Authors: Deborah Brown
“I’m always busy. That’s why you only get in here with an appointment.” He closed the gates and wrapped them with a chain and a lock.
I had a hard time believing he had any break-ins. His business had electric fencing, with rolled barbed wire at the top, and two German shepherds.
“Weren’t you at The Cottages the other day?” he asked.
“Yes. Word has it you’re the neighborhood dealer,” I said, remembering what Joseph told me.
“People are full of shit. Besides, that would be a violation of my parole,” he stated evenly.
Parole
! I’ve always been good with follow up questions, but I shut up instantly. This was a good time to mind my own business. So I ended with a lame, “Well, there you go!”
“Zach said you’d need a ride. My car’s outside.” He motioned. “We’ll go through the office so I can set the alarm.”
“You have a lot of security. Is the neighborhood that bad?”
“Despite the way the neighborhood looks, it’s quiet. Security keeps the kids out. Anyone with a brain knows if they steal from me I’ll kill them.”
What do you say to that? Nothing. Nothing would be good.
We walked through the side door where a silver Mercedes convertible sat parked. “Great car.” I’d expected a pick-up truck complete with a gun rack in the back window.
“This is my babe magnet.”
“Do you want a woman because she’s hot for the car you drive?” I laughed.
“When I have sex on my mind, who cares if she’s thinking about me or my car?”
His smile made him look even more dangerous, if that were possible. “You can drop me at The Bakery Café,” I said.
He squealed out of the driveway, burning rubber. I grabbed onto the armrest, and held on until I thought my fingers would break, my other arm clutched to the seat. “Slow down,” I squeaked.
He rocketed down the street And showed no signs of slowing for the approaching corner.
How the hell was he going to make the turn
? I squeezed my eyes shut and said a quick prayer.
Oh please, I don’t want to die
. Spoon jerked on the wheel, and with another squeal of tires, the car swerved back and forth, managing to stay upright as we rounded the corner.
“You’re scaring me!” I yelled. “Pull over, let me out. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
“Don’t worry so much.”
“This is not Talladega, and you’re not Dale Jr.”
“Sit back. I’ll get you to the restaurant in one piece. You know, I wanted to be a pro driver.”
“If you don’t slow down, I’ll puke in your car,” I threatened.
He gave me a long hard stare. Mercifully, he slowed down. I knew from personal experience that sick stink was a smell you never get out of your car.
He pulled up in front of the café, slamming on the brakes, tires squealing. He turned to me and ran his finger across my cheek. “You ever have a problem, I’m your man. Friends call me the problem solver, big or small. Ask anyone.”
I was both terrified and repulsed. He’s a man who shouldn’t smile. I wanted out of the car. I fumbled with the handle, and couldn’t get the door open. It was locked and Spoon controlled them. I couldn’t unlock them on my own.
“You’re my kind of woman. I think we’d be great together,” he said, putting his hand on my arm. “Let’s go to dinner, and get to know one another better.”
I jerked on the door again, and blurted, “I have a boyfriend.”
“If you break up, give me a call,” he said, looking me up and down. “I got a good feeling about us.” He pushed a button and the locks flew up.
I yanked the door open, jumped out of the car. “Thanks for the ride.” I forced myself to walk calmly into the café.
Chapter 8
I opened my front door, and was surprised to see my mother. “You’re back!” I hugged her.
“I got home yesterday,” she smiled. “I thought I’d drive down and surprise you, and take you to dinner. We can catch up and you can tell me how the estate is going.”
“Dinner’s a good idea. I missed you.”
Mother looked summery and cool in a white linen dress, and red belt. I got my love of dress-up from my mother. I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t fashionable.
“How’d the move go?”
“Very easy, at least for me,” she laughed. “I hired a moving organizer who supervised all the details. Her men came in, packed up everything and clearly marked each box. When we arrived in Coral Gables, they unpacked the furniture and boxes and put them in all of the right rooms. Having done many moves on my own, I consider this the best one. I kept your things separate.”
“I appreciate you doing that for me. I’ll get some muscle to come up to your place and move it down here.”
