Up & Out by Ariella Papa Page A

a bit piggy when Tommy decides against another starter and gets a lamb kabob. I also order soup and moussaka (the moussaka here is so good, I couldn’t resist. I’m only human!).
    They bring out my soup, and I start to slurp. It is chicken soup with lemon, egg and rice. Say what you will about matzo ball, that’s great, too, but this is the stuff.
    “You really like it, huh? You’re, like, groaning.”
    “Mmm.”
    “So when is Lauryn leaving?”
    “She said she will be gone by Memorial Day.”
    “Wow! Are you going to get a roommate?”
    “I don’t think I have the time to look for one. I should be working right now. I am so behind.”
    “But can you afford it on your own?”
    “I told you I make the big bucks.”
    “Even with the changes at work?”
    “Are you trying to rain on my lemon soup?”
    “No, just asking.” He is infuriating. Why can’t he get at his own issues? I decide to try a different approach.
    “You know, Lauryn’s therapist thinks it’s a good idea for you to get to the point.” He laughs, then quickly grows serious.
    “Lauryn doesn’t really…talk about me to her therapist.” I really enjoy Tommy’s rare moments of paranoia.
    “Yeah, she blames you for the breakup of her marriage.”
    “Jordan and I did play a lot of PlayStation,” he says, laughing.
    “Tell me about it.”
    “Okay, I was wondering if you wanted to move back in.” I almost do Tommy’s favorite comedy move, the spit take. I don’t have to because his big statement was punctuated by one of the waiters lighting a plate on fire at the next table. We feel the heat.
    “When you get to the point, you really get to the point, huh.”
    “I’m not saying move in, move in.”
    “What are you saying?”
    “I am really short on funds these days.”
    “Okay, and…”
    “And you need to support your problem.” He gestures to my empty soup bowl. “You’re going to have less disposable dollars when Lauryn moves out. And we’re supposed to be friends.”
    “Thanks.”
    “And when Indiana Mutual took over CBB Federal they laid off like seventy percent of the workforce.” I was surprised that he had done his research. The waiter clears my soup bowl and sets down my moussaka. I close my eyes and inhale. I hear the laugh in Tommy’s voice. “You know, you’re crazy.”
    “It smells delicious,” I say. I pour more wine. He wants me to move back in, maybe he wants other things. Maybe I do,too. We broke up because he was the kind of guy who didn’t want to grow up at all. Maybe he is beyond that and this is the first step. He seems to guess what I am thinking.
    “Of course, we’ll have separate rooms.” Of course? This isn’t going to be any fun. Of course it is the way it should be, but it isn’t any fun.
    “You don’t live in a palace.” I take my first bite. I was a fool to believe I could have been satisfied by the swordfish kabob. It is a good meal, yes, but this is eggplant, ground beef and béchamel all in one delicious pasta shell. I wonder how you say heaven in Greek.
    “No, but I would move into the computer room.”
    “It’s the size of a closet. And then I would have to walk through your room if I wanted to pee.”
    “I’ll move the computer into the living room. We’ll put up the screen.”
    “I don’t know, Tommy. I think it’s weird if you don’t want to start dating again—not that I do.” I’m not sure what I want. Why does he have to be clueless on the things I need to know and decisive on what I don’t think matters?
    “Of course you don’t. Well, just think about it.”
    “I will,” I say. He has a point about money.
    “Thanks for not saying no right away.” He pours the remainder of the wine in our glasses.
    He begins to tell me about ideas he has for his Web site. He’s not giving up on it, he just isn’t going to devote as much time to it. The economy is shit and no one wants to know all his thoughts on comics, collectibles and video games. I tune out what