The Spia Family Presses On

by Mary Leo

  Once he was gone, and my mom and Aunt Babe went off to scope out the recently upgraded gift shop, and to fill my prescription for pain meds, my focus went to Lisa. I hadn’t seen her since we were all wheeled in and I needed to talk to her, alone, before we headed back to the orchard with my family.

  Nurse Carol, an overly cheery woman with red hair pointed the way. Lisa apparently had not been released with Jade and me. “She’s still with the doctor,” Nurse Carol said. She had those round buggy eyes that made you think it hurt just to blink, hair that looked as if it wouldn’t move in a tornado, and the sweetest disposition I’d ever encountered in someone who worked the ER.

  “Just follow me, girls,” Nurse Carol instructed. “These kinds of things can be scary and your friend probably needs all the reassurance she can get.”

  Jade and I followed her along a row of drawn curtains. Voices rose up all around us: a child wailed, a man yelled about his injured foot, and an elderly voice asked, “How much time do I have left?”

  My heart was racing the entire time as my mind conjured up horrible scenarios, not the least of which was that Lisa had lapsed into a coma or worse. Perhaps she had internal injuries like Uncle Ray had said and I had foolishly thought she’d passed out from seeing her own blood.

  By the time the curtain was pulled back, I expected to see Lisa lying on the bed, completely comatose. The doctor would tell me that my best friend didn’t merely faint, she had actually suffered a head trauma and needed immediate surgery. I’d have to call her nearest relative to sign the paperwork. The thought of having to deal with Lisa’s mother was more frightening than having to deal with a comatose friend.

  I shuddered at the very idea of it.

  Luckily, Lisa was sitting up on the edge of the bed, looking all fresh and clean in her little blue gown, watching as an Indian male doctor pulled stitches through her right thumb. She could handle the stitches as long as there wasn’t any of her own blood involved.

  “But you don’t understand. I’m on a deadline. I have to be able to type.”

  “But I never said you could not type, Miss. I simply said you should not use your thumb for five days. It is badly bruised and combined with these stitches it will need time to heal. I will put your arm in a sling to remind you.”

  “I don’t want a sling, thank you.”

  He finished stitching, cut the threads and began bandaging her thumb. “I will give you a sling anyway. It is what I recommend.”

  She started to disagree but I interrupted. “I’ll make sure she wears it.”

  He looked over at me. “It is for her own good, Miss. I will give her a prescription for pain medication as well. This is going to be one heck of a thumb-ache.”

  “I can handle it,” Lisa said.

  “Ah, you are like your books then?”

  Her face lit up. “You’re familiar with my work?”

  “I have five daughters, a wife, a mother and a mother-in-law. How could I not know? They have memorized parts of your books and discuss them over dinner. My mother-in-law used your foul-smell method to make my nephew vomit when he ate her pet goldfish, Stan. It was too late for Stan, but my mother-in-law was impressed that your technique worked so effectively. She used her husband’s jar of pickled herring. I have to say, that smell would make anyone toss their cookies.”

  Lisa chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that.”

  “These women practice your survival skills religiously just in case they might need them. My middle daughter has jumped out of a second story window into a garbage container with her hands tied loosely behind her back. I did not approve of this, of course, but she worked up to it, and by the time she jumped, she knew what to do. She was able to find something sharp to cut the rope on her wrists and get out of the container on her own.

  Regrettably, she also managed to cut her baby toe when she jumped . . . she wore flip flops, not the best. I cleaned up the cut and gave her three stitches. She refused the pain medication as well. She said she needed to have all her pistons running on full speed just in case she needed to survive something else.”

  “I’ll send you a few autographed copies of my latest book,” Lisa told him.

  “My family will be so pleased, Miss. Thank you.”

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  “Ah, the least you can do is to wear the sling for five days,” he said. “This will make my family very happy because you will assure them that your thumb will heal properly so you can write more books.”

  She laughed. “Okay, I agree. Bring it on.”

  He patted her shoulder. “You are a very intelligent woman. My family will be happy to learn this.”

  As soon as he left the room, Jade said. “Wow! You’re that Lisa Lin? I’m a total fan. I’ve read all your books. You have to be the coolest chick ever. This is, like, way cool, ya know? To actually meet you and you’re so normal. And short. I mean, not that you’re short, short, but you’re tiny and yet you’re a real kick-ass, ya know?”

  Lisa smiled. “Thanks. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten such a cool compliment.”

  “I passed a coffee stand on the way in here. I, like, so need a latte,” Jade said. “Can I get you guys anything?”

  Both Lisa and I jumped on the opportunity to be alone. We gave her complicated drink orders that would keep her and the barista busy for at least fifteen minutes.

  As soon as she left, Lisa turned to me. “I think one of the goombahs tried to kill us, or at the very least give us a warning.”

  “If that was a warning, I’d hate to think what it would be like if one of them really came after us.”

  “We wouldn’t be having this conversation, that’s for damn sure. That guy knew his shit.”

  “I wouldn’t be so quick to assume it was one of the ex-cons.” I was thinking about that disappearing mustache. “You were pretty incredible out there.”

