Gina was about to mark and highlight the two names in the book, when she remembered that it was only on loan from Linda’s sister. She copied down the names and their corresponding addresses and wondered if she might have time to check out at least one of the addresses during lunch; however, she knew that she had better use her lunch break to start developing that plan Mr. Toosh and Liz were making her come up with. She only had a few days until it was due.
When lunchtime finally arrived, Gina tried to get started on her improvement plan. So far all she had was the title typed on her monitor. In exasperation she continued typing:
Career Improvement Plan
My plan to improve and excel with Premier Bank includes shoving a big ole board up my ass, so I can be just like Mr. Toosh. . . .
She began backspacing away her little joke before someone had the chance to see it. She decided she didn’t have the mental capacity at that moment to develop the plan and figured she’d save it for the weekend. The pressure would be on by then, and she worked better under pressure.
“Linda, can you cover for me if I’m a little late getting back from lunch?”
“Why? What’s up?”
“I have an errand I need to run.”
“What’s with the mystery lately, Gina?”
“Thanks, Linda. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Gina said, ignoring Linda’s question while she grabbed her purse and headed out the door.
She got into her car and looked at the addresses again. The Italian David lived close by in Arlington. The other David was out in Reston, about a half-hour drive from where Gina worked. She pulled out her local map and found David Capricio’s residence. She could be there in about ten minutes. The route she chose took her in the back way to a new neighborhood of grand town homes. Land was so scarce in the inner suburbs of D.C. that you rarely saw detached houses being built. Instead, spacious brick town homes with luxurious amenities were sprouting up all over the place.
When she found David’s house, she just casually drove by and saw a couple of BMWs parked in the driveway. She continued down the road for about a block and then turned around and stopped the car, taking it all in. She knew he must have some serious cash if he was living in such an upscale neighborhood, and if the cars in the driveway belonged to him. She fought the urge to get out of the car and sneak around the house to peer in the windows. She would have to bring binoculars next time, and coming in the evening would definitely be a better idea. With the lights on inside the house, she would be able to see in, but he wouldn’t be able to see out.
Gina looked at her watch and decided it was about time to return to the bank, when a trashy-looking woman with jet-black hair opened the door of the house. The woman walked down the front steps and got into one of the Beamers. Gina watched as she backed the car out of the driveway. She wasn’t sure what to do. Gina wanted to follow her, but she needed to get back to work soon. She let the stranger drive off and then headed out of the neighborhood herself to get back to work. Gina wondered who the woman was. Maybe David was married. But he didn’t have a wedding ring on the day she met him. He could just be living with someone. That woman, with her long, scraggly hair and black spandex, didn’t look like his type. Maybe it wasn’t even the right house. She’d have to check it out again and also stake out the house in Reston as soon as she had the chance.
When Gina walked back into the bank, Linda looked surprised to see her. “Wow. You’re almost on time. Are you feeling okay?”
Gina smiled at her and pulled out her chair to sit down. Her “career improvement plan” was still up on the computer screen. She sighed and closed the document without saving it. All she had was the title anyway.
“I was looking through my mail a few minutes ago and guess what arrived?” asked Linda.
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“Just a little reminder about our class reunion next month.”
“Shoot, I forgot all about it,” Gina lied, not wanting to appear to be anticipating it too greatly. They sent out the reunion notice six months earlier, and Gina received the actual invitation a few weeks ago. She was more excited about it than she wanted Linda to know, and despite all the craziness lately, she had still been thinking about it quite a bit.
The Gina who was going to walk into the reception hall at the Omni Shoreham hotel for her ten-year reunion was a completely different Gina than the one who graduated from Tenley High School ten years ago. This Gina had it together. Well, as far as any of her old classmates would know, she had it together. There was no reason they had to know she was on the verge of getting fired, was fornicating with old fat guys, and spent her lunch breaks stalking strangers.
Since high school Gina had filled out nicely from the lanky teenager she used to be. Her hair was much longer, and the highlights Dennis added made it a more distinct luxurious shade of blond, and she was much better at applying makeup (thanks to Dennis as well). She hoped her nose job was subtle enough that no one would notice. Gina was glad she decided against the boob job. She didn’t have much “up top,” but people would definitely notice if she’d gone up a few cup sizes, and she didn’t want any snickering behind her back. Besides, that would have only added to the outrageous Visa bill she was already paying every month. Thank God her grandmother barely charged her any rent for her apartment. Otherwise, between her own expenses and helping Shirley out from time to time, she wouldn’t have any money at all.
Sitting down in her chair, Gina figured all she had to do was buy a killer dress to wear to the reunion and convince Peter to go as her date.
“Do you want to go shopping this weekend?” Gina asked Linda.
“Sure. What for?”
“What do you mean, what for? To find something to knock ’em dead with at the reunion. Something to make muffs like Annie Harrison envy us to hell,” Gina replied as the name “Annie Harrison” registered in her mind. What was she going to do about Annie? She hadn’t thought about the reunion when she scrambled out of Annie’s apartment while she was in the shower. What would she say to her? Maybe Annie wouldn’t be there. After all, she was looking pretty haggard. Gina decided to put it out of her mind. She did a stupid thing, and there wasn’t much she could do about it. If Annie was there, she would just briefly acknowledge her and pretend nothing ever happened. Annie would only embarrass herself if she brought up the incident anyway, so a confrontation wasn’t likely.
