The Big Crunch (23 page)

“
Big
is Sammy’s claim to fame. The biggest and the best. I hope you’re hungry.”

The menu, as big as it was, had limited choices: six types of steak on the left side, with pork chops, lamb chops, scallops, and
whole lobster on the right. June decided on the scallops. They would be the easiest to eat. Her dad ordered a rib eye steak.

While they waited for their food, he asked her how work was going.

“Incredibly boring,” June said. “It’s going to take at least another month. Maybe longer. Wretched Hitler is getting more perturbed every day.”

“Wretched Hitler?”

“I mean Gretchen Hiller. Some of the women call her Wretched Hitler. Not to her face, of course.”

Elton Edberg grinned. “I wonder what my employees call me.”

“The Terminator,” June said.

“Really?” He frowned slightly, then shrugged. “That’s not so bad. At least it shows that I have their respect.”

“I was kidding,” June said.

“Oh?” he said, not at all embarrassed. “You have your mother’s sense of humor.”

“Mom has a sense of humor?”

“Oh yes. She keeps me on my toes. I imagine you do the same with Wes. How are you two doing?”

“Fine,” said June.

“That’s it? Just ‘fine'?”

June nodded. Her father frowned.

The awkward moment was interrupted by the arrival of their meals. June’s sea scallops were the size of hockey pucks. Her dad’s rib eye steak was almost four inches thick.

“Look at this potato!” her dad said.

“Are you sure that’s not a loaf of bread?” June said.

He stabbed the potato with his knife. “Nope. Potato.”

The outsize portions made her dad feel important, but for June, everything about the place made her feel small.

“So what are we celebrating?” June asked as she cut into a giant scallop with her giant knife.

“Oh,
that
!” he said as if it had entirely slipped his mind. “Benford Bank has offered me a full-time position.”

“Here?” June didn’t even try to keep the hope and desperation out of her voice.

“Well … for the next month, at least. Actually, there are several possibilities — Omaha, Des Moines, Fargo …” He cut a large piece of steak, put it in his mouth, and chewed. June had been taught to not ask questions of people who were in the process of chewing, but this was too much.

“Fargo?”

He started to answer, hesitated, then made an effort to swallow, opened his mouth … and froze. For a moment, June thought he was making a funny face, though she couldn’t imagine why. Then his eyes went big and round and he clutched his throat; the skin around his eyes turned red, veins bulged, his mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

June heard herself scream.

“Be still my heart!” Wes’s mom put her hands to her chest. “Is my son going to consent to joining us for dinner?”

Wes rolled his eyes. His mom smirked and stirred something on the stove.

“We hardly see you anymore,” she said.

“That’s because I work ten hours a day. Also, June’s only going to be here for a few weeks, so, you know …”

“Is everything all right with you two?” his mom asked.

“Yeah. Her dad is taking her to a restaurant tonight.”

“It’s good to take a break sometimes. Will we ever get to meet her?”

“Uh …”

“Yeah!” Paula materialized in the doorway. “I want to know what she looks like.”

“Why don’t you bring her by for dinner tomorrow night?” his mom said.

“I bet she’s really pretty,” said Paula.

“Uh … I could ask her.”

“Or maybe she’s ugly,” Paula said.

“She is
not
ugly!”

“We could do steaks on the grill. Everybody likes steak.”

“Daddy!”

He was trying to stand up, one hand clutching his throat, the other waving desperately in the air. June could sense movement, every head in the restaurant turning toward their table. A man — their waiter — appeared behind her father and wrapped his arms around him. She heard a grunt of effort, then a wet, popping sound, and something hit her on the chest.

Her father drew a ragged breath. The waiter released him; her father slumped back into his chair. June looked down at the half-chewed hunk of steak rolling down the front of her white top, and she realized what had just happened. Her father had been choking.

“Thank you,” he gasped, looking up at the waiter.

“Not a problem, sir. The Heimlich maneuver is a part of our training.”

“Yes, well, you have been very well trained.”

“Thank you, sir. Enjoy the rest of your meal.”