  “Of course I was. I just wrote about it, Chapter Six, How to Survive a Car Chase. I did extensive research with an adorable wannabe NASCAR driver who taught me all about driving defensively, and how to keep control of your car after a rear or side bump, along with some other, more personal moves that still give me a rush.”

  She threw me a sly smirk.

  “Spare me the details.”

  “I’ll put them in a book someday, an erotica. I could make a killing in that field.”

  “But where would you get the time for the research?”

  She gave me a wry look. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Of course I am,” I said, but I really wasn’t. Okay, so up until last night sex had been put on a high shelf in my life. So high it had required a ladder to retrieve it, but her life seemed to be so full I couldn’t imagine when she possibly had the time for anything, much less an active sex life.

  But then Lisa never did have a problem juggling several things at once. Sobriety does that.

  “Did you see who it was?” Lisa asked.

  “Kind of, but I couldn’t get a good look at the idiot’s face under that cowboy hat, and Chanel shades. Although, I think I saw a mustache, but when I looked again, it was gone.”

  “Okay, so whoever the idiot is uses cheap glue, but buys expensive sunglasses, and has the whole Western monster truck thing going on. I’m betting it’s your cousin Jimmy or a friend from his bar in North Beach. Lot’s of testosterone coming from that truck.”

  “Wearing Chanel sunglasses?”

  “You have a point, but the women in your family don’t drive. How about Maryann?”

  I shook my head. “She’s into saving the planet and only drives eco-friendly.”

  “Any other little clue?”

  “Well, the idiot didn’t have a double chin or any gray hair that I could see, but the windows were heavily tinted, so I can’t be sure of anything.”

  She sighed.

  “Here’s the thing,” Lisa said. “I don’t get why anyone would come after me. I was all for the family burying Dickey in the grove.”

/>   I sat down on a gray plastic chair, my head spinning with possibilities. “Nobody knows that but me.”

  “Shouldn’t you tell someone? I’ve got a life to live, deadlines to keep, a mother who looks forward to retiring in my guesthouse.”

  “You live in a condo in the city. You don’t own a guesthouse.”

  “And I won’t ever own a guesthouse if your family keeps trying to run me off the road. The odds aren’t in my favor with this group. Eventually they’ll succeed. Dickey being the prime example.”

  “Does this mean you’re completely over the idea of allowing my family to cover up Dickey’s death?”

  “No offense sweetie, I love your family but we need to figure out who this idiot is and turn his sorry ass over to the police before he gets any more ideas about sending us body parts or running us off the road. I have no intention of becoming his second victim. Maybe we need to find that ring first and give it back. That way we can smoke this killer out in the open.”

  I leaned back on the plastic chair. “Now you’re talking like the Lisa Lin I know and love, but first we need to get rid of the doll, as Aunt Babe would say. And quick.”

  “What doll?” Nick asked as he slid back the curtain.

  Somehow, in the family and doctor frenzy, I had completely forgotten about relentless Nick.

  “A doll I had when I was a kid,” I said.

  He grinned. “You don’t really expect me to believe that’s what you were talking about, do you? The officers at the scene told me about the black Tundra that tried to run you ladies off the road. According to Jade, if it wasn’t for Lisa’s defensive driving abilities, you girls might be lying in intensive care right now instead of getting a thumb stitched up. Want to tell me who might want to harm you?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said about as convincingly as a five-year-old caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

  “Let’s see, Dickey seems to be missing, there’s a blood stain on your antique olive press, I have a handgun in my possession that has recently been fired, and now someone’s tried to kill the three of you on the highway. I’d say there’s a reasonable chance you both know exactly what this is all about, but for some reason you’re choosing not to tell me or anyone else for that matter. You do know that I can get a warrant and haul both of you into the station for questioning, or you can make all this easy on me and come clean right now.”

  “Jade is overreacting to a pushy tourist. Okay, so maybe we were bumped a little. Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Lisa told him.

  “Your car is totaled, and your rear bumper was completely torn off. I’d say that’s a little worse than a little bump.”

  “My car is totaled?” Lisa whined. “I loved that car. It was my baby, my friend. I swear it had a personality. I’ll never get another one like it. Never.” She lay back on the bed, crestfallen.

  I liked the effect.

  Nick reacted.

  “I know what you mean,” he said, walking closer to her. “I had a sixty-five Camaro like that. A drunk driver plowed into it while it was parked in front of Bectal’s ice cream parlor. I was sixteen. My first car. I cried for two solid days.”

  As if on cue, Lisa began to cry.

  “Now don’t go doing that. I’m not good at crying women, especially one I like.” He turned to me. “Do something.”

  “When she gets like this, I’ve found it’s best to just to sit with her until it passes.” I glanced at my watch. “Oh, look at the time. I have to run.” And I rushed out of the room, hoping that Nick wouldn’t follow me, which he didn’t.

  As I walked out of the ER I ran into Jade carrying the two cups of coffee.

  “Guess what?” I said. “I got in touch with Dickey and told him all about the accident. He was relieved to know you’re all right.”

  “Is he on his way?” she asked all doe eyed, handing me a concoction of coffee that must have been five hundred calories. I took a sip. It was like drinking straight syrup.

