Read Online Until the Real Thing Comes Along by Elizabeth Berg - Free Book Online Page B

she says. “How nice to hear your voice.”
    “Yours, too,” I say, and it’s true.
    A long silence, and then Muriel says, “So? What can I do for you?”
    “Oh! Well, I had a message that
you
called.”
    “You did? I didn’t call. Wait a minute.” I hear her cover the phone, then yell, “Artie? Did you call Patty Murphy? Patty Murphy’s on the phone, did you call her?”
    A moment, and then there is Artie’s voice, saying, “I’ll call you right back.”
    “Okay,” I say. And hang up. And wait for about twenty minutes, without getting any phone calls. And then I leave for my manicure, which will be the only good thing that has happened to me for many, many days.
    •    •    •
    “Don’t start telling me how unrealistic I am,” I tell Amber.
    She looks up. “Did I say anything?”
    “Not yet.”
    “I’m not going to say anything like that. Listen, what are you going to do? We love who we love.”
    “I wish you’d tell my mother that. When I told her I’d stopped seeing Mark, she threw a dinner roll at me.” And delivered a loud lecture about how she had been patient, but what in hell was I waiting for? My father put his hand over hers, and she pulled it away. “She’s ruining her
life!”
she told him.
    “Okay, Marilyn,” he’d said.
    “Well she is! Someone has got to tell her!”
    “Okay.”
    “Mom,” I said. “You don’t understand. When I kissed him, it was like watching someone else do it.”
    “I don’t think I need to hear any of these personal details, Patty.”
    “But you do! Don’t you see how lucky you were? Don’t you see how hard it is to find what you found?”
    “Well, now, she’s got a point there, Marilyn,” my father said.
    She got up, started bussing dishes angrily.
    “Mom!” I said. “Why are you so
angry
?”
    “Marilyn!” my father said.
    She turned to him. “What?!”
    “I’m not done!”
    He pointed to the half-full plate she had in her hand.
    She gave it back to him, then left the room.
    “Jesus,” I said, extremely quietly.
    My father raised his eyebrows, stared at me over his glasses. “This is what I mean. Lately, she’ll fly right off the handle, just like that. Ten or fifteen minutes go by, she’s fine again.” He reached across me for another dinner roll. It made him grunt a little, doing it.
    “I can’t do it, Dad. I can’t stay in a relationship just because the guy looks good on paper.”
    “You don’t have to, honey.”
    “Well, she seems to think—”
    “She’s worried about you. She wants you to be happy. She wants you to have a baby before it’s too late. Not that it’s anywhere near too late, Scout, you’ve got lots of time. Lots of time.” He buttered a roll. Generously.
    “Dad.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Since when do you use butter?”
    “Shh!”
    “But your—”
    “Listen, kiddo. You make the most out of a situation, you know?”
    I said nothing.
    “Am I right?”
    “Okay,” I said. And then, “Dad? I don’t really have a lot of time.”
    “Well.” He put his roll down, took my hand. “I know.”
    Now Amber says, “I don’t blame you for honoring your true feelings. It’s very important to do that. I know too many people who tried to talk themselves into love and then suffered terriblyfor it. Terribly.” She squints at a nick in my thumbnail, tsks, sighs, starts filing it smooth.
    “How?”
    “What?”
    “How did they suffer?”
    She stares at me blankly.
    “The people who tried to talk themselves into it. Into love. How did they suffer?”
    “Oh. Well, I don’t really know anyone like that. I was just trying to make you feel better.” She shrugs, cracks her gum.
    “I just don’t know what to do anymore.”
    “Hey. Get a cat. You know? People who live with cats are 70 percent happier than those who live with people.”
    “That’s not true!”
    “I swear to God.”
    “That can’t be true.”
    “It is. Dogs, 40 percent.”
    I stop talking, take some comfort from the sounds of