Shape Of My Heart

by Khardine Gray

  “So, what are you? You don’t look like a maid,” Gabriella asked.

  “I’m supposed to be his PA.”

  “Well welcome to Cyranose. This is where the help and the non-stuffy PAs hang out and bitch about their employers.” They both giggled.

  Amy liked the sound of that, because she was definitely needing to bitch right now.

  “You look like you’re about to blow up,” Hilda offered. “This is a safe place where you can say anything and it stays here. Like Vegas. What happens here really does stay here. So, don’t worry about anyone finding out.”

  “That’s good to know. For what little time I hope to be here.”

  “Was it that bad?”

  “This morning, just as the Mancini Machine was throwing me out of his house, a supersized rat ran over my foot and I fainted.”

  They both burst out laughing.

  “A rat?” Gabriella asked.

  Amy nodded. “I hate rats.”

  “We don’t have rats, but there’s secrets and all sorts that I have to balance. I’m the head maid at the Hamptons, and I’m grateful for every day I survive in that place.”

  “I’m trying to secure a modeling contract. Until then I’m a maid, too, who’s looking for work,” Hilda added with a sigh. “My employer’s husband died.”

  “Didn’t she still need you?”

  “Nope, she became a he and ran off with the next door neighbor’s daughter.”

  Amy widened her eyes. “What?”

  Hilda smiled. “Oh yes, chica, there’s a lot of that that goes on here.”

  “That’s the mild stuff, too,” Gabriella cut in.

  “Mild?” Amy raised her brows.

  They both nodded and exchanged conspiratory smiles.

  “Mild indeed. The biggest scandal now is that we think Mrs. Campbell is planning to kill husband number fifteen so she can get her hands on husband sixteen and keep husband fifteen’s fortune. There’s no way all her fourteen husbands could have mysteriously died of a heart attack. Particularly because they were all under the age of forty. She’s sixty-five.”

  “Really?” Amy rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward with keen interest as they nodded.

  “While we wait for that story to unfold, we’re casting bets on how soon Mr. Fox will get caught for embezzling money from the children’s hospice, to pay for his wife’s new boobs.”

  Amy was laughing now.

  “So, what else did Josh Mancini do?” Gabriella asked. “We understand the rats, but something else must have turned you away.”

  Amy reached into her pocket and handed her the list Josh wrote. Hilda moved over so she could read too. They started to laugh again and Amy sighed.

  It was funny if you were on the outside looking in.

  “There’s no way he was being serious,” Hilda stated, shaking her head.

  “Yes, he was.” Amy saw that he was absolutely serious.

  “Oh my God. Dias Miós, everything on here is ridiculous. I’m guessing his plastic friends require this.”

  “Plastic friends?” Amy giggled.

  “Yes, the two skanks he’s always with.”

  That was another story entirely. “They’re practically glued to him,” she stated.

  “We’ve seen them.”

  “Do you live nearby?”

  Amy shook her head. “Downtown L.A.”

  “Chica,” Gabriella grimaced and shook her head. “That’s a bit rough for a girl like you. How long have you lived there?”

  “Just the last week and two days. I used to live in New York, but I’m from Atlanta. I’m a fashion designer.”

  They both looked interested to hear that, and as Amy continued talking their interest grew. She told them about her application to Dior and all that she’d done so far. That led to explaining about her mother’s illness and why she was here.

  They all talked for hours and even had dinner. Amy got to know a lot about them and found their acquaintance quite refreshing. She learned that Gabriella was from Colombia and Hilda from Puerto Rico. They’d come to the States when they were young but tried to go back to visit their families every year. Since Amy would give anything to go to either of those two amazing countries she enjoyed hearing about the wondrous things you could see there.

  They talked until it got dark and agreed to meet for lunch the next day if Amy was still here. They made her feel better and she thought whether she was still working for Josh or not she’d come for the lunch invite.

  As she made her way back to her dank apartment she checked her messages to see if the consultant had gotten back to her. He did, stating that he’d call her tomorrow morning after his morning clinic, which finished at eleven.

  Fingers crossed she could find a way out of this mess and still fix things. She wondered how mad Josh was when she didn’t come back with his stupid items. She didn’t care. If she didn’t see him again it would be the best thing that ever happened to her.

  And those women that hung with him. Gabriella told her that he paid for the brunette to get implants and the other one, Hilda called the dumb one, had collagen fillers.

  It was all so extravagant.

  Chapter 5

  Josh strayed into one of those dreams again.

  It always happened in the space between asleep and awake where his mind would take over and drift to happier thoughts. That was where he saw them. This was where his mother and Clarissa existed for him. Here they were alive and they still loved him.

  Josh had them in his life again and he never wanted to wake up…

  “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” his mother said, leaning into his shoulder as they sat side by side in the grand theatre. His father sat next to his mother and looked at Clarissa with the deepest pride.

  Josh nodded, not wanting to take his eyes off Clarissa’s performance. Not even for one second. Amazing was too meager a word to describe her as he watched her glide across the stage as Odette, the Swan Princess. She was the star of the show, the prima ballerina, and a star she was indeed. Josh was used to his sister giving her best, but when she did performances like this it was more than her best that came out. She danced with soul and talent comparable to an angel.

