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A La Carte

Joseph Grant

    “Hello, dear. Just you?” The hostess asked.
    “Oh no, it’ll be three of us. I’m going to be joined by my grandparents.” The young girl smiled sweetly. “They coming from out of town.”
    “How nice.” The hostess feigned a smile and nodded to her. “Sit wherever you’d like.” She said, gathering three menus as the young woman carefully decided upon a booth. At first, she went to the right and then decided that she would like a table that afforded her a view of the parking lot so that she could see exactly when her grandparents arrived. The hostess dutifully followed the anxious girl as she stopped at three tables before deciding upon the one she liked best. The first booth was battered and the cushions torn and the next, the Formica table was scratched with gang insignia and the third was filthy, she sniffed aloud. The hostess dropped off the menus, ignoring the comment.
    “Your waitress Marisol will be with you.” The hostess said and went back to the front counter where a new influx of customers kept her busy for the next few minutes.
    The young girl took out her phone and texted her grandmother. She didn’t know why she would text her, as she knew her grandmother had little use for the phone other than missing calls. She shrugged at the memory and dutifully texted the word: “Here.” and awaited the response that would never come.
    A girl approximately the same age as she came over to the table. “Hello, I’m Marisol. Can I get you something to drink?”
    “Um, maybe just a water for now.”
    “Do you know what you want?”
    “I haven’t even looked at the menu yet.” The young girl smiled in an embarrassed manner. “Sorry.”
    “I’ll give you a few minutes and come back.” The girl smiled back.
    “I’m waiting for my grandma and grandpa.”
    “Oh, that’s so sweet. Okay, I’ll wait until I see them seated.”
    “Thank you. If an older couple ask for Caitlyn, that’s me.” The girl smiled.
    “Will do.” Marisol said cheerfully and went about checking on the other tables in her station.
    Caitlyn passed the time texting her boyfriend, Brad. She smiled nervously as fiancé was still too new a term to her, she said to herself with a nervous shake of her head. Her boyfriend, although many decades younger than her grandmother, possessed the same annoying habit of disregarding texts.
    After the fifth text without any reply, Caitlyn put the phone down and looked towards the parking lot. Through the shade, she espied her grandparents slowly emerging from the large powder blue Cadillac.
    Caitlyn’s heart warmed at the sight of her elderly grandparents and she beamed as she watched them. She hadn’t seen them in so long, having been away at school most of the time but now that college was over with, she could reestablish all of her old ties and hang out with friends she hadn’t seen since high school. She heard herself express an audible: “Aw!” as she could see how her grandparents had aged since the last time she saw them at graduation a few months previous. They were so cute, she said to herself.
    Her phone buzzed. It was a text; but it was not from Brad but an old boyfriend with whom she was still friendly. Many of her family members thought she would end up with Drew, as he had been her first boyfriend and the first one who had made her a woman, but she would never consider marrying a guy just cos he popped her cherry.
    Besides, there had been other issues. She thought about Drew and how he had badly messed things up with her, having another girlfriend at his college and how he tried to get back with Caitlyn, telling her how he had changed and grown up since they had last been a real couple nearly five years ago. She felt like texting him the truth, but what if things didn’t work out with Brad? Caitlyn typed out the line, “Before, you could have had me anytime you wanted. Now, you couldn’t have me if you tried.” but stopped before hitting send and just deleted the sentence.
    When Caitlyn looked up, her grandparents were slowly making their way through the door and traipsing past the hostess who called out to them but they continued on unheeded and the hostess, unheard.
    Her grandmother used a walker to get along these days while her grandfather, though arthritic and hard of hearing like every husband at that age confesses they are, was in pretty good health considering. He smiled as his dentures popped down in his mouth as her grandmother waved, which made Caitlyn nervous, as she didn’t want her to lose her balance and fall.
