by Renée Riva
Daddy turns around and looks right at Dino. “Dino, I’m not sure I heard you correctly. Is there a problem?”
Dino looks around, and I’m nodding, tryin’ to hint to him to go ahead and say it again. But Dino backs down. “No—I’m fine.”
“That’s what I thought you said.” Then he pulls back onto the highway.
Rats. There goes my only chance to ride in the boat. This is gonna be the longest, hottest drive, especially when I’m crammed between two other kids, with a big hairy dog droolin’ down my back. Even when you roll all the windows down for fresh air, the air outside is hotter than the air inside. It’s so blazin’ hot, you can even see mirages on the road ahead.
Suddenly, we spot the A&W and beg Daddy to stop for some ice-cold root beer, but he tries to tell us it’s only a mirage.
“No it’s not,” we’re all yellin’ back.
“Yeah, it is, but if you insist on drinking imaginary root beer, that’s fine with me.” Then he swerves off the highway into the A&W parking lot.
Root beer never tastes so good as when you are dyin’ of thirst and you slug down a big ice-cold mug of it. We buy an extra jug to take with us too. As soon as we’re back on the road, Benji starts to whine about needin’ to go to the bathroom, so Daddy pulls off the highway and tells him to go right there on the side of the road.
“I’m not peeing in front of everyone,” Benji yells back.
Daddy rolls his eyes and tries to explain to him that that’s what men do when they’re out in the middle of nowhere.
“Well, I’m not a man, and I’m not peeing out there.”
“Just go stand behind a tumbleweed then,” Daddy says back.
“What if there’s a rattlesnake—he’ll jump out and bite me.”
By now everyone else is startin’ to need to go too just thinkin’ about it so much.
J. R. says he will go with Benji if Benji will promise to go. Then Dino says he’ll go too. So finally, Benji agrees and climbs out of the car. I just about die laughin’ when I see all three of my brothers peein’ together along the side of the road. Mama decides this would make for a fine Polaroid memory and leans out of the car window to snap a shot of their little behinds all lined up, side by side. We have got to be the weirdest family on earth.
Once we see the turnoff to the Lakeview Motel, Daddy tells Mama that it’s just a mirage too, and he speeds right past it.
“Sonny Degulio, you’d better turn this car around right now,” Mama warns him.
Daddy looks at Mama. “Do I have to?”
Mama glares back. “Yes, you do.”
After a good loud groan, Daddy makes a big U-turn and takes us back, sayin’ that of all the mirages, he wished this one were the real thing, and he still hoped it would all disappear when we got there. Mama’s relatives are not my daddy’s favorite people to spend his vacation time with. But Daddy loves the Lakeview Motel, and he loves Mama even more, which is why he agreed to go.
The Lakeview Motel is where Daddy always stayed for his family vacations in the olden days. It’s a historical pink brick lodge that sits on a small pond, with a dock and two rowboats. When we pull up to the lobby, Daddy looks at Mama and says, “Well, what do you think?” Mama steps out of the car and looks around. “Where’s the lake?”
Daddy climbs out of the car too and goes to stand by Mama. He puts his arm around her and says, “Sophie, that’s the special thing about the Lakeview Motel—there is no lake. It’s for people with big imaginations. But, there is this nice little pond stocked full of fish. And if you crane your neck as far as you can to your right, from the upstairs window, you can see the reservoir from there.”
As soon as the twins hear the word fish, they start pullin’ all of their fishin’ gear out of the boat as fast as they can. “I got dibs on the new pole,” Benji yells.
“It won’t matter what pole you have, you never catch anything anyway,” Dino yells back and grabs “Old Faithful,” Daddy’s old pole.
Daddy has told them that even the worst fisherman in the whole world could catch a fish at the Lakeview trout pond. “Dino, be sure and watch your hook, and keep it out of Benji’s back this time, okay, buddy?”
“Okay, Dad,” Dino calls back, as he runs for the pond with his loose fishhook swinging wildly in all directions.
Me and Daddy are walkin’ toward the lobby to get our room key, when the cousins roll in, pullin’ their sparklin’ blue jet boat behind their matchin’ blue pickup truck. It looks like someone dumped a truckload of glitter all over the top of their boat.
