These Foolish Things (11 page)

Ty raised himself on his elbows, still smiling and laughing
quietly. “Tell me,” he finally said, “When I plowed into you in that softball
game, did I hit you as hard?”

“Harder maybe. I had my gear on.” Liz gestured to Beanie.
“Jack the Tripper there seems pleased with himself.” She held out a hand to Ty,
who sat up without her help and leaned against the wall next to Liz. She
reflected that, although she’d really enjoyed being tangled up with him,
apparently the pleasure wasn’t mutual. Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted.

She withdrew her hand and covered up her awkwardness by
picking up the dropped menu. “I like this place a lot. Food’s great, they cook
with natural gas, so a power outage doesn’t affect them and,” Liz sneezed,
“they make a powerful won ton soup.” She sneezed again.

“Since Beanie didn’t make a break for it,” she continued,
“dinner’s on me. I really don’t know how to repay you for everything you’ve
done today.” Liz handed Ty the menu.

He gave her another unreadable look as he accepted the menu.
“I hope your land line works,” he said, “My cellular service isn’t working
right now. I think it’s the rain. You don’t have to thank me. If I didn’t want
to drive you home, I wouldn’t have.”

Liz was flustered, “But you must have had plans or had to be
somewhere or with someone.” This last hurt to say.

Ty frowned slightly. “No. No plans. My date cancelled. She
was grounded for coming home too late on a school night,” he said mockingly.

Liz buried her face in her hands, listening to him chuckle.
She could feel herself flushing brick red. “God, am I ever sorry I said
anything.” Her voice was muffled. Ty hauled himself to his feet, then held out
a hand to Liz.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ve had worse things said to me.
Besides,” he said as he pulled Liz to her feet, “it’s a lot of fun to rake you
over the coals about it. You blush very nicely. Like you’re doing right now,” he
teased. She ducked her head.

They headed for the candlelit dining room. Ty seated Liz in
one of the chairs and pondered the menu. Beanie jumped into an empty chair near
the humans, only his head showing over the edge of the table. “So, even on a
lousy night like this one, these guys will deliver?”

Liz nodded, seizing on the change of subject. “Yeah. The
Lins are not easily deterred. I’ve seen Fred out in even worse weather than
this.”

Ty shot her a look. “Fred Lin? The guy who owns the Chinese
restaurant is named Fred Lin?”

Liz smiled, “No, his son is named Fred. Fred makes the
deliveries.”

Ty was curious. “Is that just a coincidence? Father’s from
the old country and just happened to name his son Fred?” Liz laughed as she
looked at Ty. He relaxed, watching her and smiling.

“Not unless you consider Saugus the old country,” Liz
finally said, still laughing. “Roger Lin is the biggest Red Sox fan I have ever
met. I don’t know how he persuaded Celia to name their son Frederick Carl Lin,
but she went along with it. Notice the name? “Green Dragon Wall”? Green Monster
didn’t sound Chinese enough. Celia drew the line at naming a dish ‘Yankees Go Home’.”

Ty was laughing as he listened. He picked up the menu, still
chuckling.

“You know, Counselor, you’ve got some of the damndest
stories I’ve ever heard,” he said. They decided on a few items, including a
double dose of soup. Since the only light was from candles, it was necessary
for them to put their heads close together to both be able to read the menu.
Liz could smell the soap on him from his shower. It was almost more than she
could take. Another big crack of thunder and she nearly threw herself into his
arms.

“Okay, we’ve got a plan,” Ty finally said. “Now we need a
phone. And I’m buying dinner,” he added with authority.

“No, I lost the bet. Beanie didn’t try to escape,” Liz
stated with equal authority as she looked hard at Beanie. He didn’t care.

“He stuck his nose past the edge of the step and thought
about it very hard,” Ty answered as he, too, tried to give Beanie a severe
look, “It’s an escape attempt. End of discussion. Now where’s the phone?”

“Kitchen,” said Liz. She handed him a candle. “Here. I
forgot where I left my flashlight.”

Ty rose and pointed his free hand at Liz. “Just sit. I’ll
take care of this.” He headed for the kitchen. Liz listened to him placing the
order and after he gave the address, she heard him say, “A what? I don’t know, let
me ask.” Liz?” Ty called from the kitchen, “What’s a Beanie Box and do we want
one?”

