“They’re in someone else’s hands now. Someone who really appreciates their value.”
“Tell me who. Please! Who is she?”
“Not a woman,” the shopkeeper sneered. “A man, actually.”
Amy’s heart sank. “Was he very tall?” she asked hopefully. “And very bald. Fortyish?”
“What is it with you and your obsession with Yul Brynner?” she chided.
“Well?”
“Nope,” she said flatly. “Not even close.”
Her heart sank again. “Okay. Well, I guess that’s how it is, then. Sorry to have wasted your time,” she said as she headed out.
Amy stood outside the store and peered in the window, at the now-empty pedestal where those magnificent shoes once stood. Where she’d fallen in love with them. Where she’d made the decision to change her life. But catching her own reflection in the glass now, her face in the space where the shoes would have been, she had to do a double take. She wasn’t sure anymore who this woman was, with mousy bangs and no makeup, looking worn and boring and even a little old.
##
Walking up to her building, the Boys, reliable as ever, stood and waited for her. Though they said nothing to her at all as she approached.
“Hi, guys,” she said, and managed a weak wave. They turned away from her. “Really? Is this how it’s going to be now?”
They still said nothing until Mario finally spoke. “We can’t know you if you’re going to be with that douche bag.”
“That freaking guy didn’t even know it was your birthday,” said Frankie. “What a loser.”
“As long as you’re with him, you’re a loser,” said Tony, and he turned his back on her. “And we don’t talk to losers.” The rest of the guys grunted in agreement.
“Well, that’s all over now,” she said, and they all breathed a collective sigh of relief. “I’m just not sure what next from here.”
They were quiet before a moment until Frankie stepped forward and spoke. “That cop was here, Amy.”
“Ollie? Why?”
They exchanged worried glances among themselves but nobody spoke.
“Oh my God, what is it? Something about Deck?”
“Yes,” said Mario, and he nodded, solemnly.
“What happened to Deck? Did he go on a killing spree?” she gasped. “Did he kill himself? Oh God!”
They all looked at each other again. “Uh, no,” said Angelo.
Frankie stepped forward. “He left this for you,” he said, and pulled out a small box. “He said it was from Deck.”
She took the package from him and opened it. Inside, was an antique pin, a daisy with mother-of-pearl petals and a yellow topaz center. “Wow,” was all she said. There was a note attached, with a very simple message: “Happy Birthday, Amy.” She felt something stick in her throat.
“Don’t write him off, Amy,” said Tony sincerely, surprising Amy and everyone else. “Sure, he’s kind of fucked-up to look at, but he has a beautiful soul.” To Amy’s surprise once again, the guys didn’t laugh at their friend; they all nodded instead. “Everyone knows you can’t fall in love with a body,” Tony continued. “I mean, you can love to be with a body. But you can only love a soul.”
“I see,” said Amy, a faraway look on her face. “Thanks guys,” she said, and ducked inside.
Once in her apartment, Amy made herself a pot of tea and brought it into the living room. She headed over to the curtained wall where the snakes still lived and she pulled back a corner, revealing the place where she kept Heimlich’s trunk. She brought it over to the couch and popped it open, ready to put the dolls back in, but she stopped when she noticed the small locked compartment partially hidden underneath the CDs. She realized she’d never opened it, and the curiosity now overwhelmed her. She ran into the kitchen to grab a butter knife and then went to work at the lock.
After about seven tries, the compartment finally flipped open and there was one thing inside. A simple black-and-white photo. A young man and a small boy laughing on the beach. She had no idea who these people were or what it meant to Heimlich, hidden away in his trunk like this. But, looking at this photo, she somehow knew what she had to do. She picked up the phone and dialed.
“Hi, it’s me,” she said. “Can you tell Ollie that Deck can have the dolls? Just tell Ollie to come and pick up the trunk.”
“You don’t want to try and bring it to Deck yourself?”
“I don’t think I can see him,” she said.
“Okay, I’ll tell him,” Jane said.
Amy now spotted the letter Deck had written to her. She walked over to it, slit open the envelope, and began to read.
18. How Amy Got Reunited with Something Very Special and Rocked the House
Stratton University was established in 1884 as an institute of higher learning, but it had its roots as a much different kind of institution: A sanitarium. From the time the building had gone up in 1816, it had housed the castoffs of pre-Victorian society—the terminally insane as well as an assortment of “Nature’s gaffes,” otherwise known as “freaks.” But with the boom of sideshows in the middle of the century, impresarios began putting a dent in the population of the hospital, instead offering these “gaffes” a profitable way to make a living and gain acceptance, and sometimes reverence in society. Queen Victoria herself was a passionate freak-ophile, inviting her favorites to the palace and bestowing upon them magnificent and opulent gifts.
A decade into the Queen’s reign, having lost most of its population to the sideshow circuit, the institute could no longer sustain itself and closed its doors in 1880. It remained deserted until an entrepreneurially-minded entertainer added the property to his already impressive real estate empire. Charles Sherwood Stratton, more commonly known as Tom Thumb, perhaps the most famous little person who ever lived, bought the building so that people such as him could never be imprisoned within its walls ever again. It remained vacant until his death.
