by Elise Sax
The third firework set off all of the other fireworks in the car. That’s when the car exploded.
“Say I do! Say I do!” the mayor urged.
“What?” Fred and Julie yelled back.
“Say I do!” I screamed into their ears.
They said, “I do” just in time. A second later, the BMW’s fireworks had found the fireworks on the float in the middle of the lake, and then Armageddon turned into the apocalypse.
“Run, Pinky!” Spencer yelled and grabbed me.
“Help Grandma!” I ordered in my new authoritarian voice. We ran as fast as my grandmother’s legs could take her. But like Lot’s wife, I couldn’t help but look back to see the horror.
But there was no horror. Nobody was running for their lives. They were standing in place, watching the fireworks chaos. I stopped running and so did Grandma and Spencer.
“What the hell?” Spencer said. “What a crazy-ass town.”
I guessed that Cannes had been through so many disasters that a few wild fireworks wasn’t going to scare anybody. The picnickers watched the show finish, and then they packed up to go, as if it was just another July Fourth Founders Day.
Fred and Julie walked to their car hand in hand, euphoric and totally in love. As my grandmother would say, a good time was had by all. I gave my congratulations to them as they left. I had completed a match that ended in marriage and true love, and at that moment I felt completely satisfied, like my life had meaning after all.
I adjusted my dictator hat on my head and saw Fanta and Matilda walking nearby. I got an idea. I told my grandmother to keep Fanta busy for a while so that I could sneak Matilda away.
“Ruth, you help Grandma and drive her home.” It was my new authoritarian voice, again. I guessed that the clothes really did make the woman. I was becoming a dictator. Ruth didn’t like being dictated to, though. She was about to argue with me, probably to tell me that she didn’t want to be involved in any of my cockamamie plans, but one look from my grandmother made her change her mind. Ruth had a loud bark, but she and my grandmother went way back. Even though Ruth complained about Grandma, she obviously respected and listened to her.
Spencer was busy as chief of police in the aftermath of the fireworks debacle. He was going to be busy for a while, so I had time to do what I thought I needed to do with Matilda. My grandmother got to work, quickly, distracting Fanta with her memories of fireworks on VE Day. As soon as my grandmother had distracted Fanta, I took Matilda’s hand, and we ran to her car.
Matilda didn’t seem surprised that I had stolen her away from Fanta. Instead, she looked relieved. We got in her Nissan Altima, and she started it up.
“Where’re we going?” Matilda asked. “Scratch that. I know where we’re going.”
Aside from her education, her perfectionism, and her OCD, Matilda and I were exactly the same. We also seemed to read each other’s minds, and we were always on the same page.
It didn’t take long to arrive at Matilda’s apartment complex. “How are we going to get into Fanta’s apartment?” Matilda asked me.
“Don’t worry. That’s one of my skillsets.”
It took me seconds to unlock Fanta’s apartment. We walked inside and turned on our phone lights in order to see. I didn’t know why I felt like we needed to snoop in Fanta’s apartment, but something told me that there was more to the story than simply that her husband went on vacation. How did Rockwell know that Fanta wasn’t lying to him? Sure, he had spoken to her husband, but something about that made me uncomfortable. Matilda had every confidence in Rockwell, but that didn’t stop her from enthusiastically searching Fanta’s apartment. She had the nosy gene, just like me.
There was no sign of the metal boxes in the living room. We went into the bedroom, where there was a sad lack of a dead body. We weren’t having much luck.
“You smell that?” I asked Matilda.
“Bleach. Lots of bleach. You know, Fanta doesn’t strike me as the world’s greatest housekeeper. That’s an awful lot of bleach to use in a bedroom.”
We stopped breathing and stared at each other, as if all of the answers to our questions could be found in each other’s faces.
“We better hurry up,” Matilda urged. “Fanta’s going to get suspicious. We don’t have a lot of time. Let’s ransack the place, but do it neatly.”