Malling
Gina and Linda were waiting on the platform for the subway train to come. They decided to take the Metro out to the Fashion Centre at Pentagon City, a semi-upscale mall in Virginia, not even a mile outside the District. The subway stopped right underneath it. Aside from the trendy shops in Georgetown, there really weren’t too many places to do any major shopping in D.C.—at least not anymore. It was very upsetting to Gina and her grandmother when they closed Garfinkel’s department store years ago. They had done most of their shopping there for years. A few years later the downtown Woodward and Lothrop flagship store was closed as well. Gina actually shed a tear or two when she read an article in The Washington Post about how employees with the most seniority each received a crystal from the chandelier that used to hang over the main level of the store. She hated that about D.C. She remembered visiting the major shopping districts of New York and San Francisco. It was kind of embarrassing—in the nation’s capital there was only one major department store left, and even many District residents didn’t want to be bothered with it. It just made more sense to commute to the ’burbs, where parking was plentiful and there was a greater selection of stores.
“I’m not sure what kind of dress to get. I want it to be a knockout, but I don’t want any of those losers to think I went to too much trouble to look good for them.”
“Gina, you look fine in a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. What are you so worried about?”
“I’m not worried about anything. I just want to look good. I want to look like a success. I hope all the muffs gained weight a
nd look frumpy and fat. I’m going to make a point of standing next to the fattest one.”
“Where did all this vengeance come from?” Linda said, laughing.
“I honestly don’t know. I just want to feel superior to them. I spent my whole high school career feeling inferior and wanting to be like them. I guess I want to turn the tables a little,” Gina said as she and Linda boarded the Metro.
Gina didn’t care for riding the Metro. Every time she got on the subway she had flashbacks of riding to work with her mother during one of the phases when Shirley actually had some tinge of maternal instinct and wasn’t punting Gina off to her grandmother. When she was just a child, Shirley would drag her to work because she couldn’t (or wouldn’t) pay a baby-sitter. They had to take the subway from Cleveland Park to the business district where Shirley worked at a convenience store. Gina would sit in the back of the shop and do her homework or watch television while her mother barely grunted at customers as she took their money and ineptly bagged their groceries.
When Gina and her mother would board the subway, there were never any seats left, and they would both have to stand all the way to their stop. One day they saw a pregnant woman get on the train with them, and a young man got up and offered his seat to her. Next thing Gina knew, every afternoon before they left for work, her mother was stuffing a throw pillow under her shirt before they left the apartment. Gina wasn’t sure exactly how old she was at the time. But she was definitely old enough to be mortified by her mother’s actions. Funny thing was that it worked only every once in a while. Much of the time no one offered their seat to the “pregnant” Shirley. Again Gina was old enough to know why. People were more apt to offer their seat to respectable-looking women who probably planned their pregnancy. They weren’t as eager to help a saucy-looking twenty-something who probably got knocked up by some guy she hardly knew. That was just the look her mother had about her. Actually, it was kind of her whole persona. She radiated brash sexuality even though she came from an upper-middle-class family who lived in one of the most prestigious neighborhoods in the District. Luckily, Gina had to make this trek for only a few months before Shirley once again decided being a mother was more than she could handle and sent Gina back to live with her grandmother. This was shortly before Shirley quit her job at the convenience store and started her three-week stint as an Avon lady. Unfortunately, people were about as eager to buy cosmetics from her as they were to offer her a seat on the subway.
Gina and Linda got off the Metro and took the escalators up to the mall.
“Why don’t we hit Nordstrom first?”
On their way, Linda spotted Peter in Brentano’s. He was standing in front of one of the shelves and flipping through a large book.
“Look, there’s Peter,” she said, pointing toward the bookstore.
“What’s he doing here already? We’re not supposed to meet him for a couple of hours.”
“Well, let’s go in and say hi.”
They strolled into the store and snuck up behind Peter. Gina approached him first and gave his behind a little squeeze. Peter wasn’t startled at all. He smiled and turned around. “What are you doing?” he said, suddenly looking surprised—as if he were expecting someone other than Gina to be standing there. “Gina, what are you doing here?”
“Scouring for nuts and berries,” Gina replied sarcastically. “Shopping, you moron. What do you think we’re doing?”
Peter seemed a little nervous as he put Symptoms and Illness back on the shelf. His tongue wasn’t feeling exactly right lately. It seemed rougher, or drier, or something to him lately, so he was trying to find some information about it in the medical section, when Gina and Linda arrived.
“What are you doing here so early? You hate shopping,” Linda asked.
“I came with a friend. She wanted me to tag along to help her find a gift for her boss.”
“You’re still going to dinner with us, aren’t you?” Gina inquired.
“Yep. I’ll meet you at the restaurant at six.”
“Okay, we’ll see you later,” Linda said, getting ready to continue on to Nordstrom.
