by Maria Geraci
Grace wasn’t sure she wanted to hear this. This was Sarah and Charlie, and it was just all so weird. Incestuous, almost. But not. She forced herself to listen.
“Charlie wanted me to leave Craig right away, to file for divorce. And that’s what I wanted too, but even though I was deliriously happy, I couldn’t get it out of my head that what I’d done was wrong. It was adultery, Grace.” Sarah’s voice started to shake. “I told Craig and he begged me to go to counseling, to see if we could give our marriage another try. And I felt like I owed him that at least. And Charlie was angry with me for giving in to Craig. And I was angry at myself and—”
“Wait! I’m confused. After you caught Craig with Carla and you decided to file for divorce, why didn’t you and Charlie get together then?”
“Charlie and I left things so badly. He didn’t understand how after we’d been together, I could . . . you know, try to make things work with Craig. But I swear I never slept with Craig again. I just couldn’t. Not after being with Charlie.”
“Male pride,” Grace said, shaking her head in disgust.
“That night you told me Charlie was moving to Miami . . . I almost threw up in the car. I must have called him a dozen times and hung up before he could answer. Then, at the meeting Saturday night, when Phoebe accused Charlie of sexual harassment . . .” Sarah’s face went red. “Well, you saw my reaction.”
“You were awesome,” Grace said. “I was so proud of you!”
“I realized then that Charlie and I had been playing some kind of stupid game to see which of us would be the first to cave in, and I didn’t care anymore. So I drove to his house. I didn’t even have to say anything. I rang his doorbell and . . . The look on his face when he saw me . . . He grabbed me and we started kissing and he threw some clothes in a bag and we jumped in his car and when I asked him where we were going he just kept laughing and telling me I’d find out. And we got to the airport and he paid this outrageous fortune for tickets to Vegas and I thought, okay, we’re going on a romantic getaway. But then . . . right there at the counter, in front of everyone, he got down on one knee and he asked me to marry him.
“And I said yes. Well, I think I actually screamed yes, and everyone around us started clapping, like we were in some corny movie! And Grace, I’ll be honest, even though it would have been nice to have you and my parents and your parents and Abuela there, I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”
Tears were running into Grace’s margarita. She wiped her nose on the edge of her sleeve. “It’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever heard.”
Sarah nodded, her own tears running down her cheeks. “I’m going to hell, aren’t I?”
“If you’re going to hell, then so am I.”
“No,” Sarah said. “This isn’t going to be fixed by saying three Hail Marys and two Our Fathers. I’m really going to hell. Or worse. There’s probably a special place for people like me. Someplace like limbo where the dead babies who aren’t baptized go, only it’s for all the selfish Catholics who break commandments and don’t care. I bet Sister Perpetua would know what it’s called.”
Grace began to laugh at the utter ridiculousness of it all, only Sarah was right. Not about the going to hell part, because Grace didn’t believe God worked that way. At least, not the God Grace believed in. But they’d managed to make a big muck out of the sacrament of marriage, and Grace had to take some responsibility in it as well. The fact was, she should have told Sarah what she suspected about Craig before the wedding, no matter how uncomfortable the whole thing might have been.
“Sarah, remember that night outside Florida Charlie’s when we were waiting in the car before the boyfriend club meeting and you asked me why I was trying to get you and Charlie together now? Why I hadn’t tried, like, five years earlier?”
Sarah nodded.
“I think, deep down, I’ve always known you and Charlie had something going. And I think . . . I think I was jealous because I wanted to keep you all to myself. All my life, I’ve been envious of my brother. Charlie doesn’t want to work at the store? Well, he doesn’t have to. Charlie comes home late to dinner? Oops, we need to keep his plate warm! I could sense sometimes that he wanted to hang out with us. Not when we were kids, of course, but later . . . And I didn’t want to give you up to him. I know that sounds stupid, but there it is.”
“Oh, Grace, it’s not stupid at all! I promise you, no matter what, we’ll always be best friends.”
