How My Summer Went Up in Flames (23 page)

When Miranda called early this morning to confirm our meeting, she said she heard from Joey’s counsel that his nose is, in fact, broken. But technically, since it was no one’s fault, no one is in trouble. Yet. My court date is Thursday, so we’ll see.

I called Avery last night to fill her in on everything from San Diego to the guitar-case attack on Joey’s nose. I also wanted to run an idea by her. Regardless of what
happens Thursday, I know I’ve got a karmic debt to repay (seeing my dad’s shocked, pale face at the airport when he saw Joey’s nose really brought that point home), and I’ve got a two-part plan for how to do it. Avery loved what I came up with, and she even offered to fly in for my court appearance. It was sweet of her to offer, but I didn’t want her to spend that kind of money. She just laughed and said, “In case you haven’t noticed, my family is loaded.” I told her to save the trip to New Jersey for a happier occasion.

Mom knocks on my door just as I click on a photo of me and Logan—the one Matty took of the two of us sitting on the edge of the Grand Canyon.

“Come in,” I say.

She comes over to my bed and peers at the screen. I consider closing the photo before she sits down but don’t.

“Nice picture,” she says. It is.

I can tell she’s worried that I’ve fallen crazy in love again. I haven’t. Even if I had, I’m determined not to contact Logan until I work out some things or he contacts me, whichever comes first. In the words of both Spencer and Yoda, “Stalk no more, I will not.”

I push my laptop aside and throw my arms around my
mom. She’s nothing short of stunned. “I’m so sorry, Mom. For everything I put you and Dad through.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We love you . . . just don’t do it again.”

She laughs, but I know she means it. If she didn’t see my hug coming, this is going to knock her flip-flops off.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“I think I might like to go into fashion design. I’m going to take drawing as my elective this year, and I want to learn how to sew.”

“I think that’s a great idea,
mija
,” Mom says. “Abuelita would love to show you, and you know your father has some machines at the factory, for small detail work. You can practice there.”

Now I’m the one who’s shocked. “I thought you would laugh at me.”

Mom puts her hands on my shoulders and leans back to look at me. “What? You don’t think I remember Rosie Couture?”

I tilt my head and smile. “You were my best client.”

“And biggest fan.” Mom cups my face in her hands like I’m six again.

“Well, as long as that didn’t surprise you, I’ve got something else I want to talk to you about.” This time I put my hands on her shoulders.

“I’m listening.”

“It can wait until after we see Steve Justice today. I want Dad to be there too.”

She kisses the top of my head. “More coffee?”

“Definitely.”

“I’ll put a pot on. Meet me in the kitchen.”

“I’m going to be better, Mom. Wait and see.”

“We don’t want you to be better, Rosie. Just happy.”

 • • •

Steve Justice opens a bottle of Tums and shakes four into his palm. He’s a thin guy, fortyish, with a friendly, elflike face. He started off all smiles, but I think I’m giving him agita. I’ve just finished running down the chain of events leading up to Joey’s arrival at the airport and Spencer’s guitar accidentally breaking my ex’s nose. Poor Steve. I’m too much for him. I wonder if this will cost my dad more money.

Miranda is seated at the conference table with us in Steve’s office. She’s younger than I thought she’d be, early twenties maybe, with greenish-blue eyes and pretty auburn hair that she’s wearing in a neat French braid.

“The good news is,” Miranda says, “we’ve found an eyewitness. The neighbor I told you about? Lucky for us, she’s a big fan of the
Late Late Show
. She saw Joey on the night of the fire.”

Miranda goes on to explain that the neighbor watched Joey walk over to the burning box and attempt to snuff out the fire with his baseball cap. According to the neighbor, when flames engulfed his cap, Joey looked panicked and flung it. She said it sailed through the open car window and landed on the driver’s seat of Joey’s Mustang. The faux fur seat covers ignited instantly.

“And get this,” Miranda continues. “The neighbor lady said he retrieved a fire extinguisher from the house, but then, instead of using it immediately, he stood there and watched the car burn for a while. The neighbor said she was getting nervous about the flames reaching the gas tank and was about to dial 911 when he finally put the fire out.”

That bastard!

“So I wasn’t responsible for totaling his car. How cool is that?” I’m all excited.

“It would be a lot cooler if you hadn’t also continued to stalk him,” Steve says drily.

