The Orange Blossom Special Page 10

  “What went on in there?” asked Crystal.

  “When I looked at Eddie, all dead and stonelike, I noticed he was pointing three fingers at me, just like he did in school. That’s when I screamed and fell down. I could tell it was my dad trying to tell me something. Charlie knew what was happening. He came over and whispered that I was right, it was my dad. He was talking through Eddie, and Charlie said he knew what my dad was saying.”

  Crystal ran her hand up and down her neck as if she were trying to swallow Dinah’s words. “What did Charlie say he was saying?”

  “ ‘Let me be,’ that’s what my dad was trying to tell me. I know Charlie’s right about that.”

  Crystal thought about what she’d told her, about her mom talking to her dad, leaving him notes, asking his advice. She thought about Dinah and Eddie going on and on with their numbers every day. “Charlie knows about stuff like that,” she said. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe your dad just needs a break.”

  “I can see why,” said Dinah with a little laugh. Both girls walked toward the car and looked at Barone.

  “Oh, honey, this is my friend from work,” said Tessie, trying to sound casual. “His name is Barone Antonucci.”

  “That’s quite a name,” said Dinah.

  “Yeah, well, he’s just a friend. You all right?”

  “About what?”

  “You know, all that’s just happened?”

  “I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

  VICTORIA ARRIVED AT J. Baldy’s earlier than usual that morning. On a whim (“Whim, that’s the story of my life,” she liked to say) she’d picked up a couple of mangoes, some fresh strawberries, and a bunch of bananas. Jésus ran to help her with her bags as she walked through the door.

  “What is all this?”

  “I’ve been shopping!” she said.

  “Food?”

  “Why sure. What else would I buy?”

  Jésus was genuinely confused. In all the years she had talked about what she had bought, not once did it ever involve food.

  “It’s a beautiful Saturday morning,” she said, bursting with enthusiasm. “Perfect time for a party, don’t you think?”

  Victoria dumped the contents of her bags onto the receptionist’s desk.

  “I need a bowl, a knife, some water,” she announced. Delilah put down the crossword puzzle she was doing. Sonia stopped sweeping and the two of them opened drawers and rummaged through closets until they found exactly what she needed. Victoria peeled, sliced, and arranged the fruit in two stainless steel bowls that were usually used for hair dye.

  “Now then, muchachas and muchachos” she said to the other customers, “let’s celebrate el sol, la vida, and the best damn hairdresser in the entire state of Florida.” Victoria’s eyes swept past Jésus and Delilah and landed on Sonia. Shyly, the girl picked the pieces of mango from the bowl and plopped them whole into her mouth.

  “I knew it!” Victoria’s voice rang out. “Mangoes! Everyone loves mangoes, don’t they?” She smiled her best Miss Pearly Whites as the others devoured the treats and licked the sticky nectar from their fingers. When they finished, Jésus clapped his hands. “We are so grateful to Mrs. Landy for her wonderful party. But we are a house of beauty, not a house of fruit,” he lifted his lips and gave a little smile. “So now we must get back to work.”

  Victoria and Sonia picked up the dirty bowls and walked together into the little back room where there was a sink and a cabinet full of dishes, tea, and instant coffee. Victoria took a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed at a little bubble of mango juice on Sonia’s chin.

  “I’ll bet you like to swim, don’t you?” Victoria whispered. “A girl like you, from Cuba, you’re probably part mermaid.”

  “I like to swim,” said Sonia, obviously pleased that she had formed a full sentence in English.

  “I have a pool. Is muy grande,” said Victoria, holding her arms out in the HOW BIG? THIS BIG position. “Maybe when I’m done here, you’d like to come home with me during your lunch break and swim in my pool. I’m sure Jésus wouldn’t mind.”

  Her eyes widened. “Yes, Miss. I would like it to swim in your pool,” she said quietly.

  “Good then,” Victoria winked. “It’s a date.”

  Victoria tucked her handkerchief in her bag and sat down in Jésus’s chair. He cut her hair without his usual pleasant banter.