  He didn’t even lie like he used to anymore when he had to explain to his friends that he was going to the ballet. He was so proud of her that he just told them straight that that was where he would be.

  He watched her, getting absorbed in the music, the mood, the atmosphere. Like always, when the performance ended his skin tingled. His parents were crying and stood up to cheer with everyone else. The cheers and applause were deafening, euphoric and joyous. Josh stood too. Clarissa and the cast truly deserved the grand-standing ovation. He’d never experienced the blissful exhilaration he felt anywhere besides here.

  He had flowers for her. She loved oriental lilies, pink oriental lilies. They were her favorites.

  He looked at his mother as she reached out to cup his face with one hand. Her smile proud and brimming with love. While Josh had his father’s strong Italian features, Clarissa looked exactly like their mother. Same jet black hair that hung in soft waves, same mole on the left cheek. Same hazel-colored eyes.

  Josh leaned forward to hug his mother, anticipating the warmth he’d feel when he touched her, but in that second everything changed. It was like his body shifted out of time and instead of being at the theatre he was at the gravesite, in the cemetery in California.

  He recognized this.

  This part wasn’t a dream. It was a memory. This was the memory of his mother and sister’s funeral.

  His father was on his knees crying, completely inconsolable while Josh’s uncle tried to comfort him. Josh stood over by his sister’s coffin, staring at her cold dead body. The oriental lilies in his hand hung by his side as he tried to work out what had happened and if this was real. She still looked so beautiful.

  In this part of this whatever it was that was a dream, his mind ran wild and made him visualize the
accident. The head-on collision that claimed their lives.

  Then screaming…

  Josh jumped up. Cold sweat ran down his face and neck. His back was wet with it as well.

  His heart was pounding so much he had to put his hand at his chest and take several deep breaths until he calmed. He looked around his room and felt relieved that Allegra and Cindy weren’t there. He wanted to be alone, to put a rein on his damaged mind and painful memories.

  His dreams were getting worse and taking on an eerie edge that pulled him into dark memories that weakened him. Perhaps it was the effects of having too much alcohol.

  This wasn’t getting any easier, and he was growing weary of waking up and feeling like this. This guilty self-reproach that reminded him that it was his fault why his mother and sister were dead.

  Last year this time they were alive. They were both alive and living their lives. He’d gotten all worked up because Pete, his sister’s longtime boyfriend, had proposed to her. Clarissa was going to accept because she was in love. Josh acted all high and mighty with poor Pete, calling in his big brother cards, giving the poor guy a full-on interview before he would give his blessing. His mother and father told him off, chastising him for being such a jerk. His mother said he should take a leaf from Clarissa‘s book and tame his wild ways. It was a running family argument for weeks.

  His mother was a charity worker who was always doing some service project at every chance she got. She came from a poor family and had a difficult upbringing so that was her way of helping people. She always told Josh her stories and called her meeting his father her happily ever after. He used to laugh at her because people didn’t speak like that in real life, and he thought his mother lived in a world of her own. She and Clarissa both did.

  The week before the first game they went to help out at a soup kitchen event in Missouri. To catch the game they were supposed to leave the night before but the storms made it dangerous to travel. Josh with his arrogance, selfishness, and ignorance didn’t think that anything could happen to them. After all, why would God let something happen to two of his angels? Especially if they were doing charity work. So when he spoke to his mother he practically demanded that they come to the game.

  “We’re opening up the season, Mom, it’s not exactly little league. Just drive carefully.” That was what he said. That was what he had said to her.

  He didn’t stop and think that this was a woman who’d gone to every single game he’d ever played. Right from his first when he was five and could hardly throw a ball, to the Super Bowl that closed off the last season. She’d been there, and if she thought there was a chance she’d miss one he should have understood. It should have been no problem whatsoever.

  But no, Josh wouldn’t hear of it. He was the Mancini Machine and it was a must to have his whole family there. The press would be there taking pictures and he wanted them all there so he would look good.

  When he didn’t see them at half time he had the audacity to be angry. He remembered thinking this was the game of his life and they were missing it. How dare they miss it?

  And as Josh tackled the defense for the Bears and shot the ball to Gage, he knew they’d win hands down. Nobody was faster than Gage.

  As the crowd cheered when Gage scored the winning touchdown, Josh looked to where his father had been sitting and saw the empty seats. It was only then that he realized something must have been wrong. Only then.

  He couldn’t even cheer with his team. Josh walked off the field to find his father sobbing with devastation and his face grief stricken. The poor man couldn’t even talk. It was Zelda that had to break the news of what happened to Josh. He could still hear her voice now. The sadness in the tone and the tears that filled her eyes. He could still hear his heart break and shatter. The news ripped away his soul and everything strong that was in him. It ripped his world from under his feet and he hadn’t been able to function since.