“Oh! Yes! I forgot! We need a Beanie Box!” Liz called back.
This seemed to get Beanie’s interest and he jumped up on the table to walk over
and sniff Liz’s face. “Down. Now.” He got back into his seat.

Ty returned to the table, two beer bottles in one hand and
the candle in the other. He passed one bottle to Liz and seated himself. “Fred
says ‘hi’ and that it’ll be about a half-hour.” Ty raised his bottle. “Happy
Birthday to me,” he said softly.

“What?” Liz was stunned.

He looked at her. “It’s true. Today’s my birthday. Here,” He
showed her his driver’s license. The date matched.

Liz stared. “My God. Why aren’t you at a party or spending
the evening with friends?”

Ty shrugged as he put away the wallet. “No friends to throw
a party.”

“What about…” she groped for the Silicone Queen’s real name,
“your girlfriend?”

Ty was puzzled. “What girlfriend?”

“The blonde I saw at the game.”

“Ah.” Ty didn’t look her in the eyes. “Cheryl. She’s not my
girlfriend. I spend time with her, but, well…she’s…she’s just a…convenience.”

Liz didn’t know what to say. Part of her was jubilant he
wasn’t emotionally involved with the other woman and part was crushed at his
loneliness. She tentatively reached a hand toward his, stopped herself and
covered with a clumsy attempt at lightness, “Ah, well since it’s your birthday,
you get the biggest sparerib.”

Ty chuckled, still looking downward, then looked at Liz,
headed cocked to one side. “You know, Counselor, in this light, without all the
hairspray and war paint, you look like you’re about 17 years old,” he mused,
“Makes me feel like a dirty old man, especially today.”

Liz smiled and shook her head slightly, ignoring the thrill
his remark gave her, “17, huh? Must be the light or your eyesight should be
checked because that age is well behind me now, but thank you.”

Ty sipped his beer. “Actually, I had my eyes checked a month
ago and this light is just fine. No complaints about the view. Here,” He gently
took her chin in his head.

Liz hardly breathed as he studied her face. “Your eye healed
up nicely. I never got a good look at them before. Very blue, very pretty.” She
felt him rub his thumb against her chin and caught her breath. “Lovely smooth
skin, too. For someone who doesn’t think she’s beautiful…”

Liz ducked her head. “That’s the beauty of candlelight. It
softens the flaws.” She nerved herself up. “I don’t have any complaints about
my view, either.” She looked away quickly, fearing the possible scorn she might
see on his face. This was getting into dangerous territory.

Ty put his beer bottle on the table and regarded Beanie.
“So, Counselor, what’s the story with your little friend there? Where did you
find him?”

Liz looked at Beanie with affection. “I didn’t find him. He
found me.”

“Come again?” Ty asked.”

“I was in the city waiting for a cab and I had a few bags
with me, including a duffel bag,” Liz began. She omitted certain details she
viewed as non-essential. “This scrawny, filthy little animal comes sidling up
to me, stands with his butt next to my leg and starts whacking me with his
tail, just looking into my face and purring. I petted him, because he seemed to
be nice enough and the cab arrived. I didn’t pay any attention to the cat
because I was trying to get my stuff loaded in the cab. I’d been pretty sick
and it was a lot of effort just to get everything settled. I got home and he
jumped out of the duffel bag. He lined his butt up next to my leg and started
whacking me with his tail again. Millie says that the animal kingdom has me
pegged as a sucker.” Liz shrugged apologetically, “I’ve taken in a few strays.
I couldn’t throw the little guy out after he’d gone to all that work. He looked
like he needed a little TLC and a good home,” Liz laughed softly. “What is it
Millie said? ‘Gardner, you are a sucker for a furry face and a hard luck
story.’”

Ty laughed at that. Liz continued, “He’s been here ever
since that day. Despite escape attempts and a raging obsession with squirrels,
he’s been a great pet and a good friend.” She looked at Ty. “And that’s
Beanie’s story.”

Ty reached over and petted Beanie’s head. “He is a nice cat.”
Beanie held up his chin for scratching and Ty obliged. “What were you so sick
with?”

Liz tried to deflect the question with a joke. “Dutch Elm
disease,” she said lightly. “Comes from spending too much time around
tree-hugging Wiccans.”

Ty looked at her, face expressionless. “Uh huh. Hey, if you
don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I respect your wishes.” He drank some more
beer. “Can we get some music?”