I found what we were looking for, even though we didn’t know what we were looking for, in one of the nightstands. I pulled out Fanta’s husband’s wallet and opened it. His credit cards and ID were still in it, but there was no cash.
“You can’t fly without an ID,” Matilda pointed out.
“And if he drove, eventually he would’ve realized he didn’t have his wallet, and she would’ve sent it to him.”
If we were living in a movie, it would have been the perfect time for the scary music to play. But instead of scary music, we heard the front door open. Matilda and I froze and hugged each other in fear.
“Should we jump out the window?” Matilda whispered. It wasn’t a bad idea.
“How many bones would we break? I’m getting married in three days.”
“Probably just an ankle or a hand.”
“Sounds good. Let’s do it.”
We went to the window, ready to jump out. It was definitely a better alternative to getting caught breaking and entering. But it was too late. Fanta had turned on the lights and walked into the bedroom, by the time we worked the latch on the window. She was furious. And soaking wet. I didn’t know how that happened, but I was reasonably certain my grandmother had something to do with it.
“What are you doing in my home?” she demanded. She was spitting mad. Furious. Even ready to kill.
“Hi, Fanta. Your door was open, and I thought that I had left my pen here when I visited last,” Matilda said.
I was impressed with Matilda’s ability to think on her feet. I had been planning on either throwing something at Fanta, or running around her and out the door. But Matilda had thought up a good excuse on the spur of the moment. In my experience, though, making up stories rarely worked.
And in this case, it didn’t look like it was working, either. Fanta hardly looked like a woman who was convinced that we were innocent pen-seekers.
“I didn’t leave the door unlocked,” Fanta barked. “I’m sure of that. And who breaks into an apartment to find a pen? Is it some kind of gold pen? You could’ve asked me for it at the lake. But you ditched me. You ditched me, and look what happened to me!”
“I didn’t ditch you,” Matilda said, still thinking on her feet. I had to hand it to her. She was still making up stories, despite all odds that Fanta would believe her. “I got lost in all of the chaos with the fireworks. I found Gladie, who needed a ride. As I was driving her home, I remembered that I had left my pen here. I love that pen. My grandmother gave it to me.”
“I thought you didn’t have any family. I thought they were all dead.”
Drat. Matilda hadn’t learned the art of stopping while you’re ahead, but it was a good try. I had to hand it to her. She had potential in the snooping business.
Fanta raised her phone so that we could see it. “I’ve already called your husband to come pick up his crazy wife. I’m going to be pressing charges. Breaking and entering. And even if your friend here is some kind of military cop, it won’t matter.”
As if on cue, Matilda’s husband walked in. He was worried and upset. He ran to Matilda and took her into his arms.
“Oh, my Matilda. It’s so much worse than I imagined. I thought we had a deal. I thought you were going to get help. I love you, my sweetheart. I’m so worried about you.”
“I was looking for my pen,” Matilda said, but her heart wasn’t in it. Her voice was weak and fearful.
“I’m pressing charges,” Fanta announced to Rockwell. “This is beyond the pale.”
“Please. Please, Fanta,” Rockwell pleaded. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s been having a hard time. Her whole life was
transformed by marrying me, and it’s been a very hard transition. She just needs a little help. She needs intensive therapy. I swear to you, Fanta, that this will never happen again.”
Rockwell pushed Matilda out at arm’s length and looked at her. “Right, my darling? It’ll never happen again? We’re going to get you help.”
Matilda nodded, and a tear ran down her cheek. I wanted to defend her, but more than that, I wanted to run away. I was ashamed to watch such a private moment, a moment where a woman who was so much like me was hitting the lowest moment in her life. It was almost like she had become a non-person. Someone who couldn’t trust herself and who other people couldn’t trust. Now she would have to redo her whole life, even her whole psyche, in order to live her life again.
Miraculously, nobody blamed me for the break-in, and Spencer was never contacted about my illegal behavior. I gave Matilda a hug goodbye and left. My snooping was done. It was time to focus on my life and my transition to being a married woman. I hoped that I would be able to handle it better than Matilda had.
