The Chocolate Kiss-Off

by Heather Haven

  Percy chortled. “You always know how to make me laugh, Hutchers. Thanks.”

  “That’s what friends are for. Speaking of friends, Howie is free and the new owner of a chocolate factory because of you. I hope he appreciates it.”

  “He does.”

  “Here’s a bonus. Lieutenant Griffin’s got a red face from arresting the wrong person. The papers have crucified him.”

  “So I read.”

  “Yeah, but he still wound up taking credit for most of your work.”

  “That’s the way it goes.”

  “Tell me, do you get free candy from Howie for the rest of your life?”

  “I’d better. I gave him the blue book with the formula in it, so it should be pretty tasty stuff. It’s in Spanish, but he had it translated.”

  “And just where did you get that book, Perce?”

  “Slips my mind. I’ve been to a lot of places lately.”

  “Uh-huh.” He raised one eyebrow and studied her. “You know, that book might be considered evidence.”

  “Come on. It’s just Carlotta’s recipe for chocolate. Not much else in it. But I’m sure Howie would be willing to share it with you flatfoots, now that he’s copied the formula from it. Like some other people,” she added under her breath.

  “You’re one for the books, yourself, Perce,” Hutchers said with a laugh. “Did I tell you about the two men we arrested a few days ago?”

  Percy shook her head without looking at him. He went on.

  “Middle of the night. Driving with two flat tires. Got pulled over for endangerment and damned if they weren’t half naked when they were told to step out of the car. Nineteen degrees, no shoes, and in their skivvies. Said their trousers and shoes were stolen by a big woman wearing a fedora. Ring a bell?”

  He turned to Percy with a grin. She feigned taking a moment to think, then shook her head again. Hutchers let out a laugh, while throwing his cigarette butt into another puddle.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “I should get upstairs.” Percy made a move toward the stoop of the building then turned around. “You sure you don’t want to join us?”

  “Nah. But here, this is for you.” He withdrew a small heart-shaped red box from inside the breast pocket of his coat. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  “Why, thank you, Detective Ken Hutchers.” She took it in her hand and turned it over. “Hershey’s Chocolates? And with Howie owning his own chocolate business now?”

  “I figured you been eating enough of his stuff. Give you a variety. Before you told me, I thought all of it was just, you know, chocolate. But you say the taste is different, so I guess it’s different.”

  “Oh, I say so. And Hershey’s Chocolate just might be my favorite. But, let’s not tell Howie.”

  She came toward him and placed a gentle kiss on Hutchers’ lips. Without moving, he returned it just as gently. She pulled away and looked at him with a grin.

  “I’ll see you around, Hutchers.”

  “Yes, you will. Maybe I can take you out for your birthday. I hear that’s coming up.”

  “You bet.”

  Chapter Forty-one

  Percy climbed the stairs to her apartment, listening to the hub-bub that got louder with every step. It sounded like everyone on the east side was there, but how often do you get to attend an all out bash in these troubled times?

  Between the Coles and Goldbergs, every dime and ration coupon they could raise had been spent on Howie’s Welcome Home Party. But knowing the neighbors as she did, Percy knew each one of them would contribute a potluck dish to the occasion. Good people all, as Pop said.

  She stepped inside the hallway of the apartment where it was wall to wall humanity having a wonderful time. Smells of lasagna, roast pork, and brisket of beef made her mouth water. Bursts of jovial voices and raucous laughter peppered the air. Glenn Miller’s rendition of “I’ve Got a Gal In Kalamazoo” filtered out from the kitchen. Percy heard Mother singing along with it in a loud, but thin voice.

  Mother’s been at the sherry again.

  Percy’s name was called. She looked over the sea of heads and recognized her sister’s hand above the crowd waving frantically at her. Sera called again, jumping up and down.

  “Percy, Percy!”

  Sera pushed her way through the throng and breathless, stood in front of her older sister. Her face shone bright and freshly scrubbed, devoid of the usual pound and a half of makeup she wore. Eyes sparkling, Sera wore a smile that almost broke her face.

  “Percy, I was so afraid I wouldn’t see you before we left.”

  “Left? Where are you going? And who’s we?”

