Now That You Mention It
Page 58
“Excuse me?”
I looked right at him. “She’s still so pretty.”
“Ah. Ayuh.”
Amy came back a minute later with our drinks. “On me,” she said, setting down my drink.
“Thank you so much,” I said.
She smiled—Amy Beckman, smiling at me! squealed my inner dorky adolescent—and put down Sully’s beer. “What would you like for dinner? Want to hear the specials?”
Sully would have to work that much harder to hear over the crowd, looking up at Amy.
“No, that’s fine,” I said. “I mean, unless you do, Sullivan.”
“No, I’m good. Go ahead.”
I ordered the lobster roll (I would go for a run tomorrow, I swore it) and a salad to counteract the butter (ha). Sully ordered scallops.
When Amy had taken our order, I leaned forward. This kind of intense conversing was a little unnerving. “Do you have any questions about Audrey?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “The doctor you recommended—Patel?” I nodded. “He covered everything. She goes in next week.”
“It’s a great hospital, and Raj is the best. I’m sure everything will go smoothly.”
“Amy and I, we...we really can’t ever thank you enough.”
I shrugged, a little embarrassed (and secretly thrilled). “Just doing my job. You know, like a firefighter, running into a burning building and saving lives and stuff.”
“I’m sorry. I missed everything you just said.”
Just as well, since I was babbling.
“Hey, you two.” Amy again. “I got you another table where it’s quieter. He’s deaf as a stump, you know,” she said to me.
“I heard that,” he said.
And so we moved to a back room where there were only three tables, all empty. “Thanks, Ame,” he said.
“Yeah, whatever,” she said. “Brian will be your waiter back here. Give a shout if you need anything.” She started to leave, then turned back. “How’s your sister?” she asked.
“She’s...she’s doing okay,” I said.
“Tell her I said hi.”
“I will. Thanks.”
She left, and the relative quiet settled around us.
“How is your sister?” Sullivan asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “She doesn’t speak to me.”
“Why is that?” His brown eyes were steady on mine, and there was something about the intent way he looked at me, the gentle calmness of his face. All of a sudden, there was a lump in my throat. I shrugged.
“You and me, we both have problem siblings,” he said.
“How’s your brother?”
Sully glanced out the window, a rueful look on his face. “Well, he stole about a thousand dollars from the boatyard last week.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, whatcha gonna do?”
“Call the police?”
“Not an option.”
“Why not?”
He sighed. “Well, you should know. He’s lost a lot in life.”
“Are we still talking about that fucking scholarship?”
Sully laughed out loud. “Listen to you! Dr. Stuart dropping the f-bomb.” I felt my cheeks warm and took a sip of my drink. “No,” he continued. “Not the scholarship. Not just the scholarship, I should say. He lost the chance to do something with his life.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, well, he’s not quite dead, is he? There are a lot of choices he could make that would serve him better than being a druggie and a drunk. And as for loss, I have to ask you—what about you? I mean, you’re the one who got hurt in that accident, Sullivan. Because of your brother being coked up that night. And you’re the one who was in the hospital and a nursing home for six months. You’re the one who’s losing his hearing because of it. If anyone’s lost something, I’d say it’s you.”
He looked at me for a long minute. “Some people can handle things better than others.”
“So it’s your job to look out for him?”
“Ayuh. Don’t you look out for your sister?”
“No. She’s in jail, currently refusing to answer any letters I send her.”
“But you’re looking out for her daughter.”
He had me there. “Yes.”
“And I’m guessing that you’ve had some losses, too. But you’ve handled them better, that’s all.”
I mulled that over. “Is that a compliment or a chastisement?” I asked.
“Both?” He grinned, and his face went from ordinary to wicked in a flash.
Sullivan Fletcher was...yeah. He was. My knees tingled with all that he was.
“You got a boyfriend?” he asked. Not terribly subtle, but again, we were in Maine.
“Not really,” I said.
“You sure?”
“We broke up just before I came back here.”
