Easily Amused (3 page)

“I know. I’m sorry. I thought it would be OK.”

Before I had a chance to interrogate him further, Officer Stein leaned over and put a fatherly hand on my shoulder. “Does he have permission to be in your house? Because if not, we can—”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

Behind me Myra muttered something to Brother Jasper that I thought sounded like “lovers’ spat.” One of the dogs whimpered loudly.

“I can release him then?” Officer Dodge asked. Upon getting an affirmative reply, he loosened his grip. Hubert rubbed his left arm and did a few deep knee bends in appreciation of his new freedom. He smiled a lopsided grin, the right side of his mouth lifting higher than the left.

Officer Stein apologized to Hubert. “We had to treat you as an intruder. We had no way of knowing you were the young lady’s friend.”

Hubert brushed it off with a good-natured wave. “It’s OK. I understand. You guys were just doing your job.”

I told them I was sorry for the false alarm.

“It never hurts to check things out,” Brother Jasper said. “Better safe than sorry.”

“We prefer this kind of outcome, actually,” Officer Stein said, and his partner nodded in agreement. What an incredibly affable group.

I wasn’t sure what the protocol was in this type of situation, so I introduced Hubert to the sidewalk gathering as if we were at a cocktail party. Hubert, always a social guy, explained that he came to my house because he got locked out of his own, and then he went on to compliment Belinda’s dogs and the neighborhood in general.

“You won’t find a better block anywhere in the city,” Myra said.

Hubert looked around appreciatively. “I can see that.”

“You couldn’t pay me a million dollars to live anywhere but here,” she added for emphasis.

I followed Brother Jasper across the street as he accompanied the officers to their squad car. I felt compelled to apologize one last time. “I’m so embarrassed that you had to come all the way here,” I said. “I had no idea it was my friend inside. I don’t even know how he got in.”

“He said he used the key hidden on the porch under the planter,” Officer Dodge said.

“Ah yes, the hidden key,” Brother Jasper said. “I’d forgotten about that.” This was the first I’d heard of it.

“I hope your night gets better, miss,” Officer Dodge said before climbing into the passenger side. I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me or being genuinely friendly.

Officer Stein shook Brother Jasper’s hand. “Good night, sir. Take care.”

Brother Jasper held up one hand like delivering a blessing. “Good night and stay safe.”

A
fter the squad car pulled away, I said goodnight to Brother Jasper and left him fumbling in his shirt pocket for his pack of Marlboros. Probably going to smoke his
last
last cigarette of the night.

Hubert and company were still chatting in front of my house. Myra and Belinda and the canines were charmed by him, I could tell. He’d had that effect on everyone for as long as I’d known him. He was a big, goofy-looking guy who possessed as much curiosity as a preschooler. Hubert could spend hours listening to someone talk about their job or dog or years spent in the military. And he was genuinely interested, not just being polite. He always remembered names, and he had perfect recall of past events. “Remember the year neither of us went to prom so we went to a movie instead?” he once asked.

“Hubert, I
never
went to prom.”

“It was junior year,” he continued. “And I couldn’t use my dad’s truck because it was in the shop getting transmission work done, so you drove. We saw the sequel to that
Scream
movie. It was really hot that weekend, and afterwards we drove around with the windows open singing along with the radio. Remember?”

Only vaguely. I wished I had his memory for details, but my high school days went by in a blur. College too, come to think of it. It was only lately that time seemed to drag.

Now he stood and listened intently as Myra spoke, her short arms gesturing vigorously. Hubert found whatever she said amusing. But then again, he was easily amused. He threw back his head and laughed, delighting both women and making the husky sit up and bark.

“I’m back,” I said when I got within earshot.

My announcement had the desired effect—Belinda and Myra began to say the kinds of things that lead to a departure.

“It was so nice meeting you, Hubert,” Belinda said. She added, “Maybe I’ll see you around the neighborhood.” Her tone was pretty flirtatious for a woman in her forties. She pulled the two leashes taut, and the dogs rose excitedly, anticipating another walk.

“Don’t forget,” Myra said, giving Hubert’s arm a squeeze.

“I won’t,” he said. “Nice meeting you, ladies.”

