by Mary Leo
I could feel the bubbles creeping down my forehead. “Is this how you normally wash a client’s hair?”
“I thought you might want your hair to be extra clean,” she said, as bubbles began to creep down my face.
I didn’t want her to stop her talking, so I went along with the bubbly wash and wiped the excess suds away with my towel and asked her another question. “What kind of secrets?”
“Oh, don’t play coy with me. You’re a smart woman, Mia. You know exactly the kind of secret I’m talking about,” she sounded evil at that moment.
I remembered the rumor about her dad having millions of dollars that no one could find. Did Carmen know where those millions were hidden? Did the money have something to do with all of this?
“You mean the money? But I thought that wasn’t real. That it was just a rumor.
“Don’t play dumb, Mia. It’s beneath you. Of course, it was the fucking money. I wanted that money. I deserved it for all the shit my dad put me through. What? Just because he’s the only son, he gets all the money? What kind of fucked up backwards mob thinking is that?”
Suds drifted into the corners of my mouth. They tasted kind of sweet, like cotton candy. I suddenly got the feeling there was more to these bubbles than just soap. Like she’d added something to the mixture… a drug perhaps? Maybe the same drug she’d used on Angelina?
My heart began to race as I tried my best to keep the suds from completely engulfing my face.
“Carmen wanted to keep the money?”
“That’s just it. He was going to give it to me . . . all of it. Every dime. At least that’s what he said the night before he disappeared. The night before Giuseppe made him disappear.”
“But you don’t know that for a fact. Besides, you like Giuseppe. You brought his clothes over to my apartment.”
“He reminds me of Joe in Roman Holiday. The guy who took care of the princess, Audrey Hepburn. I thought Giuseppe was my Joe. My Gregory Peck. But he’s a dirty liar,” she screamed. “They were all dirty liars.” She lowered her voice, and whispered in my soapy ear. “Except for your dad.”
“My dad? What does he have to do with anything?”
“When Angelina said she was engaged to my Joe when everybody knew your dad wanted you to marry Joe . . . I mean Giuseppe . . . something inside of me broke wide open. Your dad had been kind to me when I was in Italy. Much more kind than my own dad, who wouldn’t allow me to watch TV when I was a kid, and kept me away from all movies that he’d thought were bad for me. Roman Holiday was one of them. But I got even with him. And you can understand why I had to do it, right?”
“You mean turning him in for money-laundering through your salon?”
The bubbles kept growing as she kept shampooing. I never realized just how vulnerable a person could be while getting their hair washed. I was hoping that Nick and Lisa were on their way because the bubbles were now creeping down my arms and covering my chest.
“That’s just it, my dad, Frankie Pisano, didn’t launder anything but my mouth with a bar of soap every time I said something he didn’t like. I just made it look as if he was laundering money and the stupid sap took the rap, like I knew he would, to protect me. Parents, ya can’t live with ‘em, but ya can depend on them to keep their mouth shut about their kids. That’s when he told me about Carmen and the money. Everything would have been fine if Angelina hadn’t wanted to get rid of Carmen so she could marry my Joe.”
“That was never true. You have to believe me.”
“You’re just like the rest of them. All liars.”
I was now having trouble keeping up with all the bubbles. They were everywhere now, even in my nose. Breathing was getting difficult.
“Gianna, can we maybe rinse my hair now so we can talk about this? My nose hairs don’t need a shampoo, thanks.”
“You can never be too clean. Not when you’re going to marry my Joe.”
I tried to get up, but she held me down by my shoulders. “Let me up, Gianna. Joe won’t like it if he finds out that you tried to drown me in bubbles.”
“You should’ve taken the tea I offered you.”
Her voice sounded so sinister, as if she’d taken on some horror movie persona.
“Jade!” I yelled. “Jade! Help!”
I squirmed and tried to reach behind me to grab her, and I almost had her, but my hands were too slippery from soapsuds.
“She can’t hear you. I put a sedative in her drink. The same one I used on Angelina.
