“Oh, I don’t know. I think Harold has a way of getting even.”
Sam eyed me curiously, so I explained about the doctor’s note. “Hopefully, Harold knows he’s better than the rest of them. He’s the only one I get along with, actually. Thank God I don’t work there a lot.”
“I ran into Kat recently, and she mentioned that you do her father’s dental billing. How do you like that?” Samantha faced forward, her eyes focused on something across the street.
I couldn’t discern what was commanding her complete attention. Was she staring at the gigantic Hood Milk bottle, which is actually a snack shop, in front of the Children’s Museum?
I wondered if Kat had “accidentally” bumped into Sam. Actually, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she had. As a way to suss out her competition, it was both cute and frustrating.
“I wasn’t thrilled with the idea when her father proposed it. I guess I felt pushed into it.” I wasn’t sure why I had answered her honestly. “But it’s easy money. I’m actually getting caught up on my bills with the money I make from Beantown, so this will only help. I mean, I can’t quit any of my jobs just yet. That will take some time, but I can breathe a little easier.” Saying this out loud to a friend was a relief. Money trouble was such a burden. It weighed on me all the time.
“Times are tough. My company announced they are laying off five hundred people next week. I’m terrified.” We still walked arm-in-arm and Sam patted my arm with her free hand. “I would be able to last a few months without a job, but not much longer than that.”
The confession shocked the hell out of me. Here I thought Samantha had it made. Now I knew the truth.
“I’m so sorry. When will you know?”
“All next week will be a nightmare. My company has devised this brilliant method of informing people. When entering our building, we have to swipe our ID to get in. Each day, they will deactivate the badges of the employees they are laying off, and someone from HR will be standing by when an employee’s ID doesn’t work to talk to them in a private room downstairs. Next week is going to be hell.”
“Jesus! That sounds barbaric. Is that even legal? It’s not just the fear, what about the embarrassment?” I couldn’t believe what she was telling me. I was suddenly relieved to have my jobs; at least they felt secure. All of a sudden, I appreciated Beantown Café and dental billing.
“Oh, I’m sure they ran it by legal. The bastards!” For the first time, I heard venom in her voice. Then her body language softened. “But let’s not talk about it. It’s Friday, and Harold has a date. Let’s focus on the good. Hey, I’m going to the Sox game tomorrow if you want to join me. I have an extra ticket.”
Damn my father and his surprise visit. “Thanks, but my father invited me earlier today.” I hoped my voice didn’t register my disappointment at not going with her.
“Great! We can meet there.”
“Well, we aren’t sitting in a box. He has season tickets in the bleachers.” During one of her visits to the coffee shop, Sam mentioned her company had box seats at Fenway.
“Same here. Not me, but my uncle. He hardly ever goes now, and I usually go several times a year. Our whole family, I mean aunts, uncles, cousins, second-cousins—we all fight over who can go and when.”
“How do you think our chances are this year? Will we win the series?” Both of us slowed our pace, eager to continue the conversation.
Excitement returned to Sam’s face. Kat didn’t get sports, or why people become such fanatic supporters, but here’s what I got about sports:
(a) Sports bring people together.
(b) When life is tough, a person still has their team.
(c) They always provide distraction from what’s going on in life. [I know this sounds a lot like B, but it isn’t completely, so I’m sticking with it.]
(d) Teams always give people something to talk about with another fan. It’s an instant bond that only fans can possess. Red Sox fans rarely discuss the weather when there’s a lull in the conversation.
“I have my fingers crossed. At least this season is better than last. They were dreadful last year, just dreadful.” The color drained from her face.
The restaurant was in sight, and Samantha pulled on my arm to get me to stop walking.
“Before we go in, I have something to say.”
I wasn’t sure where she was going, and I was a little unnerved. Was she going to confess she liked me?
“Sure. What’s up?” I said in a voice filled with dread.
“My cousin is a dentist, and he’s looking for someone to do his billing. Would you be interested?”
Relief flooded through me. I thought for sure she had been going to say, “Hey, you know I like you, right? Leave Kat, and we’ll be happy together.”