Our waiter chose that moment to place our food down. “Hi, I’m Brian!” he said, as if he’d just been named and couldn’t get over the wonder of it. “We have the delicious lobster roll for the beautiful lady, excellent choice, I might add, sweet potato fries, a personal favorite, and coleslaw that our chef makes with just a little bit of radish to really bring out the flavor. And for the gentleman, the scallops, which I totally adore, by the way, the mashed potatoes with scallions and a little bit of sour cream, hey, we all have to live life, am I right, and the brussels sprouts, my favorite veggie, let me tell you. All our produce is locally sourced and organic, of course. Can I get you anything else? Fresh ground pepper, grated cheese, extra bread, ketchup, more butter, sea salt, pink salt, Himalayan salt, a foot massage?”
That last one may have been merely implied. “I think we’re all set,” I said.
“Fantastic! Enjoy!” Brian cooed. “I’ll check on you in a few! Mangia!”
“Sometimes being hard of hearing is a blessing,” Sully said.
“I stopped listening ten seconds in,” I said, and he grinned.
For a few minutes, Sullivan and I just ate. I was starving, I realized. And lobster that was swimming at the bottom of the icy Atlantic a few hours ago, now drenched in butter and served on a soft Portuguese roll...yes, yes, I would run tomorrow. But today, I’d just eat lobster. Eat and ask prying questions, that was.
“How are things going with your sign language and all?” I asked, licking butter off my fingers in that classy way.
“It’s okay. Kind of hard to learn on your own, so it’s good of Audrey to help me. She picks up on it faster than I do.”
I smiled. “She seems really smart.”
“She is.”
I took a sip of my drink and watched him a second. When he looked up from his plate, he said, “Sorry, did I miss something?”
I shook my head. “But on the subject of what you can’t hear...are you okay with that? Are you sad or angry or...depressed?”
He smiled a little. “Not really. I mean, I’ve known this was happening for a long time now.” His smile faded. “I try to listen to things more, try to store them up. The birds in the morning. Favorite music. Audrey’s laugh. Trying to fill up my head with the best sounds. Been watching a lot of home movies lately.” He gave a half shrug and looked back at his plate.
Le sigh. I hoped I wasn’t visibly swooning, but I couldn’t be sure.
I looked right at him. “She’s still so pretty.”
“Ah. Ayuh.”
Amy came back a minute later with our drinks. “On me,” she said, setting down my drink.
“Thank you so much,” I said.
She smiled—Amy Beckman, smiling at me! squealed my inner dorky adolescent—and put down Sully’s beer. “What would you like for dinner? Want to hear the specials?”
Sully would have to work that much harder to hear over the crowd, looking up at Amy.
“No, that’s fine,” I said. “I mean, unless you do, Sullivan.”
“No, I’m good. Go ahead.”
I ordered the lobster roll (I would go for a run tomorrow, I swore it) and a salad to counteract the butter (ha). Sully ordered scallops.
When Amy had taken our order, I leaned forward. This kind of intense conversing was a little unnerving. “Do you have any questions about Audrey?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “The doctor you recommended—Patel?” I nodded. “He covered everything. She goes in next week.”
“It’s a great hospital, and Raj is the best. I’m sure everything will go smoothly.”
“Amy and I, we...we really can’t ever thank you enough.”
I shrugged, a little embarrassed (and secretly thrilled). “Just doing my job. You know, like a firefighter, running into a burning building and saving lives and stuff.”
“I’m sorry. I missed everything you just said.”
Just as well, since I was babbling.
“Hey, you two.” Amy again. “I got you another table where it’s quieter. He’s deaf as a stump, you know,” she said to me.
“I heard that,” he said.
And so we moved to a back room where there were only three tables, all empty. “Thanks, Ame,” he said.
“Yeah, whatever,” she said. “Brian will be your waiter back here. Give a shout if you need anything.” She started to leave, then turned back. “How’s your sister?” she asked.
“She’s...she’s doing okay,” I said.
“Tell her I said hi.”
“I will. Thanks.”
She left, and the relative quiet settled around us.
“How is your sister?” Sullivan asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “She doesn’t speak to me.”
“Why is that?” His brown eyes were steady on mine, and there was something about the intent way he looked at me, the gentle calmness of his face. All of a sudden, there was a lump in my throat. I shrugged.
