by K L Finalley
"My final strike."
"Okay, guys. We have a thirty-minute drive back to the office. Let's talk. We've looked at two places. Neither quite fit the bill. You don't want a master planned community."
"Right. I want to have some control over what I do on my property," Jacqueline said.
"But, you don't want to live too far away either, right?"
"I don't want to spend an hour getting home unless we're staying in some mansion," Mallory agreed.
"What do you want other than two stories?"
"A great school for Zoe. And, a pool and dual closets for Mallory. You know, the second house is nice, but we need more of it. And, closer. I will give up the boat slip for a backyard Zoe can play in. We don't need a lot of yard, but some. And, I never thought about this until today, but we need a community that accepts us. We need a … progressive part of town. Can we find all of that?"
"I don't want to build. I don't want it to take that long. Is that okay, Jax?" Mallory said as she rested her head on the window. "I feel like we're never gonna find the right place."
"Sure, we will, baby." Jacqueline rubbed the back of her head. She spoke to Vicki. "Listen, I want somewhere that feels right. A place that Zoe can grow up in and go off to college and know it's home. It doesn't have to be super fancy. It just has to feel like home."
"We can do that. We can definitely do that. I've got a few ideas. I've been going about this all wrong. I think I know where you need to be. I need to see what's open and what feels like something you'd like. When do you want to look again?"
"As soon as you have something," Mallory mumbled.
"That's probably a good idea. We need to get the condo on the market today or tomorrow. Ethan said you have a meeting tomorrow," Vicki mentioned.
"Tomorrow afternoon," Jacqueline said. "Oh, I guess you got your money as well."
"Yes, I did, " Vicki shimmied in her seat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
In Florida, it's not just April showers that bring May flowers. There are also March showers. There were March showers when Jacqueline pulled up in front of the steakhouse in Temple Terrace. They were late to dinner. It was raining and it was the first time Jacqueline would meet Mallory's brother - on his birthday. "You and Zoe get out of the car and get inside. I'll park and find you."
Mallory refused. "I think we should walk in together. The first time you meet my entire family we should all be together."
Jacqueline didn't argue. She wasn't sure what to expect, so she quietly followed Mallory's lead. She parked the car as close as she could. Grabbing the umbrella from the back floorboard, she walked around the car and got both, Zoe and Mallory, from the safe haven of the car, under the umbrella, and escorted them into the restaurant. While she twirled the excess water from the umbrella, Mallory scanned the cowboy-themed restaurant for her family and Zoe clutched her uncle's present to her chest.
"Ready?" Mallory asked when she saw them.
"Are you?" Jacqueline replied.
"Of course," Mallory lied and led the way. They navigated around tables, past high chairs, and through the bar to a long table in the back. The left side of the table was full of family. The side was anchored by Richard, Mallory's father. Her mother, Barbara sat next to him. Her brother, Owen, and his wife, Noelle, were next. At the end of the table, there was a chair with a tall boy in it. Jacqueline assumed it was their oldest son, Wyatt. He was eleven. With his head down, she assumed he was playing on a video game on a cellphone. Across from his mother sat another child, a smaller child, it had to be Tanner, the couple's six-year-old.
When Zoe finally eyed them, she ran to the table, "Hey, Grandpa and Grandma. Hey, Uncle Owen. Hey, Aunt Noelle. Hey, Tanner. Hey, Wyatt." She sat in the seat next to Tanner.
The table was speaking to Zoe when Mallory and Jacqueline appeared. Mallory walked up and stopped. Jacqueline stopped behind her. "Sorry, we're late. It's been a heckuva day. Mom, Dad, you already know Jacqueline. Owen, Noelle, Tanner, Wyatt, this is Jacqueline. Jacqueline, this is my whole family." Then, she left Jacqueline standing alone, so that she could kiss them all.
Jacqueline waved and said, "It's nice to meet you." Then, she sat in the first chair on the right side across from Mr. Cummings.
In a worn ball cap that advertised an automotive parts company, Owen sat back in his chair. He was wearing a shirt that said Las Cruces and Jacqueline wondered if he had been there or if he bought it from a box store. She didn't get the chance to ask, because he said, "Funny, I can't say the same." Jacqueline chose to let the comment slide.