I only put four Xanax in that bottle of wine. Nobody would die from that, and it wasn’t as if she drank the whole bottle. Just one lousy glass and she passed out on the bed.”
“We found her in bed,” I mumbled and bubbles came blowing out from around my mouth. Pretty bubbles in rainbow colors. “How did you know to cut the Freon line in the fridge?”
“Oh that.” She giggled and kept right on lathering my head. “That actually happened to me at an old hotel in Northern Italy. I was sharing a room with a girl who was giving me a ride, and she woke me up because of the smell. I had a hard time waking up, and if we didn’t have the windows wide open, we both would’ve died. I thought I was being clever, but your friend, Lisa, is just too damn good at sleuthing.”
“Yep, and Angelina’s ring wasn’t on her finger.”
“Of course not. What do you take me for? A fool? I slipped Giuseppe’s ring off her finger before I left.”
“Why?”
“It wasn’t hers. It was mine. Mine and Joe’s.”
“Joe is only a character in a movie. He isn’t real.”
“Don’t say that!” she shouted, holding my head in a vice grip between her strong hands. “Don’t you say that.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s better.” She still held me down, but not with such force. “Angelina deserved to swing from that olive tree, wearing that damn freedom necklace of hers. What the fuck? She actually celebrated when my poor half-brother went missing. What kind of a person celebrates that? Bitch! She deserved to die, just like you deserve to drown from a freak hair-washing accident. Once you’re gone, your dad will come to his senses and want me to marry Joe. After all, he told me I was just like a daughter to him. Then we can be exactly like Joe and Ann. I’ve rewritten the ending of that movie. Those writers completely messed it up. Princess Ann and Joe should’ve stayed together. They loved each other, and lovers belong together. I love Joe and he loves me. I now even have the engagement ring to prove it! Angelina didn’t deserve that ring, but I do! And now it’s mine.
“I’ve forgiven Joe for killing my half-brother. When I shot Giuseppe, I realized he didn’t deserve to die. I was so glad you and the other girls saved him. It was all Angelina’s fault. She put a spell on him, just like she put a spell on Carmen. But she’s dead now, and Joe is as sweet as ever to me. And now that I have his ring . . .”
And just as she was going to shove the spray hose over my nose and mouth, Jade came out from around the corner. “You mean this ring?” She held up her left hand, displaying Angelina’s engagement ring. “Because I have it now, and I’m never giving it up. I’m going to marry Joe!”
“How did you get that? How dare you go into another woman’s purse? Bitch!” she yelled.
Gianna freed my head and went after Jade. Problem was, she couldn’t get any traction from all the suds that were everywhere around us. She slipped and fell. When I tried to get to her, I slid and landed right on top of her. We struggled to get hold of each other, but the soap had turned everything into a slippery mess. I had no idea what beauty product she was using, but I wondered if they ran a caution on their label for over-sudsing.
“You should be dead,” Gianna yelled at Jade. “I put enough crushed Xanax in your drink to take down an elephant.”
“Like, we knew you’d drugged our drinks. Why do you think we got rid of the first one? Plus, I could smell that something was off with the wine. If there’s one thing I know, it’s
the difference between good and bad wine. It’s unfortunate that Angelina didn’t.”
“She was an easy mark. Almost too easy. Carmen was much harder to kill.”
“You killed Carmen?” I asked, as we struggled in the soapsuds. “But Giuseppe said . . . ”
“My Joe couldn’t kill a fly. Why do you think he has to get out of the ‘family business?’ He freezes up when the time comes. He’s just too damn nice, just like in the movie. Way too sweet.” She slithered around me, grabbing at my hair, me grabbing for her hair and both of us losing traction. I imagined this must be what mud wrestling felt like, only a lot cleaner.
“I had no choice but to kill Carmen. He was hoarding all of my dad’s money. Oh, he said it was all mine, but he lied. Giuseppe threatened him, tossed him around a little, and told him to leave. He was leaving all right, and he was going to take all the money with him, the dirty sonofabitch. Just because he was my half-brother didn’t mean he should get everything. All those years, all that time my dad spent in Italy, he was spending it with Carmen and his whore mother.”