  “That’s awful,” I said and dumped it in a trash can. Then I took Lisa’s and did the same thing.

  “Why would you do that? I don’t get you guys. There’s something strange going on here, ya know? I may not always come across like I’m smart, but I’m a member of Mensa and I know when someone’s trying to put one over on me.”

  “There’s nothing strange. Everything’s fine. Just fine.”

  “No it’s not and I’m not leaving this hospital until you tell me what’s going on.”

  She sat down hard in a chair in the ER waiting room, folded her arms and planted her feet, a look of determination on her smudged face.

  I sat down next to her. “Here’s the thing,” I began, trying to figure out how to tell her that Dickey was dead. She stared at me and I could tell she wouldn’t take the news well. “Do you have a friend you can stay with for a few days?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “But what does that have to do with anything? I feel fine.”

  “I think whoever was driving that truck was actually after you.”

  Okay, so I couldn’t tell her about Dickey, but I was telling her the truth. I really did think the guy in the Tundra was after her.

  “Me? Why would anyone want to hurt me?”

  “Jealousy,” I whispered. All right, it was a big fat lie, something I was getting quite good at.

  “You mean somebody’s jealous because I’m engaged to Dickey?”

  Not where I was going, but it worked. “Shh. I wouldn’t say that too loud around here. There’s no telling who could be listening.”

  “I never thought of that.”

  “Oh yeah. Dickey was a babe magnet. Somebody might want you out of the way.”

  “Out of the way, like in dead?”

  I gave her a look, nodded and pretended to check out the room like there might be someone listening to us. Of course, there were only two other people in the room, a man with a gash on his forehead, and a middle-aged woman who looked as if she was about to pass out in her chair.

  “My advice would be to get as far away from here as possible and to stay with a friend for a few days.”

  “But what about my honey-bear? He loves me and I love him.”

  “If he loved you, he would have been here at the hospital. Last I looked he hasn’t shown up. Not a good sign.”

  Big tears rolled down her cheeks. “Maybe we were moving too fast. My friends said I should think about it a little more before I commit.”

  “I’d have to agree with your friends. Especially after today. Don’t you think?”

  She nodded, pulled out a tissue from her pocket wiped her tears and blew her nose with a great big high-pitched honk. It made me want to laugh, but I controlled myself.

  “But now I’m scared to drive back to the city.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I have a plan.”

  Which I did. Suddenly I knew exactly what I had to do with Jade Batista.

  The big white tour bus idled in our parking lot in front of our tasting room like it did most days. My mom had made friends with most of the tour guides, and knew several of the drivers on a first name basis. I didn’t have a problem talking the guide into taking Jade after I offered everyone on the bus a free three-once bottle of our oil. Luckily, there were only thirty people on the bus and the tiny bottles were a great promotional device. It was one of those win-win moments.

  Jade and I stood in front of the bus handing out the oil as everyone boarded. They smiled, thanked us and went away with both the oil and a brochure detailing Spia’s olive oil club. For about forty dollars every quarter, the participant received two bottles of extra virgin olive oil of our choice, along with a few recipes, and a fifteen percent discount on any online purchase. A great deal for the EVOO connoisseur.

  “You have someone to pick you up at the bus drop-off and someone to stay with for a few days, right?” I asked her. I had to make sure she would be safe.

  She nodded. “My ex-boyfriend.”

  I could tell
she was scared, and I felt sorry for her. I knew that feeling well. Plus she kept running her hand over the welt on her head, which was already turning a deep purple.

  My shoulder was sore and stiff. Whatever drug they had given me in the hospital was wearing off and it was time for another dose from that filled prescription my mom had picked up.

  “Here,” she said pulling off her engagement ring. “Tell Dickey I don’t want to be engaged anymore. I don’t like car chases and sneaking around. That’s for movies and books, not for real life.”

  I closed her hand around the ring. “You keep it. Believe me, he doesn’t need it. Sell it and use the money for something you want.”

  “I can’t do that. It’s not right.”

  “Consider it payment for all you went through today.”

  “No, I—”

  “Trust me on this.”

  She smiled and slipped it back on her finger.

  “Tell me about your ex.”

  “He’s just a guy I met when I first moved to the city. We were going to get married, but he didn’t like me writing to Dickey or working on the island. I only wrote to Dickey because of research for my thesis, ya know? Same reason I worked on the island. When Dickey was released, part of me got engaged to him just to show my ex I’m my own person, ya know? But it was all a game.”

  She piqued my curiosity. “A game?”

  “Yeah. Confidentially, all that stuff about sex with Dickey, I made that up. I only ever slept with one other boy in my entire life before Jay-Jay, that’s his name. And really, all we did was sleep together, and maybe fool around a little, but nothing serious happened. I was a virgin when I first made it with Jay-Jay. I don’t like to admit that. Makes me sound like a real nerd or something, which I kinda’ was before I moved to San Francisco. Ruins the mystique, ya know? I don’t even know if I would have gone through with it with Dickey. I mean, the guy was old enough to be my grandfather, ya know?”

  I smiled. “I know. We all like to play games with our sexual prowess.”