Page 86 of Try Easy

Moment of Weakness

Seattle,Washington

February 2

Lou

Lou decided notto tell Paul about Keoni. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. She would make it up to him, whatever it took. She started with making sure that she was on time to meet him at Jefferson’s. When she walked into the crowded restaurant five minutes early, Paul was already there, seated at their usual corner table with a half-empty glass and dirty ashtray in front of him.

He was turned to face the window, leaning back in his chair with one knee crossed over the other. Lou studied Paul’s profile as he looked out over the sailboats on Lake Washington.

He had the coloring of his Irish family: black hair, fair skin, and brilliant blue eyes. His hair was thick and combed back from his face with a touch of pomade. He had a straight Roman nose, and a stern mouth that hinted at his sensible nature. He wore a navy-blue suit with a precisely knotted striped tie and matching pocket square.

Lou handed her coat to the hostess and took off her hat. Paul glanced away from the view as Lou walked toward him. He saw her and pushed back from the table to greet her.

“Sorry, I didn’t think I was late,” Lou said.

“You must still be on island time,” he teased.

Paul had ordered Lou her usual martini. She sat down in front of it, wishing for a beer. The cool, crisp taste of a Primo beer would hit the spot after her hard day. She picked up the martini and took a sip, hoping the strong vodka would chase away the remnants of her long, horrible day. She had made mistake after mistake at work and even been called into Mr. Finnegan’s office at closing. He’d given her an earful about the importance of her job and told her she would have to skip lunch tomorrow to make up for her mistakes.

The only highlight of the day had been seeing Mr. Tollison at Pacific Camera. Lou had hurried over to the camera shop on her lunch break and dropped off four rolls of film taken in Hawaii. They had chatted for too long, and she had ended up being late for work. She’d been chastised by her supervisor, a petty woman named Marlene who’d never liked Lou, and she hadn’t even eaten lunch.

She was starving. Picking up a handful of peanuts, she popped a few in her mouth, leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs. She surveyed the boats as she chewed, but she hardly saw the view. She was thinking of the view from Keoni’s bedroom window.

It took Lou a moment to realize Paul was calling her name.

“What?” she asked, forcing herself to focus on Paul’s face across the table.

Paul snapped his fingers and smiled. “Aha! There she is,” he said. He lit a cigarette and stared at Lou over the orange tip. “You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said, babe.”

“What?” Lou asked again, sipping her drink as she stalled for time. “Of course I have.” She cast around for a thread of the conversation, but it was gone. “I’ve had a hard day,” she admitted.

She waved her hand in front of the cloud of smoke Paul exhaled. She’d never been bothered by him smoking before, but after spending nearly two weeks breathing in the clear air of Hawaii, the smoke soured her stomach.

Paul raised his glass in her direction. “Welcome back, babe.” He chuckled as he tapped his glass to hers. “Don’t worry. You won’t be working at that job long. When we get married, you can quit the very next day and focus full-time on being Mrs. Sullivan.”

Lou took a gulp of her martini and swallowed it down. Paul plowed right on with the conversation. He told her about his day, which sounded even worse than hers. It had involved lots of filing, copying, and running back and forth to the courthouse in the heavy rain. Paul was the lowest member of the law office. He hadn’t passed the bar yet, and until he did his days would consist of the grunt work no one else wanted to do.

Paul didn’t seem to mind the tedium of his days. He considered it paying his dues.

Lou had never given Paul’s job much thought.

She had planned every aspect of her life out very carefully, except she had never given any thought to why Paul had chosen law school or why he wanted to be an attorney.

They’d known each other since high school, but they’d never discussed their dreams other than to plan for the future.

“Why do you want to be an attorney?” Lou asked, interrupting Paul’s story midsentence.

Paul stopped talking and finished his drink. He caught the waiter’s eye and shook his glass, signaling for another Manhattan before turning his gaze to Lou. His blue eyes sparkled in the dim lighting of the restaurant. “What kind of question is that?” he asked.

Lou shrugged, a gesture she had picked up in Hawaii. “I was just wondering.”

Paul was quiet. His eyes took on a suspicious gleam. “We’ve spoken of this many times.”

“Not that I remember.”

“My father is an attorney, and my uncle, too. You know that.”

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