I look over at Daddy, who has stopped dead in his tracks. He looks back at Mama and shields his eyes as though he’s goin’ blind just from starin’ at it and says, “Hey-ho, the gang’s all here.”
My uncle Nick is a big hairy Greek with a loud voice. The family scandal on Uncle Nick is, Grandma Juliana thinks he’s Italian. Aunt Genevieve met him and fell in love with him while traveling abroad, then realized there was no way Grandma Juliana would put up with one of her daughters marryin’ beneath their Italian lineage. Especially a Greek. But, being that Nick was dark and obnoxiously loud, she never questioned that he wasn’t Italian. Even his name was close enough that Grandma Juliana didn’t suspect anything. The real nightmare came when Grandma Juliana insisted on meeting Nick’s family, who would never in their life pretend to be Italians and would be completely insulted by the whole notion that Italians are better than Greeks. That left Genevieve and Nick no choice but to elope, since both families were planning to attend the wedding. Everyone was really mad that they weren’t included in the nuptials, but little did they know the real disaster that would have gone down in The Dynasty Diaries had they gone through with their original plan.
So far they’ve been able to ward off the Sophronia-Juliana get-together for eighteen years. But I’m prayin’ that it all comes to a head when Grandma Juliana and the Sophronias all end up in Italy together this fall. That is one family reunion I would give my right arm to attend.
Uncle Nick hops down from his pickup truck, looks over at our boat, and laughs. “Hey, Sonny, why don’t you trade in that piece of pink driftwood for something like this baby?” Then he struts over to Daddy and gives him a big bear hug.
“How’s it going, N-ick?” Daddy tries to say, while he’s gettin’ the air squeezed out of him.
Aunt Genevieve runs over to Mama in her spiky high heels and twirls around like she’s showin’ off how good she looks in her too-tight pedal pushers. “Can you tell I’ve lost weight?” she says, and gives Mama a hug and a kiss. I’m thinkin’ that if she turned around she’d probably find it, ’cause it looks like it got shifted around to her backside.
Once she spots me, I try and hide behind Daddy. She’s that huggy-kissy type, and she’s comin’ straight at me with her bright red lips that will end up all over my face once she gets ahold of me.
The two cousins, Stacy and Nicky Jr., hop down from the truck and just stand there staring at the motel like there’s somethin’ wrong with it. “We aren’t really staying here, are we?” Stacy whines.
“I hope not,” Nicky echoes, equally as whiney. “This place is a dive.”
We haven’t seen our cousins for a real long time, but they act like we aren’t even here. All they seem to care about is not stayin’ at our motel.
Big Nick takes a look around. “I’ve heard of roughin’ it, Sonny, but you gotta be kidding, right?”
Daddy doesn’t even bother to answer. He calls Uncle Nick and Nicky Jr. “Hercules and Zeus” when they aren’t around. Uncle Nick acts like a big hotshot, and Nicky Jr. tries to act just like him, but he’s just a scrawny little thirteen-year-old with a big mouth.
“How ’bout we all stay at one of the newer hotels on the reservoir—our treat, really—nothin’ money can’t buy.” Uncle Nick’s struttin’ around like a peacock showin’ off his feathers.
Aunt Genevieve looks at Mama. “Oh, do come with us, Soph. We just drove past a real classy place right on the w
ater, with a huge pool for the kids. Who wants to swim in a pond with fish, anyway?”
I can see the veins in Daddy’s neck poundin’ away, but all he says is, “Well, Nick, my family enjoys the rustic setting and fish pond, but you’re more than welcome to stay at a place more suitable for your family.”
Aunt Gen looks at Mama like she feels sorry for her havin’ to stay here. “We’ll book the penthouse and have you all over to see pictures of the Tuscan villa we’re rebuilding for our second home.”
“Rebuilding?” Daddy asks. “Why, I thought folks like you would want to buy a new villa.”
Uncle Nick belts out a laugh. “That’s funny, Sonny, a new villa. I think the newest villas in Italy are about a hundred years old. But this one will look better than new by the time we’re finished, trust me. The neighbors will wonder who in the world would paint their villa blue, but it’s kind of our signature color, if you know what I mean.”
