Don't Bet On Love (9 page)

“
This ought to be okay,
”
he said as we got out of the car.
“
No matter how many forks there are, it shouldn’t take more than an hour to eat dinner.
”

A white-jacketed mai
tre d’ met us at the door and led us across the candlelit dining room to a secluded table for two. After we were seated, I opened my enormous menu. My heart sank when I saw the prices printed there. If Gary was willing to shell out that kind of money for a trial run, he must have high hopes for prom night!

I decided to skip the appetizer and selected an entree that I hoped wouldn’t strain his budget too much, then gazed wistfully at Gary, who was still absorbed in studying his own menu. In spite of his new look, he would never be handsome in the classic sense of the word, like Steve or Mark. Gary was too
long and skinny for one thing, and his nose
hadn’t shrunk any. If I looked closely enough, I cou
ld still find traces of the boy
with the shaggy hair and the thick glasses—the boy I had fallen in love with.

Just then Gary looked up from his menu 0 and caught me watching him.
“
What is it, Molly?
”
he asked anxiously.
“
Have I done
something wrong already?
”

I smiled and shook my head.
“
Not a thing.
”
Reminding my
self of the purpose of this out
ing, I asked,
“
So, is Colette going to the prom with you?
”
I figured he might have invited her after our cutlery session that afternoon.

“
I haven’t
asked her yet. What about you?
Have you got a date?
”

“
I don’t think I’ll be going,
”
I said as casu
ally as I could. I had a sudden vision of myself at the prom, sitting alone on the sidelines with the other wallflowers while Colette glided across the floor in Gary’s arms. It was a pretty bleak prospect.

“
Oh, yeah? Have you got other plans?
”
Gary asked.

I nodded. Of course I did. I planned to do what any red-blooded American girl would do if the boy she loved was in the clutches of another woman—buy a bo
x of chocolates and eat myself i
nto a sugar-induced coma.

We ordered then, and soon our food arrived. It was delicious and the service was excellent, but I was too depressed to enjoy the meal.
Gary
concentrated on using the proper utensils, and I didn't have to correct him once. But as I was eating my dessert, I noticed that Gary hadn’t touched his.

“
Don’t you like the chocolate cheesecake?
”
I asked him.
“
I think it’s awfully good.
”

“
I haven't tried it,
”
he confessed.
“
I can’t. I've run out of forks.
”

We retraced our steps through the entire meal, matching each piece of silverware to the appropriate course. Sure enough,
Gary
was one fork short. I caught the eye of our waiter, who came to our table in an instant.

“
Madame?
”

“
The gentleman needs a dessert fork,
”
I said. The waiter looked appalled and hurried off to fetch one.

“
Hey, you’re pretty good at that,
”
Gary said, grinning at me.
“
I can tell you’ve had a lot of experience bossing guys around.
”

I smiled to keep him from seeing how much his remark had stung. So that was
what he thought of me! I was just a girl who bossed guys around. I had to admit that I’d certainly bossed
him
around, and look where it had led. If I hadn’t forced Gary into changing his image, Colette Carroll still wouldn’t know he was alive, and there might have been a chance for me.

The waiter returned with Gary's fork, and we finished our dessert. As we were getting ready to leave, Gary reached for his wallet. Then he looked at me with the oddes
t ex
pression on his face.

“
Molly, do you have any money with you?
”
he asked in a strange, constricted voice.

“
I’ve got a few dollars and some change,
”
I said, reaching for my purse.
“
I think I can handle the tip.
”

Gary laughed, but there was no humor in the sound.
“
I’m afraid I’m going to need more than that.
”
He swallowed.
“
A
lot
more.
”

“
Gary? What’s wrong?
”
I asked, alarmed. By this time his face had taken on a sickly greenish cast.

“
I don’t have my wallet!
”
he whispered.
“
I must have left it to my other pants!
”

I thought fast.
“
Don't panic! I remember seeing a pay phone in the lobby as we came
in. Go call your parents and ask them to bring your wallet. Here,
”
I added, pressing a quarter into his hand.
“
You'll need this.
”

Gary was gone only a couple of minutes. Even before he reached the table, I could tell by his stricken expression that he’d had no luck.