“Wow,” Jade said. “And I thought the Spias were fucked up.”
“How could my own brother not share our dad’s money with me? I couldn’t allow that, so I shot him dead, and buried him under an olive tree. It was my money. Money I needed so Paul and I could be together.”
“Paul? Like, I thought you were in love with Joe,” Jade said.
“I am. But I’m in love with Paul, too. Just like Holly was, but she didn’t admit it until the very end. I think we’re at the end now.”
“What is she talking about? Who are Paul and Holly?” Jade asked, sounding completely confused, but I knew exactly what Gianna was saying.
“Breakfast at Tiffany’s: Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard. Save yourself,” I yelled to Jade, as Gianna reached up and grabbed an open bottle of shampoo. “She’s completely nuts. Call for help!”
And just as I braced myself for more shampoo, Lisa appeared. “I knew I couldn’t leave you two alone.”
“Help!” I said. “She’s too slick. I can’t grab her.”
“Nick and his team are on their way,” Lisa said. “We just have to secure her until he gets here!” I tried my best to get hold of Gianna who was like a slimy big fish, determined to get back into the water.
“I’m a dead shot, Gianna. So back off,” Jade said, pointing Angelina’s handgun at us, while she still wore the bright pink salon cape. The ugly, pink-haired Audrey Hepburn stared down at me from the center of Jade’s chest and somehow, even with that gun in her hand, I couldn’t take her seriously.
Gianna immediately slid under me, soapsuds blowing up my nose and fogging my eyes. I could barely see or breathe as I tried to push her off. Her large breasts smothered my face along with the soap, and until I found the crater of her massive cleavage that allowed me some breathing room, I thought for sure I was a goner.
“Try shooting me now, you miserable bitch!” Gianna shouted as she kept sliding around on top of me. I never realized what a sturdy, big boned girl Gianna was until that very moment. In one sense, the sudsy bubbles helped keep her weight from actually crushing me. She was simply too slippery to remain in one place.
“Jade, put that thing away,” I heard Lisa order. “When presented with a sudsy situation it’s best to use common table salt and or vinegar.”
And in the very next instant, Gianna and I were blasted with tiny salt crystals that clung to us like glue. The salt stung like a million pinpricks when it hit, but the suds instantly dissipated. Everything seemed to go dark for a few seconds, until I slid out from under Gianna who was now covered in salt and dying soapsuds.
“Hold it right there,” Nick said as he burst onto the scene, along with three of his Italian team, all dressed in trendsetting suits, shoes and hairstyles. They were all pointing handguns at Gianna who now slumped under the basins, my bright pink salon cape tangled around her body.
“She isn’t a phony because she’s a real phony. She believes all the crap she believes. You can’t talk her out of it,” Lisa said, and somehow I knew she wasn’t quoting her own book, but she was quoting lines from Breakfast At Tiffany’s.
Appropriate, I thought.
TWENTY-SIX
La Familia Means Never Having To Say You’re Sorry
It was standing room only inside St. Peter and Paul’s church. Large bouquets of flowers adorned every conceivable surface and statue. A choir, accompanied by Maryann and her accordion gals, belted out one Frank Sinatra love song after another. The entire Spia family along with most of the Lin family and various friends sat waiting inside the church for the bride to appear in the doorway.
It was a positively gorgeous fall day, with a warm breeze mixing the scent of pressed olives and grapes as it swept over the Valley of The Moon or Sonoma Valley, birthplace to both California’s wine industry and her olive oil industry. Home to the recovering Spia family and their thriving (if not scandalous) orchard.
Everything was perfect, even the lace and taffeta dress I hadn’t been sure of, but had been talked into by Lisa, Jade and Aunt Babe.
Unfortunately, getting out of the white limo in front of the church was proving to be more of a chore than planning the wedding itself.
