Lap LessonsChapter 7
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I was happy when I was rid of Winter. I didn’t want to start liking her. I was starting to think she and Faye, or Carmine, or Gretchen, were angels or something. Maybe demons. One of those Japanese snow succubi? Yuki-onna, I think they were called. I was smiling to myself; I was relieved to find the Richardson’s open.
Gum, condoms, a dozen roses. The checkout woman was white-haired and grinning. She reminded me it was gum before I knock, roses when the girl opens the door, and condoms not until after the girl lets me in.
“I was going condom, gum, roses this whole time,” I joked. The woman behind me scowled a bit. Across the street, I tossed the condoms on my bed. I hurried off, up the hill, and towards Sam and Max’s dorm. I slowed to a stagger as I crossed over poorly shoveled sidewalks. I was thirty-one and I was going to pick up my date at her dorm? Jesus. I was over that the girls were so young. It was hard to see them as a number when I saw them as individuals. They were Sam, Max, and Alex. I wasn’t over dealing with all the circumstances around the whole thing, though. I reached the last intersection. I texted her as I crossed the street.
I didn’t die for not looking both ways, but I did get honked at. Max was out her front doors nearly as soon as I had finished typing. She looked great, for a parka, scarf, and toque that hid her body shape and facial features. There was a cute fluffy ball on top of her head. I flicked it as she took the flowers in her gloves.
“You shouldn’t have,” she said, and she might’ve meant it. I frowned. “C’mon, I gotta take them inside.”
I followed her into the dorms. I smiled awkwardly at the teenage girls coming out. I was thinking back to my lunch with Alex’s father. What was I doing? Three girls? Jesus crap! Could I handle three girls? They seemed to think so. You know what? I could. I would--
“Gene!” Max elbowed me as the elevator opened for us.
“What? Are you OK?” I asked.
“I said, ‘Thank you.’” She had her scarf pulled down and could take a deep sniff of the roses now. “But, this is the kind of thing Alex should get, you know?”
“Uh,” I frowned. “Oh, well educate me.” I forced that frown into a smile. “What kind of flowers are your favorites?”
“Roses,” she said, pushing the sixth-floor button.
“And Alex’s?” I tried not to sound too confused.
“Lilies? Yeah, lilies. White ones,” Max declared.
“Then I chose correctly,” I said with a grin.
We stepped off on her floor. An overweight young woman in only a towel left the shower room and crossed the hall to her room. I looked away. There were young dumb-looking guys hanging out in our path.
“Back so soon, Maxie? Who are you? You her dad?” the one in the baseball cap asked.
“No,” I answered. The girl was carrying a bunch of roses and walking with me. I’d let them connect the dots.
“Right here,” Max said, and led me into her room. Sam was on her bed with her headphones on. I could hear the loud music blaring into her ears. She jumped, startled, when Max walked by. Sam pulled off her headphones as I closed their door.
“I thought you guys were going out?” Sam said.
“Yeah, you’re still not coming?” Max asked. “The three of us are going for Chinese. Do you like Chinese?”
“I love it.” Sam shrugged. “Three of you?”
“News to me,” I said. “I wanted this to be just you and me, Max.”
“What?” She seemed startled as she rucked about in her wardrobe until she could pull out a plastic water jug to make into a flower vase. “Where’s Alex?”
“She’s seeing another man tonight,” I announced solemnly.
“That slut!” Sam gasped. I turned and looked at her, confused. “Who would she go out with besides you?!”
“Her dad,” I said. Sam burned red. She dropped her head and apologized.
“Look, whatever happens, if we’re getting mad at each other over things, real or imagined, then we’re going to need to talk about it,” I told Sam.
“Team Girlfriend meeting, then?” Max asked. I turned and smiled. Neither of them was smiling back. That night I had met them, the night I slept with Sam, the day we had been snowed in, they had smiled like it was the only way to breathe properly. I forced my smile so it looked a bit more crazy.
“No, tonight, it’s you, me, and Jean’s.”
“You’re taking her to your place?”
“No, we’re heading up the hill to a hole-in-the-wall Chinese place,” I said. I had prodded for a better option but Peter had agreed with my assessment of the food in this city. “It’s called Jean’s.”
“Oh, you don’t have to make it a thing if you’re just going to have food and sex at your place,” Sam laughed. “Though I wouldn’t call you Chinese. Scottish? McArthur is Scottish, right? Irish?”
“Jean’s. With a J. And an A.”
“It’s a Chinese place? Named Jean’s?” Sam didn’t believe me.
“What would you have named your Chinese restaurant?” I asked with a smirk.
“Something about a moon or a dragon,” she said.
“Well, I’m looking forward to the dumplings at Something About a Moon or a Dragon. I’m sure they’ll be fantastic.” I walked over and sat down next to Sam. Max had needed to get by me to go fill her water pitcher. I guess all of the sinks and faucets were communal. I looked down at Sam’s screen just as she alt-tabbed over to Word. She was typing a report. The music still blared out of the headphones on her lap. She crossed her legs and I noticed her jeans were unzipped.
“What’s up?” I asked her. “You doing OK?”
