“I just heard about the land and wondered if you had heard anything.”
“No. I haven’t. And, until I hear otherwise I’ll just believe its some rumor. Now, I’m busy. Go for a walk or something, Roberta. I can’t believe you took the day off to talk to me about this.” Vanessa’s voice rose in a way that sounded more like a question than a comment. Roberta pulled at her purse, grabbed a folding mirror out of it and checked her face. She wiped at the corner of her mouth and coughed slightly. She closed the mirror and slipped it into the zippered compartment of her handbag. Roberta looked solemnly into her mother’s eyes.
“Rick and I are splitting.”
“What?”
“He told me last week when he handed me separation papers and a property settlement. I just left the lawyer’s.
His office is close and I thought I’d stop by.” “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”
“Yea. Me too.”
“Why didn’t you say something before?”
“I don’t know… Oh, mom. I feel just awful. I want to die.” Roberta began to get emotional.
I walked in and Vanessa and Roberta were locked in a meaningful hug. Roberta broke from her mother’s embrace when she saw me and turned away. From behind her, I could see she was wiping her eyes. With her back to me, she grabbed her purse, and quietly said “good-bye” to her mother, and walked out of the diner. Vanessa turned and saw me standing there.
“Oh, sorry, Vanessa. I didn’t realize.”
“What? You didn’t realize what?” She said it as though she were pissed at me. She pressed a couple of buttons on the key in the cash register, it made a ding and opened up.
“I’m just sorry, that’s all.”
“You know, Georgette, it’s funny how history repeats itself especially within a family. Bobby left me, and now Rick is leaving Roberta. I don’t know why I didn’t see it coming. I guess I just hope that somehow things will end up differently, you know? Like when Bobby started fooling around with you. I thought it was a silly phase or something. I never believed that this many years later I would be alone. I wonder sometimes, if you’d never come here at all, if things would have worked out the same way. Probably not.”
I didn’t know what to say. We were at work having, the restaurant was packed and we were having this muffled conversation by the register. I began to feel smaller and smaller. I was disappearing and in clear view, all at the same time. I just stood there and let her have her say. Inside I knew I’d been waiting for this moment for years. I thought I could stave it off longer somehow. But, here we were face to face talking about the plaid elephant in front of us, how I stole Bobby away from her. Vanessa seemed so much bigger now, stronger, righteous. And, I felt like a used shoe. It wasn’t over yet.
“You walk around here like you’ve done nothing wrong.” She was picking up momentum and feeling good about finally letting everything out. “But, in fact, you ruined my family—split us up! You took everything away from me and Roberta. And, here we stand discussing it finally. And, for what? Nothing. Nothing. It doesn’t mean one goddamn thing. You know, Georgette, I have a mind to walk out of here. Let you know how it feels—to be left entirely alone. Maybe I’ll sell my half of the diner to someone else. I’m sick of this place anyway, sick of the work, the long hours, and honestly, Georgette, I’m sick of you!” Vanessa slammed the cash register door.
I just stood there with nothing to say, feeling like every eye in the joint was on me, expecting us to resort to fisticuffs. She looked at me with a hatred that had started growing in her a long time ago. What could I do? Bobby was the only man I’d ever loved and the only man Roberta had ever loved. When I didn’t respond she looked at me with disdain, shook her head, and quietly said, “please,” like she wanted nothing more than to be hundreds of miles away from me. It was an hour since our lunch shift had started and she walked out.
***
After the rush was over and the wait-staff left, I grabbed a bottle of red wine that had been opened. I poured it into a tumbler and sat down on the floor. The wine went straight to my head. I hadn’t eaten since earlier that morning but the cabernet felt warm when it hit my stomach and I didn’t care after a few more swallows. With no dinner that evening I would take a small holiday, granted, it was only for a few hours but still, the unwinding would do me good, and it did.