Mallory motioned from her family and sat between Jacqueline and Zoe. Holding the menu to her face, she said, "Have you guys ordered? I'm starving."
"Ordered fer ya," Owen mumbled.
"What?"
"I'm hungry. I worked all day, so I went 'head and ordered fer you 'n Zoe."
Shaking her head in shock, she said, "When'd we start doing that?"
"It's my birthday. I'm hungry. I didn't know when you'd get here, so I ordered fer ya."
"Well, what did you order for me?"
"I ordered you the same steak I got Noelle. Petit sirloin and fries."
"I don't want that."
"That's what's comin'," he said with his arms folded.
"I hate to interrupt, but is it safe to assume that no one ordered anything for me?" Jacqueline asked.
"Naw, I didn't order nuttin' fer you," Owen confirmed.
"That's fine. Honey, would you like something else?" she asked Mallory.
"Yes, I would like the…"
"This is bullshit. How are you gonna disrespect me?" Owen spread his arms open wide, flinging them in front of his wife and mother.
"Owen, control yourself," Barbara whispered.
"Mama, I ordered her dinner. Now, she's over there ordering something else like she don't like petit sirloin and fries."
"Owen, shut it. I'm a grown woman. I can order what I want," Mallory said while browsing the menu.
"Whatever, Mallory. Just hurry up." When the waitress appeared with the complimentary waters, drinks and dinner orders were placed.
Zoe had been busy playing tic tac toe with Tanner on the placemats when she remembered she had her Uncle Owen's gift under her seat. "Uncle Owen," she teased.
Teasing her back, "Zoe," he said.
"Guess what I got?"
"A big ole kiss for your only uncle?"
"And guess what else?"
He rubbed his dirty fingers along his chin as if to wonder what the girl could have, then he sprung his response, "What?"
"A birthday gift!" she giggled with glee.
"For me?" he asked.
"Uh huh," she nodded. Pushing her chair back, she reached under the table and retrieved the awkward box. Refusing to let anyone help, she stumbled around the table to him. "Open it," she demanded.
He scooted his chair back to make room for the small girl and the big box. He began slowly removing the paper.
"Faster," she demanded. Then, he went too fast. Giggling, she said, "You're so silly."
The company name appeared. He stopped and glanced in his sister's direction. "Is there somethin' else in this box?"
"Better open it and see," Mallory said enjoying his suspicion.
"Don't play with me."
"Just open it, Owen," she folded her arms and smiled.
He removed the box's top. Peeling back the paper, the sound of crinkled paper framed the table's anticipation. Then, there they were. Gator leather boots with cow lining. He had wanted them for years, but he had never been able to afford them. He never would have. An extra eight hundred dollars to spend on boots would never be an option for a father of two working at a warehouse. Shock came over his face. He looked back at his little sister.
"Oh baby. Those are sweet," Noelle said looking over his shoulder.
Their parents reigned their necks to look.
"Mallory, I don't know what to say. I never thought I'd…" She waved him off.
Zoe
broke in. "Are those right, Uncle Owen? Me and Jax drove all over to get the right ones."
Owen's face changed. Gratitude became disbelief. Disbelief yielded anger. "What?" his neck whipped backwards.
Jacqueline jumped in hoping to save the moment that she saw quickly deteriorating. "Hold on. Your sister ordered your boots. They came to the house. She was working and asked me to open them. They were wrong. They weren't the ones you wanted. I looked online to see what she ordered versus what she received. I called around looking for them."
"We had to go to two boot stores to find the right ones," Zoe was still helping. "We went all the way to Desota."
"Sarasota," Jacqueline corrected her.
Owen was seething. He cocked and recocked his old hat. He looked at his niece as though she had betrayed him. He looked at his sister, at Jacqueline, and, at the boots. Then, he pushed them away from him. With his elbow on the table, he outstretched his large forearm and pointed in Jacqueline direction. "Don't you use your dirty money to try and buy me and my family. I don't want your damn dirty gift."
