bumped into your mother on Main Street last week. I helped her out, actually. She tripped and her bag went flying. I helped her gather everything up while we talked.”
I have trouble picturing this. I have never seen my mother trip. She is always perfectly composed, pulled together, even-gaited. And the idea of her crouched over a hot sidewalk picking up keys and lipsticks and papers and personal items while chatting with Weber . . . is too much.
“She talked awfully fast. I think she was afraid, at first, that I was going to tell her I was yet another guy Gracie had been schtupping. When I said I was a friend of yours, she looked relieved.”
“That’s what you told her? That you’re a friend of mine?”
“I may have said boyfriend. I don’t remember my exact phrasing. As soon as we got past that introduction, she acted like we’d been friends forever. She can be very charming, can’t she?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sure you do. You can’t claim to know everything in every book you’ve ever read, and not know that your own mother is charming.”
“Are you trying to ruin my life?”
Weber scratches his stomach, right across Bruce’s guitar. “I wanted to meet your family, Lila, and I knew you weren’t going to introduce me to them.”
“You never even asked me to!”
“If I had, would you have said yes?”
“No!” I am practically yelling.
“I’m sweating,” he says. “Can we please continue discussing your paranoia at Dairy Queen?”
“I’m not paranoid,” I say, allowing him to lighten the tone slightly. I head toward his truck. “All of my concerns are totally valid.”
“Well, my favorite person was your grandmother,” he says. “She is totally cool.”
We are in the truck now, and the blast of air conditioning stands the hairs on my arms on end. I look over at Weber, and his beer belly and his T-shirt, and the way he says “totally cool” depresses me. I can’t believe I let him have sex with me. I can’t believe I enjoy it.
“I think your grandmother and I were meant to know each other,” he says. “I felt that so strongly when I was with her in her room. It’s just one more reason that you and I needed to cross paths.”
“I can’t stand it when you talk like that,” I say. “You know I can’t stand it when you talk like that.”
He gives me a look meant to show that he has endless compassion for my ignorance. “Lila, just because you’re a little lost right now is no reason to attack my belief system.”
“I’m attacking you, you bastard, not the bullshit you believe in. You raided my life without my permission.”
“Well, your grandmother and I talked about all that bullshit and more. Life, love, relationships, you name it. She told me that I reminded her of the best of both of her parents.” Weber nods, and taps his thumb against the steering wheel. “You know what? I’ve only met her once, but I think I love your grandmother.” He nods again. “I do. I love her.”
I feel something flicker in my chest. I think, Am I jealous? I shake it off. I shake all of it off, because how can I respond to his loving my grandmother after spending fifteen minutes with her? How can I respond to the absurd way he talks? All I can do is brush past the fluff and look for the facts.
“So,” I say, “you have essentially told my entire family that we’re involved.”
We pull into the Dairy Queen parking lot, and Weber screeches into the only remaining parking space. The place is packed with kids and parents and teenagers. It appears that half of Ramsey has decided to go out for ice cream at the same time.
“We need to approach this situation seriously,” Weber says, scanning the crowded scene. “You find two seats at a picnic table, and I’ll order. You want the usual?”
I nod, and climb out of the truck. Ordinarily I would never allow myself to be seen with him in such a busy public place, but that doesn’t seem to matter anymore. Everyone important knows. Everyone is free to judge me, or ask questions, or laugh behind my back. My effort to keep myself apart, to keep up the facade of perfection, is failing in every part of my life.
I find a seat at the end of a picnic bench and then look at him, standing fourth in line at the ice cream window. He jiggles on the