“
There was no answer,
”
he reported,
“
and I just remembered why. My dad’s company is having a dinner tonight. He and Mom probably won’t be back for hours!
”

“
I
’m sure my parents are home,
”
I said, standing up.
“
I’ll call them right away.
”

Gary grabbed my arm.
“
Molly, no! I can’t let your family pay for this.
”

“
You can pay them back tomorrow,
”
I said, gently removing his hand from my arm.
“
Back in a flash.
”

My luck was no better than Ga
ry’s. I got a busy signal, and I
was almost positive that Mark was tying up the phone. I hung up, waited a few seconds, and tried again, with the same result. If I could have gotten my hands on my brother at that moment, I would have choked him. I tried two more times without success, so I finally called the operator, intending to ask for an emergency
interrupt. But she informed me that nobody was talking on the phone—there was trouble on the line. By that time, several people were waiting to use the phone and giving me some pretty dirty looks. I was forced to admit de
feat. I
hung up the receiver, collected my quarter, and returned to the dining room.

“
Were they home?
”
Gary asked hopefully.

I sighed.
“
I don’t know. There’s something wrong with the phone, so all
I
got were busy signals.
”

At that moment our waiter reappeared.
“
Will there be anything else?
”
he asked.

Gary and
I exchanged helpless looks. Nei
ther of us knew what to do. Finally Gary spoke.

“
I’d like to have a word with the manager, please.
”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“
Oh,
my aching feet
!
”
I moaned two hours later as we left the Lamplighter through the back door.
“
I can hardly wait to get home and take off these heels!
”

Gary took my arm as we crossed the parking lot. He looked very different from the boy who had picked me up earlier that evening. His tie was loosened, his collar unbuttoned, his shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and he had slung his jacket over one shoulder.

“
See? And you laughed at my Reeboks!
”
he teased.
“
Seriously. Molly, thanks for helping
out. But I wish you had let me call a taxi to take you home.
”

“
How would we have paid for it?
”
I asked.
“
Anyway, it’s not like I’ve never washed dishes before, you know.
”

“
Yeah, but there’s a difference between washing dishes for a family of four and washing dishes for a whole restaurant full of people,
”
Gary replied.
“
And you looked so pretty tonight, too.
”

My heart was too full of pleasure at Gary’s compliment to mind his use of the past tense.
“
Gary, I don’t mind,
”
I said softly.
“
Honestly, I don’t.
”

We had reached the spot where Gary had parked the car, when a man stepped out of the shadows. Moonlight gleamed on the badge he wore, and suddenly I had a sinking feeling that our troubles weren’t over yet.
“
This your car, son?
”
the policeman asked.

“
Uh—yes, sir,
”
Gary replied.

“
Do you realize you’ve been parked for over three hours in a one-hour zone?
”
the officer continued.

“
To tell the truth, I forgot.
”
Gary admitted.
“
But there’s a perfectly logical explanation
…
”

“Y
our driver’s license is all the explanation
I
need.
”
The policeman held out his hand expectantly.

“
Oh, right.
”
Gary automatically reached for his back
pocket, then remembered his di
lemma.
“
Oh, no!
”
he groaned, covering his face with his hand.

“
What’s the matter?
”
the policeman asked.

“
I—uh—I don’t have it with me,
”
Gary said.
“
But I can explain that, too. You see—
”

The officer cut him off.
“
I see that you’re illegally parked
and
driving without a license.
”

“
Like I said, I can explain—
”

“
You’d better save your explanations for the chief, kid.
”
The policeman jerked his thumb in the direction of his squad car.
“
We’re going to the station. You too, miss,
”
he added.

Gary and I were silent during the short drive to the police station. The only sound was the occasional squawk of the two-way radio. Gary sat beside me in the backseat, staring glo
omily out the window, his shoul
ders slumped. All the confidence he’d gained over the past few weeks seemed to have melted away.
I was pretty sure he was think
ing of Colette, and although I’m not usually
a vindictive person, at that moment I found myself hating her.

I gave a little sigh of
pure helplessness, and Gary tur
ned at the sound, giving me a slightly forced smile as he reached for my hand. He gave it a quick squeeze, and didn't release it until we arrived at the police station.