“Charlie doesn’t deserve you,” Grace said, trying to laugh away the tears. “But I do. St. Anthony couldn’t have given me a better sister-in-law.”
“What does St. Anthony have to do with it?”
“I’ll tell you later.” Grace grabbed Sarah’s hand. “Right now, I want to hear all about this rock!”
They spent the rest of the night getting drunk on margaritas and laughing, and sometimes crying, and every once in a while Grace would marvel on how very dense she’d been about the whole Charlie/Sarah affair. But mostly she was just grateful to have the old Sarah back. The one who, thank God, had never been stubborn and unforgiving with Grace.
34
Bless Me, Father, for I Have Sinned
“So Sarah confessed everything to me . . . And I mean everything ,” Grace said, unable to resist taking a poke at Charlie. It was Friday and Grace was eating lunch at Luigi’s with her brother. It was something they’d rarely done before, she realized, because he was always too busy with work. Marriage to Sarah was softening him already.
Charlie looked resigned to the fact that his life was now forever linked to some kind of sister/wife/best friend ménage à trois.
Grace decided to take pity on him. “Don’t worry, Sarah doesn’t kiss and tell. Not every detail anyway.” She ordered the spaghetti and meatballs and waited patiently as the server brought them their breadstick basket. “Ah, the delicious smell of Luigi’s breadsticks.”
The first couple of days after the fallout, she hadn’t been able to eat. Now it was the exact opposite. She couldn’t stop eating. It was binge eating, she knew, but she couldn’t help herself. Food was the only thing making her feel better at the moment.
“So what do you think about Sarah and me?” Charlie said. “Honestly?”
“I think you’re an ass hat and that you’ve behaved abominably. And that you and Sarah almost screwed up your lives. But you’re my brother and she’s my best friend and I love you both. And I don’t know that, under similar circumstances, I might not have done the same thing. According to Abuela, I can be pretty stubborn too. And I have to admit, scooping Sarah off to Las Vegas was pretty romantic. I expect nothing but smooth sailing from now on. Oh, and a niece or nephew in the next couple of years would be nice too. Either one. I’m not picky.”
“You’ll be happy to know we’re working on that.”
Grace laid down her breadstick. “Charlie, I’m really sorry about Phoebe.”
“You know the old saying, how every cloud has a silver lining? As awkward as the whole Phoebe thing has been around the office, it’s her accusation against me that made Sarah admit she was still in love with me. So, in a way, I have Phoebe to thank for giving me Sarah.”
“The partners at the law firm, they don’t believe her, do they?”
“It’s basically a case of he said, she said. I’m not worried about it and you shouldn’t be either.” The unspoken part being that Grace had enough to worry about. Like her own job. Charlie paused while the server brought them their orders. “I turned down the Miami promotion.”
“Charlie, that’s great! I mean . . . I’m sorry, I guess.”
“Don’t be. The only reason I was thinking of taking it in the first place was because of Sarah. It was hard, seeing her and . . . not being with her.” Grace nodded. It still amazed her how clueless she’d been. “So how about you and Farrell? Any news you want to share on that front?” he asked.
“Charlie, did we both get the delusional gene?”
“What?” He put on a fake hu
rt expression that made Grace laugh.
“I’ve told you a dozen times, Brandon and I are good friends. End of story.” She fiddled with her spaghetti and thought about what Joe had said to her about not opening up and not giving their relationship a fair chance. “The truth is, I’ve been seeing someone for a couple of months now. His name is Joe Rosenblum. But it’s over.”
“Name sounds familiar.” Charlie frowned. “The dentist . . . Wickham?”
“I thought you overworked attorney types were too busy to listen to Speedway.”
“Everyone in Daytona listens to Speedway.”
“So I’m finding out.”
“What are you going to do now? About a job?”
“I don’t know,” Grace admitted. “I haven’t had time to think about it, what with best friends and brothers eloping and Speedway Gonzalez blaring my personal life for everyone to hear.”
