Definitely, Maybe in Love(17)

       
           



       

"Come on," Lilah growled, rolling onto her stomach. "It's not brain surgery."

"Okay, 60 Minutes," I finally offered after way too much thought for such a benign question.

Julia cleared her throat and eyed me.

I exhaled, wishing she didn't know me so well. "Fine. True Blood," I  muttered into my soda can. "I like vampires and True Blood is my  favorite TV show, okay? I loved it till I hated it."

"That's it?" Lilah sneered. "That's what took you so long?"

"Interesting dichotomies," Henry said to me. "I loved it till I hated it," he quoted. "Elaborate."

I liked the way he was leaning forward, almost on the edge of his seat.  He certainly had a way of making it feel like he and I were the only  ones in the room, just like that night at the party when we'd talked for  the first time. I hadn't forgotten how that made me feel … caught off  guard, but in a pleasant, curious way. He was making me feel a lot of  new things lately.

But we weren't the only ones in the room now.

"I wasn't dichotomizing," I said. "Merely speaking facts."

"What's your answer, Henry?" Julia asked.

"Seinfeld," he said, propping his feet on the coffee table. The gray,  taupe, and blue diamonds on his argyle socks matched the navy blue  V-neck sweater he was wearing. We all looked at him, surprised by his  answer. "It's the thinking man's sitcom. Timeless. Even in syndication  heaven."

Huh. Who knew?

I also learned that Dart used to row crew at Duke until he tore his  shoulder. In addition, his likes were: walks on the beach, tennis  whites, and John Mayer. Coincidentally, so were Julia's. Or maybe that  was no coincidence. Maybe they were one of those gaggy perfect couples.  The only thing they seemed to not have in common was PDA. While Dart was  willing to show his affection at any time, Julia was the sweet and  bashful type. Though if I had to bet, I was sure she let loose when they  were alone.

"Favorite song to sing in the shower?" was the next question on the table.

"I don't sing," I stated.

"Neither do I."

This answer from Henry brought loud hoots from Dart. "You lie, man!"

Henry's stern expression held fast as he glowered at his housemate.

"I've actually been getting a little more sleep these past few  mornings," Dart went on, "without you making your normal morning  racket."

Henry actually flushed. "I said I don't-"

"You do! Personally, I enjoy your rendition of ‘Put A Ring On It.'"

"Dude," Henry muttered, dropping his chin, massaging the back of his neck.

"But I believe you're most impressive when you hit the high notes of ‘Livin' on a Prayer.'"

"I think … " Henry said. "I think we should move on."

Dart stretched his arm toward Henry, hand in a fist. Henry only regarded  it impassively. "Dude … " Dart coaxed. Henry leered at the extended olive  branch, laughed under his breath, then bumped fists with his best  friend.

"Favorite piece of classical music?" This was my question. I found it  interesting when asked in the right company and when answered honestly.  Actually, I'd run out of questions. Henry was up to answer first, but he  didn't right away, so I answered for him. "Clair de Lune. Right?"

"How can you possibly guess something like that?"

"Elementary." I took a swig of Diet Coke. "Put ten men in a room and  play ten different pieces of classical music, six will say Clair de Lune  is their favorite. There was an actual study." I gave Henry a look. "At  Duke, maybe."

He folded his arms. "Rudimentary research," he accused, but I could tell he was trying not to smile.

"I don't disagree." I pulled up my feet to sit cross-legged. "It's the  same theory if you were to ask those same ten men what their favorite  flower is. Seven will say iris, but only if you show them a picture."

Dart seemed confused at first, but nodded in agreement after thinking it  through, probably picturing an iris. "Yeah," he said. "She's right  about that one, too" He pulled Julia close. "I love irises, sweetie." He  kissed her temple. "How do you know that, Spring? Another research  project?"

"Sort of," I said. "Men can't help it, they're naturally attracted to  the iris flower because it looks exactly like the inside of a woman's-"

"Spring," Julia cut me off. A moment later, however, she pressed her  lips together and laughed under her breath. Dart was watching her,  looking confused but amused. The subtle subconscious connection  evidently hadn't occurred to him yet. Henry, though, was chuckling  heartily into both hands.                       
       
           



       

"Three guilty pleasures?" Julia asked, then she and Dart gave their  answers and cuddled. Lilah sneered out something about Amsterdam.

While pondering on the subject, I ran my index finger along the top of  my can. Three guilty pleasures? If I was going to be honest, this would  take some thought.

"Sports/Talk radio," I began, counting off the answers on my fingers. "Strawberry frosted Pop Tarts, and novels."

"French novels?" Henry asked.

"Gross-no." I cringed at the insinuation.

"Not those kinds. I meant like the one you were reading when we ate breakfast together at the café."

This caught Lilah's attention. She dropped her cell, sat up and glared  at me. Her acrylic fingernails were like claws as they dug into the  knees of her designer jeans.

"British," I explained. "Nineteenth century."

"What's your favorite?" Henry asked.

"Why?"

"I'd like to know."

"More of your polite conversation?" I asked, tilting my head. "Nothing else to do because it's raining?"

Henry laughed and leaned forward. "You remember me saying that?"

"Kind of hard to forget."

Lilah had risen onto her knees, glancing from Henry to me then back at Henry like she was watching a tennis match.

"So?" Henry prompted. "What's your favorite book?"

"The Scarlet Pimpernel," I answered, trying to ignore Lilah's icy  glares, which was difficult, as I could actually feel them. "What's  yours?"

"To Kill a Mockingbird. Why The Scarlet Pimpernel?"

We needed to move on before Lilah really did stab me, but I didn't think  Henry would let us until I gave an answer. "Well, for one reason, I  like how it mocks the evil of the bourgeoisie."

"You have a problem with the wealthy social class?" he asked. "Maybe it was the French revolutionists who needed to be mocked."

"Ha! Talk about oversimplification." I folded my arms. "It was the  aristocrats who caused the war. Those people were excessively concerned  with respectability and success and money." I looked directly at Henry.  "Sound familiar?"

He shrugged. "That's no crime. It was how ten generations were taught to live."

"And that's an excuse? Wait, let me guess, that was how you were taught to live."

He took a beat. "I learned a lot from my father."

Even from across the room, I could see he was trying not to smile.  Deliberately pushing my buttons, and enjoying it. "Ya know what, never  mind." I threw my hands in the air.

"Are you declaring defeat?" Henry asked. "Again?"

I felt a flush creep across my cheeks. "There are other people in the  room," I said after clearing my throat. "I'm sure they're not interested  in this dysfunctional conversation."

"I am," Dart said.

"Me, too," echoed Julia. "You guys are more entertaining than The Real Housewives."

I sighed. "Have you even read the book?" I asked Henry, more calmly.

"He doesn't read novels anymore," said Dart. "French or otherwise."

"Anymore?" I asked, picking up on that word. "But you said To Kill a Mockingbird. Why is that your favorite? Or was?"

Henry didn't answer right away. His elbows were on the arms of his  chair, his fingers under his chin. After a few long moments, I thought  that maybe he didn't want to share his answer. Maybe it was something  personal. But how could that be? It was just a story.

"I think enough top secret information has been divulged tonight," I said, breaking the silence. "I'm done playing."

"About time," Lilah muttered. "Henry, want to watch a movie?"

"My mother read it when she was a teenager," Henry said, picking a piece  of lint off his lap. "To Kill a Mockingbird. The day she accepted my  father's proposal, she gave him a copy and told him that Atticus Finch  is the kind of father she wants her husband to be."