  Before Sera could answer, a young private first class came to her side wearing a dress uniform. Percy recognized him right away.

  “Bobby? Bobby Evans? I don’t believe it. I thought you were overseas.”

  “He was, but he’s back. For eight whole days,” replied Sera.

  Wordless, Bobby smiled and wrapped an arm around Sera.

  “And we’re getting married, Percy,” Sera said in a rush, snuggling into Bobby’s chest. “Day after tomorrow at City Hall. Say you’ll come. Say you’ll come,” Sera begged.

  Stunned, Percy stared first at one happy young person then the other. “Married? But I thought you two broke up.”

  “Oh, we did,” said Sera, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “But that was months ago. He asked me to marry him yesterday and I said yes. Isn’t that grand?”

  “Sure, sure,” Percy stuttered.

  “We’ve got to go, Percy,” Sera said, looking at her watch. “We’re late now. Bobby’s parents are throwing us an engagement party for all his friends and relatives. I’m sorry.”

  Sera managed to look contrite for a moment before going on.

  “But this is the only night his whole family can get together. His uncle, who’s a staff sergeant, goes back to France tomorrow morning. He can’t even be here for the wedding. Isn’t that sad?”

  Sera looked at Bobby, who shrugged amiably, but still hadn’t said a word. Then they both looked at Percy and grinned like two Cheshire cats out of Alice in Wonderland. Sera snatched at Bobby’s hand and gave him a tug toward the door.

  “See you later,” Sera said into the air.

  As Bobby passed Percy, he looked up at her and whispered. “I love her desperately, you know.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Percy yelled to their departing backs.

  The barking of two dogs captured Percy’s attention. At her feet Freddie the dog, appeared and sat up on hind legs in a greeting. She swooped him up in her arms. Right after, Oliver, carrying Poopsie, collided into her. He looked up.

  “Mommy,” Oliver said with surprise. Then his eyes became wide in dismay. “This isn’t my fault, Mommy. I put the dogs in my room like you said. Somebody opened the door and let them out. Nobody stepped on them yet, but I couldn’t carry both of them. Freddie got away.”

  With her free hand, Percy cupped the back of Oliver’s head and guided him to her bedroom door. She opened it and pushed him gently inside. Closing the door, she set Freddie on the floor and turned to Oliver. So serious, so responsible, in some ways the oldest soul she’d ever met – that was her son.

  “I’m sure you did, Oliver, and it’s all right. Somebody probably opened the door thinking it was the bathroom. We’ll keep the dogs in here and I’ll lock the door, okay? This way nobody can get in and the dogs can’t get out again. Now put Poopsie down and let’s go get something to eat.”

  Reluctantly, Oliver set the smaller dog on the floor.

  “Can’t we keep Poopsie, Mommy? He doesn’t eat much and Freddie and he play together all the time. Can we? Huh?”

  “We’ve already had this discussion, Oliver. Poopsie is Uncle Howie’s dog now. Poopsie and Howie have been friends for a long time. Besides, Uncle Howie’s lonely with his roommate off fighting the war. You don’t want him sitting all alone while you have two pets to yourself, do you?”

  The boy
struggled with the idea for a moment. “I guess not. And Uncle Howie says he takes Poopsie to work with him every day. But he doesn’t give him any chocolate, though. He says he read somewhere chocolate’s not good for dogs.”

  “Well, then I guess you’d better not give any to Freddie, either.”

  Oliver’s mother bent down to ruffle her son’s hair. Then she took his hand and led him to her desk. After sitting down in the chair, she hoisted the boy on her lap. Her voice was soft as she leaned her chin down on the top of his head.

  “Oliver, you’re getting to be a big boy now.”

  “Almost nine!”

  “That old? My, my. I thought it was more like eight and a half.”

  “Eight and seven months. I counted them.”

  “Yes, that’s a big boy. How would you like to go out for Chinese food tomorrow night? Just you and me? I want to talk to you about something.”

  Oliver craned his neck and looked up at his mother. The sweetness of him tightened her throat.

  “You mean just you and me? Nobody else?”

  “I do.”

  “Not grandpa or grandmother or Aunt Sera?”