“It wasn’t just your personal life. It was the personal lives of all the guys you reviewed in that club.”
Charlie was right, of course. She just hated being reminded of it. “Brandon got me a pretty good lead on a job. A friend of his works at the Chamber of Commerce. Tourism PR, that kind of thing. I called him and he wants to interview me next week.”
“Sounds perfect. If they offer, take it,” Charlie said without blinking. “By the way, don’t worry about that guy who was threatening to sue the store. I sent him a little nasty-gram the other day. He’s already backed down.”
“And this is why everyone should have a lawyer in the family,” Grace muttered.
“Have you talked to Dad yet? He misses you.”
“I’ve been avoiding him,” Grace said. “I know, I know! Don’t say it. I’m a coward. He’s selling the store to Brandon, isn’t he?”
Charlie stopped eating. “Go see him, Grace. Talk to him.”
“I’m ashamed, Charlie. I’ve disappointed him and I’ve disappointed myself too.”
“C’mon, Grace, stop being so fucking dramatic. You’re his little Tomato, for God’s sake. He can’t stay mad at you.” She must have looked surprised because he shrugged and said, “I know Pop loves me and he’s proud of me, but it’s not the same. I guess parents love their kids differently. They’d have to, because we’re all different, right? You and Pop have always shared this special bond. It’s like you get one another in a way he and I don’t. When I was a kid, I used to be jealous.” He chuckled. “And then I realized that he let me get away with shit he’d never let you get away with, so I figured it was a good tradeoff.”
Grace felt her jaw go slack. “Charlie, this is too weird. You know I told Sarah that when we were kids I was jealous of you?”
“Of course you were. I was better looking, smarter, funnier—”
She threw her napkin at him and they both laughed.
Grace stopped on her way into the store to give the alligator a discerning look. He was now dressed in his St. Patrick’s Day outfit. Not as sharp as his Santa costume or the new NASCAR look, but still, it gave him a certain flair. Penny spotted her. “Hey! What are you doing here? Not that you need a reason to come into the store, but . . .”
“I’m here to see Pop.”
“That’s good,” Penny said. She studied Grace’s face. “Sweetie, you have bags under your eyes. Are you not sleeping?”
“I stayed up all night finishing a book. Among other things.”
Penny looked like she was going to laugh. “There wasn’t a movie version?”
“Actually, there is; at least, I think there is. I stayed up reading The Old Man and the Sea. Joe loaned it to me a while back but I never got around to reading it.”
“Isn’t Hemingway a little morose under the circumstances? You should be doing things to cheer you up!”
Grace smiled. “Have you talked to Ellen? Has she gone back to work?”
“Oh my God. You haven’t heard, have you? So you know how Ellen has been in hiding ever since Speedway put the bounty out on her panties picture. Each morning he’s been upping the price, and this morning he offered five hundred bucks. And Ellen was so fed up with the whole thing that she took the picture herself. She walked right down to the station and demanded the money from Speedway.”
“No!”
“Yep. He gave it to her too. She’s going to take us all out to dinner next week. Her treat, she says. Plus, she finally took down the Yahoo! site.”
“Thank God.”
“I think over the past few days she’s come to the realization that women’s empowerment isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Yeah, I have too.” Grace glanced around the store. “So where’s Pop? I saw his car parked in back.”
“He’s in the office.” Penny gave her a thumbs-up. “Good luck!”
Grace knocked on the door. Pop yelled out a gruff “Come in.” There were papers in stacks everywhere. On the desk, on the chairs, even on the floor.
Grace stared at the mess, bewildered. “Where did all these papers come from?”
“I pulled out all the invoices on the merchandise.” He picked up a stack from the floor. “When did we start buying T-shirts from this place down in Miami?”
“Oh . . . that’s a new vendor. But the quality and the price are first-rate. I swear. You won’t find a better deal anywhere.”