Stalk, schmalk. Joey is such a wuss. I did what most kids
my age do when they break up. It’s not all that easy to let go.

“So you think Joey wanted his car totaled?” Dad asks. “Does this qualify as insurance fraud?”

“It’s possible,” Steve says. “We’re certainly going to bring the matter up with his attorney. I have a call in to her already.”

“That is awesome!” I say. “Do you think he’ll drop everything?”

“Don’t get too excited,” Steve says. “You still might be looking at community service for the TRO violations.”

I kinda figured that might be the case. That’s why I came up with my two-part plan.

“I just hope they don’t press any charges against Spencer. The nose wasn’t his fault.”

“So far, no news is good news,” Miranda says.

I’m still nervous. Joey tried to pin the torched car on me, so it’s possible his mommy is looking for someone to blame for breaking his nose. Especially if he needs plastic surgery.

“Now then,” Steve says. “Let’s talk about Thursday.”

Steve reviews court procedure so I’ll know what to expect, and after he answers all our questions, we say our good-byes.

“I don’t know about anybody else,” Dad says as we leave Steve’s office, “but I could go for pizza.”

Emotional eating. No mystery where I get it from.

“Let’s get takeout,” I say. “I’ve got something I want to run by you both, and I want Matty to be there.”

Matty and my brother are sitting on our back deck when we pull into the driveway. I help Dad carry the food, and Mom walks toward the kitchen door.

“It’s a nice night,” she says. “I’ll grab some paper plates and napkins and we can eat out here.”

The five of us sit around the glass-top patio table, making short work of the pizzas, antipasto, and bread sticks. Pony is at my feet waiting for me to slip him my crust, and if I didn’t have to make an appearance in court in thirty-six hours, all would feel right with the world.

“So, Dad,” I say as we’re finishing dinner and Mom breaks out the ice cream. “I’ve been thinking about what Steve said about community service. Maybe . . . well, could you use some help at the factory?”

My dad questions me with his eyebrows. “You’re saying you want to work for me, for free? It’s a nice gesture, but I don’t think that counts as community service.”

“No, no, this is more of an idea I had. I’d like to start a class.”

“Class? What kind of class?” Dad asks.

“Not a class, really. More like a group. An English conversation
group. You know, so nonnative speakers can practice their skills? I know I’m not a teacher or anything, but I’m almost bilingual. Do you think some of your employees would be interested?”

Eddie looks dumbfounded. “Hey, Matty, what’d you do with Rosie? Did you leave her in New Mexico? Nice job finding a replacement, though. Looks just like her.”

Mom shakes her head at Eddie and puts her hand on mine. “That’s a great idea, honey. Your grandparents would have loved to have something like that when they came here. English can be so confusing.”

I nod in agreement, then stick out my tongue at Eddie, just to make sure he knows it’s me and not my angelic twin. “I was thinking I could start with some practical phrases like ordering from a menu or going to the bank. Then maybe some small talk, like about celebrities and pop culture? I did a little research online. There are actually lesson plans out there, and I found out the library runs a similar eight-week course. I’m gonna stop by there tomorrow. Get some tips.”

“Do you even know where the library is?” Eddie asks in fake awe.

“Enough,” Dad says. “Tell you what. Put together a
plan and I’ll see if anyone is interested. But it will have to be on their time. Lunch breaks or after hours.”

“Got it,” I say.

“Good.” Dad’s not letting on how proud he is that I came up with this idea, but I can see it in his eyes, and that’s all that matters.

“Hey, maybe me and Spencer could help out too? We’re looking for a community service project to do for our junior year,” Matty says.

“That would be great, Matty,” I say. “Thank you. I know I don’t say it enough, but you are the best.”

Matty’s cheeks go red, and Mom raises her Diet Coke. “To Matty.”

We all click plastic cups.

Even though I didn’t get to work at the bridal shop, and the dog-walking business fell by the wayside, I’m excited about the summer that’s emerging from the ashes. I wasn’t always the kind of girl who wakes up early on a summer day and heads to the library to gather information on how to teach an ESL class. But tomorrow, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. First, I’ve got explain to everyone that my plan includes a part two.