I woke up at six-thirty the next morning. Spencer was sound asleep, next to me. He had come home late after trying to clean up the Founders Day mess, which included an exploded car.
He had today, tomorrow, and Sunday off. Three days to relax and get married. After, we weren’t planning on going on a honeymoon, at least not right away. Instead, we were going to just enjoy our new home, which we were moving into on Sunday after the wedding.
Today was the house’s official done day. Spencer was going to show it off to me and his parents in the morning. He had planned the tour for days, and he was keeping it top secret, even though I had been in the house a million times while it was being rebuilt and redecorated.
I sat up in bed.
My uniform was draped over the chair in the corner of the room. I sighed. I didn’t want to put it on again and hand out the coins of our sovereign leader, a.k.a. the maniac dictator. But a deal was a deal. Besides, I only had to wear it today and tomorrow and then I’d be free.
I thought about what he had said about having to wear it everywhere except for the bathroom and sleeping, but I figured I could eat breakfast in my grandmother’s kitchen without him knowing about it.
Before I went downstairs to eat, I had something to do upstairs in the attic. The high school kid, Draco, who had been helping me organize in exchange for junk food, had fixed up the office in the attic. Everything they said about the younger generation was wrong. Just feed them preservatives, and they worked like beasts.
Upstairs, I was surprised to find Draco already at it in the attic. “I had a craving for Pop-Tarts, so I came right over,” he explained. “I’ve got the last of the records inputted in the spreadsheets. I think you’re ready for business. Everything is very organized.”
Not only had he put the records into the computer, but he actually showed me how to use it, which meant a lot for his teaching abilities.
Draco had re-polished the old furniture that had been shoved into a corner of the attic, and he had decorated it so that the attic was now a beautiful sanctuary, in addition to being an office. I was impressed, and even more so, I was pleased to have a real office and a beautiful place to work.
“I love how you decorated,” I told him. “The furniture looks perfect in here.”
“A couple days ago, your grandmother hired a couple men to take out a bunch of the old stuff that was in the corner, and then the rest just fell into place. They’re all antiques, and the two rugs are from Afghanistan. I think they’re worth a fortune.”
There were two desks with Tiffany lamps on them by the window. The rest of the room was filled with a sofa, various chairs, and the two rugs.
“I’m impressed, Draco. I think that there’s a bag of Funyuns in the kitchen,” I told him.
“Really? I’ve heard of them, but I never got a chance to eat one. Thank you, Gladie.”
Draco’s parents only allowed him to eat health food. As far as they knew, Draco had never eaten a French fry. But he had eaten more than his share of poison since he started to help me. My grandmother had a terrible lifelong habit of eating crappy food, and everyone who came in close contact with her adopted her way of eating.
“I’m glad you’re here, Draco.” I said. “I was wondering if you could do some research for me. A background check.”
Draco perked up. “You mean like a private investigator? Like a spy?”
Yes, exactly like a private investigator and a spy. “No, nothing like that. I just need some information on a match. As much as you can give me.”
“What sorts of things are you looking for?”
“Anything that stands out. Anything that shows that he’s not perfect. Anything that would point to a reason why he would lie.”
“Oh, this is going to be good,” Draco said, rubbing his hands together.
Downstairs, my grandmother was already up and in the kitchen. The table was covered in a delicious spread of quiches, French toast, and everything that anyone could want for breakfast.
“What’s all this?” I asked.
“It just arrived,” my grandmother explained. “A gift for your wedding. I have a feeling we’re going to eat really well until you get married, Gladie.”
Spencer entered, wearing sweatpants and no shirt. He was singing. “Today we see our house. Today I give you the grand tour,” he sang. He gave me a kiss on the lips and a kiss on Grandma’s cheek.
“Zelda, I love the outfit,” he said, sitting down and scooping eggs onto his plate. “What’s the special occasion?”
My grandmother was wearing short pants, buttoned at the knee, a striped cotton shirt, and a baseball cap. It wasn’t her usual style choice.