  “I see the way you’re looking at me,” said Victoria.

  “There is nothing,” he said. “I am just concentrating.”

  They knew each other better than that.

  “Look, Jésus, Maynard’s working, Ella’s got the day off, and the kids are at some school function. I just want some company. All I did was invite Sonia home for a swim. And besides, it’s hot as Hades out there.”

  “Every day is hot as Hades,” he said as he swished his comb up and down, creating great frothy wings in Victoria’s Ann-Margret do.

  “My God, you’re mad at me, aren’t you?” she laughed.

  “You come here. I do my very best work. You pay me a lot of money. And then you want to go home and get into a swimming pool? If you paid Picasso to paint your portrait, would you throw it in the water a half an hour later?” Jésus stopped teasing and shifted his weight from one foot to another, wearing his wounded pride like a too tight pair of shoes.

  “Well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. It’s about the hair, isn’t it?” said Victoria, who had never seen this side of Jésus. “I’ve really offended you, haven’t I?”

  Embarrassed by his raw emotion, he went back to work and to his old demeanor. “Mrs. Landy, you could never offend me. It is very generous of you to bring the fruit.”

  Just before Victoria left the beauty parlor, she went over to Sonia and said softly, “I’ll meet you at my car.” Then she walked up to Jésus, who was already running his fingers through another customer’s hair. “I’ll only go in up to my chest. I swear it,” she whispered in his ear.

  VICTORIA’S TURQUOISE CHRYSLER Imperial swooped down on Pine Hills like a hawk on its prey. “This is it,” she sang when they arrived home. Sonia stared at the Landy house in disbelief. “Many families live here?” she asked.

  “Oh no,” laughed Victoria, “just mine.”

  Sonia’s almond-shaped eyes narrowed as if to take in what she was seeing.

  “C’mon, silly,” said Victoria. “Let’s get into the pool before we die from the heat.” She ran into the house, with Sonia following close behind. Sonia walked on her toes, afraid to leave tracks or soil the perfect white shags and the polished marble floors, and followed Victoria into her bedroom.

  “We need to find you a bathing suit,” said Victoria. It made her shudder when she thought how anything of Crystal’s would hang loosely, maybe even fall off of Sonia’s fine-boned body. She went through her drawers and pulled out an old blue-and-gold-striped T-shirt that belonged to Maynard and a pair of her old shorts.

  “This should do it,” she said. “There’s nobody here but us girls.”

  Sonia went into Crystal’s bathroom to change. Victoria slipped into her pale yellow Jantzen suit with the pleated bodice. She put on a pair of Wedgies and threw two beach towels over her arm.

  “Last one into the pool is a rotten egg,” she shouted at the closed pink bathroom door.

  Victoria caught a glimpse of Sonia behind her, the shorts, baggy above her knees, as they ran through the Florida room, past the cabana, and to the pool. True to her word, Victoria stepped down the ladder and waded in the water until it was slightly above her waist.

  Sonia did a perfect swan dive into the deep end, emerging with her black hair behind her ears, falling to just below her shoulders. She swam from one end to the other and back and forth a few more times. Her hands sliced through the water, her legs moved quickly just below the surface. She was as sleek and fast as a dolphin, and it was clear from the joy on her face that water was where she felt most at home. Everywhere else she was just passing through.

  All
the while, Victoria watched from the shallow end. She had her hands in the air like someone who was being held up, wary of what the chlorine might do to her manicured nails. At some point, Victoria became aware that Sonia was encircling her like a lasso underwater. When she finally surfaced, she was inches from Victoria’s face.

  “Miss, you keep your hair dry?” she said. “You keep your hair dry for Mr. Baldissari, right?” She hopped up and down, a small smile playing across her face.

  “Well, yes, Sonia, Mr. Baldissari worked very hard on my hair. I’d prefer to keep it dry.”

  Sonia kept bouncing up and down.

  “And if it gets wet?”

  “If it gets wet because a certain water nymph makes it get wet, I will have to . . .” Victoria sprang forward and dunked Sonia’s head under the water. “. . . kill her!” she shouted.