When Stratton passed away in 1883, his widow, Ms. Lavinia Warren, decided the building could be used for a higher purpose, in her mind, higher learning. So Ms. Warren financed an extensive renovation to transform the structure into a university, which she named in honor of her late husband. She also used a fair amount of his money to buy up some of the neighboring buildings and plots of land, confident that her husband’s name attached to the university could conjure the same passionate interest as had her husband during his days as a performer. The university became accredited in 1904, and in the years since, it had grown to become one of the top universities in the area.
Now Amy Miller, Ph.D. candidate, sat on the very stage that had at one time showcased human anomalies in the interest of science, as she prepared to defend the dissertation that had defined her entire academic career. She watched as judges and supporters filed in. Jane and Zoë, dressed today in a for once age-appropriate cheerleader’s costume, waved excitedly from the middle of the room. There they sat among her entire extended family, who had all come to lend their support, including the placard of Amy’s parents, with mortarboard and tassels now stapled to their heads and bearing a sign that read: “Our daughter, the doctor!”
One glaring absence, of course, was Deck. While she was still conflicted and confused about how she felt about him and everything else, especially now having read his letter, she couldn’t help but think about how big a role he had played in all of this. How his faith in her had helped her to finally have faith in herself. His absence became especially palpable when Ollie rushed in just before the doors closed with a giant panda bear, which he presented to Zoë, who shook her pompons and clapped and squealed with delight at the gift.
Amy rubbed her finger up against the daisy pin that she wore against her heart and thought about Deck. She hoped he would show today. If he really cared, as he wrote to her that he did
, surely he would show today. And then, maybe then, she could start to believe in him, believe in them again.
Just before the last of the judges arrived, Lauren and Joshua approached Amy, and Joshua was holding a shopping bag in his hand.
“We’re very proud of you, Amy,” said Lauren and gave her a big hug.
“We always knew you’d make it here someday,” said Joshua. “We have something for you,” he said, pulling a wrapped box out of the shopping bag.
“What’s that?”
“Open it,” said Lauren and she did.
“The shoes?” Amy gasped. “How did you…”
“Long story,” said Joshua.
Amy couldn’t help but smile seeing them again, beautifully restored and polished, their adorable daisy toes seeming to smile up at her. “That’s why daisies,” she said out loud. “Of course.”
“What’s that, dear?” Lauren asked.
“Oh, nothing,” she smiled at Deck’s thoughtful gesture. “Thanks, you guys. This was really thoughtful,” she said. “But these aren’t really magical. Apparently, Zoë made the whole story up.”
“She did?” said Joshua, seeming as disappointed as a kid who learns Elmo is actually a puppet. “But the woman at the store—”
Lauren cut him off. “You think they aren’t magical?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” Amy replied.
“You decide,” she said. “Think about the person you were before you decided you were worth having them. And think about how far you’ve come.”
“That’s a very good point,” said Joshua. “Perhaps there isn’t any shoe voodoo, uh, afoot…”
“Oh, God,” Amy groaned. “Really? Did you really have to go there?”
“Just think about it, Amy,” he said. “Where you are today. What you’re about to do. You never thought any of this was possible before the shoes.”
“We’re not saying it’s the shoes, dear,” said Lauren. “They’re just symbolic, really.”
Amy considered this for a minute.
“It’s about finding yourself, your true self, and who cares how you get there, really? Indulging in a pair of expensive shoes. A night of knock your socks off sex,” Lauren said, and Joshua turned bright red. “It’s all about deciding you’re worth it and letting yourself have it.”
Joshua nodded. “It’s not that they’re magic, Amy. It’s that they remind you that you are.”
Lauren smiled. “So you do get it,” she said to her husband.
“I’m not completely stupid,” he joked, shaking his head at his wife. He looked back at Amy.
“You’re going to do great, sweetie,” Lauren said. “Your parents would have been so proud of you.”
“Thanks, guys,” Amy said, a bittersweet rush running through her.
“Knock ‘em dead,” Joshua said, and he and Lauren headed back to their seats. Amy sat down and slipped on her shoes. She stroked her daisy pin. And she waited to begin.
Within minutes, Professor Ann Bateman entered the room and addressed the group. “Good afternoon,” she said. “We’re assembled here today to hear the defense of Ms. Amy Miller of her dissertation ‘Waste and The Wasteland.’ Everyone please be quiet so we may begin,” she said and sat in the middle of the judges’ table.
“Okay, now,” she said, ruffling through papers. “Dr. Heimlich is no longer with us. And it seems Drs. Hayes and Thomas have both stepped down over personal reasons, both claiming,” she read, and then looked up at Amy, “romantic conflicts with the defendant?” Amy smiled meekly and looked away. “And it seems Dr. French has, well, vanished,” she looked again at Amy. “You, again?”
“No,” she mouthed.
“Very well,” Dr. Bateman said. “So we’ll convene with our skeleton crew of myself and Drs. Baron, Nellen, and McGoey, and standing in for our jilted romeos, Drs. Mayer and Mullen. Ms. Miller. Whenever you’re ready.”
