Easy to Like by Edward Riche Page A

for drinks last
Christmas, Connie read the situation perfectly, but Elliot would not be
convinced that his ex-wife was having an affair with her Salvadoran
housecleaner. When he saw it was true, Elliot assumed Lucy was, with her acute
liberal guilt, confusing pussy and politics. But moving in with Ascencion made
it more than a dalliance.
    Hefty, hirsute Ascencion was glowering
at Elliot now from an exquisite chair he’d given Lucy years ago. He’d found it
in a small antique shop in Marseille. It was at a time when he was actively
trying to rekindle the romance. He thought giving her a beautiful thing from
France would make Lucy recall their time together there. But Lucy had only ever
seen it as a chair, a gift from Elliot that was actually for himself.
    Elliot believed, because of its
measured use of Art Nouveau ornament, that the piece might be by Édouard
Colonna. He couldn’t see it in a place in Pico. Lucy didn’t know its worth.
Would it be inappropriate to ask for it back? Put it along the lines of
relieving her of the burden of moving it.
    â€œI have a cheque for you.” Elliot held
up an envelope. Seeing no one coming for it, he laid it on the coffee table.
    â€œGig?” asked Lucy.
    â€œNo. Wine sales, actually.”
    Ascencion scoffed at Elliot’s lie. What
did she know about wine or his business?
    â€œWow,” said Lucy. “I never would have
thought . . .”
    â€œYou? Any work?” Elliot punished Lucy
for her lover’s presumptuousness. Of course there was no work: Lucy was selling
the house. She was grey-listed in town. Her last two features were modestly
budgeted, justifiably lauded by the critics, and still lost money. And she was
deducted points for being a woman and over forty. Lucy said she was abandoning
“entertainment” and focusing on a couple of documentary projects. Elliot knew
they would pose surprising questions, be filmically inventive, and connect, in a
profound way, with a tiny audience. She was as whip-smart and original as when
he’d first met her, when they made that film together, discovered France, sought
their fortune. He still loved her.
    â€œYou don’t really want to know about
me, Elliot. So I will tell you that, yes, I saw Mark last week, and there’s been
a positive development.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œThey’ve determined, the corrections
people, that he is functionally illiterate.”
    â€œWhat the fuck?”
    â€œYes. And if you think about it, that
explains a lot.”
    â€œNo. He had a full-time tutor on Family Planning , what was his name? Kenneth.”
    â€œDid you ever know Mark to read?”
    â€œI . . . thought
so. He played a lot of video games, so . . .”
    â€œAnd it was Kenneth, I believe, who
introduced Mark to narcotics.”
    â€œI thought it was Harvey, the best
boy.”
    â€œIn any event, he’s taking a literacy
program they offer there. The Muslims are encouraging him.”
    â€œMuslims?”
    â€œHe’s converted to Islam.”
    â€œBe serious.”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œI don’t think that’s good.”
    â€œThey’ve got him reading.”
    â€œWhat? The Quran? In Arabic?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œYou can’t convert if you’re not
anything to begin with. We raised him with no beliefs.”
    â€œ Nunca queria
salir en television ,” said Ascencion. “ Nunca
queria que todo el mundo le miraba! ”
    What was she saying? Elliot’s Spanish
was hopeless. Mark never wanted to be on television? Sure he did.
    â€œI want to do a doc,” said Lucy, “about
the social cost of draconian drug laws in America.”
    â€œNot been done?”
    â€œName one.”
    Elliot couldn’t.
    â€œNot a polemic, use Mark’s story as a
thread.”
    â€œMark won’t talk to me because I got
him a job on a television show and now you want to