“Really?” How could I say no? It was easy money, and it was awfully sweet of her to ask around for me. Minutes ago she had been talking about her company’s layoffs, and now she was helping me with my money woes. “Yeah, that sounds great.”
“Cool. I wasn’t sure if you’d be offended.” She handed me her cousin’s card. “Call him on Monday. He’s ready for you to start.”
“Why did you think I would be offended?”
“I know your passion is teaching and writing. I didn’t want you to think I was implying you should give it up. I can’t wait to read your book when you finish it. I’ll be your number one fan. Not in the Misery, Kathy Bates, way.” She let out a girlish giggle. “I understand the billing thing is just until you get back on your feet. Who knows, maybe next week I’ll become your partner.”
“What should our company name be?”
“Red Sox Billing, of course.”
“Can you do me a favor?”
“Of course. What?” It was Samantha’s turn to look hesitant.
“Don’t tell Kat about the extra billing. I don’t want to ruffle her father’s feathers, and I would hate to put her in a position to lie. Phineas supplied me with the billing software, and I’m sure if he found out, he would charge me to use it or take it all back.”
Understanding gleamed in her eyes. “Your secret is safe with me. Now, let’s go check out Harold.” She waltzed ahead of me, as excited as a child on Christmas morning.
We strolled into Clammy’s. Although I had been there many times, I always stopped to take in the bric-a-brac on the walls. I had heard that all the junk adorning the walls—ship wheels, barrels, buoys, and half-naked mermaid statues—came from ships or flotsam washed up on the shoreline. I’m not sure I believed it, but the odds and ends added to the ambience, at least. The outside resembled a clam shack; inside was anything but. Located on the Fort Point Channel, the restaurant was next to a marina, and it was still nice enough outside to dine alfresco on the patio. As usual, the place was packed. It was typically a hotspot for tourists, so I wondered why Kat had chosen it for Harold’s date. Wouldn’t it be better for Harold to meet someone in a café bookshop, like Neptune’s on Newbury?
We located them in the back, on the patio side. It wasn’t that hard to spot them, since Harold leaped out of his seat and waved his hands over his head to get our attention. One look at Harold made me realize Kat was serious about his makeover. His floppy, bowl-cut hairdo was gone. In its place he sported short hair that Kat had teased at the front to make it stand up a little. She had remained true to his nerdy side, so the haircut suited him. So did his clothes: dark blue jeans with a lightweight black sweater—not a mock turtleneck, thank goodness. It looked soft. Cashmere soft. It was a V-neck and he wore a white undershirt. I wanted to peek under the table to see if he was wearing white socks with his dark jeans. I groaned, hoping Samantha didn’t hear it.
A wrapped gift sat on the table in front of Harold. Kat laughed and tilted her head towards it. I waved at them, noticing daggers shoot from Kat’s eyes when she saw that I wasn’t alone. It took some effort to make our way through the crowd, most of which congregated around the TV that hung above the bar
. The Sox game was on. September always brought with it anxiety over the playoffs. Sox fans were hungry for another pennant but were cautious not to get their hopes up.
“Look who I bumped into.” I motioned to Samantha, praying Sam would pick up on the fact that I didn’t want to tell Kat we had strolled here together.
She did. “I’m meeting a buddy here.” She gave Kat a quick hug and then turned to Harold. “I’m sorry, we haven’t met.” Smiling, she put her hand out to shake.
This pleased Harold to no end. “Oh, come on, Sam. It’s me, Harold.” He blushed. I thought he might throw in, “Aw-shucks,” but he didn’t.
“Harold, you look so handsome!” Samantha did not let on that I had told her about the blind date. “What’s the occasion?”
Kat couldn’t contain herself any longer. She had to jump in. “Harold has a hot date tonight. Actually, we’re doing a double date.” I think she thought Samantha might immediately disappear, like magic, if she emphasized the word “double.”
Samantha had to have recognized Kat’s meaning, but she chose to ignore it completely. “Oooh! Do I know this girl, Harold?”