“No,” she huffed. I raised my eyebrow. “Schoolwork, not us. Us is something else.”
“OK.” I frowned. “Hard, or just behind?”
“Behind.” She scratched her head. “I’m not like Max. I can’t cut a couple hours out of every day for this shit.”
“Then don’t be like Max.” I shrugged. “Be like Sam.”
“How’s that supposed to help?” she worried. I smirked. That had been the advice my dad had given me when I was in college. I was angry about being compared to my brother at the time. That advice? Didn’t help with school. I hadn’t got it then; I hadn’t got it until now.
“If it doesn’t help, then you gotta make being Sam something that makes Sam’s life better,” I told her.
“Goddammit.” She frowned. Max came in and brought the water pitcher to her desk. She arranged the flowers in it. I poked Sam.
“What?” she asked. She pouted when I grinned at her.
“What kind of flowers should I get you?”
“Haagen-Dazs,” she said. I grinned and hugged her shoulders. I rubbed her hair as I stood up.
“Good luck with the work. Kick its ass,” I told her. She gave me a lovely smile and flipped me the bird. Max waited in serenity. I led her out.
“What the fuck does ‘Team Girlfriend’ mean?” that same kid who called me Max’s dad asked as we left. The door had been closed.
“It means don’t be a stalker creep and eavesdrop,” I answered. Max’s face had said she was going to answer the question without hesitation -- but when I called the kid a creep, she flashed him the iciest dismissive glare I had ever seen. Kid must’ve felt like an ant under a boot. We left. I took her hand when we got outside. Her glove, anyways. She gave me a look.
“I’m not Alex,” she worried.
“I don’t want you to be,” I told her. She looked confused. It was a beautiful evening. The sky was boiling off the sunset red into the empty purple night of a city sky. No clouds, no wind, still cold. We headed up the hill to the restaurant. It took a bit, but I soon had her opened up, telling me about classes and dreams and stupid stories. She kept circling back to stories about Alex, though. They were always great. I frowned. She never cast herself in that good of a light.
“What about Sam?” I asked as I opened the restaurant door for her. I think I’d picked this restaurant because there wouldn’t be a redhead working here. It was a young Chinese woman at the counter, and an older blonde woman busing the tables.
“Grab a seat and I’ll bring you a menu, or take things up at the counter if you just want takeout,” the older woman said. We took a seat.
“Specials are on the board. Flag me or Symone down when you’re ready.” She gestured to the girl at the counter. “Anything to drink?”
She dropped off our diet cokes as Max diligently read the menu. I stood up. I took her parka off her shoulders and hung it next to mine on pegs near the door. Our hats and handwear were piled up by the salt and soy sauce.
“See anything you like?” I asked.
“Lotsa stuff.” She frowned. “What do you like?”
“Never been a big fan of curry, so ... everything else,” I said.
“Oh, that doesn’t help narrow it down.” She shook her head. I smiled.
“Trust me?”
“With Alex’s life,” she said. That made me laugh harder than anything else. She smiled but seemed confused. I waved over the girl at the counter, and ordered up four random plates and then some dumplings.
“There’s no way we can eat that much,” Max hissed.
“Would you find me hoboish if I take some carry-out home after?” I asked.
“No, what? Hoboish? I don’t want you showing off.” She poked me in the chest. Her gloves had been big and thick. Her hands looked small and dainty.
“I’m really bad at showing off. I love this food,” I said. “And I need to resupply my fridge for a few days.”
“Oh, OK,” she said. She sipped her pop. I looked at her and worried.
“You’ve told me all of these great stories about Alex tonight,” I pointed out. “Tell me about Sam.”
“She’s a better roommate than I expected,” Max began. “We didn’t really talk until October 2nd. I didn’t like her friends. Alex saw Sam watching us and pushed us all together.”
“Good for Alex.” I frowned. “You don’t have to keep selling me on Alex, you know? I’m beaten down. All of you girls have won.”
“Why all of us?” she asked. Her straw slurped the bottom of her glass. She poured in the second half of her can of diet coke.
“Because I didn’t have a choice and I couldn’t believe my luck,” I said. No, that was a bad answer. “Because I care for you. I feel better when you’re around. I love making you smile. You’re way too hot for me, and I don’t believe for a second that’s something you’d think about. And I mean you, Max, not you three.”
“I’m only kinda hot,” she countered.
“Yeah, on a scale of 1 to 10, you just inch into the double digits. And you make me feel more confident and powerful than I had ever felt in my life.” I leaned in and hugged her. The plate of dumplings came out first. There was enough food there to be our whole meal. Like silly uncultured Canadians we ate with forks not chopsticks.
“So it’s about how you feel?” she worried. I shoved a dumpling in her mouth. She laughed smiling around it.
“No, you don’t get to say that. I felt like being a big man, a good guy, letting you three all go and live, love, and learn with each other and guys your own age,” I reminded her. She swallowed and wiped her lips before talking.
“Yeah, you were being an idiot about everything,” she warned. “You could’ve broken Alex’s heart.”
Elle
- 25.12.2022
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