Amy scanned the room one last time looking for Deck, but he was nowhere to be found. So he was lost to her now. He was gone and she couldn’t help but shake the creepy feeling that he’d found someone. Someone else. At least now she knew what he really was. That he was just an awkward vessel for beautiful, empty words, none of which he was true to. A man of letters and words and no action to back them up. A man with no real proof for her that what he said he felt for her was real. Her heart would surely have dropped if it hadn’t been beating so fast as she stood and walked to the lectern. Now she shook off her disappointment, straightened out her notes, cleared her throat, and began.
19. How All the Pieces Came Together in an Italian Restaurant in Flushing, Queens
It was a popular misconception that Don Corleone’s restaurant was and continues to be a popular mob hangout, when it was simply a basic Southern Italian restaurant located in Eastern Queens, New York. It was decorated with plastic grapes on plastic vines and complete with trompe l’oeil murals on every wall of famous spots in Italy, from the Leaning Tower of Pisa to the Coliseum to the Amalfi Coast. Really, just your average Queens Italian eatery. Except that it had received a certain level of unplanned notoriety for its name.
Anyone not familiar with the history of the restaurant might be led to believe that it was named to capitalize on the international success of The Godfather. But, in actuality, the restaurant was today owned by a guy named Frank Corleone, who was the grandson of the original owner, who was named, if you can’t already guess, Donald—or “Don” as his friends knew him.
Don Corleone’s opened its doors in 1958 and enjoyed modest success, serving basic Italian food to a local following, who were essentially all Italian immigrants desperate for a taste of home. But when The Godfather movies came out in the 1970s, Don Corleone’s, at least for a while, had become more an amusement park attraction, a mob-hungry tourist magnet, than the simple eatery of its intention.
Thanks to the sheen wearing off the mafia in the past decade, Don Corleone’s had gone back to being a neighborhood joint. Except for a short while when The Sopranos first came out. But an enterprising rival restaurateur opened Fat Boss Tony’s across the street, where the tourists now flooded.
The grandson of the current owner, also Francis, happened to be one of Amy’s Building Boys, which is why on this day of celebration, a different kind of family was seated in the back party room of Don Corleone’s. A mismatched assortment of misfits assembled for the celebration luncheon thrown for their fostered foundling, Amy Miller, who had, that very morning, dazzled the faculty panel ready to pick apart her dissertation, giving more than a few of them something to think about and debate about for semesters to come.
“I have to admit, Amy—I read your dissertation all those years ago, and I really thought you did a fine job in explaining just what Eliot was talking about,” said Joshua, spitting out an olive pit. “But today, well, you really made it pop.”
“And that it could be funny,” said Enid, buttering a piece of bread and placing it on Grant’s plate.
“That was surprising,” said Grant, who dutifully picked up his bread and took a bite. “Surprising, indeed.”
Amy smiled. “It was not my original thinking, no. But it seems to be what tied everything up in the end.”
“Well, I’m still not sure I understand any of it, but I like what you said,” said Morty, grabbing one of the loaves of bread from the middle of the table, tearing it in two, and taking the larger hunk for himself.
“I know I will never fully understand it,” Lauren agreed. “But it definitely makes more sense to me now.”
“It’s true, sweetie,” said Jane. “You have a real gift.”
“Speaking of gift,” said Zoë, nudging her mama.
“Oh, right,” Jane reached into her purse and pulled out a box. In the box was a pen. And engraved onto the pen was a simple, poignant message: “Dr. Miller.”
>
Amy started to cry. “Thanks, guys,” she said. “Thanks for all your encouragement and support. You really got me through it. All of you. I wouldn’t be here today without you guys.”
And while a cacophony of “No, really, it was you,” clamored back and forth in the room, a commotion in the front of the restaurant silenced everyone. A familiar shriek carried all the way back to where they were sitting, a request to the maître d’ to “Let me back there!” Perhaps this was expected. It certainly wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibilities that Hannah had now returned from her expedition, found out about the party and decided she was supposed to be here.
Not expected, however, was the deep baritone of a man’s voice that followed, bellowing an urgent plea to “Get back to that room!” Amy took a quick glance at Ollie, and Ollie quickly looked the other way. She panicked as the door to the party room flew open and there stood Deck. With Hannah. They were both still dressed in expedition khakis, and both were panting and sweating and beaming like idiots. Deck, especially, seemed worse for the wear, somehow now bright red and covered in what looked to be hives.
“What are you doing here?” Amy asked, looking back and forth between them. “And why are you together?”
“And why do you look so happy?” Jane was quick to add.
“And what are you wearing?” asked Zoë, who had crept up behind her mother and halfway hid herself behind the folds of Jane’s elegant tea length black silk skirt.
Hannah and Deck smiled big at each other, and Amy immediately thought the worst. “Oh, no. Not this. Not you two. Don’t even tell me this because I can’t handle—”
“You tell her,” Deck told Hannah, giving her an affectionate tap on the arm.
“Are you sure?” Hannah asked.
“This is your show,” he said.
“Well, only in part. Really it was—”
“Go ahead,” he nodded.
“Alrighty, then,” Hannah said and looked around. “So, how is everyone doing today?” she asked.
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