I liked that she hadn’t addressed the question to Kat. If Kat wanted Harold to stand on his own two feet, she had to learn to back off some. Setting him up on a date, dressing him up, and offering to go on a double date was all well and good, but eventually Harold would be on his own. Maybe I would have to play interference a lot this evening and steer the conversation back to Harold and his mystery date. I couldn’t wait to see her. Please, mystery date, show up.
“Her name’s Amber,” Harold said, failing to mention that he’d never met her. I hadn’t either.
Kat didn’t have any friends named Amber. Then it hit me. I had seen Kat fooling around on Match.com last week. She said one of her friends had recently joined up and she wanted to check out her profile. My suspicion was that Kat had set up an account for Harold. I didn’t see much good coming from this. Red lights flashed in my head.
“What’s the gift?” I asked.
Harold stared at me seriously. “A book.”
I tried not to laugh at his serious tone. “What book?”
“Neverwhere.”
Kat rolled her eyes, making it clear she didn’t approve of the gift. “I told him it was too soon, but he wants to test the waters.”
“If she’s not a fan, or can’t become a fan, of Gaiman, I don’t see how we’ll work out.” Harold wasn’t playing a game, even if the book was a test.
Samantha nodded, but I detected a hint of laughter in her eyes.
The book was so Harold. I felt relieved he wouldn’t let Kat push him into anything he wasn’t comfortable with. Score one for Harold. Maybe he would be able to stand on his own two feet after all.
Samantha and I sat down, and miraculously, the waitress appeared immediately.
“How much time until she shows, Harold?” asked Samantha.
Harold checked his Timex. I was relieved Kat hadn’t also tried to buy him a cooler watch. “T-minus twenty.”
“Great. I have time for a beer while I wait for my friend.” Samantha ordered a Sam Adams, and I said ditto to the waitress.
Kat’s facial muscles tightened around her intimidating grin. I wanted to tell her to get off her high horse. I was allowed to have female friends. Of course, I didn’t plan on telling her that I had a crush on Samantha back in the day, and that I suspected Samantha might have a crush on me now. Crushes were innocent—completely innocent. No reason for anyone to get their feathers ruffled.
I steered the conversation back to Gaiman. “All right, Harold. You have piqued my curiosity. I’m going to the library tomorrow to check out Neverwhere.”
“You won’t regret it.” Again, his tone was serious. I started to worry he might terrify the shit out of his date.
“Hey, why don’t you just borrow my copy? I’ll drop it off on Monday on my way to work,” said Sam. The waitress placed our beers on the table, and Samantha raised her glass. “To Harold, and his date.”
We all clinked glasses, even Kat, who I sensed wanted nothing more than to push Samantha off her chair and into the water. I had to do something.
“Whatcha drinking, sweetheart? Looks tasty.” I winked at her, feeling silly that I had to try so hard to convince Kat she had nothing to worry about.
“A mint julep.” She gestured for me to try it. I hated bourbon, and immediately regretted asking, but I knew Kat would be upset if I refused.
“A mint julep! Well, how very southern of you.” Kat had started reading Gone with the Wind the other day, so I thought her ordering a mint julep was cute. I lifted the glass. The smell of bourbon made me gag involuntarily
Ignoring it, I took the tiniest of sips and quickly set the glass down far away from me, so I couldn’t smell it.
“Not what I imagined…it’s much…stronger than I thought it would be.” I felt my eyes water.
Harold checked his watch again. Sam remained quiet but wore a wry smile.
“Don’t worry, Harold, she’ll show.” Kat tried to sooth Harold’s nerves, but it wasn’t working. Quiet, expressionless Harold had been replaced by a nervous, jumpy little man who looked like he wanted to hurl. I felt for the guy.
Samantha shot a text on her phone. Seconds later, her phone chirped. I glanced at the screen: “I’ll see you there.”
Sam looked at me slyly. I understood she had arranged to have a friend meet her here, to keep an eye on the big date.
With all the excitement surrounding this Amber, I was starting to get jittery myself. Grabbing my beer, I almost upset my glass.
“Steady, big fella,” Samantha teased.