“You didn’t have very much. What happened to all of your possessions? Tell me Dickhead didn’t get everything in the divorce.”
“It’s just stuff, Mother.” I’d said those words to myself constantly from the start of the divorce until it was final. I’d managed to hide away a few favorite items that Dickhead never found.
“You had more going into the marriage,” she insisted.
“In the end, I had to decide if I wanted my freedom or a fight.”
“I could’ve gotten you a top lawyer.”
“You can’t blame my lawyer. He came highly recommended. He advised me of my options, and most of them were dismal. The last thing I wanted was a long, drawn-out fight. Trust me when I tell you that Dickhead would’ve been willing to do battle over every piece of silverware and he would’ve enjoyed himself.”
“You should’ve let me help you.”
“I love you for offering, but I needed to do this for myself.” I drew the line at him humiliating me in front of my family any further. Once I made up my mind about getting the divorce, it was all about my freedom. My only regret is that it didn’t come sooner.
Changing the subject, Mother said, “I’m going to love Coral Gables. Now that the three of us will be living close to one another again, life is good, and we’ll be as close as ever.
“Come on. Let’s go and have some fun,” she offered. “My new goal is to encourage you to enjoy life more.”
“Don’t worry so much. I’m meeting new people and I think I’ll find plenty of excitement.”
“Tell me over dinner. I’m hungry.”
“Let’s go to The Beach House and sit outside overlooking the water,” I suggested. “The view is incredible, and they have the best key lime pie in town.”
* * *
The hostess showed us to a table outside. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Jack, straight up,” Mother ordered.
“Iced tea, please.” I pointed to what looked like cigarettes. “What are those?”
“Hand rolled cigars.” She held one out. “I wanted a change from a regular cigarette.”
“Oh Mother, you’re too much,” I laughed. “I’m glad you’re back.”
We gossiped about mutual friends, wondered when Brad would be getting a new girlfriend, talked over the events of the last couple of weeks. I’d missed Mother more than I thought. I won’t take one moment of time with my family for granted.
The cool breeze off the blue-green waters of the Atlantic made sitting outside the perfect choice. Waves rolled up on the white sand, while egrets and pelicans walked along the shore in search of their own dinner. I noticed my mother fixating on something directly over my shoulder, a pleased, cat-like smile on her face. I knew Zach was standing behind me.
Zach leaned down and kissed my cheek. “How’s my girlfriend?” he whispered in my ear.
Did he say girlfriend
? My cheeks turned red and I was suddenly flustered.
“Introduce us, Madison,” Mother said with a huge smile on her face.
How was I going to explain Zach? “This is my mother, Madeline Westin,” I introduced. “Zach Lazarro, a friend of Elizabeth’s.”
“Join us, Zach,” mother said. “How did you know my sister?”
“Elizabeth was a family friend. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Then after a brief pause, “So how did you meet Madison?” Mother seemed puzzled. “I don’t remember seeing you at the funeral.”
“I’m sorry I was out of town at the time and didn’t find out until I got back. I stopped by the house to offer my condolences.”
“You’re kissing my daughter. There must be more to the story than that.”
“Mother, please.” I knew there was no stopping her from asking questions. “Zach is just being nice.”
“Actually, I stopped by to ask your daughter out for dinner tomorrow night.” He rubbed the back of my neck.
“She’d love to go,” Mother answered.
“Really, Mother, I can accept my own date.” I didn’t want to have this conversation in front of her. “I’m busy.” I stared at her, willing her to stop embarrassing me.
She shook her head, “You are not. She’s just acting shy. She’d love to go.”
He winked at me. “I’ll pick you up early. We’ll take a drive through the Keys.”
They were both clearly pleased with themselves. Neither one noticed that I’d said ‘no’. I wanted to go on the date, but not one arranged by my mother.
“Would you like a cigar, Zach?”
“No thanks.”
“At least join us for a drink.” Mother motioned to the waiter. “Another Jack, please.” Zach ordered a beer, but I passed. I needed to be sober for what was coming next.
“Tell me about yourself,” Mother said to Zach.
“Mother, stop.”
