HAVE I GOT A GIRL FOR YOU

Charlie was a man of habit. For the past three years he had been retired from the general practice of law (“laboring in the trenches”, as he called it). He lived in a condo in Westwood Village, within walking distance of everything he needed that he didn’t order online: super market, pharmacy, two movie theaters, restaurants.

He had developed a predictable dining routine: On Mondays, he ate at the Meatball place on Gayley. Tuesdays he dined at Elysee, across the street. Wednesdays his daughter would pick him up at six and take him for dinner with her family in the Hollywood Hills. Thursdays were reserved for Pizza Night at Prince of Venice. He kept weekends open for visits with friends, Chinese takeout or leftovers.

At Elysee, during the past six months he had struck up a weekly conversation with Elyse (no relation) who usually waited on his table — by the window overlooking Gayley. Elyse was a junior at UCLA, a psych major with a minor in theater arts. Working at Elysee was her idea, although her mother had assured her that money for college wasn’t a problem. A headstrong, independent girl, she was determined to be as self-sufficient as possible, although she admitted that it was reassuring to know there was a family “cushion” if necessary.

Charlie had told Elyse about his own daughter and her family. When there weren’t other diners for her to wait on, he had entertained Elyse with “war stories” about his law practice (no names, just the fun stuff). He had spoken of his late wife, Sandy, and the trips they had taken before COPD claimed her, three years ago.

Finally, one quiet evening, Elyse asked, “May I introduce you to someone?”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “What kind of someone?”

“A female-type someone,“ she replied.

Charlie shuddered, but hoped Elyse hadn’t noticed. He was really quite content with his life the way it was. It’s not that he was still tied to Sandy, it’s just that he was, well, comfortable with the way things were: no obligations, no complications, no commitments, no hassles. Finally, he took a last drink of his tea and said, Well, that’s very kind of you, but I have a pretty fully social life as it is, between friends and family. And besides…”

Elyse nodded, knowingly, “Yes, Wednesdays at your daughter’s, Thursdays here with me.”

“No, it’s not just that,” Charlie protested.

“You don’t even know anything about her yet.”

“Right, it’s nothing personal. I’m just, well, content with my world, the way it is. Ugh. That makes it sound like I’m a stick-in-the-mud, or something.”

Elyse smirked, “Or something.”

“Besides,” Charlie added, “what’s the big deal about this friend of yours?”

“She’s my mother,” Elyse said, softly.

“Oh.”

“She’s about the most intelligent, decent, funny person I know.” Charlie swallowed.

Elyse pressed her perceived advantage: “I have an idea: What if she were just here some time, when you happened to be here?”

Charlie smirked, “Such as on a Thursday at dinnertime?”

Elyse nodded.

Charlie shrugged, “Everybody has to be somewhere.”

Elyse said, “Look, I have to clock out. See you soon, right?”
 Charlie nodded. “Yes, soon.”

***

The following week, Charlie had flown to San Francisco for a mini-reunion with two college pals. He was supposed to return to L.A. on Wednesday, but his friends had prevailed on him to stay an extra day to attend a Thursday Giants came. Wednesday night, he called Elysee and asked for Elyse. “I’m in San Fran. I won’t be in tomorrow night. Thought you should know…”

“In case someone else wants your table?” she offered.

“Yeah. Something like that. Uh, I’ll be back next week.”

“Sure”, she replied, then added, ‘Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Bye”, he said.

***

The following Thursday, Charlie appeared at Elysee, at 6:00

p.m., as was his custom. Elyse wasn’t there. A new girl waited on him, escorting him to another table, not his table, a larger table in a quiet section at the back corner of the main room.

He was about to complain, then realized what was happening. Once he was seated, Elyse appeared, with an older version of herself, fifty-something, trim brunette, dressed expensive casual chic, just about the most beautiful woman Charlie had ever seen. Oboy.

Charlie rose to greet the ladies.

Elyse said, “Mother, this is Charlie.” Charlie, Gena.”

Gena took Charlie’s extended hand in both of hers. Smiling softly, Charlie said, “Your daughter is a very persuasive young lady.”

Gena replied, “Yes, I’ve noticed” and added, “She evidently thinks very highly of you. This is quite a compliment.”

Charlie bit his lip, and managed “So I see.”

Gena blushed. “Oh, no, I’m not being egotistical. I mean, she’s very protective of me. She’s never done this before, fixing me up.”

Charlie nodded, “I accept the compliment.”

Intros made, ice broken, dinners ordered, they began to talk, back and forth, about their children, their histories, their travels, and lots of et ceteras. Dinner long done, they closed the restaurant, making plans to meet again.

Meet again they did, at ever-diminishing intervals, until meeting was a daily event, followed by a mutual desire to save driving the twenty minutes between their respective residences, followed by all that follows between two people who begrudge a twenty minute drive.

Charlie has modified his dinner schedule, enjoying most meals at home. The one constant, on Thursdays he and Gena dine out, at Elysee.