Liz felt like she’d just insulted him. She still wasn’t sure
what his motives were for being here and she wasn’t going unburden herself to a
man she hardly knew. Something in her heart said that Ty could handle the
truth. All of it. However, her brain overruled it and Liz busied herself with
finding a good radio station on the boom box. “What’s your pleasure?” she asked
Ty without looking at him.

She didn’t hear his reply because the radio crackled out
with, “I want to know the name of the guys on the St. Louis team. Who’s the guy
on first base?” Liz looked at Ty, who nodded, and they spent the next few
minutes listening to Abbott and Costello and “Who’s On First?” Liz noticed that
Ty was mouthing the words along with the radio.

“That’s one of the college stations. One of the DJs plays
classic comedy on Saturday nights. During the Series, he was playing
‘Shakespearian Baseball,’ which is a riot,” Liz explained.

Ty nodded, “I know it well. One of my Dad’s favorites.” He
gestured at the radio. “So was Abbott and Costello. I’d watch the movies with
him.”

“I see,” said Liz. “Are you close?”

Ty looked at her, “No, never met Bud and Lou.”

Before she could protest, he cut her off, “I know what you
meant. He’s gone, has been for years and no, we weren’t all that close. Tell
you the truth, he was a workaholic bastard and a mean drunk. He came drunk to
some of my Little League games. Said he’d had to entertain clients. He’d tell
me to enjoy ‘that shit’ as a kid because it was all work as a man and twice as
much when you married. Men made the money and women spent it, he said. My
mother left when I was 15,” Ty’s voice was flat, but Liz could sense the pain.
“She woke me up one night to kiss me goodbye and promised she’d come back for
me. She never did.” Ty looked down, eyes on a candle flame. “My father got sole
custody and I never heard from her until after he died.” Liz waited, her eyes
never leaving his face. Ty continued.

“My father died the day I graduated from high school. I’d
called to remind him and he’d yelled at me. ‘Where do you think your goddamn
tuition for your fancy-ass college is coming from? Maybe your mother, the
whore, will show up.’ And he hung up. The office cleaning lady found his body
still at his desk with the phone in his hand and an order ticket for the big
deal he’d just made all filled out. Aneurysm.”

Liz wanted to wrap her arms around Ty and just hold him, but
she couldn’t. He wasn’t hers to handle. She started to reach a hand towards
his, but stopped herself.

“My parents were no picnic, either,” Liz offered quietly. Ty
looked at her. “They had a kind of hostile, silent relationship with each other
and they weren’t terribly warm and nurturing with me, either. I felt like a
prisoner of war.

“Till the day she died, I always felt like my mother was
disappointed with everything in her life and especially me. I got my taste in
music from her. She’d listen to those old ‘man that got away’ torch songs by
the hour. They may have been more than just a song.”

“Oh?” asked Ty. He had his head propped up in one hand as he
listened.

“After she died,” Liz offered, “I was cleaning out her
sewing basket and found a packet of letters to her from some guy.”

Ty’s eyebrows went up. “Do you think she was cheating on
your father?”

Liz shook her head. “No, they were all dated before my
parents married. The letter on top of the stack told her that he was marrying
Michelle and he didn’t want to hear from my mother anymore.” Liz could hear her
father as she said this, screaming at her mother, “Jesus Christ, Delia! He
never wanted you; I did! Would it kill you to show me a little affection now
and then?” Liz buried the memory and continued.

“I wanted to be a writer when I grew up, but she kept
telling me I needed to be practical, that a writer must be extraordinary in
order for people to want to buy their work. I won a state-wide contest when I
was in school. Mom told me I shouldn’t get my hopes up. And boys didn’t like
girls who were smarter than they were.”

I was never pretty enough or thin enough or popular enough
for her.” Liz could feel the ache from the raw memory.

“Your mother didn’t think you were pretty?” Ty was
incredulous. “Was she blind?” In a quieter voice, he asked, “or jealous?”

The compliment caught Liz off-guard. She bit her lip and
said nothing.

Ty asked, “What about your father?”

“I don’t think he saw me as a girl. I never could get away
with the big eyes and sweet face to get what I wanted. He’d get so angry.” She
could see, hear and feel it again. Liz blinked back some tears. “He was volatile.
I never knew what would set him off.”

“Did he hit you?”