Once inside, we were each allowed to make one phone call. Fortunately, we were both able to get through to our parents this time.
I hadn’t realized just how awkward it would be until I heard Dad’s voice on the other end of the line. How do you break the news that your parents have to come and pick you up at the police station?

Somehow I managed a brief explanation, and when I hung up, our arresting officer led us to the desk sergeant on duty.

“
Names, please?
”
the sergeant asked with
out looking up from the paperwork on his desk.

“
Gary Hadley,
”
Gary said.

“
Molly McKenzie,
”
I said.

“
All right, what happened?
”
the desk ser
geant asked.

“
Well, you see—
”
Gary began, but the sergeant put up a hand to silence him.

“Y
ou’ll get your turn in a minute.
”
He turned to the policeman who had brought us in.
“
What’s the story, Cummings?
”

“
At nine twenty-five I got a call from the night manager at Randolph Drugs,
”
Officer Cummings droned.
“
Earlier this evening, he’d noti
ced a 1985 Toyota parked in the lot Randolph Drugs sha
res with the Lamp
lighter restaurant. Said he noticed it because the parking spaces at that end are designated one-hour parking only. When he closed up, the car was still there.
I
went to check it out
,
and while I was writing up the ticket, these two came out of the restaurant. Hadley here admits the car is his, but when I asked for a driver’s license, he said he didn’t have it with him.
”

“
But I can explain—
”
Gary began again. This time a new voice interrupted him.

“
They ought to make that parking lot bigger!
”

We turned
and saw a seedy-looking middle-
aged man who had apparently been listening to Officer Cummings’s endless report.

“
Yes, sir, they ought to make it
much
bigger!
”
he said, standing up.
“
I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. First thing in the morning, I’m going to go to Randolph Drugs. I’m going to hand Mr. Randolph a check, and I'm going to tell him to make that parking lot bigger!
”

“
What are you doing here, Wilson?
”
the sergeant asked wearily.
“
Have you been writing bad checks again?
”

“
No!
”
Mr. Wilson said indignantly.
“
I never wrote a bad check in my life! It’s those computers they use at the bank, that's what it is.
”

“
Never mind the computers! You sit there and be quiet while I hear Hadley's explanation.
”

Mr. Wil
son sat down again, and the ser
geant turned back to Gary.
“
All right, Hadley, you were saying?
”

“
Well, it’s sort of a long story,
”
Gary said.

“
We've got all night,
”
the sergeant told him. Somehow that didn't sound very reassuring.

“
Well, sir, we—Molly and me—we went to dinner at the Lamplighter, and we parked in a one-hour space because we didn't think it would take that long, but when we got ready to leave, I found out I'd left my wallet at home in my other pants, and I didn’t have any money and neither did Molly, so we had to wash dishes to pay for our meal because my folks weren't at home, and Molly’s phone was out of order, and—
”

“
Aw, come on, Sarge, have a heart!
”
Mr. Wilson urged.
“
The poor kid’s been through enough. Let him and his girlfriend go!
”

“
You stay out of this!
”
the sergeant warned.
“
All right, Hadley, what happened next?
”

“
Well, we finally left about nine-thirty. I’d forgotten all about where we were parked until I saw the policeman, and he wanted to see my driver’s license, but I didn’t have it, because—
”

“
Because it was in his other pants!
”
of
fered Mr. Wilson.

“
Be quiet, Wilson!
”
the sergeant bellowed.

“
So Officer Cummings brought us here,
”
Gary concluded.

Mr. Wilson stood up and whipped out his checkbook.
“
I like this kid. I’ll tell you what I'm going to do, Sarge. I’m going to pay his fine for him. Just tell me how much it is, and I’ll write you a check.
”

“
Wilson, your checks aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on!
”
the sergeant growled, growing red in the face.
“
One more word out of you, and I’ll write you up for obstructing justice!
”

Mr. Wilson lapsed into sulky silence, and the
sergeant turned back to Gary. “
Were you
able to reach your parents when you called just now?
”

“
Yes, sir,
”
Gary said.
“
They're on their way.
”

“
Mine are coming, too,
”
I added in case anybody was interested.

“
Are they bringing your wallet with them?
”
the sergeant asked Gary.

“
Well, they should be. At least, I asked
them
to.
”