When I got home the cat was yowling as if I’d left him with no food for days. I usually returned home from the diner after lunch around two-thirty in the afternoon. It was close dinner time and Gangster was having a fit but the cemetery had called to me. I needed to talk to Bobby again. It had been several days since I’d gone and I felt guilty.
As soon as I got to his grave I sat on the ground and began to cry. I still had a full glass of wine I’d taken from the restaurant and lord forgive me, I was driving with it. Albeit, only a mile but still it’s illegal.
The rug of grass was still short and green and smelled like a freshly mown carpet. The heat steamed low along the top of it and I kicked my shoes off to rub my feet in its carpet.
“Hey, Bobby. I sure do miss you. Things aren’t going so good right now, but I guess you can see that!” I couldn’t hold back my tears and had no tissue to wipe my nose so I used my shirt sleeve. “Your family hates me so much. I understand why but, it still hurts, you know? Why’d you have to leave so soon, honey? There’s not a day that goes by I don’t think about you, about us. Things were good and, now, I have nothing.” I took a long slow sip from my glass. “You are my only friend, I have no one else. You were the only real family I ever had—ever. When momma died I was totally alone. Not that me and her were exactly close, not after I was grown anyway. That’s why I left and when I found you—I found my only true family. So, you see, now, I have nothing.”
For two hours I stayed there just sitting and sipping my wine, wiping my nose, and feeling sorry for myself. Two hours came and went and not one other solitary soul was there besides me—no landscapers, visitors, preachers, mourners, no one. It was sad a place.
After two hours, I thought about leaving—getting out of Sunnydale, once and for all. My plan was to sell my half of the restaurant to Vanessa, or Roberta, or both. I had no one there anymore who meant anything to me.
Maybe I could find a place where people wanted to become friends, close friends maybe even so close they might consider me part of their family. I was going to set off on a quest in hopes of finding what I’d always longed for as a child—lots of people milling around the table on Thanksgiving, piles and piles of toys at Christmas time, family reunions, fifty-year anniversaries with parents, things I’d only experienced as a very young child and now could barely remember. By Bobby’s grave I formulated how I would do all of this. I’d have to find a brand new location maybe near water again, sell my interest in the business, sell the house, pack up the cat, get a mover, and disappear. It would be the noblest thing to do. I was not only reminded daily at the diner of Bobby, but I reminded Vanessa about Bobby daily as well. It was the right thing. I knew then what I had to do.
CHAPTER 10
Even though the world had successfully entered the twenty-first Century, Helen Pyle still wore clothes reminiscent of the 1950s—cotton tight-wasted, button- down dresses with flared skirts. She kept her hair neatly sprayed tightly twisted and pinned to the back of her head. Her horn-rimmed glasses added to the flavor of the time. She kept to herself, for the most part.
As the days neared summer one warm spring afternoon while the mayor was in Phoenix on business, Helen walked into the diner for lunch and ended up staying for dinner. It was a night we didn’t serve dinner, but later that evening we fixed her some anyway. It was the least we could do.
I’d only seen her with her husband or alone at the mercantile so this night stood out for me, and Vanessa too. She wore her usual throwback outfit and shrinkingly entered the restaurant pulling off her sunglasses. Few people were still around when she walked in. Aside from two other tables she had most of the
place to herself. She ordered a patty-melt and onion rings which she loved but rarely ate because the mayor said it caused her to have bad breath and didn’t like it. She started out with a coke and by the end of lunch was on her second glass of wine.
Because so few people were there Vanessa was kind enough to sit with her off and on and talk to her a little between working. Then, everyone but Helen was gone and she was getting a little tipsy. She’d been there for two hours and didn’t appear to be leaving anytime soon. The husband was away and she was relishing her time alone. I’d always felt sorry for Mrs. Pyle. She seemed nice enough but she never got a word in edgewise when the mayor was around. She was a backdrop to him.
