised.

  “Tony is dumb,” Liza said at the same time.

  “No,” Bonnie said, with the heavy patience that meant “back off.” “Tony is not dumb. When he cares, he’s very smart. And Roger isn’t dumb, either, he’s just very methodical, you can’t hurry him. He’s like my uncle Julian.”

  “Oh, God,” Liza said to the ceiling. “He’s like family. I will bet you anything that Roger is her If this week.”

  “I don’t bet,” Min said. “Bonnie? What’s your If?”

  Bonnie stuck her chin out. “If Roger turns out to be as sweet as I think he is, I’m going to marry him.”

  “Oh, good grief,” Liza said.

  “Leave her alone,” Min said to Liza. “She gets whatever If she wants. What’s yours?”

  Liza straightened. “If my job doesn’t get any more interesting, I’m quitting next week.”

  “Get the calendar,” Min said to Bonnie.

  “I don’t have to,” Bonnie said. “It was August when she quit the last time because she said nobody should work in a heat wave.”

  “Ten months,” Min said. “That’s not good. Her attention span is getting shorter.”

  “It’s an If,” Liza said to Min. “I’m keeping an eye on my options. I think I might want to waitress again if I can find someplace fun. What’s your If?”

  Min thought of Cal Morrisey, and her head began to throb. “If I can find the reincarnation of Elvis, I’ll date again. Until then, I’m taking a break from inter-gender socialization. It’s just too painful.”

  “I am the only sane woman in this room,” Liza said.

  “Sanity is overrated,” Min said, a
nd went home to get an aspirin.

  The next night, Cal was back at The Long Shot, as far away from the landing as possible to give himself a wide escape path. Roger was ten feet away, looking at Bonnie as if she were the center of the universe. Bonnie was looking at Roger as if he were a very nice man she didn’t know very well. Cal shook his head. Watching Roger date was like watching a toddler in traffic.

  Tony sat down beside Cal and slid his Scotch over. “I think you should go for it,” he said, nodding toward the bar.

  “What?” Cal looked past Bonnie, to see a tall, slender redhead. Tony’s Liza. Then she shifted and he saw Min standing behind her, draped in a loose red sweater. It had some kind of hood hanging down the back, and Roger tugged on it and said something that made her smile. “Great.” Now he’d have to put up with Min slanging at him for another evening.

  “It’s not like you to stare and not do anything about it,” Tony said. “You are losing it.”

  “I was watching Roger and Bonnie,” Cal said.

  “Oh.” Tony looked over at Roger and shrugged. “Yep, he’s a goner. Well, we all gotta die sometime.”

  “Yeah, you’re the guy I want watching my back,” Cal said.

  “Well, what are you gonna do?” Tony looked past him and straightened. “What the hell? Where do they think they’re going?”

  Cal turned back to see the four of them commandeer a poker table on the other side of the bar. “Not here,” he said, cheering up. Evidently Min had had as bad a time as he’d had. Which was her own fault because she was impossible to please. God knew he’d tried. Well, except for clipping her there at the end.

  She sat down beside Liza, and he watched her as she leaned back and stretched out her black-clad legs. Her legs were pretty good, strong full calves, sturdy, like Min in general.

  “She’ll be over here in five minutes,” Tony said.

  “Ten bucks says she won’t,” Cal said, turning back to his Glenlivet.

  “You’re on,” Tony said. “She wants me.”

  “You?” Cal said, startled. “Oh, you mean Liza.” He looked back at the redhead who was laughing with Min and giving no evidence whatsoever that she knew Tony existed. “Nope, she won’t, either.”

  “Oh, you were talking about the chub?” Tony said.