“I’m going to a baseball game today. I haven’t seen a baseball game in person since my father took me when I was eight years old. He never took me again because I kept calling the plays before they happened. It caused quite a stir. I’m excited to go. I’m seeing a very nice team play. I think they’re called the Daddies.”
Spencer stopped chewing and looked up. “What? The Daddies? You mean the Padres? You’re going to a Padres game?”
Spencer was obsessed with the San Diego Padres. If he could have married them instead of me, he would have without a second’s hesitation.
“Yes, that’s it,” my grandmother said, pointing at him. “The Padres. Do you know that I matched the Padres’ owner’s daughter? She’s very happy. She just had triplets. Unfortunately, the owner couldn’t get me a regular seat. So, I have to sit with him and the general manager in a large room over home plate.” She shrugged. “I guess it’s better than nothing.”
Spencer’s mouth dropped open. “Zelda, are you telling me that you’re going to the Padres game, and you’re going to watch it in the owner’s box? His suite? The owner’s suite above home plate?”
“Yes, I think that’s what he said.”
“I want to go,” Spencer said. “Please let me go with you, Zelda. Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll weed your lawn for the rest of my life. I’ll hem your dresses. I’ll bring home fried chicken every night. Anything. Zelda, anything.”
“You know how to hem a dress?” I asked.
“But what about the house?” Grandma asked Spencer. “Aren’t you giving a tour of the house to Gladie and your parents?”
Actually, I would have preferred that he went to the baseball game. I didn’t want to take a tour of the house in front of my mother-in-law to be. I didn’t want her to see me dressed as a dictator.
“I hear the owner’s suite has all-you-can-eat hot dogs. I hear the players visit the suite after the game.” Spencer was in a fugue state, talking to no one, deep in his fantasies about baseball owner suites.
“I’m sure your mother will understand. We can look at the house another day,” I told him. “Like in five years. Five years from now would be a good time to invite her over. I think I’ll be free in five years.”
At the mention of his mother, Spencer
snapped out of his reverie. His mom had a powerful effect on him. “No, I want her to see what I did. I want her to see our beautiful house. She’ll be impressed, and it’ll put her in a good mood for our wedding. You’ll get another invitation to the owner’s suite, right, Zelda?”
Zelda sipped her coffee and thought about it. “Eight-percent chance. He’s got another daughter, and I’ve got a match in mind for her.”
Spencer made a valiant effort not to be disappointed about the baseball game. The blow was softened because he was dying to show off his grand achievement. If I had had a normal mother, who wasn’t in a prison farm for driving a mobile meth lab on her moped, I would have probably understood the need to impress one’s mother. All I had to do was stay out of prison to impress my mother. That reminded me it was time to put my uniform on.
Spencer and I went back upstairs and got dressed. The uniform had taken on a nasty smell from my day in the heat at the lake. Oh, great. Now I looked like a maniac dictator, and I stank. I really knew how to impress the in-laws.
I put on earrings to see if that would spruce up my look, but it just made me look bizarre, so I took them off.
We went back downstairs just as a delivery man arrived with a tall box. “Delivery for Spencer Bolton from Dr. Tiffany’s Love Happiness Factory,” he announced. Spencer signed for the package, and the man slit it open with a box cutter.
“What the hell?” I said.
“What the hell?” Spencer said.
“What is it?” Grandma asked, walking into the room.
Draco walked down the stairs, probably to get his Funyuns. “You got a sex robot, Gladie? That’s clutch. Really clutch.” I didn’t know what clutch meant, but Draco high-fived me on his way to the kitchen.
“It’s a sex robot,” I repeated.
“And it’s clutch,” my grandmother said.
CHAPTER 13
I’m a people person, dolly. But people never cease to shock the hell out of me. A match once told me that, “It’s the known unknown.” In other words, people are going to shock you, and you shouldn’t be shocked that they shock you. You understand, bubbeleh? Don’t be surprised that you’re surprised.