    Her grandfather, Clarence and his wife Estelle, were both in their 80’s but yet strangers often mistook them for persons in their 60’s, much to their delight. Ever the gentleman, Clarence guided Estelle around the walker and assisted her as she slid slowly into the booth. He folded up the walker and put it up against the unused booth behind Caitlyn and then sat with a sound erupting from the seat leather. Caitlyn hoped it was the seat, she said to herself.
    “How are you doing, dear?” Her grandmother asked and clasped her hands over Caitlyn’s own. “Oh, let me look!” She said, referring to the gem on her granddaughter’s finger.
    “Wow, that’s a real beaut.” Her grandfather beamed. “Cost Brock a lot?”
    “Brad.” Caitlyn corrected him.
    “Oh behave yourself, Clarence!” Estelle gently smacked at her husband’s hand. “We don’t want to upset the poor thing.”
    “Brock had better get a second job.”
    “It’s Brad, Grandpa, Brad.” She stressed.
    “Oh, he’s just kidding.” Her grandmother reassured.
    “Can I get you some drinks?” The waitress interjected.
    “Yes, you can young lady. I’ll have a coffee.”
    Estelle shook her head and mouthed: “Tea.” as she pointed to her husband. “And I’ll have coffee, decaf.”
    “I’ll just have water.” Caitlyn smiled.
    “Oh dear, you can’t just have water. Get yourself an iced tea.”
    Caitlyn looked at her grandmother and then nodded at the waitress. “Ice tea.”
    Marisol looked at the three of them. “Are you ready to order?”
    “Miss, we just got here!” Clarence bellowed.
    “No need to get all in a huff. The young lady is just asking you.” Estelle said.
    “I know she’s just asking me but we just got here for crissakes! Give me time at least to look at the menu!” Clarence gruffly waved her off. “That’s the problem with these kids these days, everybody wants something now, now, now!”
    Caitlyn mouthed an “I’m so sorry.” to Marisol, who nodded and then turned on her heel to another table.
    “Grandpa, you don’t have to be like that.”
    “She probably habla no Englaise, anyway.” The old man sniffed as the girl walked to another table. “Back in my day, they taught English in school. You had to speak it to get a job anywhere, like the war. Now they pay them not to teach it in school. Say it’s against their rights to force it on ‘em. Well I ain’t for that. They oughta teach English, but they’re afraid. They should but they don’t do that no more.”
    “Pipe down, Clarence, people are looking at you.”
    “Aw, nuts.” He chimed back at her and waved his floppy old man hand. “Remember we used to have a Japanese gardener back years ago? Everyone had one. It was a status symbol to have one, boy I tell ya. They wore those big Javanese hats. They spoke perfect English. Now you got all the Mexicans cutting the lawns wearing hats made in China but you have to speak Spanish to get them to cut your Norwegian hedges the way you want ‘em.”
    “Now, Clarence, that’s enough! We’re not here for your world views, but to celebrate our beautiful granddaughter’s nuptials!”
    “Aw, thank you, Grandma!” Caitlyn said, somewhat relieved. She could feel the eyes at the different tables staring at her. “So Grandpa, tell me about your trip!” She said to distract him.
    “It was a nice trip.”
    “How’s the motor home? You took it, right? You and Grandma still have it?”
    “The old girl’s holding up pretty well...so’s the motor home.” Her grandfather laughed with his mouth open as his dentures fell, causing the old man to close his mouth in a frown.
    “Oh, Clarence!” Estelle hit her husband’s hand. “What about you? Tell us about your fiancé. We don’t know a thing about the young man.”
    Caitlyn fumbled for a minute. The table behind her grandparents erupted into a heated discussion.
    “Abraham was a true messenger of God.” A man in a white, short-sleeved dress shirt and black tie sputtered.
    “You’re missing the point of God’s factual message. Abraham was not a messenger but a prophet.” A man in similar uniform protested.
    “I think Abraham-”
    “Fellas, please! I’m trying to have a goddamned quiet conversation with my granddaughter! I don’t need you guys shouting at each other.”