  When Sonia surfaced, she wiped the water from her eyes. Then she clenched both fists and splashed Victoria, aiming right for her hair, soaking every other part of her as well.

  “Goddamn,” shouted Victoria, putting her hands on top of her head. The water mixed with hairspray fell like glue around her face; her hair flattened like a raw egg. “I’m gonna get you for this,” she shrieked, but Sonia was gone before she could. The two women yelled and splashed and chased each other around the pool. The sounds of their screaming were loud enough to be heard on the street when Barone’s Impala pulled up in front of the house.

  THE SIX OF THEM had ridden in silence. Dinah was wedged between Barone and Tessie in the front seat. In the back sat Charlie, Ella, and Crystal. What had taken them an hour and a half by bus that morning, turned out to be a thirty-minute car ride back to the Landys’. Tessie thought they would pull up in front of the house, drop off Crystal, Charlie, and Ella, and drive off before any chance encounters with Victoria or Maynard. But when they pulled up, the teal door with the giant brass doorknob was askew.

  Charlie was the first to notice. “That’s odd. No one ever leaves the front door open.” As they stared at the door, they heard the shrieks coming from the pool. Barone got out of the car. “Stay here, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  No one stayed anywhere. They piled out of the car and followed Barone to the front door. They went through the house until they came to the sliding door that led into the backyard. That was open too. In single file, behind Barone, they marched to the pool. There was Victoria, her hands on Sonia’s shoulders, screaming, “Now you drown.” And there was Sonia, her hands on Victoria’s shoulders, her T-shirt riding up around her breasts shouting, “Now Miss, you drown.” The two of them went under and when they came back up stared into six pairs of stunned eyes.

  “Mrs. Landy!” cried Ella.

  “Mom!” shouted Crystal.

  “Mrs. Landy?” asked Tessie.

  Victoria stood up and pulled her hair away from her face. “Well now that we’ve established who I am, who the hell are you?” she said, staring at Barone. “And what are you doing here?”

  “I am Barone Antonucci. I am a friend of Mrs. Lockhart’s from work,” he said.

  “Well, this is Sonia. She is also a friend from work.”

  Charlie looked at Dinah, and so did Crystal. Victoria stared at Barone, who was watching Sonia hop up and down in the water. The Lord works in mysterious ways, thought Ella.

  “My my,” said Victoria. “Aren’t we a cozy bunch?”

  NINE

  Dinah, Tessie, and the Baron drove home in silence. Tessie kept telling herself that it wasn’t her fault, the way Dinah pushed her away just then. She was a teenage girl. Teenage girls kept secrets from their mothers and confided in their best friends. She thought back to herself at fourteen and could still see her mother wipe her hands on her apron. “Honestly, Tessie,” she’d say harshly, “I hope some day you have a girl of your own and she’s just like you. That would be some punishment, let me tell you.” It made Tessie wince to think that she ever caused her mother this kind of pain. And besides, how could she blame Dinah for having secrets when, God knows, she had secrets of her own. She didn’t dare look at Barone, but worried that, having left the house in such haste, there would be signs everywhere of what they had done. And what was going on with Victoria Landy and that young woman? Why was her housekeeper all dressed up? She wondered how she and Barone would say goodbye and what she would tell Dinah about him when he left.

  Barone caught Dinah’s eye in the rearview mirror. Her head was bowed, as if she were praying, but her eyes were looking up, studying the back of his head. She’s a clever girl, he thought. There was something wistful about her, like her mother, though she seemed more willful and less pliable. Barone’s bravado worked with adults. They admired his shrewdness and were taken with his stylish clothes and ease with money. But he had little experience with children. He had none of his own, and the ones he did know belonged to relatives or friends who had taught them to act respectfully toward him. This one, he thought, his eyes meeting Dinah’s in the mirror, had no reason to think anything but the worst about him.

