We were served many beers during golf (the beer-cart girl made several more appearances and shot me devil eyes at the way I was flirting with Dustin), and at this point, we needed some food to fill our stomachs and keep us from going off the deep end.
“I guess we can call this the last supper,” I said as we handed the server back our menus after ordering.
“Why?” Chip asked.
“Kit Cat is getting deported.”
It was the first time I felt as though Chip dropped the veil of his ridiculous personality. “What? Are you fucking serious?”
I nodded.
Phoebe shot me a concerned look. “Don’t talk like that. We’re going to figure something out.”
“What are we going to figure out, exactly?” I responded. “There’s nothing left to figure out. I’m getting deported. That’s the end of it. I don’t get why we have to pretend like it’s not happening when it is. It’s a thing.” I felt bad that my little tirade had sobered up our fun conversation, but I also wanted to be a realist.
“Spain’s a great country,” I added, trying to lighten the mood. But now I felt like I was parroting Phil’s talking points. “Maybe I can take up painting like I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve never had enough time to do something like that.”
An awkward silence took over the table, and I took a sip of my drink.
“Let’s pick a different topic. Just about anything aside from my deportation will do. Dustin,” I said, knocking my hand down on his wrist. “Why don’t you tell us something about you that not a lot of people know?”
He smiled slyly. “So ... aside from just about everything about me?”
I felt a warmth emanate through my body as our skin touched. “How about this? What’s a question you’ve always wished interviewers would ask about you, but they never do?”
He ran a thumb over his stubble.
“They never ask me about the way of the Samurai.”
I rolled my eyes. “Be serious.”
“Iambeing serious. I love Japanese honor culture. Ask me anything about it.”
Even Chip seemed surprised, and I assumed teammates talked about everything.
“Okay, what do you like about it?”
“Besides the Samurai swords?”
“Besides those.”
“Well, my grandfather served in World War II in Japan. He stayed there after the war ended. So, basically whenever I would go over to his house I would find a bunch of old books about Japan, and it got me started reading. I love the aspect of Japanese honor culture that has to do with facing your enemy. The only way you can truly win a battle is by embracing your fear and using it against the enemy.”
“I must say, that’s not what I was expecting,” I said.
He shrugged. “You asked a good question. What about you, what is your side interest?”
I giggled. “I love anything to do with the 1920s. Music, books, clothes.”
“Why the 1920s?”
“It was one of the last fun decades in Spain. Well, for the Catalan people at least. Ernest Hemingway wrote his book about bullfighting in Madrid, and things were generally carefree. After the depression, the war, and the resulting dictatorship, things just went downhill.”
“So ... this is an oddly coherent conversation for the amount of drinking we’ve done today,” Phoebe jumped in.
“Agreed,” Chip said. “LeBlanc, I never knew you were such a closet nerd.”
“It’s cute how he calls youLeBlanc,” I chimed in.