    “We will pray for you, sir.” One of the men said, concerned for him.
    “Save yourself. I don’t need any Sunday school. Been through all that bullshit.”
    “Then turn your hearing aid down, Clarence.” Estelle shushed him.
    “Then I won’t be able to hear my lovely granddaughter.” The old man smiled with a wrinkly countenance.
    “You’re so sweet, Grandpa.” Caitlyn smiled, trying to forget the old man’s prickly outburst.
    “So this new beau, who is he?” Her grandmother asked.
    “Oh, he’s great. I think you’ll really like him.”
    “What is he?” The grandfather asked.
    “What is he? What do you mean?”
    “What is he?” The old man repeated in a gruff manner and gestured in a circular motion. “What is he? What does he do?”
    “Oh.” Caitlyn blurted. “He’s a doctor. Well, he’s an intern, you know, a medical apprentice.”
    “A dentist?” The old man asked, turning up his hearing aid until it whistled.
    “No, he’s an intern, Grandpa.”
    “He’s a nurse?” The old asked in a confused manner.
    “No, he’s a doctor, well, he’s going to be.”
    “Oh, how nice!” Caitlyn’s grandmother said in a delighted way. “Isn’t that nice? Our granddaughter’s going to marry a doctor!”
    “Good, then he can look at me and tell me what’s wrong with me.”
    “He won’t be able to, Grandpa. He’s studying to be a pediatrician.”
    “A what?”
    “A baby doctor.” Caitlyn said and leaned towards him.
    “How can a baby be a doctor?” He smiled and started to chuckle at his own joke.
    “You’re hopeless. Now you see what I’ve had to put up with all of these years?” Her grandmother sighed. “Just make sure he’s the right one.” She said and tugged playfully at her husband’s folded arm. “Marriage is not easy, believe me.”
    “I’m sure it isn’t.” Caitlyn smiled. “He’s the right one.”
    “It takes a lot of hard work to make things work.” Her grandmother continued. “Are you sure he’s the one?”
    “Yes, I’m sure.”
    “What does your mother think about him?”
    “Oh, I haven’t really said anything to her about him much.”
    “Are you two still not talking?”
    “No, we’re talking. Well, more than we used to, let’s say.”
    “Look, I won’t get in the middle now as you know me, I like to stay on the sidelines.” Her grandmother held up her hand. “But your mother is a very proud woman. Very fussy, has to have things her way. I should know, I raised her. That’s why she moved out as soon as she could.” Her grandmother hissed. “She wasn’t always the most reasonable person. Doesn’t get that from my side.” She said and looked at her oblivious husband. “I would always wonder how this person came out of my womb being so stubborn. It’s the old adage: ‘By the time a woman realizes her mother was right bout everything, she’s got a daughter who already thinks she’s wrong.’ She’s got her faults but she’s still your Mother and she only wants the best for you.”
    “I know.” Caitlyn sighed and changed the subject. “Have you decided yet what you both want to order?”
    “Yes, I’ll have a tuna sandwich.” Her grandmother said. “They don’t let you smoke in this restaurant, do they?” She asked as she began to pull out a pack of cigarettes from her purse.
    “No, Grandma.”
    “I think I’ll have a bowl of chili and some crackers.” Clarence said, not listening. “Where’s the waitress? Figures. Waitress? Waitress?” He shouted and then flagged down the hostess who was nearby.
    “Yes, how may I help you?”
    “You can take our order!”
    “I’m the hostess, sir. I can find your waitress and send her over immediately.” The woman said and went to find their waitress.
    “That’s the problem these days.” Clarence snapped. “Nobody wants to roll up their sleeves and pitch in. You see that?”
    “It’s not her job, Clarence and it’s not yours either to criticize.”
    “It sure as hell is!” He exclaimed loud enough for the two religious men to hear him, snapping them out of the identical debate for a brief second. “I’m the customer. I’m always right!”