Jacqueline wasn't immediately angry. Her mind hung on the word dirty. Dirty. She knew she shouldn't pander to his anger, his disillusionment, his prejudice, but she couldn't resist. "Are you asking me if I bought your gift with illegal money?"
"Oh, I know you did," Owen said. There was spittle in the corners of his mouth.
"How amazingly untrue that is, but I'm going to let you think it for a moment. I have a point to make." Jacqueline said. Mallory placed her hand on Jacqueline's arm and lowered her head. It was her quiet plea to ask her to stop, but Jacqueline couldn't. She wouldn't. Owen had intended to offend her, but his attempt was so absurd that she wanted to point out its failure. She had to. She wasn't planning to make a scene. She'd let him do that on his own, but she felt she was due a response. "If everything I own has been funded by illegal money, then I'm not a street hustler. I would have to be a distributor or something. If that's true, you probably shouldn't disclose my business in the steakhouse in Temple Terrace."
"Shit, I ain't scared."
"I have to ask. What's the newspaper thing?" Jacqueline questioned.
"A cover," he said with confidence.
"Okay. I can't even continue this. First of all, your sister works. She left the paper to be a Program Director for a television show. Did you know that?" He stared at his sister.
"Mama says you got a penthouse. You say it ain't drugs. Then, how do you afford it?" Owen asked.
Jacqueline glanced around the table. The children sat preoccupied. They played their games and were either unaware of the failure of his manners or just accustomed to his behavior. The adults sat with downturned heads. They were ashamed, but none of them said anything. None of them stopped him; none of them interjected. She looked to her right. There, Mallory sat. She was holding onto Jacqueline's arm. She hadn't shied away from physical contact, but she didn't seem to have the strength to fight either. Jacqueline wanted to fight. She wanted to toss the table over and have at it. She had a feeling that Owen had bullied the family for years; and that was something that she knew a thing or two about. However, after years of counseling, she knew better. Reason gripped her. This wasn't how she wanted to behave in front of Zoe; and if there was any chance, ever, of having a relationship with any member of this family, she was required to keep her cool. So, she agreed. "You wanna know?"
"Yeah, I wanna know. I think we all deserve an answer," Owen sat up in his chair as if he'd accomplished something, as if he was preparing to dethrone her to his family.
"Well, then, sit back and hold onto your ball cap." He sat back in his chair. The other adults looked up in anticipation of a dramatic story that was to be told. It was, then, that Mallory regained her strength. Out of the corner of Jacqueline's eye, she could see Mallory's discontent with their satisfaction, their desire to hear a story of epic proportions. They were on the edge of their seats. She released Jacqueline's arm and folded her own. Her crossed leg began to shake. All eyes were on Jacqueline as she took a deep breath. She reached across the table, grabbed a roll, and ate a bit of it. Then, she washed it down with some water, exhaled a deep breath, and with closed eyes, and, in a single word, said, "Inheritance."
"What?" Barbara asked.
"Inheritance. My father passed away a few years ago. I used some of the money from his estate to buy the condo. And, Owen, as you know drug lords, do not have estates. I would imagine they keep their cash on hand," she said soberly.
"I'm sorry about your loss," Noelle uttered.
"Thank you. It's been a few years, but I do wish he was here."
"What'd he die from?" Noelle continued with genuine empathy.
"Heart attack."
"What'd he do? You know, when he was alive?" she continued to want to know about Jacqueline's father.
"A lot of things really. He started his career in a seventies funk band. He was the leader of the band and its percussionist. The woman who would become my mother was the lead singer. They had three hit albums, a couple of gold records, and a baby. After the band and the marriage broke up, he stayed in California. He worked in advertising for a while, then he moved to film scoring." She lifted her shoulders. "Sorry, Owen. It's not a very interesting story. All I did was buy a condo with some of the money from my father's life insurance."
"Barb and I are kids of the seventies. If you don't mind me asking, what was the name of the band? The one your parents were in?" Richard chimed in.
"The Measure."
He became excited. Turning to his wife, he said, "Do you remember them? I used to sing one of their songs to you." Mallory and Owen stared at the two.
"I do. What was the name of it? It was about the water. My God. That was thirty years ago." Barbara was humming the tune.
