Of Course

Chapter Three

"I've come to ask you something." This time she was just waiting. No jingling of the bells on the door, no sudden gust of air, just calm, quietness.

He didn't want to hear anymore. Clarence's question was still ringing in his head. Couldn't she just let him rest? But he was tired, and she wasn't a hyper goybie. So he sat down on the stool, and dropped his apron on the counter.

"What is it?"

"Andy. He wants you to come to his birthday party."

"And what do I care?" he grumbled.

"Don't pretend you don't care about Andy."

He frowned. "What if I don't?"

"Then you're a liar."

"I suppose you could say that it's my problem."

"Well fix your problem and come to Andy's birthday party."

"I don't want to. Find someone else."

"Andy doesn't want anyone else, he wants you."

"Well too bad he has you for a sister."

"Oh. Is this because of our little squabble?"

"Little squabble? I guess you've taken to renaming things."

"What are you talking about?"

"Our 'little squabble' of course."

"Jeez, Grayson, why can't you just come to Andy's birthday party?" she cried, throwing her hands in the air. "He misses you terribly."

"Because you'll be there. And you ruin everything."

Silence had been stunned.

"Plus," he continued, "I don't really feel like seeing Andy."

"Why Grayson Almann! You should be ashamed!" she cried, rising up.

"Ashamed?!" he cried, starting up. "I've done nothing to be ashamed of. It's you who caused a rift between us, not me. Tell Andy that he can have a happy birthday so long as you go rot in a hole." And he snatched up his apron and left.

---

"Wash your hands, won't you?" said Clarence, looking up from peeling potatoes. "It's bad enough that you-"

"Oh shut up, Clarence, shut up!" he cried, storming over to the hook, and hanging his coat with such force that one of the loops snapped.

"What. You think I don't know what happened out there? The whole residency heard."

"I don't care if you heard, just stop talking."

"Sure, Grayson."

And for a few minutes, all he heard was shnip, shnip-ing of potatoes being peeled.

"You like Andy, Grayson?"

"Yeah."

"Then go to his birthday party.

"She'll be there."

"Don't go for her, go for Andy. Don't bother about her."

He picked at the crack in the wall. "She's like a nettle, though. Never goes away."

"Like I said, don't bother about her."

He sat in silence. Clarence finished peeling potatoes and set them on the cutting board. She finished preparing the potatoes. The timer for the bacon emitted its tiny, minute beeps. She glanced in his direction, and moved to check it, but he reached over and yanked the oven door open.

Pulling on an ovenmit, he pulled the pan out of the oven and placed it on the stove. He judiciously cut the meat, placed it onto plates, and waited for her to add garnish. He mashed potatoes, salted soup, cut creamrolls, and stirred goulash. They served two mealtimes. They washed dishes. They hung up their aprons.

"Goodnight, Grayson."

He nodded.

They went home.

---

He stared at the phone hanging on the wall. With a sharp breath, he placed his hand on it and picked it up. He dialed the numbers like he lived in eternity. Holding it to his ear, he waited.

"Hello?"

"I'll come."

"Grayson? Is that you?"

"... You'd better not mess it up."

And he hung up.