“Yep, I know exactly what you mean, Nick. Pink is our signature color, so we’ll be happy staying right here with our pink boat and pink motel—but, by all means, I insist you take your family up the road where the rest of the classy folks are staying.”
I could tell what Daddy was really thinkin’, but they just thought he was bein’ polite to offer them a better place.
“Well, if you’re sure.” Uncle Nick signals to his family to hop back in the truck. The cousins look at us like we’re weird for stayin’ here.
“We’ll give you a call to make dinner plans once we’ve checked in,” Aunt Gen announces while climbing back into the cab. “Any good suggestions?”
Daddy cuts in before Mama has a chance to answer. “Actually, we’ve got reservations over at Dick’s Drive-In when we’re done fishing.”
“Ha.” Uncle Nick snorts. “Reservations at Dick’s. Too funny, Sonny—hey, that rhymes.”
Daddy glances over at Mama and rolls his eyes. Then he turns back toward Uncle Nick and says, “I think we’ll just turn in early tonight and plan to meet up with you all in the morning at the reservoir.”
We all wave as they roll back out onto the highway. Daddy and Mama both let out a big sigh. Daddy looks at the motel. “Well, it ain’t Italy, baby, but welcome to your pink villa.”
Mama leans over and kisses Daddy on the cheek. “I’ll take you and my pink villa over Nick and a blue villa in Italy any day.” Then she looks it over and calls it Villa Rosa Mia, meaning “My Pink Villa.”
That makes Daddy smile.
Me and J. R. run to our motel room to get dibs on our beds. Our room has its own kitchenette, two big beds, a set of bunks, and a foldout couch. My bed even has a machine that takes coins and makes it vibrate. Adriana comes in long enough to change into her bathing suit, then heads to the pond. J. R. decides to go fishin’ and follows her out.
I feel like explorin’ with Sailor, who has to be tied up when I’m not playin’ with him. We take a short trail and find a gift shop where they sell ice cream cones and candy. There are no dogs allowed inside, so I tell Sailor to stay while I pop in to check out the candy supply. He’s pretty good about stayin’ until he spots a few squirrels and goes tearin’ after them with his leash draggin’ behind him. After he trees the squirrels, he finally comes back. He gets no candy from me for runnin’ off like that, and he knows why. After I eat all four pieces of saltwater taffy, slowly, in front of him, we head back to the pond where the rest of my family is hangin’ out.
The twins and J. R. are fishin’ away on the dock, while Adriana is all set up on her little beach mat, workin’ away on that tan of hers again. Me and Sailor find a nice spot of shade under a weepin’ willow tree, where we lie on our backs and look up at the clouds. Sailor is the only dog I know who plays dead without being told to. He just likes to lie on his back for no good reason.
At first, I’m all happy and peaceful just watchin’ the clouds go by. But then, the clouds start to look like cotton candy, which reminds me of the time Cousin Stacy ate so much cotton candy at the fair that she threw up on the merry-go-round. I was the lucky one on the horse right next to hers—the one that went down when hers went up—which is the worst possible place to be when someone is throwing up. That makes me think about my cousins and how they’re up the road at some fancy hotel—with a big pool that probably has a slide and a diving board—and all of a sudden somethin’ just doesn’t seem fair here.
Mama and Daddy are sittin’ together at the end of the dock with their feet in the water, drinkin’ root beer over ice. I go out there to throw a stick for Sailor off the dock, but instead I end up sayin’ somethin’ stupid. “How come we have to stay here instead of at a nice place with the cousins?”
Daddy looks at me. “Excuse me?”
I know I should just say “never mind,” but it doesn’t come out that way. Instead it comes out as, “This place is dumb—I want to go swimmin’ in a nice big swimmin’ pool without stinky fish in it.”
My mama’s head jerks around real fast, which is always a bad sign. She looks right at me with those raised eyebrows she gets when you’ve said the wrong thing and says, “Well, well … who shoved a silver spoon in your mouth when you were born?”
I don’t remember anyone ever shovin’ a silver spoon in my mouth, only a plastic one. Mama used to feed the twins and me in the bathtub when we were little. She just brought in a little dinner tray of food and a spoon and shoveled the stuff into our mouths while we played in the tub. She didn’t see the point in messin’ with three bibs and three high chairs, when she could just feed us in the tub and wash it all down the drain when we were done.