“You and me, we both have problem siblings,” he said.
“How’s your brother?”
Sully glanced out the window, a rueful look on his face. “Well, he stole about a thousand dollars from the boatyard last week.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, whatcha gonna do?”
“Call the police?”
“Not an option.”
“Why not?”
He sighed. “Well, you should know. He’s lost a lot in life.”
“Are we still talking about that fucking scholarship?”
Sully laughed out loud. “Listen to you! Dr. Stuart dropping the f-bomb.” I felt my cheeks warm and took a sip of my drink. “No,” he continued. “Not the scholarship. Not just the scholarship, I should say. He lost the chance to do something with his life.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, well, he’s not quite dead, is he? There are a lot of choices he could make that would serve him better than being a druggie and a drunk. And as for loss, I have to ask you—what about you? I mean, you’re the one who got hurt in that accident, Sullivan. Because of your brother being coked up that night. And you’re the one who was in the hospital and a nursing home for six months. You’re the one who’s losing his hearing because of it. If anyone’s lost something, I’d say it’s you.”
He looked at me for a long minute. “Some people can handle things better than others.”
“So it’s your job to look out for him?”
“Ayuh. Don’t you look out for your sister?”
“No. She’s in jail, currently refusing to answer any letters I send her.”
“But you’re looking out for her daughter.”
He had me there. “Yes.”
“And I’m guessing that you’ve had some losses, too. But you’ve handled them better, that’s all.”
I mulled that over. “Is that a compliment or a chastisement?” I asked.
“Both?” He grinned, and his face went from ordinary to wicked in a flash.
Sullivan Fletcher was...yeah. He was. My knees tingled with all that he was.
“You got a boyfriend?” he asked. Not terribly subtle, but again, we were in Maine.
“Not really,” I said.
“You sure?”
“We broke up just before I came back here.”
Our waiter chose that moment to place our food down. “Hi, I’m Brian!” he said, as if he’d just been named and couldn’t get over the wonder of it. “We have the delicious lobster roll for the beautiful lady, excellent choice, I might add, sweet potato fries, a personal favorite, and coleslaw that our chef makes with just a little bit of radish to really bring out the flavor. And for the gentleman, the scallops, which I totally adore, by the way, the mashed potatoes with scallions and a little bit of sour cream, hey, we all have to live life, am I right, and the brussels sprouts, my favorite veggie, let me tell you. All our produce is locally sourced and organic, of course. Can I get you anything else? Fresh ground pepper, grated cheese, extra bread, ketchup, more butter, sea salt, pink salt, Himalayan salt, a foot massage?”
That last one may have been merely implied. “I think we’re all set,” I said.
“Fantastic! Enjoy!” Brian cooed. “I’ll check on you in a few! Mangia!”
“Sometimes being hard of hearing is a blessing,” Sully said.
“I stopped listening ten seconds in,” I said, and he grinned.
For a few minutes, Sullivan and I just ate. I was starving, I realized. And lobster that was swimming at the bottom of the icy Atlantic a few hours ago, now drenched in butter and served on a soft Portuguese roll...yes, yes, I would run tomorrow. But today, I’d just eat lobster. Eat and ask prying questions, that was.
“How are things going with your sign language and all?” I asked, licking butter off my fingers in that classy way.
“It’s okay. Kind of hard to learn on your own, so it’s good of Audrey to help me. She picks up on it faster than I do.”
I smiled. “She seems really smart.”
“She is.”
I took a sip of my drink and watched him a second. When he looked up from his plate, he said, “Sorry, did I miss something?”
I shook my head. “But on the subject of what you can’t hear...are you okay with that? Are you sad or angry or...depressed?”
He smiled a little. “Not really. I mean, I’ve known this was happening for a long time now.” His smile faded. “I try to listen to things more, try to store them up. The birds in the morning. Favorite music. Audrey’s laugh. Trying to fill up my head with the best sounds. Been watching a lot of home movies lately.” He gave a half shrug and looked back at his plate.
Le sigh. I hoped I wasn’t visibly swooning, but I couldn’t be sure.
