Caught In The Act

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“Really,” Jack said happily, complacently. “She’s my best girl, my only girl.” With a proprietary air, he slid his arm across my shoulders.

I jerked as the weight of his arm fell on me. When I did, my left elbow snapped forward, bumping hard into my Coke. It toppled, the lid popped off and the dark liquid ran unerringly and with great speed across the table and into Curt’s lap.

I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut.

Curt sputtered as the cold Coke drenched him. He jumped to his feet as much as he could in the booth and grabbed for a cluster of napkins. He built a paper dam to hold back the surging flood, but it breached the dam at the sides and made new caramel-colored spatters on his khakis.

Such was the state of my nerves that I started to giggle. I slapped a hand over my mouth, but I couldn’t stop.

“I’m sorry,” I said or tried to say. I think I got as far as I before the giggles got me again. I may not be good at a lot, but at making a fool of myself, I’m first-rate.

“Are you okay, old man?” Jack asked Curt with a complete lack of genuine interest. If I wanted to think bad thoughts, I’d think Jack was enjoying the whole mess.

“Here.” Airy thrust a handful of napkins at Curt. She slapped others down on the soda on the table, sopping it up. She at least had been practical and run to the condiment stand where she’d grabbed as many napkins as were available.

“We need a cleanup over here,” Sean called to a girl behind the counter. She nodded and disappeared into the back, never to return.

“Thanks,” Curt took the proffered napkins from Airy and brushed at his soaked pants. He tried to slide out of the booth without getting splattered anymore and ended up sitting on a couple of ice cubes that had flown straight and true to where they could do the most damage.

“You’d better go home and get changed,” said Jack blandly. “We wouldn’t want you to catch a cold or anything. I’ll take care of Merry.”

He sounded so proprietary that I almost gagged. That’s what happens, I told myself, when you neglect to tell someone that things have moved beyond his knowledge of the situation.

Curt looked at me and I looked sadly back. I had stopped giggling, but now all I wanted to do was cry. He probably hated me for not being open with him.

Well, no. I caught myself. Not hate. That was too nasty a word for Curt. Maybe he just disliked me, thought I had deceived him, duped him, played him false, hoodwinked him, defrauded him, taken him for a ride.

I took a deep breath. When I started reeling off synonyms, I was in way over my emotional head.

Too much for one day, Lord. Way too much.

“Merry, are you all right?” Curt asked quietly as he stood beside the booth.

I saw that he understood how confused, distressed and embarrassed I felt. Maybe he even understood what a rotten person I was sometimes. Tears began to slide down my cheeks. I didn’t deserve someone as nice as him to fall for me. I deserved someone insensitive and unfeeling like Jack. Not that I wanted him, but I deserved him.

Airy looked at me in surprise. “It’s okay, Merry,” she said kindly. “His slacks will clean.”

Jack looked at me and stiffened when he saw the tears. “Come on, Merry. What’s the big deal? It’s only spilled soda.”

“She’s had a very bad night,” Curt explained. “I need to get her home.”

Everybody looked at me, and all I could do was nod and sniff. I smiled a wobbly smile in Curt’s direction and grabbed my scarf and purse. Not only did I need to get out of here before I made a greater fool of myself; I also had to get Curt away before he mentioned the cause for my bad night. It appeared that Airy didn’t yet know that Arnie was dead, and I didn’t want to be there when she found out. Curt, of course, didn’t realize the danger.