Jacqueline smiled to herself. Then, she said, "Ocean Lovin'."
"That's it! That was it! We used to dance to that song." Barb said.
"That was years ago. Owen was little. Was Mallory even born yet?"
"Yeah, she was. She would have been a few years old." Jacqueline added.
"We were so young, then. Do you remember, Rich?" Barb asked leaning towards him.
He placed his arm around her. "I sure do, Barbie."
"Well, this is all bullshit. I don't know what's going on with this family, but I gotta get some air," Owen pushed his chair back and walked out. Jacqueline watched as Mallory followed him.
She zigged and zagged through the restaurant saying his name, but he didn't stop. He walked past the entrance and into the parking lot. Once there, he pushed opened one of the double doors and paced on the asphalt.
"Owen, I know you hear me," Mallory said as she exited the restaurant.
"Hell, yeah, I hear ya and I see ya, too. I just don't know fer the life of me what yer doin'."
"What?"
"I'm not Mama and Daddy. I'm not gonna pretend like this is okay. You're a grown ass woman. It's too late now to experiment or whatever the fuck it is yer doin' with that…"
"I swear to God. Don't you dare say anything but her name."
"I wasn't gunna say anything."
"Owen, what's your fucking problem?"
"My fuckin' problem? If you weren't so full of yourself, Cody would've stuck it out with you."
"First of all, no one wants Cody. No one ever wanted Cody, but you. Cody doesn't want me. I don't want Cody."
Sucking on his newly lit cigarette, he said, "He sure doesn't want ya, now."
"He never did. It was your fucking bright idea. He just doesn't have the balls to tell your dumb ass."
With the cigarette hanging from his lips, he grabbed her arms, looked into her eyes, and asked her, "Why can't you just go back to men?" He waited for a second hoping she might have an answer. When she didn't reply, he offered, "I'll help you find one. We can tone down this professional, career woman thing and get you a good guy."
She shook free. "You're the dumbest person I know. This is why we can't get along. When
I was young, I used to look up to you. But, the moment I got out of that godforsaken city and realized how dumb you really are, things have never been the same. I came here, because I really do want us to be a family. I came here to share my happiness with my family. I gotta good job, a very nice raise, a nice place, and someone who loves me. And, listen, we are selling that condo that your dumbass can't figure out. We're buying a new place. I'm not going anywhere. We're planning a life together. We spent the morning looking at houses." Owen pulled his cap tight on his head. "Owen, I love her. I'm not going anywhere. I've never been happier."
Quietly boiling, he moaned, "Did you ever think about what you're doin' to Zoe? You're messin' her up."
"Does she look messed up?" Mallory pointed back at the restaurant.
"What if she turns out gay?"
"All I want is for her to turn out happy," Mallory said.
Owen stormed past her, snatched open the glass door, and rammed back inside the restaurant. In his anger, he knocked over the toothpicks and peppermints from the hostess stand. He returned to the table and announced, "I can't do this. We're leaving. Boys, get yer stuff." He kissed his mother and shook his father's hand.
"Uncle Owen, you didn't eat," Zoe observed.
"I ain't hungry, baby girl," he said as he waited on Noelle to gather the kids together. He placed his calloused hand on the table, leaned forward, and kissed Zoe on the forehead. He said, "I love you."
"I love you, too," she replied.
Returning to her chair, Mallory goaded him, "Don't worry. Jacqueline and I'll get your check."
"Fuck you, Mallory," he said to his little sister as he stormed out of the restaurant.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mallory was pounding on her keyboard. She struck the keys with such vengeance that from the atrium Hannah could hear the strikes. She'd been reading a contract and wasn't certain what the noise was, but she backed up and peered into Mallory's office and witnessed the keyboard abuse. Rather than interfere, cautiously, she reached into the office, took a hold of the glass door, and released the door stop. Then, she continued down the aisle.
For a few minutes, Mallory stopped taking her frustrations out on the keys. She couldn't figure out who she was more upset with: her parents for doing nothing, Owen for being the ass he was, or herself for bothering to hope that her family could be happy for her. She wasn't sure why she even made the effort.