My grin was a bit too wide, and Kat “accidentally” kicked me under the table. Not letting on about the kick to my shin, I said, “Geez, one beer and I’m already acting tipsy. Good thing I have my lovely Kat here to take care of me.”
It appeased her some, and she placed a hand on mine lovingly—or possessively. “Always.” Her voice was too cheery, her smile so forced it was silly looking. But I found it endearing anyway and raised Kat’s hand to my lips, fearful she might take the opportunity to throttle me otherwise. Just because Uncle Roger was a cheater and Mom thought Dad was one as well, didn’t mean I was.
“I better snag those two seats at the bar, so my friend and I don’t have to stand all night.” Samantha grabbed her purse from the hook under the table. “Harold, I’ll be keeping an eye on you so I can learn some of your moves.” She winked. Harold’s aw-shucks demeanor returned. Samantha’s tone and body language didn’t indicate she was mocking him. I admired her ability to be heartfelt, even when Kat was staring at her like a lioness stalking her dinner.
The two barstools were right in front of the television. I was jealous. From there, Samantha would be able to watch the rest of the game. My sole entertainment was Harold and his date, and I cringed at the thought of watching him crash and burn.
Kat rose and sat next to me, so Harold’s date could sit next to him. D-Day was just a few minutes away. I sucked in a long breath. God I hoped Amber would show.
Five minutes ticked by. Kat did her best to keep the conversation going, but after ten minutes, I glanced over my shoulder at the worried look on Samantha’s face. Was it possible Amber wouldn’t show?
Beads of perspiration appeared on Harold’s brow. Poor guy. I tried to think of something to say to ease his suffering, but drew blanks. Even Kat looked concerned and wasn’t her chatty self. Harold fiddled with the wrapped book, accidently tearing the corner off.
“Um, are you Harold?” a timid voice came from directly behind me.
Harold glanced up, but didn’t speak.
Kat bounced out of her chair, “Are you Amber?”
“Yeah. I’m so sorry I’m late. Got held up at work.” She continued to stand behind me.
Harold was gaping at her, his eyes bugged. I didn’t want to turn and make the girl feel even more awkward. If I were her, I would be runn
ing for the exit.
“Oh, no apologies needed. You’re here, and that’s all that matters.” Kat led Amber to the seat next to the bug-eyed Gaiman fan.
I nudged Harold’s foot under the table, pleading for him to stop gawking. He either ignored me completely or didn’t understand my meaning.
“Let me get the ball rolling. Amber, this is Harold.” Kat motioned to Harold, who finally smiled bashfully and took his eyes off Amber. At least he wasn’t ogling her like she was a science project gone awry. “And this is my girlfriend, Cori.”
I shook Amber’s hand across the table. “Very nice to meet you.”
Harold still said nothing.
“Where do you work, Amber?” asked Kat.
“I’m a paralegal at a law firm.” Amber fidgeted with the purse on her lap and looked miserable.
One minute in, and already I wanted pull the ripcord.
“Harold and Cori work at Beantown Café together. That’s how we all know each other.” Kat was grasping at straws.
“Oh, that’s nice.” Amber didn’t sound impressed.
“I also teach at Adams University. British lit,” I added, and then kicked myself. She wasn’t my date to impress and I made Harold look even more like a loser. Dammit, Cori, you and your ego.
“Really?” Finally, her face had some expression: excitement. “I love to read.”
Her statement kindled an ounce of life in Harold’s body language. He nodded and peeked at her from the corner of his eyes. Then he stared at the water again. Baby steps, Harold, baby steps.
“Who’s your favorite author?” I held my breath after my query. Please say Neil Gaiman. Please, please.
I felt Kat squeeze my leg in anticipation, digging all five nails deep into my thigh.
“J.K. Rowling.”
Dammit!
“Which Potter book is your favorite?”
I was stunned to note that the question came from Harold. Seriously, I almost fell out of my chair. Kat slapped my thigh victoriously. A connection had been made. Halle-fucking-lujah.
Confessions From A Coffee Shop Page 10