“Wait a sec, Linda,” Gina said before looking at Peter. “Who are you here with? Should we invite them to dinner?”
Before Peter had a chance to answer, Cheryl rounded the corner.
“I’d love to come to dinner,” Cheryl said with a big smile. “How are you guys?” she asked Gina and Linda in an excited voice, as if they were good friends she hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Pretty good,” Linda replied while Gina just ignored her and rolled her eyes at Peter.
“We’ll see you at six, Peter,” Gina said to Peter as if Cheryl were invisible. She gestured to Linda, and they left the bookstore to continue their shopping.
Dalump
Cheryl was driving down Arlington Boulevard, headed toward Falls Church. She had just left the mall and was still upset about her run-in with Gina at the bookstore. Of course, she didn’t dare let on that it bothered her. She didn’t know how to react on the rare occasions that she crossed paths with Gina, so sometimes she put on a bright smile and talked to Gina as if they were still friends. She figured that being friendly would probably annoy Gina more than anything else. Cheryl didn’t even let on to Peter that she was upset. She was afraid word would get back to Gina if she did. She just shrugged her shoulders as Gina and Linda left the store and tried to pretend that it didn’t bother her.
God! Was what I did so horrible? I was drunk, for heaven’s sake. It wasn’t like I planned it. And it’s been years. You would think Gina would have forgiven me by now, Cheryl thought to herself, truly sad that Gina was no longer a part of her life. Cheryl certainly had other friends to hang out with, and there was always Peter. But it was so rare that she met people on her own wavelength—someone with whom she could really connect the way she did with Gina. She had always assumed that the whole feud with Gina would eventually blow over, but it had been going on for so long, Cheryl was surprised either one of them even remembered what caused it.
Cheryl took in a deep breath and tried to erase the incident with Gina from her mind. She wanted to be relaxed when she met Louis. She drove into the Red Lobster in Falls Church with only a little apprehension. She knew she probably should have at least talked to him on the phone before agreeing to meet him, but he seemed so nice in their e-mail exchanges, and once she got his picture she was sold—the man was a looker. Besides, Cheryl figured that even if his personality was a dud, his hard body might be good for some no-nonsense sex. And, on top of that, it might be nice to flaunt a little eye candy in front of Peter.
When she got inside the restaurant, the fishy smell was a bit overwhelming. She found it odd that a restaurateur, as Louis had described himself, would want to meet in a chain restaurant famous only for its fried fish. She was about to sit down at one of the benches in the lobby, when she saw Louis approach from outside. She wasn’t sure if the window was somehow distorting him, but something was odd about him—about the way he walked. It almost seemed as if one leg was significantly longer than the other. As she watched him walk through the threshold, dalump . . . dalump . . . dalump, she decided it was no big deal and she could just ignore it.
Yeah, she told herself. It’s no big deal. So what if one leg is shorter than the other? He’s still very cute. Maybe his “cuteness factor” has dropped five percent or so, but he really does look fine.
“Cheryl?” Louis asked, recognizing her from the picture she had e-mailed him.
“Yes. Hi. How are . . . ?” Cheryl tried to ask before Louis interrupted her.
“Good, good. Should we get a table? Why don’t we get a table? I like booths. Hopefully, they will give us a booth. Booths are so much more cozy, don’t you think? Better than those tables out in the open. I don’t like being out in the open like that,” Louis said very quickly and with purpose—like getting a booth at Red Lobster was his mission in life.
Cheryl followed him as they approached th
e hostess, dalump . . . dalump . . . dalump.
The hostess seated them and offered the menus, which Louis refused.
“I don’t need a menu. I know exactly what I want. I’ll have the Admiral’s Feast with a baked potato with butter and sour cream, and a garden salad with ranch dressing, and a Coke . . . and lots of croutons on the salad please,” Louis rattled off, his mouth going a mile a minute.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the young woman replied. “I’m just the hostess. Your waiter will be right with you.”
“Oh, okay,” he replied as Cheryl offered a bit of a confused expression at his eagerness to place his order, when she hadn’t even opened her menu. As Cheryl tried to give the menu a quick read, Louis lowered his voice.
“You know what?” he said with a grin.
“What?” Cheryl said, not sure she wanted to know.
“I knew that she was just the hostess, but sometimes I get them to take my order anyway and get my food really fast,” Louis said like a mischievous child. “You know when you have to wait for a waitress it takes so much longer. And some waitresses are so slow. I hate when I get a slow waitress, especially if I need my drink refilled. Ya know?”
“You must really like the food here,” Cheryl said, turned off by his loquacious manner and dropping his cuteness factor a few more percentage points.
“Oh, yeah, man. Have you had their cheddar bay biscuits? I just love their cheddar bay biscuits. And it’s a great value. You get the biscuits for free, and a salad comes with your dinner for no extra charge, and they put salt on the skins of the baked potatoes. Yeah, this is my favorite restaurant . . . and free refills on the drinks too,” Louis added as the waitress approached to take their order. Louis repeated his earlier order, and Cheryl asked for the Mainlander’s Chicken Salad and a Diet Coke.
Girlfriends Page 11