“Like, everyone is waiting,” Jade said as she stood next to the limo looking like her beautiful self, dressed in a deep red gown that effortlessly slipped over her thin body causing her to look even more beautiful. Jade looked positively stunning.
Not only was she gorgeous, but she was proving to be a smart and sassy sleuth. She’d recorded that conversation I’d had with Gianna while she’d tried to drown me with bubbles, and turned her phone over to Nick. Plus, despite her weak stomach for dead people, she was fearless, a trait I admired. I couldn’t ask for a better sister.
“Let’s not rush her,” Lisa argued. “It’s her day to shine, and take it as slow or fast as she wants to.”
Lisa, the Voice of Reason. I didn’t know what I’d ever do without her in my life. Not only was she beautiful in that golden over-one-shoulder gown she wore with a delicate rose that gathered the material over her right hip, but she was a savior to so many women, not just to me. Her ability to figure out any situation, good or bad, and find a way to survive, was a testament to her amazing character and strong self-worth. I always wanted to grow up and be just like her . . . I was still growing.
If she hadn’t shown up when she did at Roman Holiday, Jade would’ve started shooting and there was no telling what might have happened once live ammunition was added to the mix. Once Lisa had secured the situation, Nick and his team took over. Gianna was facing a lot of years behind bars, but with her skillset I felt certain the other inmates would appreciate her styling abilities.
“You’re right,” Jade said. “I’m just anxious for her.”
“We all are, doll,” Aunt Babe added. Today she wore a red Rita Hayworth wig, a black strapless gown and long black gloves. Aside from the age difference, she would have made a great Gilda in that 40s era movie.
“I’m so nervous I think I’m gonna puke,” my mom said as she smoothed out the front of her dress. The tailor had altered her dress so it fit her little round body perfectly. Nothing was rolled up, too long, or too tight.
She hated it.
“You look beautiful, Mom,” I told her.
“My beauty isn’t the question. This should be your wedding, Mia. Not mine.”
And there it was, my mom’s condemnation of my choices. I knew she only wanted the best for me, but this time the best wasn’t possible, given my choices.
“We’ve already had this argument, Mom. Let’s not have it again. Not now. Not here.”
“I’m just saying,” Mom said. “You may have missed your opportunity for happiness.”
“Let’s see, my options for happiness were either an arranged marriage to a gangster or a marriage to a man who brought out the alcoholic in me. That kind of happy, I don’t need. Now, let’s go marry you off to a
man who actually brings you happiness the old-fashioned way, with his kindness, legal generosity, and his steadfast loyalty.”
A grin stretched across her face, something I rarely saw, and it warmed my heart. Apparently, I’d touched her soft underbelly . . . so to speak.
She easily slipped out of the limo and gave me a tight hug, along with the kiss-kiss on each cheek that I loved.
“You’re right about everything, my darling. I just wanted to hear it one more time. Now, let’s go get me a husband,” she said, then turned towards the open doorway on the church.
I texted Maryann that my mom was on her way in.
Accordion music filled the air.
The bridal party lined up with each bridesmaid hooking up with her groomsman.
I looked around for Giuseppe to take my arm, but instead an older man came forward and offered me his arm. I gazed back at my mom wondering what was going on.
She only smiled and nodded, as if this had been planned.
Jade lead the way with Jimmy as her escort, then Lisa with Nick, Aunt Babe and Uncle Ray stood directly in front of me, and I slipped my hand through . . . Enzo Spia’s arm. What the . . . ?
“Hello, my baby girl,” my dad whispered, his voice as raspy and deep as I remembered it. “Please try not to react or you’ll attract Nick’s attention, and I certainly wouldn’t want that.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying not to cry. I thought I would hate him . . . I did hate him . . . but I loved him at the same time.
For some reason, Lisa glanced back at us, and smiled almost as if she’d known this was going to happen.
“I couldn’t miss your wedding,” he mumbled, his thick Italian accent like music to my ears.
“But I’m not getting married,” I whispered, trying not to stare at him, wondering why he would take such a risk.