In the Age of Love and Chocolate

by Gabrielle Zevin

  “Have you gone off Brooklyn again?” Mr. Delacroix said. We had been discussing the possibility of a second Dark Room in Brooklyn for a while.

  “No. But last night, my brother was saying how he’d like to work for the club, and the day before that, at Mr. Kipling’s funeral, Simon Green made a similar request.” I looked at Mr. Delacroix. “He wanted your job, actually.”

  “He should have it then,” Mr. Delacroix said. “The hours are brutal. And the boss is demanding.”

  “Sometimes,” I continued, “Fats asks me about jobs for Family guys, too. The black market chocolate business has been bad these last couple of months.”

  “Who can say why?” Mr. Delacroix asked. “This isn’t your responsibility.”

  “Maybe not, but I think about it. And then, last night, I was talking to you”—I pointed to Theo—“and my sister, and we were joking about Dark Rooms in Canada and Paris—basically places Theo and Natty want to visit. And we had a good laugh. But this morning, I thought, why not? Why open one more location when you can open ten?”

  “Oh dear,” Mr. Delacroix said.

  “Could we do it, Mr. Delacroix? Could we have a franchise?”

  “You sound like you’re asking me for a puppy.”

  “I’m not asking your permission,” I said coolly.

  “I didn’t think you were. But by God, I’d hate to see what you look like when you don’t get what you want for Christmas.”

  “I’ve never gotten what I want for Christmas, Mr. Delacroix. I’m used to disappointment.”

  “What about the year I gave you the machete?” Theo asked.

  “Except for that,” I said. “What I want to know, Mr. Delacroix, is if it’s possible for us to raise enough money.”

  “Yes, but it’s not only about the money. It’s the logistics—the peculiarities of regional government and laws, the regional scarcity of certain resources and supplies, the particular tastes and habits of the locals, and much more,” Mr. Delacroix said. “Whatever you do, you definitely shouldn’t attempt this abroad. Domestic locations only. And technically you don’t mean ‘franchise.’ You’re talking about a chain.”

  Chain sounded so much less glamorous. “What I’m asking you, Theo, is could we use the same menu for all our locations, and could we get enough cacao to supply them?”

  “If you wanted Granja to supply it, we would have to get more land, though I could investigate other suppliers,” Theo said. “As for the menu? Yes, it is refined, and I believe it will translate to many different venues.”

  “Anya,” Mr. Delacroix said. “This is a bold proposition, and as such, I approve of it. But you should know it’s an enormously risky one, too.”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t get in this to be small. You once told me that the only real way to change this world was to be giant.”

  “Did I?”

  “You did.”

  “Sounds like hubris.”

  Theo said we needed drinks. He went to get them, leaving Mr. Delacroix and me alone at the table.

  “We can do this,” Mr. Delacroix said. “And I will help you. But why not sit back and enjoy your success for a while?”

  “Because what fun would that be?” I said.

  “I don’t know. Some girls like hobbies and boyfriends and diversions of that nature.”

  “Mr. Delacroix, you have to understand. I feel responsibility toward the Family and my family, but even more than that, I believe in what we’ve done here. I want to make my business large enough to put a lot more people to work. Wouldn’t that be a very grand accomplishment?”

  “Grand. Yes, of course, it would be grand.” He laughed. “You do sound like me sometimes. A younger—obviously—more hopeful, comelier version of me.”

  I noticed the dark circles under his eyes, but I didn’t think they were the kind that came from one night’s lost sleep. Although the gesture was unlike me, I put my hand on his.

  “I know we don’t normally discuss such matters, but I was sorry to hear about your divorce,” I said.

  His eyes flashed anger and he pulled his hand away. “Is my dirty laundry public knowledge now?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry. Win told Natty. She told me.”

  “Frankly, Anya, I’d rather not…” he said.

  “Fine,” I said. “You are allowed to give me advice. You are allowed to offer opinions on everything in my life, but we can’t ever talk about anything to do with you.”

  He didn’t reply.

  “This is ridiculous, Mr. Delacroix. You are my friend.”