    “That’s what you think.” Estelle smiled in a sly aside to her granddaughter. “He’s only right when I let him be.”
    “But Drew is nice boy. I think you’ll both like him.”
    “I thought his name was Brad, dear.” Estelle asked, now confused.
    “Ugh!” Caitlyn growled and grabbed the sides of her head. “I can’t believe I did that. Yes, Brad is a nice guy. I’m sure you’ll like him.”
    “What happened to Drew?” The grandfather asked. “He was polite. He had a good job and liked sports.”
    “He just wasn’t right.” Caitlyn waved him off. She didn’t feel like explaining that after three years of seeing each other and going to bed that one time, the guy never made another move on her after that. She wondered if she had been that bad. They barely kissed or held hands, even less than most married couples. She would never tell them about how she practically threw herself at him and all he did was want to watch cartoons and sci-fi movies. He was practically a virgin and would die that way, she mused, but not for the lack of her trying.” Uh yeah, he just, well...I don’t want to get into it.” She moped.
    “Alright, pumpkin, you don’t need to make a federal case out of it.” Clarence said and then peered up over his glasses to find their waitress Marisol standing beside the table. “We thought you quit.” He sniffed.
    “Oh my God...Grandpa!” Caitlyn guffawed in an embarrassed manner.
    “Sorry, a large party came in and I had to cover for a waitress that went home sick.” Marisol explained. “It’s been crazy.”
    “Alright, alright, I didn’t ask for your life story, honey.” He said as the three of them began to order.
    Marisol bit her tongue and perfunctorily wrote down what each ordered as she thought about the upcoming weekend. She knew that whatever she would say would not have gone over well with his type. Besides, what she would tell her boyfriend who was also the cook would take care of the old man’s attitude when he finally got his order. Her boyfriend would make certain that the old man’s food would have extra added ingredients if he kept up his behavior, she smiled.
    “See that?” Clarence pointed out in disgust as the waitress walked away. “She smiled but didn’t even thank us for our order.”
    “So, is Brad excited about the wedding?” Estelle sidetracked her husband’s comment.
    “He is.” She said with a large pearly smile that would have been standard issue and somewhat unceremonious on a beauty pageant contestant but portrayed rather radiant with Caitlyn’s girl-next-door looks. Her perfect smile belied many ugly truths that were hiding only beneath the skin-deep surface.
    “Will Sara help you with the wedding?”
    “Who?” Caitlyn chirped.
    “Sara, your old college roommate.” Her grandmother explained.
    Caitlyn blushed. “No, Grandma. I haven’t spoken to her in a while.” was all Caitlyn would say on the subject. She did not go into details, nor did she explain to her grandmother how Sara hated Brad and thought Brad was a tool.
    “But you two were so close!” Her grandmother pressed on. “I thought for sure she’d be in your wedding party, probably even your maid-of-honor. You two even dressed alike.”
    “No, Grandma, no. She moved out of state.” She felt her face flush again. It was all a lie.
    She could never explain to her grandmother how she had been in a short, but passionate on-and-off-again relationship with Sara. She recalled how Sara kept hitting on her and telling her how beautiful she was and how she had always put her off. She remembered how one night after a decidedly vicious fight with Drew she confessed to Sara that she was through with guys over many bottles of Löwenbräu.