The giggling started after her second glass of white zinfandel and after lunch hour Vanessa poured herself a glass of chardonnay and sidled up in the booth across from her. The kitchen was nearly cleaned when José poked his head in and whispered, “You really have to see what’s going on out there.” He sniggered a little, shook his head, and was heading out the back to work in his garden before heading home. As he walked out he said something in Spanish and chuckled a little louder just before pushing through the door. I untied the back of my apron and hung it from a hook and peeked out the kitchen door’s window. From my vantage point it looked like the girls were ripping it up. Helen’s hands were waving and she was belly-laughing. Vanessa’s head was dropping and her shoulders were shaking from laughter. I couldn’t imagine the conversation and boldly went out to see what the hell was going on. Helen’s tight bun looked loose and strands of hair poked out of her bun in wisps around her wine-reddened cheeks. Her eyes took on a sexy glaze and sparkled as she spoke.
“Ladies.” When I said it, they busted up. “Having some fun, are we?”
“Georgie, sit down. Helen and I were sharing a glass of wine. Care to join us?”
“Why not?”
“Why not, indeed!” Helen roared when she repeated my statement.
“I’ll get some cab, I’m a red-wine woman myself.” When I got back to the table with my glass I had to make a decision where to sit. I could sit with Helen but I really didn’t know her, or I could sit with Vanessa. I turned to get one of the other chairs at another table behind me, but heard a thick slap on the booth’s seat. It was Vanessa’s hand. She scooted over and motioned for me with her patting hand to sit next to her.
“Georgie, Mrs. Pyle was telling…”
“Helen, please.” Mrs. Pyle untied the silk scarf around her neck and used it like a fan.
“Helen was telling me about how she and Mayor Pyle met.”
“Well, he wasn’t a mayor when we met!” The wine had loosened her vocal chords and she inadvertently yelled what normally would have been a comment then giggled and snorted about the volume and placed her hand over her lips, she went on,“He was the skinniest little nerd in high school!” She pursed her lips and blew out when she laughed like a balloon losing its air. We all began laughing, in part because she was openly getting intoxicated but, also, because we were having fun at the expense of the mayor.
Then, she asked as she looked at both of us back and forth, “How did you all meet your husband?” She roared at her own boldness. Vanessa looked down at the table and my hands automatically flew up to cover my face. I couldn’t believe she’d spoken the unspeakable and… it was hysterical. I wanted to bellow out but knew it was inappropriate. Helen remained quiet as she watched us. I sat motionless for a couple of beats when I heard a slow deep huh, huh, huh from the left of me where Vanessa was sitting. I lifted my left hand from over my eye and saw Vanessa outwardly amused by Helen’s comments. Then, my hands dropped to the table and we all looked at each other and busted up.
We laughed and talked for quite some time. It turned out the mayor was quite a control-freak and she was thrilled he’d left town if for only the next three days. Vanessa and I made it a point to try to arrange a get- together again, just the three of us before his return. We decided after dinner the next night we would go out to Harvey’s, our local corner bar and attempt to sing karaoke. Why not, right?
The sun was dipping in the sky and we were all a little hungry so we made something to eat. We wined and dined Helen and she had a ball, we all had a ball. It was the first time since Bobby that I hadn’t thought of him on the hour. I spent my first night out without my husband in a long time. Helen and I had a girls’ night out and enjoyed ourselves.
CHAPTER 11
“Leyla! I need the purchase agreements for the Sunnydale land A-S-A-P!” Leyla ran into Zach Pinzer’s office holding legal documents in front of her ready to put on his desk.
“Sorry, Mr. Pinzer. I just finished making the changes you needed.”
“I’ll get these signed.” He quickly signed the papers as he was talking. “You notarize them and get them off with the seller’s copy to the mayor of Sunnydale today. We need this turned around no later than tomorrow. Courier them to him today. Give him all the appropriate mailing packages he’ll need to get them back to us. He’s waiting for this stuff right now. I just talked to him. So, go! Let me know when he gets it.” Leyla ran out of the office with the documents in-hand. Pinzer was known around the office as a hard-hitting, hungry young executive with nerves of steel and a cutthroat style if anything stood in his way.