  “Can you be certain of that? Colleague, I will give you. I have many of them. But friend? You cannot be my friend, because I have no friends.”

  “Yes! It is not a usual friendship, but it is one. And you are mean to pretend that it isn’t. I’m an orphan, alone in the world, and I know very well who my friends are. So, yes, we are friends, Mr. Delacroix, and as your friend, I am allowed to offer sympathy when I can plainly see my friend is upset.”

  He stood. “If that’s all, I should go. I will begin looking for investors.”

  On his way back to the table, Theo passed Mr. Delacroix. “Bye, Delacroix,” Theo called, but Mr. Delacroix did not reply. “Where is he going?”

  “To get investors.”

  “Right this moment? It’s New Year’s Day.”

  I shrugged.

  Theo set the drinks on the table. “We are doing this, then?” Theo clinked his glass to mine, and then he leaned across the table to kiss me.

  “Whoa, Theo,” I said, pulling away.

  “What?”

  “Last night was last night, and this morning is this morning.”

  Theo took a drink. “As you like,” he said. “Let’s go eat. The club doesn’t open for hours, and I am sick to death of macaroni and peas.”

  * * *

  Toro Supper Club was in a ground-floor apartment in a housing project in Washington Heights. A leather-skinned gentleman with a jet-black curly mustache poked his head out the window and called, “Theo, my man! Good to see you!”

  “Dali, I brought Anya with me!” Theo yelled from the street.

  “It’s freezing out there,” Dali said. “Come inside.”

  Dali greeted Theo by kissing him on both his cheeks. “Anya,” Dali said, “I am an admirer of your club, but Theo didn’t say you were such a beauty.”

  For New Year’s, the supper club was serving breakfast, brunch, or maybe it was indeed a late supper for those who hadn’t yet made it home from the prior evening’s merriments. The scent emanating from the kitchen was familiar. It only took me a moment to place it. “Theo, how in the world did you find out how to get mole in Manhattan?” I asked.

  “Mole contains cacao, and Granja supplies it,” Theo said. “Besides, I am very popular in this city.”

  The restaurant only had three tables, and two of them were filled by the time we walked in. There were blue-and-white-checked tablecloths and votive candles in blue glass holders. A dried rose with a bent neck stood in a vase by the fireplace.

  The mole was perhaps not quite as good as it had been at Granja Mañana, but it was close. The flavor was delicious and spicy. My eyes began to water.

  “Anya,” Theo said, “you are crying. You really must have been starving.”

  “It’s the heat. I’ll be fine.” I waved my hand in front of my face. “I like the heat.”

  I ate three more bowls. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. Theo laughed at me as I sat and contemplated whether to go on to a fourth bowl.

  “I can’t do it,” I said finally. I pushed the bowl away and tried not to belch. I was so warm and satisfied; I barely knew what to do with myself.

  We couldn’t get a cab, so we walked the long way back to the club. It took hours, but we were young and strong and had the time to spare.

  “It’s not the safest walk,” I warned him. “But it’s daytime, and I do have my machete.”

  By the time we reached the southernmost side of Central
Park, it had begun to snow. I was a little cold, so when Theo put his arm over my shoulder, I let him.

  “Theo,” I said guiltily, “aren’t we better as friends?”

  “Who says we will not be friends because we kiss each other in the park every now and again?”

  I leaned in to kiss him but then I stopped myself. “You need to know: I don’t love you that way.”

  “What does it matter? I do not love you either. Let us have some fun together. I like you. You like me. No one has to say A-M-O-R or anything estúpido like that. We are both good-looking and alone. So why not?”

  Why not indeed?

  My breath probably stunk of chicken mole, but what difference did it make? Theo didn’t worship me. He didn’t think I was a princess. That is to say, he knew my breath did not always taste of mint chewing gum and cinnamon. I leaned over and kissed him hard. It is nice, on occasion, to kiss someone because he is cute and because it is fun and because it feels so good.