  “Nobody but you and me.”

  “Oh, boy! Can I have eggrolls?”

  “As many as you want.”

  “Wow! Lucky me.”

  “Lucky me, too, Oliver. Lucky me.”

  The boy climbed off his mother’s lap and turned to her.

  “Are you going to tell me about my father?”

  Percy was silent for a time. Finally, she spoke.

  “I am.”

  He stood looking at her then licked his lips. His voice held a slight tremble.

  “He’s not coming back, is he, Mommy?”

  “No, son. He’s not. There’s been an accident, a terrible car accident, and he…” Percy broke off, not wanting the say the words that were so final. “He didn’t make it, Oliver. It happened a long time ago. Come here.” She pulled him back on her lap, enveloping him in a hug then covering the top of his head with kisses. “I’m sorry, Oliver, so sorry.”

  He hugged her back, more tightly than she could have imagined. His muffled voice was small but clear.

  “That’s why he didn’t come back to us, right Mommy? He couldn’t.”

  With only a fleeting hesitation, Percy said, “That’s right. He couldn’t.” She pulled him away from her and looked directly in his face. “But you’ve got me, and grandmother, grandpa, Aunt Sera, Uncle Jude, Uncle Howie --”

  “And Freddie.” Oliver interrupted, looking down at the pet that sat staring up at the two of them. Large brown eyes searched their faces aware, as a dog often is, that something serious was happening.

  Percy choked on a pent up sob or laugh; she wasn’t sure which. “That’s right. You’ve got Freddie. So many people love you, Oliver. Never forget that.”

  Percy kissed her son lightly on top of the head again and pushed him off her lap. “Now let’s get out to the party and have a good time, okay? Later on you can ask me any questions you have about this. At any time and as often as you want, okay?”

  “Okay.” His face took on a somber look. “But are we still going out for Chinese food tomorrow?”

  “You bet we are. And not just tomorrow. We’ll go next week, too. Whenever you like. You and me. Now go find Freddie – the kid – and play or something. Are you sure you want to keep the dog named Freddie? It’s not too late to change it. We’ve got Fred Rendell senior, Freddie junior, and now Freddie the dog. That’s a lot of Freds.”

  “Oh, yes ma’am. But Freddie’s a good name. I like it.”

  Chapter Forty-two

  There was a whoop and a spurt of laughter coming out from the parlor. Percy pushed her way through the crowd gravitating toward Howie’s laugh.

  “Hey, Howie. How’s it going?”

  “Hey, Percy!” Howie wheeled around at the sound of her voice then fairly shouted to the crowd in the room. “Look, everyone. My savior has arrived, the heroine of the hour. Let’s hear it for Percy Cole!”

  Applause filled the air. Embarrassed, Percy gestured for everyone to stop. Friends and neighbors laughed at her apparent shyness and, none too soon for Percy, went back to their conversations.

  “Hey, your hands are empty,” Howie exclaimed. “Someone go get the lady a glass of red wine and a meatball sandwich,” he shouted out.

  An older man Percy knew from across the street smiled, saluted, and made his way through the crowd in compliance. Howie leaned in with a wicked expression on his face.

  “Or would you rather have some lobster? I left some on the other side of the Peacock screen for you, just in case. It fell off the truck this morning, courtesy of Alf. I told him those days were gone, but I confiscated part of the load for tonight’s party, including some Chianti. He promised he’d be better from now on.”

  “You believe him, Howie?”

  “I think there’s good in the man, after all.”

  “You believe there’s good in everybody.”

  “I’m giving him a chance. And I made Vinnie his boss. He’ll toe the line or answer to him. Vinnie’s tougher than I thought. He’s sure tough on me, even though he’s supposed to be my assistant. He’ll keep all of us in line.”

  “I been out of the loop for a couple of days answering questions for the cops in three boroughs, but it sounds like Vinnie’s got some backbone,” Percy said, as her neighbor thrust a glass of wine in one hand and a meatball sandwich in the other. “I heard Carlotta’s cousin signed the papers to inherit her estate and took off for Chicago again.”

  “He didn’t even stop by the factory. Maybe everything that happened scared him off.”

