by Tonya Kappes
Prudence and Wilson laughing at Georgia, who’s practically holding her nose. Does he smell the horseshit, or the shit smell coming from him?
Aunt Grace is wearing her Sunday finest, looking like a flapper in her beaded black strap dress with fringe hanging off the bottom, and lots of black beads around her neck. Her short hair, in waves around the crown, is pinned back.
I can tell by the expression on her face she hasn’t been out in a long time. She acts like a child, sitting in the front seat with her hands carefully crossed and trying to be on her best behavior.
Uncle Jimmy is a different story. He’s wearing the same dirty jeans and ratty sweatshirt he’s worn every day I’ve known him.
“Jimmy, you got any good tips?” Wilson asks, half in amusement and half-serious.
“Yeah, don’t step in dog crap.” When he laughs, his mouth opens so wide you can see his rotted teeth.
“What are you laughing at?” I watch Georgia giggle with her hands around her belly to keep it steady.
“I didn’t realize I’m laughing out loud.” She rolls her eyes in disgust, leans forward and whispers to me. “Don’t you ever and I mean ever, let Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy watch my baby.”
“Queen City Oaks Day.” Uncle Jimmy looks at Wilson. “My tip, bet on the Queen City Oaks $100,000 stakes race.”
Jimmy hops out of the car before I can get it in park. “Hallie, you need a new car.”
“Uncle Jimmy, this isn’t my car. You’ve seen my Solara.”
“It’s my SUV.” Wilson confirms. He let us use his car because all of us couldn’t fit in mine.
“I don’t know what SUV is, but you need a new car.” Jimmy pokes Wilson’s chest with his index finger.
I give Wilson the wonky eye. Uncle Jimmy is already on Wilson’s nerves. He doesn’t know when to stop.
“Listen here, old man,” Wilson calmly bends over in Uncle Jimmy’s face, “don’t go around poking people.” Wilson pokes him back, causing Uncle Jimmy to curl his shoulders. “Especially people who are bigger than you.”
Uncle Jimmy steps back and walks around Wilson towards the track. “You need better friends,” Jimmy says to me. “Didn’t you learn anything from me and your aunt?” If I remember correctly, he was never around when Aunt Grace was raising me. He only showed up when he needed money for a drinking binge.
But I say nothing, and I place my hand on Wilson’s chest to stop him from confronting Uncle Jimmy.
“He’s crazy.” I beg, “Please let it slide.”
I’m so embarrassed. All my friends hear all my stories about Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy, but have never experienced them firsthand. Except Lucy, and she’s not even here to help me out.
“Yeah, no big deal.” Prudence tippy-toes up and kisses Wilson on his clinched jaw, which makes his anger go away.
Once we get through the crowd, and stand near the rail, we all look at each other. We have no clue what we are doing. Everyone scans the day’s racing program speculating what all the numbers mean.
Uncle Jimmy is spotting off different theories, and in a small way, I really do believe he knows what he is doing.
The stake race is next and that’s what everyone seems to be here for—including Uncle Jimmy. Aunt Grace is enjoying a mint julep on a near bench and twirling her beads as if there is nothing more she’d rather be doing.
“I’ve got my horse.” Georgia pats her belly. “Baby jumped when I read the name. So I know it’s going to win.” She points to a horse named Paddington Kiss and Tell.
“He’s 20-to-1 odds, Georgia.” Wilson points out.
“And?” Georgia points to the belly, and does her best Patrick Swayze voice Dirty Dancing. “What baby wants, baby gets.”
“Okay, Paddington Kiss and Tell it is.” Wilson takes his money out of his wallet. We decide to put all our money on one bet, for a total of one hundred dollars.
“Big race.”Uncle Jimmy watches Wilson collect our money. “Who ya bettin’ on?”
“We’re going to combine and bet on Paddington Kiss and Tell.” I show the name to him, knowing he can’t read.
“20-to-1?” He scoffs. “You gonna lose. Let me go place it for you.”.
“Sure. The last thing I want to do is stand in that line.” Wilson hands the money to Uncle Jimmy.