  VIII

  I ACQUIRE TWO ADDITIONAL ROOMMATES

  IN THE MONTHS SINCE SCARLET had had her baby, I’d seen her only a handful of times. Though she had attended the opening of my club, she’d left early, before any of the fun started. She had missed my New Year’s party because she’d spent the holiday with Gable’s parents. In an attempt to be a good godparent, I’d gone to Midnight Mass with her and Felix. But that was it. We didn’t have school to keep us together, and she lived a lot farther away than she used to—sixty-two more blocks.

  A couple of days after Easter, I found her sitting on the couch in my living room with Felix in her arms. She looked the same, pretty as ever, though she was skinnier than she had been before she’d had the baby. A fine wrinkle had taken up residency between her eyebrows. “Gable’s gone,” she said. “His parents blame me, and I can’t stay there anymore.”

  “Where did Gable go?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “We were fighting constantly. He hated his job at the hospital. His parents had been pressuring us to get married, but neither of us wanted to do it. And now he’s gone.”

  “Scarlet, I’m sorry.” I was sorry for Felix, if not particularly for Scarlet. I was sorry about the situation, but I wasn’t surprised. Given enough time, Gable Arsley always managed to live up to his last name.

  “Could we stay here for a little while? I don’t want to live with my parents, and I can’t be at Gable’s with his mother hating me so much.”

  “Of course you can stay here.” Though truthfully, there were a lot of people currently in residence at my apartment: Noriko, Leo, Theo, and Natty when she was home. “You can use Natty’s room while she’s away.”

  “Also, I need to find work. I’ve been auditioning for plays a little bit. I’ve come close to getting cast a couple of times—”

  “Scarlet! That’s great.”

  “But with Gable gone, I know I can’t afford to wait around anymore. I need to figure out how to make money now.” She made a face. “I hate to ask, but would you give me a job at the club? A hostess or a waitress or whatever. I know I’m not qualified for anything else. If I had a job with tips and flexible hours, I could still audition now and then.”

  I sat down next to Scarlet. I was still awkward around Felix, but he climbed into my lap anyway.

  “Good,” Scarlet said. “Sit on your godmother. You’re getting too heavy for me, Felix.”

  “Hi, Felix,” I said.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Oh, he’s talking now,” I said. “Hi,” I said again.

  He waved and laughed at me.

  “The club can definitely take on another waitress, but won’t that be weird for you? I mean, I wish I had something better to offer you.”

  “There aren’t exactly a ton of jobs in this city, and I’m not proud. I can’t afford to be.”

  “Who will watch Felix while you’re at work? I’m not here a lot.”

  “No, I would never ask you to do that. My father can. Dad always tries to help. It’s really my mother who disapproves of me, which is why I can’t live there either.”

  “I’ll go back to Gable’s apartment with you to get your stuff and Felix’s, if you want.”

  She laughed. “I’m about to sound terrible. I know I’ve already asked you for so much. But would you … would you mind going alone? I don’t want to bring Felix back to Gable’s parents’ place. Everyone is so upset. I don’t want him in the middle.”

  At that moment, Theo came into the living room. “I will watch the baby,” he said, “and then you both will go.” He must have been eavesdropping.

  He walked over to the couch and scooped up Felix from my lap. “See. Los niños, they love me.” Felix was grabbing Theo’s mustache, which he had grown in the months since he’d moved to New York.

  He offered Scarlet his hand. “We have not met. I am Theo.”

  “Scarlet,” she said. “And he’s Felix.”

  “Ah, the best friend. I am Anya’s boyfriend.”

  Scarlet looked at me. “What? Since when do you have a boyfriend?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I said.

  “My English is not perfect,” Theo said. “I only mean I am a boy and I am her friend.”

  “I don’t understand,” Scarlet said. “Is he your boyfriend or isn’t he?”

  I sighed. “Who needs such labels? We should leave if you want to do this tonight.” I turned to Theo. “Also, Scarlet’s going to be your new waitress.”

  “Wait? What?” Theo said. “You are not bad to look at, but do you have any experience?”

  “I’m a fast learner,” she said with a smile.

