Page 47 of Hopeless Romantic
“His house isn’t on the way. In fact, it is a half hour in the exact opposite direction from the bowling alley.”
“I know he’ll appreciate it, and since you’ll be only a few minutes from here, you can swing by and look at the front porch light,” she said, completely ignoring his previous statement. “It’s on the fritz again. Can barely make out the keyhole when I get home from scrapbooking class at the Y.”
“Can the light wait until tomorrow? Today’s my day off, so I’m not even at the bar to get Michelle’s boxes.”
“Then put your sneakers on and walk the hundred steps to the bar, Levi.” Her tone implied she’d just solved global warming.
“It’s not walking over there that’s the problem. It’s getting back to my car,” he tried to explain. From the minute he’d set foot in the Crow’s Nest until he got into his car, Levi would encounter a half-dozen employees, each with a dozen questions that only he could answer. “It will take me forty-five minutes just to get on the road. Another thirty to drop by Gray’s, then fix your light.” Then there was the trip back across town to the alley.
“That’s okay, it took me forty-five hours to push you out,” Ida said, effectively winning the argument. No man wants to be reminded that he once came out of his mom’s vagina. No one.
“Maybe it just needs a new bulb. Is Owen around?” Levi asked, referring to Paisley’s best friend, who happened to live down the street from Ida. “Maybe he can try replacing the bulb. Or maybe it just needs tightening.” Theagainwas silent.
The last time a light was “on the fritz,” it turned out someone had loosened the bulb enough to make it flicker. They could never prove it, but the whole family was confident the someone in question was Ida.
When she was lonely, rather than admit she missed her kids, she’d create a reason for a visit. Levi would bet the boat that Ida was the most creative mom in town. She once tossed a box of nails in the washer, ran it, then called to say her washer was making a strange sound. Last month, she required assistance taking her garbage can to the curb. When Levi discovered her garden bricks lining the bottom, she accused neighborhood kids of pulling pranks.
“I couldn’t bother Owen.” She was aghast. “I’m sure he’s busy doing schoolwork.”
Over the years, Levi had babysat Owen enough to know the kid was next-level smart. With video games and cells removed from the equation, he could accomplish a week’s worth of homework in under two hours. When properly motivated, let’s say with easy money, he could do it in less.
“Tell Owen I’ll pay him twenty bucks, plus the cost of a new bulb, to screw it in.” He’d consider doubling it since, by his calculations, to hit all the destinations on Ida’s approved itinerary and still make it to bowling, Levi would have to abandon his me-first time and leave now.
“I will not! Emmitt dropped Paisley off a few minutes ago for a study group. I won’t be responsible for distracting them.”
“Emmitt was there? He could’ve checked the light.”
“He’s not my son,” she said in a tone that usually ended with her calling Levi by his full name. “And he was in a rush to get home and start dinner. It was Annie’s night to cook, but one of the players on Annie’s bowling team was put on bed rest until she delivers, so Annie spent all afternoon trying to find a replacement on such short notice.”
“She’s short a player?” he asked, wondering if this was his out. The last thing he wanted to do was bowl, but he couldn’t leave his team short a player. However, according to the week’s lineup, it was nurses versus physicians, which put Gray’s team against Annie’s. So if the nurses were down a member, and Levi told Gray he wasn’t coming, it would even up the two teams.
Maybe he’d get some of that me-first time, after all.
“No. Thankfully, Annie found a friend of hers to fill in, which was a relief.”
“And while Emmitt was explaining all that, he couldn’t reach up and twist in a bulb?”
“You know what, Levi James. If it will cause you that much trouble, I’ll fix it myself.”
Normally, it’d be no problem for him to visit. She’d call, he’d drive over, fix whatever needed fixing, then stay for whichever meal came next.
Tonight, he didn’t have the spare energy or time—not if Annie’s team was full and he had to make it to bowling. Then again, what was a measly hour of me-first time when compared to forty-five hours in labor?
Fixing his mom’s light was the least he could do.
“I’ll be at your place around six, but there will only be time to fix the light. Dinner or anything else will have to wait.”
“But I made moussaka,” she objected. “Your yiayia’s moussaka. Ero’s was having a special on lamb, half off your second pound. I said I’d take three pounds if he’d honor the half off on the third pound. When Ero said it only applied to the second half of each two-pound order, I reminded him how much you loved moussaka and how it was the only way I could sneak eggplant into your diet,” she said, as if Levi were still six, and it was completely normal for her to talk about her children to the butcher. “He agreed to apply the deal to two of the three pounds. What kind of Greek mother would I be to pass on that?”
“Not a good one,” he answered, because when it came down to meat, there were a few hard and fast rules that, according to Ida, all real Greek mothers followed:
1.Only serve lamb 2–3 times a week.
2.Always fresh, never processed.
3.A good deal on lamb is a good deal on lamb.
4.Buy from a trained butcher.