  The doorbell rang, bringing him out of his memories. He wondered who that was. He wasn’t in the mood for visitors and actually noticed that his little PA hadn’t bothered to come back yesterday. He glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was nearly twelve. She’d been coming in at nine and he hadn’t heard her, so he was guessing this meant she’d quit.

  Good. She didn’t need to be here, he didn’t need her, and now he could tell Zelda that he wanted to do things his way.

  The bell rang again, but this time with insistence. Josh got up to answer it because there was only one person who rang the bell like that.

  Corey stood on the porch with his hands in his pockets and a silly lopsided grin on his face.

  “Hey.” Josh offered a small smile.

  “Hey yourself.”

  Josh stepped aside so Corey could come in, then he closed the door.

  “Is Allegra and friend here?” Corey asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Good.” He actually sighed with relief.

  They went into the living room and sat down. Josh laid back on the larger sofa and placed his hands behind his head. Corey always came by at some point in the week for a pep talk, he just hadn’t expected him so soon as he’d only seen him on Monday. Josh rolled his head to the side, gearing up to hear it.

  Corey sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

  “Okay talk.”

  “You’re sober,” Corey noted.

  “Yes, until you leave.”

  “Josh…” Here we go. “You can’t continue like this, man.”

  Yup. That was how their conversation always began. Every single week.

  “I’m fine.” Josh grabbed a stress ball and started tossing it up and down.

  “You aren’t fine. You have problems, man, and one day soon it’s going to catch up with you.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “But you do.”

  “Why do I care, Corey? Tell me what is there to care about?”

  Corey frowned. “Josh, you’re acting like you don’t have friends or family.”

  “I don’t have a family. They’re dead.”

  “You have a father, and he’s done nothing wrong.”

  As far as he was concerned everyone was dead. He couldn’t face his father. Every time the thought crossed his mind he remembered how inconsolable he was as he cried by the gravesite.

  Josh could never see him again. Not ever.

  “I can’t see him, okay.”

  “No, it isn’t okay. You’re living on drink and women.” He lowered his brows and grimaced.

  Josh looked over at him and smiled. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “A drink here and there and a good woman is no problem.”

  “What the hell do you mean by a good woman? They’re all good.” That philosophy was one he always had. He knew what Corey meant, but Josh loved women too much to be with just one. He didn’t understand why anyone would do that and preferred the freedom to be with anyone he chose, one or two at a time.

  “Josh, things have to change.” Corey glossed over the question because he knew the debate that would follow.

  “Things are fine the way they are.”

  “Do you want to play football again, Josh?”

  That was the question of the hour, of the day, of his life right now. Hadn’t he always wanted to play football? He dropped the stress ball and watched it roll across the wooden floor.

  “Josh.” Corey said his name more insistently.

  Josh looked up at him at the same time that he heard the door open.

  Again, that could only be one person. Only one person had the keys to his house. His blonde-haired and green-eyed PA walked in carrying a big bag. She came into the room, cut a quick glance at Corey, then stood in front of Josh eyeing him with some serious daggers.

  “Here is your order, sir.” She reached into the bag and, to his surprise, pulled out all the condoms that were attached together and dropped them into his lap. There were at least a hundred. One hundred extra-small condoms. He didn’t eve
n know they made them that small.

  Then she took out a bottle of hot sauce and said, “Lubricant,” and followed it up with a multipack of root beer with cartoon characters all over the package.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but she stormed out of the room and made her way to the office. Corey burst out laughing, and laughed even harder when he saw everything properly. The extra-small condoms, the hot sauce, and the damn kids drink.

  “Jesus H,” Josh cursed.

  “Oh Lord. Who was that?” Corey asked, his Texan accent became more pronounced when he got excited.

  “This isn’t funny, Corey. Why are you even laughing? This is what Zelda sent me.”

  “That’s your new PA?”

  Josh rolled his eyes. “Looks that way.” So she was back.

  “She’s hot.”

  “I noticed. It’s a trick of that damn Zelda. She thinks if I have a beautiful PA it’ll make me do what she wants.”

  “Is it working?”

  He gave Corey an askance look. “Working? Please.”

  “You should give her a chance.” The seriousness returned to Corey’s face. Josh pushed the condoms off him and sat up properly.

  “A chance for what? I can manage to do what I need myself.”

  Corey shook his head. “No, none of us can do everything ourselves. That’s why we each have PAs, and you need yours more than the rest of us. You should be grateful that you got the beautiful one.”

  Josh sighed with frustration. “I don’t need anybody. I just…” He looked away and gazed at the display of seashells over in the corner on the shelf. Clarissa gave him those when she was about five. He’d taken care of them over the years and planned to have one of them polished and made into a necklace for her. He’d never get the chance to now.

  “Josh.” Corey’s voice returned his focus to him. “This is me. I’m you’re oldest friend. We grew up together, bro, and we’ve been through life together. Talk to me.”

  Josh didn’t know if he could talk to anyone. He didn’t know if it was wise to start.

  “I don’t know if I can play football anymore,” he told him, and just saying the words pained him to his soul. Surely if it felt that bad, it meant not playing wasn’t the answer either.