He laid the stack back on the floor. “I’ll take your word on that.”
Grace began eyeing some of the papers. “Pop, if you want, I can bring you up to speed on all this within a day or so. I know it seems confusing right now because you’ve been away from it for a while, but it’s pretty cut-and-dry. You won’t have any trouble figuring out the ordering system.”
He showed her a pamphlet for a trade show to be held in Tampa next month. “What about this? You think you might want to go to this show? I’ve been thinking we need to start selling the back scratchers again. You know, the ones shaped like the manatee?”
“Those were terrible sellers. Don’t you remember? We ended up having to put them on a two-for-one giveaway clearance rack, and even then it took forever to get rid of them.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Pop,” Grace said, taking a deep breath. “I know you went to see Brandon the other day. I don’t think selling the store is a good idea.”
“You don’t, huh?”
“No. As a matter of fact, it’s a terrible idea. The worst one you’ve ever had. I had lunch with Charlie yesterday. He told me . . . Well, never mind what he told me. I stayed up all night working on this.” She pulled a sheet of paper out of her bag and handed it to him. “It’s a business plan. Kind of like the one I wrote up about my idea to keep the store open on Sundays, but this one is more comprehensive.”
He took the sheet and began to read.
“I read The Old Man and the Sea, Pop, and I totally get it. It’s like you’re the old fisherman, Santiago.” She paused. “Not that I’m saying you’re old or anything. And Florida Charlie’s is the fish . . . or maybe the fish in this case is a symbol for success. I’m not sure, I’ll have to ask Ellen. She’ll know. The point is, you can’t give up. You can’t sell the store. Even if we end up going bust, we have to keep trying.”
“Who says I’m selling the store? Farrell’s bank is giving me a loan to get this place back in order. Charlie worked it out.”
“He did? He didn’t say anything to me about a loan!” That sneak.
“Your brother’s a sharp negotiator. Got me a great interest rate. This place needs a new roof. And the bathrooms are a mess.” He read a few more lines of her comprehensive business plan and locked eyes with her, surprised. “You really think we should resurrect the orange-head commercials?”
Grace cleared her throat. “I think it’s worth a try. They were pretty successful, weren’t they? We could do a whole retro ad campaign. I think people would really go for that.”
“Did you know Stella wants four weeks off this summer to go visit her daughter up in Fort Walton Beach? I thought the longest we gave off was two w
eeks at a time.”
“True, but you know, Pop, we have to make an exception for Stella. She’s been here forever.”
“Won’t the other employees complain?”
“Let ’em. When they’ve been here fifty years, then they can take off four weeks too.”
Pop grinned.
“About that trade show . . . I could go, but I’m not staying at the same hotel as last time. The rooms all smelled like smoke.”
“Okay,” Pop said. “Stay where you want. Within reason. Just don’t forget the receipts.”
Florida Charlie’s wasn’t getting bought out! And it wasn’t getting leveled. And in that moment, Grace knew, she just knew, that no matter what happened to the store, there wasn’t anywhere else Grace wanted to work but right here.
“You know, Tomato, I’m getting too old to run around the parking lot with the orange-head on. It’s just not dignified. So maybe instead we could do a father/daughter orange-head commercial. We could do Big Orange Head and Little Orange Head. Do a kind of Burns and Allen routine. What do you think?”
Grace stilled. “I guess you’re thinking . . . I would be Little Orange Head?”
Pop made an impatient sound. “You don’t think I’m going to be Little Orange Head, do you?”
“On one condition: I get to say the punch line.”
Pop sighed. “Okay.”
Your dad is weird and so are you!
Richard Kasamati hadn’t known it, but all those years ago on the third-grade playground he’d paid Grace the best compliment she could ever hope to get.
35
Real Men Do Zumba
“You’re late,” Grace said to Brandon, ushering him into her town house. “What movie did you bring?” Monday nights had become their standard movie-and-popcorn night.