My stomach did a turn that I can’t explain.
With a giddy-up in his step, Uncle Jimmy is in his element. He’s going to put our money to win on Paddington and his money on First Class Conception, the favorite.
“Maybe you should go with him.” I suggest to Wilson.
“Crazy old man will be fine.”
Uncle Jimmy skips all the way to the window, there’s a tug of regret in my soul. He turns around once he places the bet and shakes the ticket towards me.
Thank God he did it.
Excitement builds in the air. Even Georgia said the baby is kicking and moving around with all the energy.
I bend down and talk to Georgia’s belly. “Listen, baby, win this bet and we’ll get along just fine.”
Everyone hangs on the rail to root on their horses. Paddington isn’t anywhere to be seen on the tote board. Of course, First Class Conception is first.
“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!” Prudence jumps up and down pointing to the board. “Paddington Kiss and Tell is coming up!” She screams pumping both fists in the air.
Paddington’s name is in third just behind First Class. It’s like a screaming competition.
Uncle Jimmy is screaming, “Run First Class.”
We’re screaming, “Go Paddington!”
They’re neck and neck running down the straightaway, ending in a photo finish. The tote board reads: “Win-Paddington Kiss and Tell.” That’s all we see. Taking each other’s hand, we begin to celebrate after realizing the amount of money we just won.
“Forty-two hundred dollars!” I scream.
Lady luck has definitely been on my side since coming back to Cincinnati. My life seems to be turning for the better. About time.
“Dinner’s on me!” Wilson picks up Prudence and swings her around. “The Precinct. Only the fanciest restaurant in Cincinnati.”
“Ya hear that, Gracie?” Uncle Jimmy is practically screaming at Aunt Grace. He points over to Wilson. “Dinner on him tonight.”
Aunt Grace smiles and nods. She has no idea what he said, the crowd is loud and still cheering from the big upset.
“Well,” says Wilson, who clearly didn’t mean to include Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Grace. “I guess you can come if you don’t poke anyone.”
“Where’s our ticket, Uncle Jimmy?” I put my hand out. I can feel the money already in my palm.
“What ticket?” He questions me like I’m the stupid one.
“Our winning ticket.” I start to panic and lay out my empty hand in front of him.
“I didn’t like your bet, so I put my money with yours on First Class.” He pulls his hands out of his pockets, letting the lining hang out and lint fall off. “See. Nothing.”
I grab Prudence before she launches a fist toward Uncle Jimmy. I know I can’t change what happened, but I can save Uncle Jimmy even though I don’t want to.
Wilson remains on the ground, with his face buried in his hands. If I didn’t know better, he looks like he is crying. Aunt Grace sits on the bench, smiling like everything is okay. Something tells me to forgive Jimmy and get out of here.
Georgia goes to the bathroom either to pee or throw up. I’m trying to calm Prudence down with little help from Wilson who continues to sulk.
“Do you know what you could’ve done with the money we just lost? Your business.” Prudence pleads with me to yell at Uncle Jimmy.
“There’s nothing we can do now. We have to,” I say, but stop to see what all the commotion is about.
The ohh’s and ahh’s of the crowd are for Uncle Jimmy who’s shimming up the flag pole and planting the longest kiss on the bald eagle’s nose.
“See Wilson!” He hangs off the top like a
proud monkey. “I told you I could kiss that eagle’s nose.”
I turn to Wilson. “What’s going on?” And then back to Uncle Jimmy, who swinging around the top putting on a full show. There is no forgiving now.
“Told you I could kiss the eagle on the nose.” Jimmy shouts and puckers up. “You owe me ten dollars.”
“Crazy fool.” Wilson says, but he looks like he’s getting some pleasure from Uncle Jimmy creating a bigger fool of himself.
“Get down, Uncle Jimmy!” I scream and point to the ground. I am so mad that I’m dizzy from my blood pressure taking a leap. “I said, now!”
“Sir, you need to come down now.” A nearby police officer yells through his megaphone.