“I don’t mind,” Zach interjected.
I shook my head. “You’re crazy,” I whispered. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Madison, please, I just want to get to know a little about the man you’re dating.”
“One date is not dating. Besides, aren’t these questions you should ask
before
accepting for me? When you find out he’s homeless and unemployed, will you also cancel for me?”
“Ignore her, Zach. I’m always interested in any man my daughter dates.”
“Mother, maybe when I was in high school. I’m a grown woman, a divorced woman.”
“Have you been married, Zach?”
“Yes, married and divorced.”
“Look, you do have something in common,” Mother said.
“Divorce. That’s nice. Does your family refer to your ex as ‘Dickhead’, Zach?”
Zach laughed. “No, I can’t say I’ve ever heard anyone say that.”
“What do you do for a living?” Mother asked.
“What she means is, can you afford to pay for dinner?” I said.
Zach pulled me close, and kissed my cheek. “I can answer these questions. Trust me,” he whispered in my ear.
We looked at one another and laughed. I relaxed and sat back and resumed normal breathing.
I listened as my mother fired her questions. He gave the briefest responses to each one, giving her absolutely no information.
He’s good
, I thought. Way better at the ‘no info’ answer than I am.
I tuned out of the conversation, and started thinking about our upcoming date. I was excited. I heard Elizabeth’s name and realized the personal questions were over, and they had moved on.
When Zach’s phone rang, he stepped away to answer the call. He said a few words and came back. “One of my clients has had an interruption in service and I need to go check on the building. It was very nice to meet you, Madeline.” He kissed her cheek and turned to me. “I’ll pick you up at 6:00.” His lips briefly touched mine.
“I like him,” Mother said as he walked away.
“I like him too, but I don’t want you setting up dates for me.”
“You were going to decline. You know damn well you’re not busy, now are you?”
“That’s not the point,” I said.
She looked at me. “What’s wrong with you? You want to go, and you’re going. What else matters? I bet you have a good time.”
She’s right. I did want to go.
Chapter 9
I was running behind when I raced through the French doors, rushed up the stairs, hurled myself into the shower and jumped out in record time. I didn’t have the patience to tame my hair, and decided on wild curls.
I’d spent the day getting ready for my date, had my nails done in a French manicure, and my toes painted a bright pink. I managed a quick stop at my favorite clothing store, where I’d found a great black dress. I put on a lacy push-up bra and matching boy shorts, stepped into my dress, and checked myself out in the mirror. I was probably overdressed but didn’t care.
I transferred a few things to a mother-of-pearl purse I’d found in a second hand shop, wondering yet again why anyone would give it away because it was so unusual. I added crystal earrings and a bracelet that completed my look, checked myself again in the mirror and this time decided I was definitely overdressed.
I rummaged through the closet, and pulled out a green flowered tropical dress, then a black skirt that was far too business-like. I tried on a dozen outfits, threw them in a pile on the bed, and decided to wear my original choice. I slipped in and out of several pairs of shoes before choosing my favorite black slides.
A friend once told me a great tan trumps average looks. If that were true then I was well on my way. Though I’m allergic to the gym, I do like biking and swimming, and my body looked good.
I heard Zach’s knock and my stomach started doing cartwheels. When I opened the front door, he looked me over from head to toe, and gave me a seductive smile. “Very nice,” he said, reaching out and pulling me into a kiss.
He looked totally delicious in black linen shorts, a short-sleeved tropical silk shirt, and boat shoes.
“I thought we’d drive down to Sand Dollar Isle,” he said, helping me into his Escalade. “They have an excellent Mexican restaurant there. You’ll like the food.” He reached across and took my hand in his.
The Tortilla Bar was an old adobe structure that hung out over an inlet of water that flowed to and from the gulf. The outside had leftover Christmas decorations everywhere and ropes of lights around the building and in every tree. The bar was loud, noisy and full of people. To the side were a pool table and darts, while the noise from big screen televisions competed with a jukebox and a pinball machine.
We sat in front of a large window and ordered margaritas.
“Why does Spoon think you’re my girlfriend?” he asked straight out.