    Sara persisted once again that night, telling her how gorgeous she was and how wrong she had been treated. Sara treated her tenderly that night and kissed her with real passion and made her feel alive. It was nothing like Drew, where there had been little to no attention or warmth. That very night they slept together and while it was awkward at first, at least it was something, Caitlyn told herself; something to augment this unloved existence and that it was real and it was meaningful and how good it felt to be wanted and to be cherished. For a long while afterwards they became quite the item around campus. She had loved Sara or at least thought she had at one point. She had always been confused with guys but even more so with Sara and with graduation approaching, she felt a pressure to break things off. It wasn’t quite familial, but something within her life. She and Sara remained uneasy friends until Brad showed up at some end of term party. Sara saw right through him and couldn’t stand Brad. She threatened to reveal all of Caitlyn’s dirty little secrets to this “Mr. Perfect” as Caitlyn called him. Sara said she was settling. He was a doctor for crissakes, argued Sara. How more formulaic white-picket-fence marriage could she get? It wasn’t so much what Sara said, Caitlyn thought, for she was right. The overhanging threat was what truly broke up their companionship. It hurt Sara how Brad came into the picture so suddenly and had completely replaced her in Caitlyn’s life. The love she had for Sara had turned back into an uncomfortable friendship. Caitlyn recalled how she didn’t ever intend to hurt Sara, even though she knew she had and as a result, lost a dear friend. Was she doing the right thing by agreeing to marry Brad, she wondered? Sadness filled her eyes and she dabbed at them with the napkin on her lap.
    “Is everything alright, child?” Her grandmother asked, somewhat concerned.
    “No, I’m okay. It’s just allergies, Grammy.” Caitlyn flubbed.
    “Oh.” Her grandmother smiled in a loving way, but remembered how lost and fragile Caitlyn had seemed only a short year or two ago. Caitlyn’s family had grown concerned she had possibly started doing drugs or had turned bulimic, as she had become so skinny. Her stunning blue eyes had become lifeless with dark circles beneath them and had gone frosty and distant. Her grandmother recalled how she had cut her beautiful long blonde tresses until she had what amounted to a boy’s butchered haircut, then abruptly broke it off with Drew and had become something of a shadow of her former ebullient self and did nothing but wear black and hang out with her roommate all of the time. At least now the dark circles had ebbed and her weight was now back to a more healthy size.
    “I’m fine, really.” Caitlyn reassured her grandmother as the food arrived.
    “I didn’t order this.” Her grandfather protested.
    “Yes, you did.” Estelle corrected him as the old man dug into his plate. Food sputtered out of his mouth as he began to talk, littering his shirt.
    “Marriage is a bond between two people.” Estelle said. “It must not be broken or gone into flippantly. It is a sacred thing the Bible tells us.”
    “Yes, Grammy. It’s a holy union, you’ve said.” Caitlyn nodded and picked at her salad. “I’m just worried, that’s all. You both have, like, the perfect marriage. You’ve been married for more than 50 years. I’m afraid I won’t be able to measure up, y’know, meet that milestone.” She said with a sigh, hoping that what Sara said wasn’t true, that she was, in fact, settling.
    “Oh, you will, sweetie. With lots of patience and perseverance, you’ll do just fine. It’s something you learn to live with. Don’t ever go to bed mad.”
    “You know, they have all sorts of marriages today.” Clarence chimed in. “But the best mirage is between a man and a woman.”
    “You mean marriage, Grandpa.”
    “That’s what I said.” He said indignantly.
    “No, you said mirage, dear.” Estelle told him.
    “Damn it! Don’t tell me what I said. I know what I said. I said marriage!” He snarled. “You two are nuts. You don’t hear well.”
    “Whatever you say, dear.” Estelle said, knowing full well the wrath her husband was capable of and tried to calm him. She wanted to forget the nights he came home loaded, smacked her around just for good measure while their daughter was still little, too young for it to have any effect on her, thank the Good Lord for that, Estelle said to herself.
    “What God has joined together, let no man put asunder.” Clarence uttered and raised his finger aloft. “Til death do us part. There’s a reason for that.”
    “That’s what worries me.” Estelle said aloud in a nervous manner and patted her granddaughter’s hand. “Oh, you’ll do fine, dear, you’ll do fine. Then you’ll have little ones. You’ll see.” She smiled as the waitress dropped off the check while the two men at the table behind them bantered back and forth relentlessly over God and Abraham.
    Marisol chuckled to herself as she passed by the tables, remembering the old man’s equally frivolous words: “The customer is always right.”

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