Once we have Uncle Jimmy down, I rush everyone to the car. We ride in silence even after we drop Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy off.
When we get home, I let Henry out. Georgia goes upstairs to go to bed because she has a headache. Prudence walks down to the basement. The back door opens and shuts behind me. It’s Wilson.
“I want to apologize.” Wilson’s voice is almost silent. “Your uncle…”
“Wilson!” Prudence shouts.
“Err…I want to apologize.” He’s going to try it one more time. “I shouldn’t have given your uncle the money. It’s my fault we lost.” The door closes.
I don’t feel like talking about it.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Wow. You look like crap.” Addy’s opens the doors just as I run up.
I make sure I get out of the house before everyone gets up. I can’t sleep in. Plus, I’m still upset about what Uncle Jimmy did at the track.
“You would too if you had my life.” I point to a coffee cup to signal my need for fuel.
Addy pours the coffee, and I tell her my story. The story that has become my identity or what I have let become my identity. I start from the moment my parents died to Uncle Jimmy climbing the flagpole.
“Stop! Stop or I am going to pee myself.” Addy’s hand is on her stomach to stop her laughing pains. I’m glad Uncle Jimmy is entertaining to her. “Only this would happen to you. I know, instead of Murphy’s Law, we can call it Hallie’s Law.”
I snort because it sounds so unreal. And if it didn’t happen to me, I don’t think I would believe it.
Addy makes me a to-go cup so I can make it back in time to get ready for the photo shoot, and see my friends go back to Chicago.
They are packed and ready to go when I get back. Prudence is going to hitch a ride with Georgia and the film crew after the shoot. Yesterday’s events go unmentioned. I think all of us want to put it behind us.
Fountain Square is buzzing with people. The models look great in the clothes, Gucci looks fantastic, but the jewelry adds the sparkle that the camera needs.
I take more samples, just in case the sizes aren’t right, and the models and some crew members buy my bracelets on the spot. This is going to leave me in a mad rush to remake almost all the samples I need for my secret trip to Chicago next weekend.
It’s actually a blessing in disguise. I need a stress reliever and beading more will help me. That, and a stiff drink.
And boy, do I need to get out of this city. Or at least a good distance from Aunt Grace and Uncle Jimmy.
“Your jewelry is a hit.” Georgia goes over how to spell Beadnicks and how to describe each piece in order for the magazine write-up. “You know, once this hits shelves in two months, everyone is going to want your designs. Are you ready for this?”
I know she is trying to tell me to get my act together and come up with a marketing plan within the next two months. “Don’t worry,” I tell her. “I have a few ideas I’m batting around.”
I want to keep my plan in my head until I talk with Monk and a few of the boutiques back home.
The crew didn’t waste any time packing up, and we said our goodbyes. I still keep my surprise weekend visit, next weekend, a secret.
Wilson went back to his apartment when we got home. And I worked on more bracelets. I open the basement door knowing Henry is downstairs.
“Henry?” I hear paws running up before I finish his name.
I smile at that cute poodle bounding up the steps. I never would’ve thought I could feel this way about a dog. Not looking up, the shadow on the steps wants to be acknowledged, too. “I am sorry.” Wilson looks up. He chokes back the tears. “And I miss Prudence.”
I stand at the top with Henry in my arms.
“Want a drink?” I feel bad for him. I know exactly what he’s going through. He looks like a whipped puppy.
“Yes.” He schleps up the steps. “I can’t believe I’ve fallen this hard for a girl.” He takes a couple of beers out of the refrigerator, and hands me one. “I’ve been a bachelor all my life. I’ve dated a lot of women and none of them hooked me like Prudy.” He takes a big swig, leaving a fizzing sound behind.
“Can you survive a week?” I can’t believe I’m going to tell him my plans. I might as well ask him to come along. What if the car died? Then someone will stop to help, but really kill me. See, a win-win situation.
“Why?” His eyes narrow in curiosity.