  “Could be.” Or maybe he didn’t care about anything other than what went into his pocket.

  Almost as if reading her mind, Howie said, “It’s sad. No one seems to mourn the loss of Carlotta Mendez. Hardly anyone was at her funeral besides me.”

  “I don’t think she had a knack for making friends.”

  “Maybe not. But nobody deserves to be buried alone.”

  “Howie, never change. You’re one of life’s good guys.” She took a bite out of the sandwich, red sauce running down her chin. “Man, this is tasty. You make this?”

  Her friend nodded with a smile then became serious. “Percy, I don’t think I told you how grateful I --”

  “Don’t make me hit you, Howie,” Percy said in between chews of food. “You thanked me plenty. I know you’re grateful. Enough already.”

  “You’re a good friend, Persephone Cole. If it hadn’t been for you and Jude --”

  “Where is Jude?” Percy interrupted her friend again, looking around her.

  “He was around a minute ago. He mentioned something about going to the preliminary hearing for Lola Mae, I mean, Marianna. It was set for tonight in Brooklyn.”

  “Wants to make sure she doesn’t get out on an insanity plea, I’ll bet.”

  “She might be insane, Percy. Look at all she’s done. What sane person does that?”

  “An amoral one who’s looking for a lot of dough, and doesn’t mind framing a friend and neighbor to get it, that’s who.”

  “Maybe.” Howie shrugged and looked away. “It’s sad though.”

  “Then let’s change the subject. What do you hear from Ralph?”

  “He’s coming home on leave in a month. I can’t wait. Did you see the chocolate heart-shaped Valentine’s Day cake I made in your honor? A one-of-a-kind.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Three layers of dense chocolate. I got this idea to take the chocolate formula and put it in a cake mix. So far, rave reviews on the ones I made yesterday and the day before. I’m thinking of making only chocolate cakes and brownies from now on. Leave the candy to Schatzi. She’s a nice girl; deserves a break, I think.”

  “Of course, you do.”

  “Anyway, some big restaurants are interested in carrying my cakes, like Sardi’s. I brought them some today and they loved it. I’m branching out in
a whole new direction.”

  “Sounds like it. Congratulations.” She looked around her. “Where are our parents?”

  “The Moms are in the kitchen, but you don’t want to go in there. At least, not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “They’re having one of their ‘discussions’.

  “Uh-oh.”

  “It seems my mom tried to reorganize your mom’s spice cabinet. Then your mom tried to put Spam in my mom’s brisket of beef so it would stretch farther. All out civil war.”

  “Those two have been having battles like that for years. It’s part of what makes them tick.”

  “Dad fled to the apartment downstairs about ten minutes ago, but he has to be up early to open the store tomorrow. He was making gefilte fish for the party since four am this morning. You should try it. It’s good.”

  “I will. Where’s Pop?”

  “The last time I saw him was when he stepped out on the back porch for some air. I’ll bet he’s still there.”

  She looked around, and raised her voice over the din.

  “I think I’ll go find him. The party sure is in full swing.”

  “It’s a doozy. Been going on for nearly two hours, Percy. The whole neighborhood is here and then some. Glad you finally showed up.”

  She turned to leave when Howie’s voice stayed her.

  “And Percy, once again, please let me thank --”

  “Oh, shut up,” Percy interrupted him with a growl. She pressed her way through the mob but shouted over someone’s head, “Say that one more time, and I’ll slug you.”

  Howie laughed and blew her a kiss. “I’m going to say it as many times as I want, so slug away.”

  Ten minutes later, after meeting and greeting half the neighborhood crammed inside the apartment, Percy made it to the small porch at the rear and opened the back door. Protected somewhat from the elements by an overhang, it was almost as warm as inside the apartment.

  In one corner of the four by six foot porch was the Cole washing/wringer machine. Empty clotheslines strung with clothespins danced in the evening breeze.

  In the other corner Pop sat in his worn rocking chair, his place of escape with a cigar when he could afford one. With the weather warmer than it had been in weeks, Pop was wearing only a wool sweater over his white shirt. His special occasion tie, a blue and green hound’s-tooth design, dangled from his neck. He looked somber and deep in thought.