Coincidences

Act LV

As he left, Mr. Reed snickered in the dark. He had quite a talk earlier, and he himself knew that this "complication" of his isn't going to be all that easy. Putting all the information he just gathered until now, he admitted that Martin's chance with her are as low as they can get.

"Sorry, Marty. But if you really want to be with her, you're gonna have to find yourself some more help."

He threw the third cigarette butt out the window; its ashes plummeting down from the heights.

__________________

"What a catastrophic day."

I tossed my backpack, helped myself some cookies and cream ice cream, and fled to my room. I set the mug of frozen delight on the desk and opened the drawer, grabbing a tin can as I closed it again. Prying the lid with my fingernails, I peeked inside and counted the money I had stored in there. Fifty, twenty, ten, five, one, change. Ok, this is enough. I scanned my closet afterwards, hunting for an outfit that would suit me fine and meet her tastes. A polo shirt? No. A nice formal jacket would do, a shirt under that, and some jeans. Never mind the jeans, black pants are better. Doing this makes me feel like some kind of bratty girl in her preteens.

Then, the last thing: her.

I swiped my phone from the bed and tapped on the envelope icon, the one for messaging. Spotting Zoey's contact in an instant, I expertly composed what can qualify as an seventy word essay and clicked send. After verifying that the message was actually sent and delivered, I flopped onto the bed and sighed in relief that everything was fully set.

"Ok."

The sound of a van rumbled outside, meaning that Dad was already home. The garage door rattled open and noisily, and then, his voice followed soon after. He announced his return, saying, "Martin, you there?"

"I'm here!" I yelled. He came upstairs and, all enthusiastic, drew near me with an enormous smile.

"You won't guess what happened today," I goaded. It looks to me like he has some significant news of his own.

I was incapable of guess. "You're probably right. I can't take a hint." Dad took that sense of sarcasm in depreciation. "Just tell me your big scoop."

He stood in place for a while, beaming like an infant child and, when he was ready, he said, in big, clear words, "I got myself a date."

Wow. I suppose I left my eyes wide open, because he clapped his hands in front of my face, astonishing me. The news were really a shock. I mean that, that is, for various reasons. One of them is that, well, yeah, I have yet another coincidence in my hands. Another is that, Dad never found himself a different partner, after Mom passed away. In fact, he grieved for her for a ridiculously long amount of time, so his flirtatious conduct is most certainly new for me. For him to get over it that easily...; it's implausible and unlikely.

"I seriously don't know what to say about that," said I, still absorbing the facts. "Congrats? Should I really say that?"

"Well, yeah! You should be totally happy for me. Isn't it great?"

"Of course, but who is it, then?" I asked, for I was intrigued to know more.

He winked at me with his left eye and lifted his index finger up to his mouth, shushing onomatopoeia. Dad simply told me this brief sentence, "It is a secret."

"Huh?"

"Don't worry. You'll get to see her," and then, he whispered something inaudible to himself. He wasn't going to let this surreptitious secret of his free any time soon. He pranced off to his office and shut the door behind him.

Well, that was unexpected. Where's my notebook when you need it?

What also caught me off guard was the phone ringing with decibels up to those of stadiums. Good thing I checked it; it was a familiar number. Zoey's number. I asked myself if I should answer it. Maybe she wanted to convince me to call the date off. Well, that's not gonna happen. I swiped the screen to end the call. Yet, the phone rang again. She sure was insistent. This time, I picked it up.

"Hello?" I greeted.

The speaker revealed a troubled Zoey. "Martin," she begged, "Please, let's not go. I don't wanna ruin our friendship."

I rejected her plead, strongly implying, "No, I'm not calling it off, and that's the end. I swear, it won't ruin it, unless you mean your 'relationship' with those two. Zoey, forget about them. Act like they never existed; they never had anything to do with us two. Just letting you know, we're going, whether you want it or not."

"Martin, I'm busy. Mom's not gonna be home tomorrow until late at night, so―," she stated, until, although it isn't like me, I hung up to keep it this way.

Shortly after that call, I received another one from Doc. I immediately answered and joyfully exclaimed, "Hello, thanks for the advice! Guess what? I asked Zoey out on a date (kinda sounded like Dad there for a second). So, what's the next move?"

There was a bit of static over the line, but, when he spoke, it was clear enough for me to hear. "Martin, what did you do?"

"I told you," I repeated. "I have a date with Zoey."

'Ah... um, Martin, I think I might not be of any more help."

That was unpredicted, too. "What? Johnny, are you out of your mind? So far, you've been the greatest help I've had."

"I... I know, but―." The line was cut off. If anything, all he just said was confusing. As I sat down the bed, I found myself squishing the plushie from the mall. It's a bit dirty, since I haven't washed it yet. Its cotton fur was still fluffy, despite being covered with whatever filth it has. I firmly grasped it and thought to myself that I will definitely make the most of it tomorrow.

As I sped my way downstairs, I headed to the laundry room and threw it to the washing machine. And as told, Dad watched the entire movie.