“I’m going to Chicago next weekend for business and a surprise visit.” I forgive him for betting Uncle Jimmy and daring him to climb the flagpole. “You big baby.” I hold my bottle in the air and he cheers me.
I don’t know if it is my conversation with Wilson that gives me the muse to make a hundred more bracelets or the sight of a lovesick man, or the strong vodka, but I continue to bead as he talks about his future and how Prudence fits into it.
I string every bead I have. And I love every bracelet I make. Before bed, I put together a new bead order. I’ll drop it off at One Bead at a Time during my morning run.
As I get ready for bed, I take the Sunday shirt out of the drawer and pull it over my head. I close my eyes tight and I inhale Bo’s scent into every crevice of my soul. I take another deep breath in delight because I know in five days I’ll be able to see him. This weekend isn’t going to come soon enough.
Week Seven
So many beads…so little time.
Author Unknown
Chapter Thirty-Five
Staying up late thinking about Bo, and beading, makes for a difficult Monday morning. Especially since I dropped off bracelets to Dee before work.
I rest my head on the desk. I have to pull it together for my conference call with the managers and big wigs of Gucci.
“Do you have everything you need?” Beatrice fills my cup. “Can you make a move to let me know you are okay?”
I wave a few fingers in the air without lifting my head up to acknowledge her existence.
“You have your conference call in five minutes. I’ll buzz you when it’s time.”
I wave again without lifting my wrist and keeping my body still.
She puts the mail on the edge of my desk.
I straighten myself up and push the button when it buzzes.
“Hallie from Cincinnati boutique.” I bring my chipper voice up from the bottom of my stomach. Thank God the conference calls aren’t Skyped. I’m in no shape to be seen.
Beatrice takes a seat with her pad out ready to take notes.
“Hallie!” I would know Piper’s voice from anywhere.
The sound of her voice sends spin numbing shivers up my back.
“Good morning, Piper.” I might look tired, but my voice doesn’t reflect it.
“You know, we should v-log about your boutique opening.” The excitement in her voice escalates. “Everyone is raving about what a fabulous job you have done.”
V-log? “What in the hell is a v-log?” I put my finger over the microphone and whisper to Beatrice. She scribbles, video log.
Of course, v-log. Doesn’t everyone know what a v-log is? “Are you kidding me?” I throw my pen in the air and mouth to a smiling Beatrice.
“I appreciate your interest, Piper, but I don’t have time to video tape all of my actions or the actions of
employees.”
Of course I don’t have time. Any time I have, I want to bead.
“I understand that, but it will be helpful for the future of the company to be able to go into each project strong right from the beginning.”
I’m flabbergasted by her comment. Flattery will get her nowhere. Beatrice writes something down and holds it up. Frenemy.
“What?” I ask.
She reaches over and put the phone on mute. “She’s your frenemy. She pretends to be your friend, but she’s really your enemy.”
I sit back in my chair and ponder this frenemy thing.
“You know, the old saying: Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” Beatrice reminds me.
I haven’t seen Beatrice in battle and I like it. I was worried about how thick her skin is, and what’ll happen when I leave in five weeks.
Five weeks left. Just thinking about the five weeks, gives me the boost of energy I need to finish this call.
“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Piper, but since it’s your idea…” I pause to get the words out correctly. I know my Michigan Avenue store sales are down, and it’s my time to stick it to her, “I think you should v-log about your store and all the good things you are doing since I’ve been gone.”
I’m amused at her stammer, “I, I…”
“I left you with an established store. Not only established with awesome associates and faithful customers, but also during the busiest season.” I have no problem reminding her about the shape the store was in before she gave me the boot.
Michigan Avenue boutique always brings in big numbers during the summer time.
“Good morning, ladies.” The mysterious voice, who I refer to Charlie, as in Charlie’s Angels, booms through the phone. “First, I want to ask Hallie how the weekend photo shot went with Fit Pregnancy Magazine.”
It’s just another jab at Piper, and a feather in my cap, as I talk about how gorgeous the day was and how the background made the clothes pop.
“How on earth are we going to replace you in less than five weeks?” Charlie asks.