Free The Pursuit of Alice Thrift by Elinor Lipman Page A

grandmother’s
funeral
all day yesterday.”
    Yolanda said without any indulgence in her voice, “So when should I tell them you’ll get here?”
    â€œMaybe fifteen minutes, if I run.”
    Leo held up his hands and flicked both sets of fingers three times.
    â€œMore likely thirty. I just got in. And my roommate is in the shower so I have to wait my turn.”
    Leo flashed a thumbs-up.
    â€œThe most I can do is pass on your message,” said Yolanda.
    I looked up and mouthed, Not happy. Leo reclaimed the receiver and said, “Yolanda? It’s Leo Frawley, soaking wet. Look, she’s in no shape to make rounds. Can you finesse this? I mean, like a half hour? It’s not like she was out partying last night and couldn’t get out of bed this morning—you know what I’m saying?”
    She must have said something like, “Dr. Thrift? Partying? That’s a good one,” because Leo answered, “Yeah, well, there’s a lot to be said for keeping your nose to the grindstone when you’re expected to work eighteen-hour days.”
    I stood up, tapped my watch, and pointed across the hall to the bathroom.
    He hung up quickly and asked, “How was yesterday? Awful?”
    â€œVery sad. And the minister was a complete stranger, so that didn’t help.”
    â€œI guess I meant, how did Ray work out as an escort?”
    â€œGood and bad.”
    He pointed to the chair I’d just vacated and I sat back down. “Good as transportation. Good at taking my side in a family fracas. Bad at being grammatical and appropriate.”
    â€œI could have predicted that,” said Leo. “There’s something slimy about him. And he tries too hard. He’s clearly waging a campaign to win your hand.”
    â€œMy hand?” I repeated. “You mean, as in marriage?”
    â€œOf course. He’s not a kid. He’s a widower. Don’t you read magazines? Men who were once married get hooked up again as soon as they can because they know single men die younger than married men. Ask any actuary.”
    I said, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
    â€œThen you’re blind. He’s looking for his next wife and he thinks her name is Alice.”
    I took a long gulp of coffee. “Okay. Maybe he is. But it’s only human nature to look for someone who can return his feelings, and when he realized I couldn’t, he finally gave up.”
    Leo said, “I don’t want to make you any later than you already are, but I think I have more to say on the subject of Ray—namely that he kept coming back without any encouragement, so why would he bow out now?”
    I said, “Maybe you and I can grab a sandwich in the cafeteria.”
    â€œIf my five minutes overlaps with yours, you mean.”
    â€œOr tonight.”
    â€œCan’t tonight,” said Leo.
    â€œSame woman?”
    â€œDinner with my mother,” he said.
Mutha
was how he said the word:
Dinna with my mutha.
    I waited, thinking he might sweep me up into the party, in that way of large families with boardinghouse tables and bottomless stews.
    â€œYou didn’t want to come home and have dinner at my house, did you?” asked Leo. “Is that what I’m reading in your face? ‘Leo, invite me to your house because I haven’t had a really stringy piece of meat in months, and I’m dying to be interrogated about my life, my sleeping arrangements, and my grandmother’s last days on earth.’ ”
    I said, “Actually, I’d welcome the opportunity to observe you in a family context.”
    Leo said, “Is that Thrift-speak for ‘Excellent! I’ve been dying to meet your mother, Leo’?”
    I didn’t see the difference, but I said yes, it was.

8.
Leo’s House
    WE TOOK THE RIVERSIDE LINE TO KENMORE SQUARE, THEN SWITCHED to a Boston College car, outbound. When stymied by a turnstile, I had to confess that I