Myra walked slowly across the lawn to her house next door, while Belinda headed down the sidewalk to the end of the block.

“Good-bye, Roger. Good night, Muggles,” Hubert called out after her. Both dogs paused and turned their heads.

“Buh-bye,” Belinda said, waving and smiling, and then she continued on with a spring in her step I’d never noticed before.

Roger? Muggles?
“You know the dogs’ names?” I asked, dumfounded.

“Of course. Dogs are people too, you know.”

It wasn’t until we were settled in easy chairs on opposite sides of the living room that I heard the story of how Hubert came to be in my house.

“Kelly locked me out,” he explained. “And I didn’t have my shoes or my cell phone or my wallet or anything.” He rolled his eyes and held up his palms. “Wouldn’t you know? As it turns out, my neighbor was leaving about that time. I flagged him down as he was driving away, and since he was going downtown and your house was on the way, he said no problem, he’d be glad to drop me off. It worked out perfect, lucky for me.”

“She locked you out? On purpose?”

Hubert ran a hand through his thick brown hair, a gesture he made when uncomfortable. “Well,” he said and shifted in the chair. “It’s not all her fault. Kelly’s been working a lot of hours lately, and she’s under a lot of pressure. A lot of pressure. And she has an artist’s temperament. When she comes home, she likes things to be a certain way. I know that, but I just wasn’t thinking—”

“For God’s sake, Hubert, what happened?”

He sighed and squeezed the arms of the chair like he was getting a tooth drilled. “After I cooked dinner tonight I missed cleaning up some marinara splatters on the back of the stove. It was obvious after she pointed it out, but I’d somehow zoned out and completely missed it. I said I’d clean it up, but she said that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that she shouldn’t have to follow me around pointing out my mistakes. Then later when I went outside to get the mail she locked me out. I knocked on the door, but she wouldn’t open up. She said she needed some alone time and I should go for a walk. I waited a long time, but I was getting kind of cold, and that’s when I saw my neighbor leaving.”

“She locked you out?” I knew I was repeating myself, but the point seemed emphasis-worthy. “You do realize, Hubert, that this is not normal behavior?”

“Who’s to say what’s normal?” he said, looking wounded. “Everyone’s different, Lola. Not everyone’s like you.”

I could tell by the look on his face that Kelly-bashing was off limits. Still, I couldn’t resist one more comment. “You know, Hubert, true love isn’t supposed to be this painful.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, pushing his hair back off his forehead. “Kelly and I just need to work through some things.”

We sat without speaking; the clock on the fireplace mantel ticked loudly. It was a sound I hadn’t heard before. “You wound up the clock?” I asked.

He grinned. “Yes, I did. I just made myself at home. I hope you don’t mind. This place is great.” His voice had regained its usual enthusiasm. “I love this old woodwork—the crown moldings, the arched doorways. Your fireplace is awesome, and that claw-footed bathtub upstairs rocks. The whole house is in terrific shape. All you’d have to do is get a few pieces reupholstered, refinish the hardwood floors, and paint a few rooms, and you’d have a showplace.” His brow furrowed as he looked around the room. “And you might want to get rid of all those doily things that are under the lamps. What’s that all about?”

“They’re my great-aunt’s,” I said. “I haven’t had a chance to do much to the place since I moved in.”

He leaned forward and rested his chin in his palms. “I’ll say. Nothing here reminded me of you. I almost thought I was in somebody else’s house.”

Which reminded me. “How the hell did you know how to get in the house? The cop said you got a key from under the planter.”

Hubert sat up and cleared his throat. “Well, I started off waiting on the porch. I was there for all of five minutes when this little Korean lady came by on her bike and stopped to talk. Cute little lady—about so high.” He held his hand about four feet off the floor.

Yeah, I could picture her.

“Really a sweetheart,” he continued. “She was just coming back from the market; her basket was loaded with cabbage. I told her I was a friend of yours, and she said you’d gone out to dinner.”

“I was with Piper.”

“Ah, I should have figured as much. Anyway,” he said, “your neighbor showed me where the key was and said I might as well wait inside. Actually what she said was, ‘Too cold for porch sitting with no shoes.’ So I let myself in. I tried calling your cell, but you didn’t answer, so I figured I’d just wait for you. I was having fun checking out your house, and everything was going just fine until the police threatened to shoot me.” He stuck out his lower lip. Always the jester.