Thursday, July 9. My much-dreaded court date
has arrived. I’m seated in the front row of the courtroom. Steve Justice is to my right, by the aisle. Mom, Dad, Eddie, Matty, Spencer, and Lilliana are to my left—we take up the entire first row. We’re turning a TRO appearance into an afternoon at the theater.

We wait for the judge to take the bench, and each time someone new comes into the courtroom, the doors swings open and bangs dramatically against the wall. They could really use a stopper or a heavier door.

Aside from rattling my nerves, the noise also makes me glance nervously over my shoulder to see who’s arriving. Part of me hopes I won’t see Joey or anyone in his family (so far, so good), and part of me keeps expecting Logan,
although I don’t know why. We just left him in Arizona. Plane tickets are expensive, and his classes have started. I know Spencer has been in touch with his brother about the whole “airport incident,” but I haven’t heard a word from him. Not one. Granted, I haven’t gotten a new cell phone yet, but he’s a smart guy; if he wanted to reach me, he could. It’s okay, though. I didn’t have time this week to let it bother me. I spent most of yesterday working on my lesson plans.

Finally, the judge enters the courtroom and we all stand.

“Please be seated,” she says. She puts on her reading glasses and opens a file. I’m not the only one in court today: There are numerous traffic violations and another TRO appearance, which is the first case on the docket. When the judge calls the defendant in that case, the complaining witness decides to drop the allegations, saying she was mistaken when she said her husband had hit her and threatened to kill her. I’m afraid for her. The judge looks doubtful and disappointed but adjourns the case nonetheless. After sitting through appearances on DUIs, speeding tickets, and parking violations, it’s finally my turn.

My underarms are sweaty and I can feel the redness starting in my face and spreading all over my body as the bailiff announces my case.
State of New Jersey v. Rosalita
Ariana Catalano.
The judge is the first to speak.

“We are here today to decide if this temporary restraining order will become permanent. The defendant, Ms. Catalano, will have a chance to dispute the allegations. After that, I will make my decision. I’ve read your evidence in this case, Mr. Justice,” Judge Tomlinson says. “I understand you’re prepared to call a witness.”

“Yes, Your Honor, we are.”

I turn around and see Joey’s elderly neighbor in the back row. She’s all dressed up and rocking a nice shade of pink lipstick. She waves at Steve when he glances her way.

I’m relieved Joey and his parents didn’t show. Steve explained beforehand that they weren’t required to be here. Joey’s probably not making any public appearances until his nose heals. No one ever said he wasn’t vain.

Anyway, this is my day in court, an opportunity for me to answer the allegations in the temporary restraining order. I hope the judge appreciates my honesty and sincerity and goes easy on me. I don’t know what I’ll do if the temporary order becomes permanent. Staying away from Joey won’t be the hard part, since we go to different schools, but it might get awkward for Eddie, Matty, and Spencer. Come September, they’ll see Joey every day. Not
to mention, being a girl under a restraining order won’t garner me any votes for prom queen this year. I’ll be lucky to get a date.

“Well, then, Mr. Justice,” the judge says. “Shall we hear from your witness?”

That’s when the prosecutor, an attractive older woman, stands up.

My palms are sweating and my entire body feels hot as I stare at the judge and wonder how this is all going to play out. I’m on the edge of losing it when the prosecutor speaks. “Your Honor, that won’t be necessary. We have approved a request made by Mr. Marconi’s attorney that the allegations against Ms. Catalano be dropped.”

At that moment, it seems like my entire row lets out a collective sigh of relief. I turn to Steve, who’s grinning big, like the Cheshire cat. I have the urge to high-five him, but I keep my glee in check.

This is exactly what we were hoping for! Steve contacted Joey’s attorney and informed her that he was reaching out to the insurance company responsible for paying the claim submitted by Joey’s parents for the totaled car. Steve also said once our eyewitness had testified, he would make the claims adjuster aware of her testimony as well. If Joey’s
mom had been attempting to commit fraud, Steve figured that would be enough to make them drop their petition for a permanent restraining order, and Steve was right.

The courtroom goes quiet again as the judge is about to speak. “Well, then, as much as I’d like to adjourn this case and grab an early lunch today, I for one am not willing to excuse Ms. Catalano’s clear violations of the TRO while it was in place. Violations, I might add, that Mr. Marconi made the court aware of through counsel.” She’s looking at Joey’s attorney when she says that last part.