All That Was Happy by M.M. Wilshire

conditions
surrounding the Van Nuys restaurant rivaled that of the worst slums
of Bogota--served what was possibly the best Mexican food in the
city, if such a thing could be said to exist, and had served it for
the better part of thirty years without changing the menu a
whit.
    Huntington, it being his first time to visit
the joint, initially approached his plate as though it might be
exceedingly poisonous, but after a first, tentative bite, proceeded
to quickly make a good job of consuming with gusto the savory,
gravy-soaked platter of chili rellenos, plated alongside a greasy,
dripping taco lying atop a lake of mashed beans soaking in melted
cheese, the entire affair topped off with a hot tamale such as
could be normally found only in places south of the border where
the girth of a man was still a measure of his importance. At Taxco,
lard ruled, and lard, in spite of the bad press it received from
the Richard Simmons crowd, was mighty tasty stuff.
    “ I think love is real,” Huntington said
to Beckie. “But that doesn’t mean it’s good. What gets me is why
people assume that love, once they get hold of it, will fix all
their problems.”
    “ I think love can run up quite a tab,”
Beckie said. “And sometimes, when the bill comes due, we find out
we don’t have the resources to pay it. When Bernie had me served
yesterday, that was the bill for our twenty-nine years
together--I’m still picking myself up off the floor over that
one.”
    “ Beckie,” Ira said. “I just want you to
know I’m very ashamed of my brother. The mess he’s caused by taking
up with his sleazy concubine is unforgivable. We all have to make
choices in this life, and I must say, I’m totally against the
choice Bernie made.”
    “ Thank you, Ira,” Beckie said. “By the
way, do either you or Leah know where he’s staying?”
    Ira and Leah exchanged slightly uncomfortable
looks.
    “ Oh, don’t tell me!” Beckie said. “He’s
not at your place in Agoura!”
    “ The bum came to us yesterday afternoon
and begged us to let him sleep in the guest room for a few days,”
Leah said. “I was against it, but Ira caved in.”
    “ I should think you would have sent him
on his way,” Beckie said. “Especially you, Ira--Bernie’s your
brother. Don’t you think you could have at least sent him to a
hotel out of respect for me? The way it stands now, it looks like
you are siding with Bernie! What I don’t understand is--why he
isn’t staying with his tramp?”
    “ Beckie,” Leah said. “I don’t know if
now is the right time to tell you this. On the way over, Ira and I
discussed breaking the news to you. Ira was against me saying
anything, but I think you should know, Bernie broke it off with
Nolene.”
    “ What are you talking about--what do
you mean, he isn’t seeing Nolene anymore? She’s having his
baby.”
    “ Actually,” Ira said, “she’s not having
his baby. It seems that Nolene lied to Bernie about being pregnant
with his kid.”
    “ Did he fire her?” Beckie
said.
    “ Not exactly,” Ira said. “--she still
has her job, but he’s ending the relationship.”
    Beckie looked around helplessly, her action
drawing the attention of the drink waiter.
    “ I wasn’t calling you,” she said to the
waiter, “but as long as you’re here, you better bring me another
Margarita.”
    “ I think we could all use another,” Ira
said.
    This new reality carried with it a certain
freaky wavelength which began resonating unpleasantly within Beckie
as she realized the awful truth--Bernie had left her--not because
of another woman--but just because he wanted to. Somehow, the
abandonment had been tolerable when she’d understood the
justification to be the Oldest Reason In The World--another woman.
But the thought of her husband of twenty-nine years of marriage
who, after having dabbled in the wares of another chick and who had
subsequently taken out divorce papers on his wife as a result of
the comparison, her husband who’d