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Brunch At The Marbury (Part 2)

“Phyl, I don’t know if we should be here.” Aundrea stood on the front stoop holding the door handle as if to open it for her friend.

“He invited you to brunch. Don’t make it hard, kid. He likes you. I know it. He was even holding your hand during the service.”

“That’s part of the problem.”

“Open the door. Go inside. No problems unless you’re making them. It’s just brunch. You’ll be fine.”

Aundrea took a deep breath of chilly Christmastime air and pulled the door for Phyllis. “I hope you’re right about this.”

“Of course I am. The French Toast is absolutely to die for.”

“French Toast? Phyl, be serious.”

“Why? You’re being serious enough for the both of us.”

“Oh, there are those weird kids.”

“Who?” Phyllis looked around.

“The ones who crammed in on the other side of Jeb.”

“They’re not kids, Aundrea. They’re the same age as you.”

“What?”

“Yeah, kid. They graduated a year behind you.”

“Oh, that explains it. I barely had time for my own classmates. If they weren’t in softball or basketball, I wouldn’t have known them.”

Phyl laughed heartily as she watched Trilby and Marta scurry toward the bathroom. “Not much chance either of those two were playing basketball.”

“That’s for sure. The pasty-looking one looks like she’d shatter in a high wind. My goodness, I’ve never seen anyone so skinny except…”

“Except who, honey?”

“I don’t want to think about it. Once a year is already too much.”

“Who? That guy?”

“What? No! He always looked just like that. It was the nasty piece of work he had with him. She used to be bone-skinny.”

“She went to culinary school?”

“No, part of our schooling was serving as kitchen staff at some of the other schools. She was in the STEM Academy. Used to be scary smart. Now, she’s just scary.”

“Sorry to dredge up bad memories, honey. Let’s put that on the back burner. The future is over there.” She looked over at the table where Jeb was sitting.

Aundrea looked over at him. “How can I think about the future with that kind of past hanging over my head?”

“Let’s just deal with the here and now. We’re here and it’s now. I’m telling you, French Toast. Seriously.”

“What would I do without you, Phyl?”

“Miss out on the French Toast, for one thing. C’mon. I’m hungry.” Phyl made a beeline for the table and plopped down next to Jeb. “Hi, Fran. Hi, Sam. Jeb.”

“Hi, Phyllis. Glad you could make it. Jeb was just showing us the bear carving he’s working on. It’s such a fine piece of work. You should see it.” Mr. Kwock stood up to bring her Jeb’s phone. “It’s a beaut.”

Phyllis looked at the photo closely. “My goodness, look how realistic that is.” She waved the phone at Aundrea to signal her to take a seat next to him.

Aundrea slid into the seat on Jeb’s right and took the phone. “Wow. Look at that.” She handed the phone back to Jeb. Their fingers touched. Their eyes met.

“I’m sorry.” Jeb said.

“For what?”

“For a lot of things, actually. Maybe we could talk about it after we’re done here.”

“I’d like that. Hey, Phyl has been talking my ear off about the French Toast they have here. Is it buffet style or are we waiting for a waiter?”

“It’s buffet, kid. Go dig in. I’ll go when you get back.” Phyllis smiled and turned to the Kwocks.

Aundrea took Jeb’s hand and they wandered over to the buffet.

“Oh, that’s not good.” Fran said quietly.

“What’s the matter?” Phyllis asked.

“Trilby really has her heart set on Jeb. He even invited her back to his place to visit.”

“Jeb’s playing the field?” Phyllis whistled as she slid a spoon back and forth between her fingers. “From hermit to hustler in a matter of weeks. I hope he doesn’t try anything weird. He’s likely to turn them both against him.”

“Personally, I don’t see it.” Sam said. “She’s way too short for him. He’d be a better match with the baker.”

“I’m with you.” Phyllis said.

“Well, you’ve got a vested interest.” Fran said. “She’s your friend.”

“It’s not just that. If I thought Trilby was a better match, I’d have talked Aundrea out of it already.”

“There. You see? It’s two to one.” Sam said to his wife. “Let’s discourage this obsession Trilby has with Jeb. He’s taken already. He’s clearly more interested in the baker.”

“You can call her Aundrea. She does have a name.”

“You seriously want to side with this bozo, Phyl?” Fran slapped him on the arm. “I’ve talked with Trilby many times over the years. She’s been madly in love with him all this time. How about Aundrea? I thought she was too busy and independent for something as pedestrian and cumbersome as a man.”

“Well, he’s not just any man. He used to go to her softball games when she was a kid.”

“Ha.” Sam said, poking Fran’s shoulder. “Was he holding Trilby’s hand? Look at them over there. That’s the real thing. I’m siding with Aundrea.”

“That’s because you want Trilby for yourself. I’m not dead yet and I’m not blind.”

Phyllis jumped up from the chair. “Okay. French Toast is calling. I’ll be back. Maybe.” She hurried over to the buffet and almost bowled over Trilby and Marta in the process. “Sorry, girls.”

“That’s alright.” Trilby said, leaning on Marta to regain her balance. “How are you? I haven’t seen you at the library in a couple of weeks.”

“Things got busy at the bakery with the Christmas rush. I renewed my latest batch online.”

“That’s great.” Trilby looked around Phyl. “Hey, where did Jeb go?”

“He and Aundrea went to get some food at the buffet. Look, I know you like him and everything but-”

“No buts except to butt out. I’m going to do what I can to make him mine.”

“I know what it’s like to-”

“Then you know to stay out of my way, Phyl. Until he puts a ring on somebody’s finger, he’s fair game.”

“Fair game? Are you going to mount his head on a plaque on your wall?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“I’m afraid I do, Trilby. Remember Melvin?”

“This isn’t like that at all. He was married.”

“And I wound up with a broken heart. Didn’t I. Melvin wasn’t the one for me no matter how badly I wanted him. Same with Jeb. Look at them.”

“I have to try, Phyl. If I don’t try, I’ll spend my life wondering if I gave up on something wonderful. Who better for a quiet guy to marry than a librarian?”

Marta just looked up at the ceiling in dismay and shook her head. The bells in her hair jingled a sad tune.