Lucky Caller(16)

“I thought you worked at that bagel place, though?” I tried sounding casual, like I didn’t know exactly what BAGELS! was, like our mom didn’t used to take us up there on weekends for breakfast when we were younger.

“Yeah, the weekend hours there are just mornings, so I can do both.”

The elevator doors opened then, and we stepped off into the lobby. Next to the elevator was the Mama Bear ballroom, which was already set up with tables covered in purple cloths. A few people also dressed in black moved around laying place settings.

Jamie paused in front of the ballroom, so I paused too. “It’s good money, if you ever want to…” He trailed off, scratching his head. “Just … They’re usually looking for extra people, especially for spring and summer, so you know … If you’re looking.”

I nodded. “Cool.”

“It’s also kind of fun,” he said. “Seeing the weddings and stuff. Like, it’s cool seeing…”

“What?”

He looked a little embarrassed. “Just … seeing people happy like that.” A shrug. “Anyway, I should…” He gestured to the room.

“Yeah, no. Me too. See you.”

“See you,” he said, and headed off into the ballroom.

I watched the line of his shoulders as he retreated, and was seized suddenly with the memory of him sitting across from me on the school bus in middle school. We used to take up our own row on the ride home after school, sitting with our backs to the windows, facing the aisle and each other. Rose usually sat in the row in front of us, headphones on. Sometimes she’d join in whatever we were talking about, but oftentimes, she kept to herself. You and Jamie are in your own world, she’d say. Seriously, the things you guys talk about sometimes …

And we did talk about all manner of things, dissecting movies and shows we’d both seen, talking about teachers and school stuff, trying to think up the weirdest hypothetical situations.

“Would you rather be a clown or marry a clown?” I asked one afternoon. Jamie had pondered this as the bus rolled to a stop and a kid near the front headed off.

“Clowns make people happy,” he replied eventually. “I would be the clown.”

“Clowns are terrifying, though.”

“Maybe it’s like fifty-fifty, happy to terrifying.”

“Like terrifying half the time, or terrifying to half of all people?”

“Second one,” he said. “I guess I’d try to avoid the terrified half, and stick to the happy half. What about you?”

“Neither.”

“You can’t neither this, that’s not allowed.”

“I guess I’d be the clown? But I don’t like the idea that half of all people would hate me. And I feel like it’s at least half. Maybe more like seventy-thirty.”

“Then maybe you should marry the clown.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that. They’re terrifying,” I replied, and Jamie had grinned.





10.


WE WENT TO THE DANTIST’S for a movie night that evening, me and Mom and Sidney. Sidney and I went downstairs to the basement “media room” after dinner to check out Dan’s collection of DVDs and pick one for us all to watch. Dan was fairly behind-the-times with respect to streaming services.

The DVDs sat on shelves lining the far wall. On the opposite side of the room was Dan’s video-making setup. He had an easel where his latest project was displayed (a bouquet of flowers in a glass vase) and a little table with paints and brushes and stuff on it. There was a camera set up on a tripod and one of those lights with a white umbrella behind it, like a real photographer might have.

“There’s a lot of weird stuff in here,” Sidney murmured, running her fingers along the titles on the shelf. She sputtered a shocked laugh. “The Big Easy? Ew. Ach. Blech. Yuck.”

“It’s a nickname for New Orleans,” I said.

She pulled out the case. “Why does the cover look like that, then?”

I shrugged. “It’s probably about people having a bunch of sex. In New Orleans.”

Sidney recoiled, shoving the DVD back in the case. “I don’t wanna watch Dan’s sex movie.”

“It’s not really a sex movie. I just said that.”

“We can’t risk it.”

“If it were bad, Mom wouldn’t let us watch it.”

“Should we bring it up there and see what happens?”

“No. Pick something normal.”

“You’re supposed to be picking too.”

“I trust your judgment,” I said, though that was patently absurd. Sidney did have her wise moments, but once when she was younger, she ate half a bottle of tropical fruit Tums because she thought they were candy.

I wandered over to the easel while Sidney reviewed our options. I peered at the half-finished painting, the little squiggles and segments with tiny sky-blue numbers inside them. It was actually really detailed. I wondered how long it took Dan to do one of these things, how long it took to get a video together.

I stepped over to the camera. For as much as Dan eschewed Netflix and the like, he seemed pretty cutting edge when it came to his video technology. The camera looked totally professional. I reached for it to get a better look, but it was attached to the top of the tripod. A little lever was positioned to the left, and I tried to slide it to release the camera. It was stuck, though, so I had to give it a good bit of force.