Making Do

Scott stood in the doorway of the dressing room and stared. “What the hell are you two doing?”

“We’re at a concert. Wanna join us?” Carolyn looked over her shoulder and smiled at him.

Bob was still sitting solemnly in front of the tiny TV, waving a lighter back and forth in time with the music. A picnic basket was laid out on the floor next to him. Used dishes were stacked neatly in a pile, and a half-eaten pie was on top of the pile. Someone had procured a bottle of bubbly and two champagne flutes, and the golden liquid was slowly losing its sparkle.

Scott glanced over his shoulder, then at the TV screen. He didn’t recognize the band, but whoever they were, they must have been popular, because the stadium they were playing to was huge, and it was packed.

Carolyn resumed waving her lighter.

“You two had a picnic in the dressing room and now you’re watching a concert on that lousy little machine?” Scott crossed his arms over his chest, amused.

Bob rolled his eyes at his older brother’s skepticism. “It’s not like we can go out on dates in public or anything. So we’re making do. You going to join us or not?”

“I won’t be interrupting your date?” Scott asked.

“We invited Dan and Clay to join us for the concert, but they looked at us like we were crazy,” Carolyn said.

Scott stifled a smile. “I see.” He listened to the song for a bit, and it was definitely worthy of a lighter or two. He sighed, fished in his pocket for his lighter, and sat down on the checkered blanket next to Carolyn. “What’s your plan for your next date?”

“John has some old National Geographic videos about the African Savannah, so we’re going on safari,” Bob said.

Scott flicked on his lighter, raised it above his head, and began to sway to the music.

(325 words)