So far, Dan is clueless, unscrupulous, and loveless. And he’s an elementary school teacher? Would any sister—or any woman for that matter—be interested in that combination? I don’t think so. This writer flunked characterization—and logic—in a big way.
Beth pats my hand. “Don’t worry, Dan. But, hey, you never know. Things might work out for you in the end.”
“They, uh, might work out how?”
“One can always hope.”
“Hope for what?”
Darcy chooses this moment to return with our check, and Darcy is doing that tongue-flicking thing. In Beth’s direction. And it’s sexy as hell. Either chapped lips must be catching or…
No…way. Was I just bait for a lesbian hookup? No wonder Beth said that she wanted to meet me here.
Darcy hands the check to me and slides a slip of paper to Beth. Beth peeks at the slip of paper and nods at Darcy.
“Have a nice evening, y’all,” Darcy says.
“You know we will,” Beth says, and Darcy walks away, occasionally looking back at Beth.
Beth gathers her coat. “Sorry, Dan.”
“Wait a minute,” I say. “Where are you going? What just happened?”
She stands. “I have a date.”
“With whom?”
“With Darcy. Haven’t you been paying attention?”
My dinner date has just picked up our server for a night of tongue flicking. “You and Darcy are going to…”
Beth nods.
“Just like that?” And I’m not invited?
She slips into her coat. “Hey, Dan, I tried to include you, but Darcy isn’t into that.”
“Into what?”
Beth squints. “I thought you were from California.”
“Yeah, but that was a long time ago, and just what does being from California have to do with this?”
Beth shakes her head. “I gotta go get ready.”
“And you’re leaving me with the check?”
She laughs. “Yes, but don’t worry about the tip. I’ll tip Darcy later for us, okay?”
And this is the end of his version of the events, thankfully. I don’t like him or find him believable for a second. I turn the page and hope the sister is more likable.
2: Tynisha “Ty” Clarke
Tynisha? Hmm. Is Ty going to be ghetto? Is this another one of those “opposites attract” interracial romances? You’d think that just having two characters with different skin color would be enough. Well, let’s see if Tynisha is a believable sister:
I know I shouldn’t be eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation in a restaurant, but when you’ve been waiting as long as we have, you have to do something. That’s so…twisted! Poor Dan!
“Did you just hear what she said to him?”
Mike sighs and pours out more salt onto the table, flicking several grains toward Pat. “He should have seen it coming, Ty. Look at her. She’s wearing what he’s wearing and looks more comfortable in it than he does.”
Pat arranges the stack of Sweet’n Low for the fifth time. “She is wearing a flannel shirt and work boots, Tynisha.”
“I wear work boots, Patricia. What are you trying to say?”
“If the boot fits,” Pat says.
I am so glad to get out of those heavy, steel-toed Red Wings that I wear while I’m roaming Roanoke, Virginia, in my Verizon van—
Hold up. She said, “Roanoke, Virginia”? She works in my adopted hometown? So, the Hooters in the story must be the one out on Williamson Road, not that I’ve ever been there. I might just like this book a little. My new hometown is in a book. Imagine that.
—looking for some address in the middle of nowhere, hopefully not having to gaff a pole or squeeze into a crawl space. Climbing poles for the phone company is not glamorous at all, but the pay is better than good. I am one of the few sisters climbing poles for any company in the state of Virginia, but that doesn’t mean I’m a dyke.
“That’s right,” I say. “It means you’re a pioneer, girl.”
“Forget you, Pat,” I say. “That’s just wishful thinking on your part. That’s probably why you’ve been my friend since the seventh grade. Hoping you can get a piece of this action.”
“Come on now. You know I only pole climb, no pun intended. And unless you grow a dick, Ty, I don’t want your…”
Oooh, Pat is nasty. I’m glad she and Dan aren’t going to hook up. I shudder. But they might hook up anyway. Dan seems hard up enough. And did Pat really have to say, “Grow a dick”?
Mike elbows Pat and cuts his eyes to the left. “Finally.”
And, naturally, it’s the wench who has a date later with Beth. And Dan is still sitting there at his table peeling his beer bottle. Man has to be hard up, but why is he so calm? If I were Dan, I’d be breaking shit about now, and I wouldn’t have been stuck with the check. And how clueless is he? I mean, he didn’t know his girlfriend was a lesbian! The man should be wearing a stupid sign.
“Amen to that,” I whisper. I like Ty.
“Hi, my name is Darcy.”
She looks like that Darcy chick on Married with Children. Wasn’t she gay on that show, too? I know all Darcys aren’t gay, but this is creepy.
“I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get y’all to drink?”
Y’all? Maybe she’s from Hee Haw. Do they do gay salutes on Hee Haw? Getting “down on the farm” has just taken on a totally new meaning.
I giggle. If this book were written solely from Ty’s point of view, I might be enjoying myself more. This should have been the first chapter anyway. A lady should always get to speak first…and last.
“I’ll have a grande frozen strawberry margarita,” says Pat, the alcoholic, while I stare her down. “What?”
“Who’s driving?” I ask.
Pat latches onto one of Mike’s muscular arms. “Mike is.”
I roll my eyes. “So you two aren’t trying to get any tonight? Just trying to get your drink on?”
“It’s a Monday night, girl,” Pat says. “Who goes macking on a Monday night?” She rests her head on Mike’s shoulder.
Mike moves his shoulder away from Pat’s head. “Go ahead, girl. You’re blocking all the testosterone up in here.”
Pat waves at the crowd of people at the bar, their eyes glued to Monday Night Football. “How do you know if any of them are gay?”
Mike only raises his eyebrows, and I shake my head at the two of them. Pat, who is the most heterosexual being I have ever met, goes on dates with Mike, the strong, silent gay guy. Yet if you ever saw either one of them on the street, you’d think Pat was a librarian with her granny glasses and old-fashioned clothes and Mike was a preacher all dressed up sharp in electric blue.
Oooh, that E. Lynn Harris! Every time you turn around there’s another gay black man in a book. And what is Ty, who seems to be levelheaded, doing with a freak and a homosexual? I know they’re friends, but come on! Is everything going to be “opposites attract”