Page 40 of RomeAntically Challenged
While her parents discussed the likelihood of it being Annie—even though her name must have appeared on her mom’s phone the moment the call connected—Annie thunked her forehead on the steering wheel. Three times.
Her mouth opened, but all that came out was, “Mom?”
“Of course it’s Mom. You called me, so why do you sound surprised?” Maura asked.
“I’m not. It’s just, uh...”In thirty-five years, this is the first call you’ve ever answered duringJeopardy!. “After I dialed, I realized what time it was. I didn’t want to interruptJeopardy!. So I was just going to leave a message. In fact, I can still do that. Hang up and I’ll call you back and leave a message.”
“Why would I do that?” There was more muffling, as if her mom was covering the receiver with her hand, then a distant “She wants me to hang up so she can leave a message.... No, she thought she was interruptingJeopardy!.”
When the hand was removed, it was her father on the line. “Remember Frank Shubert from the tennis club? His oldest just moved back home. What’s his name?” The last part was directed at his wife.
“Jacob.”
“Right. Jacob set us up with a new device that lets you watch shows anytime. It’s really something. I just speak into the remote, and it plays what I want to watch. Next time you’re over, I’ll show it to you.”
Her dad sounded so excited, Annie decided not to remind him about the Hulu subscription she’d given him last year for his birthday. And she most definitely did not remind him that he’d canceled it.
Other people’s choices are not a reflection of me.
“But Mom likes to watchJeopardy!live.”
“There’s no commercials, Annie,” her mom said, as if she’d just been shown the eighth wonder of the world. “Can you believe that?”
“No, Mom. I can’t,” Annie deadpanned.
“Jacob got divorced—that’s why he’s home. What a shame. He’s such a nice boy.” One concerned sigh later, Maura perked up. “ He’s single, no kids, got a stable job now. He’s lost a little of his hair around the front, you know, like your cousin Benjamin.”
“Benjamin’s bald.” This from Marty. “I need a ten-letter word forrousedthat ends inD.”
“Recedingis the term they use nowadays,” added Maura, the foremost expert on rousing. “Oh Annie, why don’t you come home this weekend for dinner. I can invite the Shuberts. Wouldn’t it be nice to catch up with Frank and Susan?”
“It would”—not—“but I can’t this weekend.”
Mom rolled on without a pause. “And of course Jacob would be invited. I’m sure spending time with old friends would be good for him right now.”
“We were never friends,” Annie pointed out.
“Isn’t that just perfect?” Maura giggled with delight. “Making up for lost time and missed opportunities! He’d make a fine plus one to Clark’s wedding, wouldn’t he, Marty?”
“What?” Marty shouted.
“I said, ‘wouldn’t Jacob make a fine plus one to Clark’s wedding? ’”
“I thought you were taking me?” Marty asked. “And here I went and got my suit pressed.”
“Igot your suit pressed. And I was talking about Annie,” Maura chided. “You could meet him this weekend.”
“Sorry, Mom, but I’m working.” Working on finding any excuse not to go home.
“Both days? That can’t be healthy, now, can it? Maybe you should take a personal day. Shouldn’t she, Marty.”
“Personal day?” Her dad laughed. “We didn’t have that in my day. We were thankful to have a job.”
“Times are different now.” Annie could almost hear her mom batting Marty’s words away.
“Different or not, when has Annie ever called in sick? Never,” Marty said, answering his own question. “Then why’s she going to miss it for some balding divorced guy who lives above his parents’ garage?”
Annie had to smile. Her dad was picking sides—and he’d picked Annie’s. Something warm and familiar wove its way around Annie’s heart.