“Nobody,” I answered back. “But it doesn’t seem fair that they get to have everything so nice, and we don’t.”
Daddy told me to come sit down next to him. Sailor came and sat on my other side. “A. J., I want you to take a good look around and tell me what you see.”
“Well, I see a pond, some trees, a pink motel, and some rollin’ hills.”
Then Daddy says, “Can I tell you what I see?”
“Yeah.” As long as you don’t say you see a spoiled rotten kid who’d better zip it before she gets her mouth washed out with soap.
“I look around, and I see my boys fishing on a pond full of trout, and I remember being a boy here myself. I see my oldest daughter lying in the sun, listening to music. I’ve been watching my youngest daughter and her dog, beneath a shady tree, watching the clouds go by. I’m sitting by the most beautiful woman in the world, wondering how a guy like me ever got this lucky. And all I am thinking inside is, Thank You, God, for life is good.”
10
Sand and Surf
“Good morning, campers.…” Daddy jolts us out of a dead sleep with his park ranger megaphone. Once I remember where I am, I realize I must’ve passed out on the vibrating bed last night and slept like a baby ’til that blaring speaker scared me outta my wits. Adriana awakes all grumpy from havin’ to share a bed with me. She says she got no sleep at all ’cause I was thrashing around so much. I tell her to cheer up, that she has all day ahead to spend with Cousin Stacy. Adriana and Cousin Stacy are the same age, but Adriana has a hard time listenin’ to her brag about how popular she is and how she’s goin’ steady with the most popular boy at her school. Everyone knows that any girl going steady is given a St. Christopher necklace—even if they aren’t Catholic. So, last time we saw her, Adriana asked to see proof of her St. Christopher, and Stacy told her she left it at home because it was solid gold and she didn’t want anything to happen to it. We never believe a word she says.
Mama’s in the kitchenette fryin’ up the twin’s mornin’ catch. I’m tryin’ not to think about them sizzlin’ away on the stove, after gettin’ yanked out of the water by a big sharp hook. Poor fish. Talk about a lousy day. I’m stickin’ to cold cereal myself. Whenever we travel, we get to have these miniature cereal boxes all to ourselves. You just punch ’em open, pour on the milk, and eat right out of the box. While I’m right in the middle of eatin’ my Cocoa Crunch
ies, Daddy’s voice comes blarin’ through the speaker again, makin’ me drop my spoon.
“Attention, campers. As soon as you’re done eating, you all need to get into your bathing suits, use the bathroom—especially Benji—and get into the car … repeat; bathing suits, bathroom, car. Over and out.”
Nothing like havin’ a park ranger for a wake-up caller when you’re on vacation.
On my way out to the car, I almost get run over by a young Mexican girl pushin’ a cartful of towels and sheets. Her cart is piled so high that she couldn’t see me.
“Lo siento … s-orry,” she says, lookin’ embarrassed. She’s helpin’ to make up the rooms with her mom and another girl who looks like her sister. Boy, they start workin’ young around here.
I smile and say, “That’s okay.” Then I remember something I learned in Spanish from Señora Habara on TV in second grade. “No problema,” I add.
She smiles back. Once I’m in the car, I watch her from my window and start feelin’ bad about what I said yesterday to Daddy. Here I am ready to go spend a day lying around in the sand and havin’ fun on the water, and this girl and her family have to spend the day makin’ beds and cleanin’ up after people like us. I feel really sad that they’re too poor to go play like other kids their age. Just as we’re pullin’ away, the girl looks right at me. That makes me feel even worse, like maybe I should just stay here and make my own bed. Instead I wave good-bye.
When we get to the boat launch, we don’t see our cousins anywhere in the lineup for the launch. “It can’t be too hard to find them—just look for the blinding blue boat,” Daddy says. “I’m sure it’s one of a kind.”
“There it is,” Dino yells. “It’s already out on the water.”
And there’s my uncle Nick sittin’ up on the back of the driver’s seat, wearin’ tiny black swim bottoms that look very small on his big hairy body. He looks like a gorilla in Jockey shorts.