“That had to be the woman next door, Mrs. Cho,” I said. “I can’t believe she showed a complete stranger how to get into my house. You could have been an ax murderer or a rapist, for all she knew.”

“And yet, I am neither. Just a lowly fourth grade teacher at Eisenhower Elementary. Sorry to disappoint.” He folded his legs and sat cross-legged on the chair, like a large swami minus the turban.

“I’ll say you’re lowly. No shoes and no wallet—there are homeless guys under the overpass doing better than you.”

“Yes, but the homeless guys don’t have a friend with a four-bedroom house. If they did, they wouldn’t be sleeping under a bridge.” He grinned at me, like I was in on a joke.

It dawned on me then. “Were you thinking you were going to sleep here tonight?”

“Well, yeah. That’s OK, isn’t it? You said I could come drop by anytime.”

There it was again. My open invitation to visit anytime. Wasn’t there a statute of limitations on such social blatherings? Surely it couldn’t be endless, or you’d have people you knew in grade school dropping by for milk and Girl Scout cookies. “Oh, I don’t know, Hubert. I’m not really set up for guests. Maybe if I’d known you were coming…” My voice trailed off, giving him an opportunity to jump in with an alternate plan. To tell me I could drive him to one of his poker buddies’ houses or that he could crash at his parents’. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to stay; it was more like I felt he’d been sprung on me.

It’s an unfortunate quirk of my personality that I’ve always been easily overwhelmed. My parents had two daughters; me, the typical serious type-A older daughter who needs a lot of transition time, and my sister Mindy, who could throw a party on a moment’s notice. I’ve tried in the past to go against type without success. The truth of it is, I’m rattled by things other people take in stride. Knowing this, I arrange my life to avoid stressful situations. An unexpected visitor, even a good friend, feels like an intrusion. My mind whirred with all the things I would have done with some advance notice: changed the sheets, bought groceries, scrubbed out the tub. “Besides, don’t you think Kelly is over her snit by now? She’s probably worried sick about you. I bet if you called her right now—”

“I already did call her,” he said, not meeting my eyes. “While you were out. And she wouldn’t pick up. I know her, and when she gets like this she needs her space. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

“It’s your space too, you know.”

“I know.” He sighed and looked around the room. “I know how surprises throw you off course, Lola, and if I could have given you some notice, I would have. But I’ve got nowhere else to go at this hour, and you’ve got all this space. One night, that’s all I’m asking.” He stared straight at me, his eyes pleading.

“The extra bedrooms are all dusty. I wasn’t planning on anyone using them.”

“Whatever, Lola. I can sleep on the couch even. I don’t care.”

I suddenly felt ashamed of my hesitation. “No, no, the couch would be too short for you.” For someone of his height, six feet tall, most couches would have been too short. “Don’t worry about it. I can get a room ready. It’ll be fine.” I tried to remember where Aunt May kept the extra sheets. Probably next to the towels in the deep closet in the upstairs hall. I hadn’t gone through any of that stuff yet. Just to be on the safe side, I’d have to wash the bedding before I set up one of the beds. “No trouble at all.”

“Great.” He leaned back in the chair, visibly relieved. “I really appreciate it, Lola. It could be fun even. You’ll see.”

Fun was a bit of a reach, but anything was possible. “Sure.”

“This will be great. We can play Scrabble tonight if you want.” He was really making an effort now. Scrabble was my thing; he hated board games. “And we could go to a movie tomorrow, if you’re up for it.”

“Or we could buy you shoes.”

“I forgot about that,” he said, wiggling his toes. “Oh!” He leaned forward in the chair and tapped his forehead with his fingertips. “And I totally forgot to tell you—we’re both invited to your neighbor’s house for dinner next week.”

“What?”

“Well, it has to be next week because she’s making kimchi and it has to soak for several days.”

“You accepted a dinner invitation without asking me?”

“I wouldn’t normally, Lola, but we’re talking homemade kimchi, here. I couldn’t imagine anyone turning
that
down.”

Oh, just watch me.