The Easy Way Out Read Free Page B

always been a lovable teddy bear of a person, with one of the kindliest dispositions I’d ever run into. Unfortunately, he’d fallen in with a bad crowd about thirty-five years ago—my parents—and all his good intentions were merely paving his private road to hell.
    He looked at me warmly and said, “I’m sorry about the turmoil, Pat. But you’re going to love the dinner we’re having. I bought a huge ham, one of those smoked things you send away for in the mail? They sent it special delivery. It just got here yesterday morning.” He took a swallow from his beer, and then his face crumpled. “Oh, Jesus Christ. Arthur isn’t going to be upset about having ham, is he?”
    â€œI seriously doubt it.”
    â€œWell, that’s a relief.”
    â€œCould we get to the story here?” Tony asked.
    â€œAll right already,” Ryan said, clearly offended. “Reenie was over here for dinner two weeks ago. Nothing special; the poor kid needs a good meal every once in a while. Anyway, I went into the kitchen to check on the roast beef, and apparently your father let the whole thing slip.”
    â€œHim?” Tony asked. “I thought you said it was your mother who let it slip.”
    Tony dressed exclusively in navy-blue pin-striped suits, which made him look especially broad-shouldered and authoritative, almost as if there were a gun tucked under his arm. He appeared particularly dashing that day, in a dangerous way, and I felt like telling him he had nothing to worry about. Whether Loreen knew or didn’t know, he was a shoo-in.
    â€œIt was your mother,” my father said. “She’s got that big mouth, and she never pays attention to what she’s saying. In the store the other day, she tells this customer—”
    â€œSnap out of it,” Tony said, “and get back on track.”
    My father glared at him but obeyed. “Loreen was talking something about rings, rings—I don’t know—some story about a ring. I adore that girl, but I can’t follow her conversation half the time. But your mother, who probably wasn’t listening, thought she was talking about this ring, and she said, ‘Oh, did Tony go and tell you about the engagement ring and spoil the surprise?’ We never did figure out what the hell Loreen was talking about.”
    â€œYou know, I’ll bet she was talking about Ring-Dings,” Ryan said, “because when I came back from the kitchen she was finishing a story about one of her diet people going on a chocolate binge. Come to think of it, she didn’t even look surprised.”
    Loreen was a nutritionist at a weight-loss clinic in a shopping mall in a neighboring suburb. The whole incident sounded highly implausible. “Well,” I said, “there’s not much you can do to change it, Tony. The surprise is spoiled, but so what?”
    â€œThe surprise isn’t the only thing that’s spoiled,” Tony bellowed.
    There was another bout of shouting, which was brought to a dead stop by the sound of the doorbell. “That must be Reenie,” Ryan said, tilting back his head to finish off his beer. “Reenie” was a diminutive Ryan had invented for Loreen. Tony called his girlfriend by her full name, when he called her anything at all.
    My brothers and my father looked at one another in a conspiratorial way, and I felt as though I was missing a crucial element of the plot. Ryan put down his beer can, my father stubbed out his cigarette, and Tony shrugged himself into his suit jacket.
    â€œRyan’s going to be my best man,” Tony told me. He put his hand on my shoulder. “I thought I’d tell you now, Pat, just so there’s no hard feelings later. Don’t forget, I was his. If I could have two, you’d be the other one.”
    The three of them walked upstairs, mumbling and gesturing, and I was left standing in the basement, thoroughly