On the way down to the copier, Leyla nearly ran head into Mr. Chariot. Mr. John Chariot had started Chariot International Inc. when he was a young man out of college. With his family’s help he financed his first development project and sold it for enough to pay back his debt with interest as well as pay staff and laborers, plus make a healthy profit. After twenty-five years, he’d built a reputation as a stand-up person and an honest businessman. He lived by the motto “You only have your name.” And, he meant it. He wanted people to associate his name—his company—with respect and decency.
“Leyla, slow down. What’s the rush?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Chariot! I’m so sorry.”
“What are you in such a hurry about? People shouldn’t have to run through the office to get their work done. You tell Pinzer, that’s straight from me.”
“It’s the Sunnydale purchase agreements. I have to get them to the mayor today so he can return them tomorrow.”
“Did you say Sunnydale?”
“Yes, Mr. Chariot. Mr. Pinzer told me to get them out right away.”
“Can I have a look at those, Leyla?” Reluctantly Leyla handed John Chariot the contracts. He flipped through a couple of pages while they stood together.
“You know what, there’s one other thing we might need to specify. I’ll take these to Zach right now. You slow down and take a break, okay? This can wait.”
“Yes, Mr. Chariot.”
John Chariot ventured up to the third floor only on Tuesdays. Normally, Monday he spent in one of his two satellite offices or at a development site. He closed Zach’s office door behind him.
“Zach, what the hell is this? I thought we were clear on corridor properties, no corridors, no tourist traps. I told you Sunnydale is not the kind of property Chariot is interested in pursuing. What do you think you’re pulling?”
“John, I’ve seen it done so many times and very successfully. This is my budget and my baby.”
“This is my business!” “John…”
“It’s over Zach. Find a property with an already established demographic. I don’t want to see this sort of formula within our company. Am I clear?”
“But, John.”
“Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir. You’re clear.”
After Chariot left, Pinzer sulked in his office. He called the mayor of Sunnydale to tell him about the delay. “Mayor Pyle, hello. Zach Pinzer here. There’s been a delay… no, nothing serious… yes, that’s why I’m calling. Is tomorrow okay for you? I’ll hand deliver them myself… great, see you then.”
When Pinzer hung up he felt stronger and even more sure that the plan would work. He’d have to lay low and move quickly. But, he’d see
this project through. It would be successful. He would be seen as the future of Chariot. Zach stood up behind his desk and stretched. He looked out on the smog blanketing Phoenix.
“Leyla.” He called over the intercom.
“Yes, Mr. Pinzer.” “Come in here please.”
Leyla opened the door diminutively. She started to explain how Chariot intercepted her and got the documents. But Zach hushed her.
“Come in and shut the door. Put the Do Not Disturb sign up, too, please.” Leyla smiled sweetly. “Are you wearing any underwear today, Leyla?” Leyla giggled and coyly pulled up her skirt around her bare hips.
“Excellent… come here.”
CHAPTER 12
The southwest sun was doing its usual thing and another warmer than normal spring brought an early onset of cactus flowers. The frying blaze burnt them off before the week was over. Sweat rolled from under my breasts and the bandana around my neck was soaked.
It was about ten in the morning, I still had a headache from all the wine I’d drunk the evening before and Vanessa and I were prepping for dinner when he showed up at the back door—the delivery door. It was ajar to help circulate in some fresh air. This morning that’s where he showed up, quite suddenly, as a matter of fact. And, when I think back I still can’t remember hearing him arrive in a car.
He looked to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties. He was a young version of a corporate bigwig with his overly pressed shirt and pleated pants. The only thing out of place was a loosened tie. It looked like he had pulled on it slightly for affect. His nutty- colored severely short hair glistened with gel.
“Ms. Georgette Carlisle?” He called from the frame of the door. “That’s me.”
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