June used her napkin to pick the hunk of masticated meat from her lap.

“Excuse me,” she said. She dropped the napkin on the floor and walked quickly through the restaurant to the restroom, where she did her best to wipe the stain from her top. She was able to get most of it out, but the wet spot between her breasts was obvious. Leaning over the hand dryer, holding out the front of her top to blast it with hot air — what had just happened hit her with full force.

He had almost died. If it had happened at home, with no one else around, she would have stood by helplessly as he choked to death. A whirlpool formed inside her chest, threatening to suck her insides out; she let out a gasp, squeezed her eyes shut, and sank to her knees on the restroom floor.

“Are you all right?” asked a woman’s voice.

June forced herself to breathe, to open her eyes. A woman in a waiter’s uniform was bending over her. June managed a weak smile.

“I’m fine,” she said. “It was just a twinge.” She stood up shakily and quickly left the restroom.

Her father had finished most of his dinner. He smiled and asked if she was okay.

“I’m fine,” she said. A fresh napkin had been laid next to her plate.

“You were gone a long time. I sent one of the waitresses in to check on you.”

“I was trying to clean my shirt.”

“Oh. Well, it looks fine! Dig in!” He went right back to his rib eye, eating with as much gusto as before, but taking smaller bites.

June was careful not to ask any questions while her dad was chewing. In fact, she was terrified to do or say anything. Her appetite was gone. All she could do was watch her dad shovel food into his mouth.

Noticing that June wasn’t eating, he set down his knife and fork.

“I’ve spoiled your appetite, haven’t I?”

“You almost
died
!” she said.

“But I didn’t.”

June glared at him. “You would have if that waiter hadn’t done that Heimlich thing.”

“I’m sure if he hadn’t, you would have. Don’t they teach the Heimlich maneuver in school?”

“Not in any school
I’ve
been to. Besides, I thought you were having a heart attack.”

He shrugged and said, “Oh, well. Life is just one near-death experience after another.”

“Is that going to be another one of your sayings?”

He gave her his patented Elton Edberg smile. “Do you like it?”

Wes said, “He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“That’s not the point.”

“So what
is
the point?”

“The
point
is, he almost
died
!”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t.” Wes was feeling irritable. He thought he might be experiencing withdrawal symptoms, like he’d gotten
addicted to spending several hours a day with June. Talking on the phone only heightened his frustration.

June said, “But he
could
have. It could happen to anybody, anytime. So what’s the use?”

“The use of what?”

“Of everything!”

Wes couldn’t tell if she was really asking him that, or just trying to confuse him.

“I guess we just have to have fun while we’re still alive,” he said.

“All you think about is having fun. And eating.”

Huh?
Where did
that
come from? Wes didn’t know what to say, so he waited for June to continue.

She said, “I mean, what are we
doing,
anyway?”

“Talking on the phone?”

June didn’t say anything for a second; Wes was afraid she was going to hang up on him again.

“Why don’t you come over?” she said. “Right now.”

“Now? It’s almost ten!”

“So?”

“They’d never let me use the car this late.”

“You’re not coming over?”

“I don’t think I should.”

“Thanks a lot!”

June knew she was being a whiny bitch again, making him feel bad when he hadn’t done anything wrong. Why did she want him to come over anyway? He was right — the minute he got there, it would be time for him to go home. It was just stupid. But she hated that he wouldn’t do it.

Wes said, “Look, if you really want me to, I’ll take a bus downtown.”

“My dad would just tell you to go home.”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

June closed her eyes and swallowed.

“June?”

“What.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Yes. No. No, it would be stupid.”

She heard him exhale, probably with relief.

“My mom wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow,” he said.

“To your house?”

“They want to meet you.”

“Why?”

“My sister wants to know if you’re as beautiful as I think you are.”

“Oh!” He thought she was beautiful? June looked in the mirror. No way.

“June? Are you there?”

“I’m here.”

After Wes said good night to June, he went downstairs. His parents were on the sofa, watching a talk show. Paula was sitting in the recliner, reading.