  “A fine pickle.” His father always said that when one of the boys messed up. “A fine pickle you’ve gotten yourself into this time. Now what’re you gonna do?” Funny phrase, that one. What made a pickle fine? And if a pickle wasn’t fine, what was it? Pickle. Where did that word come from anyway? Picklepicklepicklepickle. He couldn’t help himself; he broke out into a smile. Dinah was still watching him. She noticed how purplish his gums were, and how wide and flat his teeth were, not small and delicate like her dad’s. Barone saw her staring and winked at her, the smile still on his face.

  Dinah tried not to smile back. She’d rather die than give him the satisfaction of knowing how pleased she was that he included her in the joke, whatever the joke was. He’d winked at her, as if she were an adult, not some clueless fourteen-year-old. She turned her attention to the back of her mother’s head. Different hairdo, combed behind her ears like that. Her mother hadn’t moved since she got in the car. Didn’t look at her or the man. Like a horse with blinders, she kept facing forward.

  Dinah thought about all the things that had happened today: Eddie, Mr. Kamfer, Ella. Did Charlie really know what her father was saying? Mrs. Landy? Why did her voice get so piercing and shaky when she said that thing about them all being a cozy bunch? Who was this Barone fellow, and how come no one was talking in the car? Dinah realized that there was a lot she didn’t know, but she also understood that by asking these questions, she knew a lot more than she thought she did.

  When they pulled into the carport, she swung her legs out of the car as fast as she could and slammed the door behind her. “Got stuff to do,” she said, running into the house before anyone could talk. Barone and Tessie sat in the front seat; Tessie still faced forward. Barone moved his hand across the front seat and squeezed hers. “She likes me, don’t you think?” he said. For the first time since they got in the car, Tessie faced him and stared at him sternly.

  “That was a joke,” he said.

  “That was a disaster,” she said. “Everything about today was a disaster.” Barone moved his hand to the inside of her thigh.

  “Not everything about today was a disaster, Dottie.”

  Tessie had to will herself to get out of the car. She stood, one hand on the hood the other on the door and gave one of those laughs that dovetails into a sigh. “Thanks for coming with me to . . .” she fluttered her hand in front of her face, “. . . you know, all this.”

  “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he said. “I’ll call you.”

  Tessie walked quickly into the house and called Dinah’s name. But she was already on the phone whispering to Crystal. “He winked at me in the rearview mirror. She never turned her head the whole time in the car. So weird. Uh oh, here she comes. I’ll call you later.”

  SOMEBODY WAS GOING to have to talk to somebody about what had happened that afternoon. Later that night, Crystal told Dinah that her mother spent the rest of the day acting put upon. After she drove the young woman
back to the beauty parlor, she came home to everyone’s eyes fixed on her like floodlights. “She pretended that nothing was going on,” Crystal said. “Just got all spiteful and mean. ‘Surely you have better things to do on a beautiful Saturday afternoon than hang around staring all cow-eyed at your mama. I know I do,’ she said all hoity-toity. And then she says to poor Ella, ‘Ella, you gonna walk around this house all day in those fancy church shoes of yours? Do that and you’ll be spending all of tomorrow following your footsteps cleaning up those scuff marks.’ Jeez, she drives me crazy. Did your mother say anything?”

  “She came in and walked around the house like a zombie, picking stuff up from here and there, straightening the books on the bookshelf, staring out into space every couple of minutes. When I asked her if she was okay, she kind of blinked, like she’d forgotten I was there. ‘Sure I’m fine. Why do you ask?’ She’s been in her room most of tonight. I’m worried that she hasn’t eaten all day. Wait a minute. We’re the children. Aren’t they supposed to worry about us?”

  “Fat chance,” said Crystal.

  “Do you suppose both our mothers are crazy nymphomaniacs?” That got them both to laughing so hard, it pushed aside the events of the day.

  “Crazy nymphomaniacs!” They kept saying it until it was unclear whether the thought of it or just saying it was what made them helpless with laughter. From that moment on, all one of them would have to do was raise her eyebrows in a knowing way, glance toward the other, and say “CN,” and they would laugh as if it were the first time.