Page 75 of Suddenly Dating
Au contraire,Lola very much wanted to hear all the details, every last one. But now everyone was looking at her.
“Anyone here a Mets fan?” she suddenly chirped, recognizing the moment the words flew out of her mouth that it was the weirdest of segues.
“Yankees!” Mr.Westbrook said emphatically. “Lola, don’t ruin your life rooting for the Mets.”
That prompted a lively discussion of the Mets’ chances this year, and some friendly arguing between father and son about the New York teams. Lola had sipped half her drink when Harry stretched his arms overhead and said, “Lola and I should probably get going.”
“You’re not going to stay until Mom wakes up?” Hazel asked.
Harry gave his sister a look that seemed to suggest she knew better than to ask. “I have to work tomorrow. Who knows when she’ll wake up?”
Hazel looked down the long hallway where Lola presumed the bedrooms were situated.
Harry stood up. “Are you ready, Lola?”
“Yes.” She stood up. “Very nice to meet you. And thank you for the drink.”
“You are more than welcome, my dear,” said Mr.Westbrook. “You come back any time, will you? We love to meet Harry’s friends, and I love making martinis. It’s a win-win.”
“See you, bro,” Hazel said, and playfully punched Harry in the belly. “It better not be a month before you show up at Sunday dinner. You know I can’t handle the Old People on my own.”
“Hey, I think I resemble that remark,” Mr.Westbrook said, miming Groucho Marx as he headed back to the bar.
Harry didn’t say much as he drove out of the city. He remarked on the traffic twice, and mentioned how much he loved Dosia and her pancakes. Lola tried to read him, tried to detect if his sister’s news had affected him at all. She was making herself crazy with it and finally asked, “Is your mother okay?”
“My mom?” he asked, glancing at her. “Yeah. Why?”
“I don’t know. She was in bed early, and there was that talk of her getting up.”
“Right.” Harry sighed. He scratched his chin. “She’s okay. If I were actually dating you, I’d sugarcoat it,” he said, using her words. “The truth is that my mom gets pissing drunk every Sunday.”
Lola laughed.
“I’m not kidding,” he said seriously. “Looks like we have more in common than you know.”
“You’re joking,” she said. If Harry’s family had been living in a rundown, two-bedroom apartment like she and her family had, she’d believe it. But the apartment she’d seen this evening didn’t look like it could possibly be the home of a drunk. People who lived in homes like that never had the problems of people who lived hand-to-mouth. Or so she’d always believed.
“I wish I was joking,” he said. “We’ve all gotten used to it. It’s weird—she doesn’t drink a drop through the week. But on Sunday, she starts drinking early and she goes until she just about passes out.”
“Butwhy?” Lola asked, confused.
“Why?” Harry shook his head. “Why did your mom do drugs? What makes anyone abuse alcohol or drugs?”
That was a question Lola had pondered many times in her life. “I wish I knew.” She looked out the window at the passing lights, silent.
“What are you thinking?” Harry asked.
“That I really don’t know you,” she said honestly. “I don’t know if you have more than one sister, or what your dad does for a living, or if you’ve lived on the Upper East Side all your life.”
“Well you’re all kinds of curious tonight,” he said. “Let’s see—Hazel is my only sibling. I grew up in the apartment you saw. And my Dad? He doesn’t do anything. He married my mother’s money and he’s been a stay-at-home dad all my life. Anything else?”
She could hardly process that information, but yes, there was something else. “Do you miss your ex-girlfriend?”
Harry looked at her, his brows dipping in a vee of confusion. Or irritation. Lola wasn’t certain which. “What?” he asked, as if he hadn’t heard her correctly.
“Sorry,” she said, holding up a hand. “It’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s okay,” he said. “I was expecting you to ask where my mother’s money came from. Banking, by the way. And yes, I miss her sometimes. But not all the time.”
