plates from the coffee table.
“Are we talking stuff from the ’80s or what?”
“Oh, no. We’re talking old. Black-and-white.” Meredith skirted the table and grabbed the game box off the top of the built-in cabinet behind Forbes.
George rubbed his hands together. “Brilliant. I love this game.”
“That’s because you’ve seen every old movie known to man,” Forbes groused. Over the last year, he’d become more familiar with Anne’s and Meredith’s—and their husbands’—favorite kinds of movies, mostly because either that’s what they watched whenever they all got together or because they now loved to play this game, which he’d bought in self-defense to keep from having to actually watch the old movies.
“Uh ... I think I have a classic movie channel in my digital cable package, but I’m never home long enough to watch any of them.”
“Oh, it’ll be fun. I think you’ll be surprised at how many you probably know and just don’t realize it. Isn’t that right, Forbes?” Meredith dug her knuckle into his shoulder.
“Sure.”
“Tell you what. Evelyn, why don’t you team up with Anne. Forbes, you can partner with George. And Major and I’ll be a team.”
Like there would be any thought of splitting up the newlyweds. “Sounds fair.” He moved onto the sofa beside George while Anne went around to sit with Evelyn.
As the game progressed, Forbes heard many of his own sardonic remarks about some of the questions and the corresponding film clips on the DVD-based game coming out of Evelyn’s mouth at the same time. For the first time, he started to enjoy playing this game because, for once, he finally had someone else in the room who felt the same way he did about old movies—better off forgotten.
He did get a couple of answers no one else did. Though they came as no shock to his relatives, Evelyn gave him a quizzical look.
He shrugged. “I’ve tried to see every film version ever made of my favorite author’s work.”
“Your favorite author?”
“Charles Dickens.”
She scrunched up her face. “Dickens? Dickens is your favorite author? How did that happen? You don’t strike me as the dusty-books-in-library type.”
No. He kept his complete Dickens collection well dusted. “I minored in English in college. Rhetoric, but I had to take several literature classes. We read excerpts of Bleak House in one of them, and I was hooked. Had to read the whole book—which was not an easy task the first time, I’ll tell you. But he had so much to say about the legal system in England in the mid-nineteenth century. I ended up writing my senior thesis on it.”
Anne, Meredith, and Major stared at him.
“You never told me that.” Meredith looked hurt. “I knew he was your favorite, but I just figured it was for the same reason that John Wayne movies are my favorite. Just because.”
He clapped his hands to his knees. “Well, now you know. Shall we continue with the game? I believe George and I just moved into the lead.”
***
“Alaine, come on. You’ve got promos to do.” Pricilla stood in the doorway of Alaine’s cubicle Monday morning, tapping her foot.
“Hold on just a second.” Alaine bookmarked the Web page on class-action lawsuits in real-estate and eminent-domain cases. “Okay. I’m coming.” She shrugged into the cropped red blazer the sponsoring clothing shop had dropped off last week. It pulled a bit in the shoulders, but she only had to wear it for ninety minutes.
As soon as she hit the studio, she got wired up with her lapel microphone, then hooked her interruptible feedback box onto the back of her waistband, turned it on, and plugged in her earpiece just in case someone from the control room needed her. The printout of the show rundown was on her chair on the set.
“Hey, Lainey!” Brent Douglas, the daytime meteorologist, gave her his standard, cocky grin when he entered the studio a few seconds later.
Not only did she hate that nickname, but now every
“Are we talking stuff from the ’80s or what?”
“Oh, no. We’re talking old. Black-and-white.” Meredith skirted the table and grabbed the game box off the top of the built-in cabinet behind Forbes.
George rubbed his hands together. “Brilliant. I love this game.”
“That’s because you’ve seen every old movie known to man,” Forbes groused. Over the last year, he’d become more familiar with Anne’s and Meredith’s—and their husbands’—favorite kinds of movies, mostly because either that’s what they watched whenever they all got together or because they now loved to play this game, which he’d bought in self-defense to keep from having to actually watch the old movies.
“Uh ... I think I have a classic movie channel in my digital cable package, but I’m never home long enough to watch any of them.”
“Oh, it’ll be fun. I think you’ll be surprised at how many you probably know and just don’t realize it. Isn’t that right, Forbes?” Meredith dug her knuckle into his shoulder.
“Sure.”
“Tell you what. Evelyn, why don’t you team up with Anne. Forbes, you can partner with George. And Major and I’ll be a team.”
Like there would be any thought of splitting up the newlyweds. “Sounds fair.” He moved onto the sofa beside George while Anne went around to sit with Evelyn.
As the game progressed, Forbes heard many of his own sardonic remarks about some of the questions and the corresponding film clips on the DVD-based game coming out of Evelyn’s mouth at the same time. For the first time, he started to enjoy playing this game because, for once, he finally had someone else in the room who felt the same way he did about old movies—better off forgotten.
He did get a couple of answers no one else did. Though they came as no shock to his relatives, Evelyn gave him a quizzical look.
He shrugged. “I’ve tried to see every film version ever made of my favorite author’s work.”
“Your favorite author?”
“Charles Dickens.”
She scrunched up her face. “Dickens? Dickens is your favorite author? How did that happen? You don’t strike me as the dusty-books-in-library type.”
No. He kept his complete Dickens collection well dusted. “I minored in English in college. Rhetoric, but I had to take several literature classes. We read excerpts of Bleak House in one of them, and I was hooked. Had to read the whole book—which was not an easy task the first time, I’ll tell you. But he had so much to say about the legal system in England in the mid-nineteenth century. I ended up writing my senior thesis on it.”
Anne, Meredith, and Major stared at him.
“You never told me that.” Meredith looked hurt. “I knew he was your favorite, but I just figured it was for the same reason that John Wayne movies are my favorite. Just because.”
He clapped his hands to his knees. “Well, now you know. Shall we continue with the game? I believe George and I just moved into the lead.”
***
“Alaine, come on. You’ve got promos to do.” Pricilla stood in the doorway of Alaine’s cubicle Monday morning, tapping her foot.
“Hold on just a second.” Alaine bookmarked the Web page on class-action lawsuits in real-estate and eminent-domain cases. “Okay. I’m coming.” She shrugged into the cropped red blazer the sponsoring clothing shop had dropped off last week. It pulled a bit in the shoulders, but she only had to wear it for ninety minutes.
As soon as she hit the studio, she got wired up with her lapel microphone, then hooked her interruptible feedback box onto the back of her waistband, turned it on, and plugged in her earpiece just in case someone from the control room needed her. The printout of the show rundown was on her chair on the set.
“Hey, Lainey!” Brent Douglas, the daytime meteorologist, gave her his standard, cocky grin when he entered the studio a few seconds later.
Not only did she hate that nickname, but now every
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