“June says she can come for dinner tomorrow,” he told his mom.

“That’s wonderful,” she said.

“Who’s coming to dinner?” his dad asked.

“Wes’s
girlfriend,
“ said Paula. “They’re in
love.”

Wes rolled his eyes. His mom laughed. His dad went back to watching TV.

“Do you think we could have something besides steak?” Wes said.

“Is she vegetarian?”

“No, it’s just … she has this problem with steak.” He thought for a moment, then added, “We probably shouldn’t have roast chicken, either.”

J
UNE OPENED A CAN OF TOMATO SOUP,
dumped it in a pan, and put it on the stove. She sliced cheddar cheese and made a sandwich — lots of butter on the outside — and put it in a frying pan. She tore open a bag of prewashed salad greens, put them in a wooden bowl, and put it on the table with a bottle of ranch dressing. She set the table for one.

All her dad had to do was turn on the burners, and in about five minutes he would be eating. Grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup — the ultimate comfort food, and hard to choke on. The salad was because she’d promised her mom to make sure he ate something green with every meal.

She frowned at the table she had set. Her mom would have put out candles, or a floral centerpiece. June shrugged; she was not her mother. Besides, Wes would be picking her up in about twenty minutes. Time to start working on her face. She wanted to make a good impression.

Wes said, “Wow.”

June smiled.

Wes said, “You look … really different.”

June’s smile quivered and began to fade.

Wes said, “Good! I mean, you look great.”

“Too much makeup?” she asked. She might have gone overboard on the eye shadow.

“No! I mean, I’ve just never seen you so, uh, glamorous.”

“Is glamorous okay?”

“Yeah! I mean, you look fine.”

He was lying. She felt a little sick. His parents would hate her.

“I’ll go back upstairs and wash it off.”

“No! We don’t want to be late. My mom has a thing about that.” He took her hand and coaxed her into the car. “Besides, they don’t care what you look like.”

On the drive over to Wes’s house, June could feel her insides crumbling. She knew she had on too much makeup. It was supposed to make her confident and safe, like wearing a mask, but suddenly she was feeling like a clown. A slutty clown. She pulled down the visor and regarded herself in the tiny mirror. Wes was watching her out of the corner of his eye. She took a tissue from her purse and began wiping away some of the eye shadow. Of course, it smeared. She worked on it all the way there. By the time they pulled into his driveway, she had succeeded in making both eyes look the same: like a sad raccoon.

“How do I look now?” she asked.

“You look beautiful,” Wes said. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

June examined her reflection. “Yeah, like I haven’t slept in a week.”

Paula was standing in the entryway waiting for them. Her enormous eyes locked on June like twin lasers. When she opened her mouth to speak, Wes braced himself, certain that something embarrassing was about to come out.

Paula said, “Hi.”

“You must be Paula,” June said. Wes could tell she was nervous, biting her lip, messing up her lipstick.

“You’re prettier than I thought,” Paula said.

June tipped her head. “What did you think I’d look like?”

“No offense, but my brother normally doesn’t have very good taste.”

Wes faked a slap at the top of Paula’s head; Paula ducked, laughing. June was smiling — that was good.

Their mom’s voice came from the kitchen, “Are they here?”

“Yes!” Paula yelled.

“Come on,” Wes said. “Let’s meet the rest of the zoo.”

June had been prepared for the sort of grilling her dad had put Wes through, but the Andrews family wasn’t like that. Wes’s mom was friendly and nice, and her questions were easy ones —
How do you like living downtown? I hear you have a very unusual job! Do you like lasagna?
— nothing about the future, nothing she couldn’t answer. Mr. Andrews, who looked like a thicker, older version of Wes, was nice too. He didn’t say much, just a few remarks, like asking her what her dad did, and telling her that Benford Bank was “a fine company, very respected.” Paula was the chattiest one in the family, and the most interesting because anything might come out of her mouth at any time.

As they were sitting down to dinner, Paula said, “Can you show me how to do makeup?” That was a little embarrassing because it make everybody look at her face at the same time.