Up & Out - Ariella Papa [70]
“Do you want a bellini?” the waiter asks, looking at me.
“Um, sure,” I say. This is more pressure than I like to have at restaurants.
“I’ll get a Peroni,” Tommy adds. I smile at him, trying to convey my gratitude for what I fear is going to be an intense night, but he doesn’t meet my eyes.
Ron is a pharmaceutical salesman. He makes a lot of money and enjoys talking about everything that has to do with money. I once told him how I viewed money in terms of rock shrimp tempura and he didn’t get it.
“How’s the Web site, Tommy?” Tommy hasn’t even gotten his drink yet and already he has to defend his failed dreams.
“You know, like most other dot.coms. I’m working part-time and trying to figure out what to do.”
I tune out as Ron launches into why the dot.coms failed and how stupid everyone was to believe in them. He keeps saying, “I’m just saying you need to be selling something.”
I feel like Ron has said these things many times to many people and maybe even to me. I look at Kathy. She is smiling at Ron as if he is running for office. This was a girl who liked long-haired guys who played guitar. What is she doing with him? Is this the best potential father for the children she wants to have by thirty?
I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I am greeted by the bathroom attendant. I hate when normal restaurants have bathroom attendants. It’s just so uncomfortable. I don’t have my wallet, but even if I did I think it sucks to be expected to tip when you are just using the bathroom. I have no money so I have to suffer the guilt I feel as the attendant stares at me when I wash my hands. Leave it to Ron to pick a place with a bathroom attendant. This guy loves to be catered to.
He’s not a bad guy. But why does Kathy even have to get married now? We’re twenty-seven. We’ve got plenty of time. Lauryn got married early, but look where it got her. Her marriage always seemed like a fun thing to do after we got out of college. It didn’t faze me when it happened, because they fought just as much as ever. I look again at Ron when I find the table we’re sitting at. I just don’t see it.
We get a booth. Kathy, determining it’s safe to stop giving her full attention to Ron, momentarily starts talking to me about the table centerpieces. Ironically, as soon as she stops listening to him, he starts listening to her and interrupts her about what he thinks would make a better centerpiece. They start to argue about the price of Ron’s preferred centerpiece, but it isn’t a full-out argument, it’s like they still have a semblance of politeness, which makes it even worse.
I glance at Tommy for a sign, but he is looking intently at the menu. I open it up. There is no sign of a prix fixe or “Restaurant Week” menu. I peer over Tommy’s shoulder to see if he has some kind of special insert. He looks up at me and shakes his head. I’m in trouble.
“I just think four thousand is too much to spend on centerpieces,” Kathy says.
“I think you’re right, Kathy,” I say. “Where is the Restaurant Week menu?”
Ron and Kathy finally pick up their menus and look inside. It isn’t there.
“Maybe we had to sit up in the bar to get it,” Ron says.
“We can ask,” Kathy says. I think she is trying to quiet me. She looks back at Ron to get him to finish the centerpiece “discussion,” but he’s distracted by the wine list.
“How does everyone feel about red?” I look at Tommy. I’m willing to say that I am fine with water, but Tommy shrugs, and when the waiter comes back, Ron orders a bottle of something Italian that I’ve never heard of. He doesn’t ask about the prix fixe menu and neither does Tommy.
“Kathy wants to have a budget wedding,” Ron says. He reaches over to rub her cheek with his rather hairy hand. “I want her to have the special day she deserves.”
I feel a little uncomfortable with being so involved in their relationship issues. I think maybe Kathy wants the father of her children to have lots of money. Maybe that’s what makes the relationship tick. Long-haired guitar players aren’t usually financially stable and, heck, somebody’s got to keep her in the