  * * *

  Scarlet unlocked the door to Gable’s parents’ apartment. “Maybe they won’t be home,” she said.

  We went inside and no one was there. Scarlet told me to pack up the bedroom while she packed up the nursery. I threw her clothes into a suitcase and her makeup and jewelry into a box. I was nearly finished when I heard the door to the apartment open.

  “Scarlet?” a woman called. I recognized the voice as Gable’s mother.

  “In the nursery,” Scarlet replied.

  I set the suitcase and the box by the front door and went to wait just outside the nursery door. I thought there could be trouble so I wanted to keep close.

  “You can’t take our grandchild away!” Gable’s mother yelled.

  “I’m not taking him away. I would never do that. But we can’t live here anymore. It isn’t good for anybody. And it doesn’t make sense now that Gable is gone.”

  “Gable will come back,” his mother said. “He’s upset.”

  “No,” Scarlet said, “he’s not coming back. He told me he wasn’t, and I believe him.”

  “Gable is a good boy,” his mother insisted. “He wouldn’t leave the mother of his child.”

  “He did,” Scarlet said. “It’s been a month.”

  I was mildly shocked that Scarlet had waited an entire month before she’d told me about Gable leaving.

  “Well, you can’t take my grandson,” Gable’s mother repeated. “I won’t let you. I’ll call the police.”

  I went into the nursery. “Actually, she has every right to take your grandson.”

  “What is she doing here?” Gable’s mother was no great fan of mine.

  “Scarlet is the mother, and the city doesn’t automatically recognize grandparents’ rights,” I said.

  “Why should I believe you?” Gable’s mother asked. “You’re no lawyer. You’re some trashy girl who owns a club.”

  “The reason you should believe me is because trashy girls like me have hard lives.” I got right in Gable’s mother’s piggish face. “I’ve bounced around family and juvenile courts since I was a kid, and I know everything about everything when it comes to who gets custody of whom.”

  “It’s all your fault!” Gable’s mother yelled at me. “If you hadn’t poisoned him—”

  “I didn’t poison him. He ate bad chocolate. And your son was
a terrible boyfriend, so it comes as no surprise that he’s a terrible father and fiancé. Come on, Scarlet. We’re leaving.” Gable’s mother was blocking the door so I moved her out of the way.

  * * *

  It took forever to get a cab and almost as long to cram Scarlet’s possessions into the trunk and backseat. We rode uptown in silence. “Thank you,” she said, as the cab rounded the park. “I really appreciate you coming with me.”

  “I’m glad you called, though I can’t believe you waited a month to tell me Gable had left.”

  “Truthfully, I’ve been kind of mad at you,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “I guess it’s not entirely your fault, but we haven’t seen each other that much, and I’d read about your club in the paper and how well everything was going for you, and I’d feel pretty bitter. Like, I’d always tried to be a good person and a good friend and look how my life has turned out.”

  “You can’t think that way.”

  “Most of the time I don’t, but sometimes. And then I’d get mad because I felt like you’d moved on without me. And I felt like you had amazing new friends and you didn’t want me around.”

  “Scarlet, I’ve been busy, that’s all, and I know it’s difficult for you to make plans with the baby. If you had needed me, I would have been there.”

  Scarlet sighed. “I know, but that’s why it’s hard to be friends with you, I guess. Sometimes I would like to know that I’m needed, too. I mean, have you even missed me? We’ve spoken like three times this whole year.”

  I put my arm around her. “Scarlet, I’m sorry I’m not more … I’m sorry I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve.”

  “No, you definitely don’t. At one point, I actually made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t call you again until you called me. Do you know how long that went on?”

  I didn’t want to.

  “Four months.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m a bad friend.”

  “You’re not. You’re the best friend. You’re my best friend. But you do have your faults.”

  “I know.”

  “Oh, don’t have hurt feelings. What I actually wanted to say is I realize that I was being silly before. We may not see each other as much as we used to, but there is no one else I would have wanted to be with me tonight. And isn’t it funny? You can lose a boy—God knows we’ve both lost a few of those. But even if I wanted to, I know I could never lose you.”