I flashed a clueless smile. “Excuse me?”
“They practically accosted us in the lobby tonight,” groused Ricky, looking slightly less gray than he had five minutes earlier. “They were so desperate, they even offered to access our accounts from their cellphones so we could accept their invitations and become friends immediately. Why should I become friends with them? I don’t even know them. They’ve got a lot of nerve wanting to stick their noses in my private Facebook business.”
“I’m sure they were just trying to be cordial,” I defended. “They’re quite respectful of other people’s privacy.”
“Maybe they’d like to become friends of Bouchard Motors,” Gary piped up. “Do they ever travel to Maine? I give senior citizen discounts on year-end models.”
“For God’s sake, give it a rest,” his wife bristled. “Do you always have to be groveling at the feet of complete strangers?”
“There you go again.” Paula wagged her finger at Gary. “Acting common. Shame, shame. You know how much it pisses Sheila off when you associate with the little people. She’s afraid you’ll catch something vulgar. Like poverty.”
“Shut up, Paula,” snarled Sheila.
I sighed inwardly. Man, trying to keep these people focused was harder than trying to herd cats. I breathed with relief when I saw our waiter heading toward us, balancing a tray with the next course.
“Chinese vegetable soup,” he announced as he placed small soup bowls in front of each of us. He removed the empty appetizer platter from the table and hurried off again to someplace where the conversation was probably less hostile, which made me realize that if I was going to tease any information out of these people, I needed to skirt the issue rather than be so direct. Who knew that Chinese vegetable soup would provide the perfect diversion?
“Did anyone get a chance to eat in Volendam today?” I picked up my soup spoon and poised it over my bowl. “I lost my appetite after Charlotte’s accident, so I missed lunch.”
Mindy stared into space, her eyes crinkling in thought. “Come to think of it, that’s where Ricky and me were when Charlotte got creamed. We were waiting in line to get into a little restaurant across the street from the scene of the accident.”
“What’s this white gunk floating in the soup?” asked Ricky. He nudged it with his spoon. “Looks like a hunk of rubber.”
“We only had to wait about five minutes because two women who were sitting at a window table were just finishing up, so the hostess showed us right to their table.” She smiled smugly, her voice dripping with entitlement. “It was absolutely the best seat in the house. We saw the ambulance arrive, the bicyclist getting first aid, Charlotte’s body being carted off. We didn’t miss a trick.”
Ricky fished the questionable ingredient out of his soup and dumped it onto a saucer. He poked it with his finger. “What the hell? It is a hunk of rubber.” He squinted at his wife. “I’m not eating no rubber vegetables.”
“You’re never up for trying anything new,” Mindy complained. “Rubber vegetables are probably the latest trend in Chinese cuisine. I bet they’re a delicacy, like grilled scorpions or chicken’s feet.” She shrugged. “Could be that rubber has more nutritional value.”
Gary dipped his spoon into his soup bowl then held it aloft for Ricky to see what he’d retrieved. “It’s not rubber, dufus. It’s tofu.”
“Toe what?”
“Tofu. Unfermented soybean curd. It’s the vegetarian version of a T-bone steak.”
Ricky snorted derisively. “T-bone steak. Right. You’re so full of crap, I’m surprised your eyes haven’t turned brown.”
Gary shook his head, his voice almost sympathetic. “You haven’t changed at all, Hennessy. Still the same mental giant you were fifty years ago.”
“Like you’re so smart,” Mindy fired back. “I didn’t see you graduating first in our class. Or second. Or third. I can’t imagine how disappointed your daddy must have been when you told him you got beaten out by an orphan, a social misfit, and a girl who was afraid of her own shadow. If Bobby hadn’t disappeared from the picture, you wouldn’t have even ended up in the top five. That would have killed your daddy, wouldn’t it? Hard to show your face around town when your kid’s high school career ends up a total bust. No basketball scholarship and no academic awards.”
“Ya,” Ricky piled on. “You must have been turning cartwheels when Bobby made his exit. Finnegan gets bumped up to valedictorian, Laura gets salutatorian, and you get upgraded to fifth in the class. Pretty convenient if you ask me.”
I sat up straight in my seat. Pete Finnegan became valedictorian only after the infamous Bobby Guerrette disappeared? I sidled a glance across the aisle at Pete. Hmm. How interesting was that?
“Are you accusing my Gary of something criminal?” Sheila demanded.
“If the shoe fits,” taunted Ricky.
“How come you’re not throwing accusations at Pete?” Sheila raved on. “He’s the one who benefited most from Bobby’s absence.”
“And you know damn well I would have earned a basketball scholarship if I hadn’t blown my knee that last semester,” Gary defended.
“Ouch.” I cringed. “Basketball injury?”
“He slipped on a piece of toilet paper in the boys’ restroom,” Paula said with barely contained humor. “The captain of the basketball team, felled by a square of generic two-ply.”
“One-ply,” Ricky corrected. “They were too cheap to spring for two-ply.”
“Yah, well, if you football lunkheads hadn’t been horsing around, it never would have happened,” Gary sniped.
“You can’t take a joke,” accused Ricky. “You never could. Getting rid of all the toilet paper in the restroom was hilarious.”
“You and your stupid prank ruined my basketball career,” Gary bellowed.
“Ya, he coulda been a contenda,” said Paula, aping Marlon Brando.
“Are you blaming me?” Ricky challenged. “Hey, I ain’t taking the rap for your accident. Nobody pushed you. You went down all on your own.”
“And one of these days you’re going down, too, Hennessy.” Gary’s jaw pulsed angrily. “We’ll see how you like it.”
Mindy gasped. “Is that a threat?”
Paula threw her arms into the air and circled them around her head erratically, like a mime imitating chaos. “Geez-Louise, don’t get Mindy in a huff, or she’ll make up a derogatory cheer about you. Remember the one she made up about Laura and taught to the whole squad? Lau-ra, Lau-ra, she’s so scary. Looks like a dog, and acts like a ferret.”
I stared at Paula, horrified. Oh, my Lord. If my schoolmates had been that cruel to me, I’m not sure I would have had the courage to show my face in class again. The Francis Xavier cheerleaders apparently weren’t paragons of school spirit and good will.
They were bullies.
I sucked in a deep, calming breath.
I hated bullies.
“Ferret doesn’t rhyme with scary,” Sheila pointed out.
“No one asked you,” spat Mindy.
“Was there anyone on your squad of losers who realized that ‘scary’ could be rhymed with ‘fairy’?” questioned Paula. “Laura acted a hell of a lot more like the good fairy than a rodent.”
Mindy skewered her with a look that inspired more fear than the Death Star’s going operational. “You would have sold your grandmother’s dentures to be on the cheerleading squad, Paula Peavey, so I’m not listening to any of your trash talk. Here’s a cheer for you: Paul-a, Paul-a, can’t you see? You’re eaten up by jeal-ou-sy.”
Paula snorted with laughter. “Oh, please. Your glory days have gone to your head.” She flashed a snarky grin. “And everything else has gone to your butt.”