Ladies of Pagodaville

by Ellen Bennett

  “What does Loren think about this?”

  “Lorna. Lorna thinks it’s a great idea. She’s seen me in action. I’ve pretty much rebuilt Milton and Anya’s van. Anya’s pretty hard on equipment.”

  “Who d’ hell is Enya?”

  “AHnyah. She’s Milton’s wife. She’s a firecracker, keeps us all in line. You’d like her, she’s like Betty—a tough cookie who doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

  “Yeah …” He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the stars with his arms behind his head. “So, what’s with all the Mexicans, Doe? You turnin’ tail on me? We got family, y’know.”

  “I know. But now they’re my family, too.”

  “You were going to tell me about Lorna.”

  Doreen’s heart skipped a beat. She missed her. She missed the dusty motel, the dunes, the sounds of the waves at night, and the salty air. “I’m pretty sure she’s my soulmate. I can’t imagine not being with her.”

  “Is she pretty?”

  “Stunning, really. Dark hair, big green eyes, great body, killer smile.”

  “Sounds too good to be true. What’s her angle?”

  “Why does there always have to be an angle, Vin? She’s a smart, educated, thoughtful, loving woman.”

  “Does she love ya? Treat you right?”

  Doreen smiled, “Oh yeah. She treats me right.”

  “I think maybe I should meet this perfect woman sometime. If you love her like you say you do, then it has to be pretty serious.”

  “It is.”

  The calypso music from down the street dwindled out. A few shooting stars zipped across the sky.

  Doreen’s mind wandered.

  They were sitting on top of a dune watching the horizon blue fade into a murky gray as the sun set to the west. The Peace Garden was beginning to look like a garden, but they still had quite a bit of work to do.

  A few stars blinked to life as the sun continued to set.

  Lorna had brought a picnic basket of cheese, bread, wine, and cold cuts down to the beach. Doreen laid out a blanket for them and they sat, arms touching, watching the peacefully receding day slip into a sultry night sky.

  “I like it here, Lorna. It’s so different.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, for one thing, you’re here.”

  Lorna smiled out towards the ocean. “I’m listening.”

  “And, well, I feel like I can be myself. Like, I don’t have to always be on guard. Anya and Milton, and Cheen are like family. Everyone seems so … I dunno … at peace with themselves, know what I mean?”

  Lorna took Doreen’s arm in her palm. “I do. And you blend in quite well.”

  “I want to get to know you, Lorna. And I want you to get to know me. I’ve never felt that with anyone else. I’m usually runnin’ by now or fucking things up. Relationships are not my strong suit.” She cleared her throat. “But you’re different, Lorn.”

  Lorna laid her head on Doreen’s shoulder. “You are too. I like having you here. I like seeing you out in the garden with Milton and his boys. I like seeing you across from me at a table in a restaurant. Or coming up the stairs to my bedroom. I like being on the back of your bike, holding on to you. You’re solid.”

  Doreen leaned down and kissed Lorna on the forehead. “I’d like to think I could stay for a while?”

  “I’d like to think that too.” Lorna reached up and took Doreen’s face in her hands. She lightly kissed her nose, her cheeks, and her third eye. “I think I’d like that so very much.”

  Vinnie’s voice brought Doreen back to the present. “If you need any help, Doe, Frank Salucci and his boys are up there in Jacksonville.” He sighed deeply. “But … I know you’ll do okay. You always land on your feet. You were the smart one. Your brother, the big-shot artist with no future. Your mother, she’s got a big heart but y’know, she’s a few cans shy of a six in the brains department. Your father knew you’d go places.”

  Doreen chuckled, “I have. I’ve put almost 30,000 miles on that bike.”

  “Yeah, what a bike that is. You did good, Doe. Real good.”

  “And that’s another reason I want my tools and gear. I gotta keep the bike in good runnin’ shape. I gotta get new tires, and she might need a new carb.”

  Vinnie yawned, “I can get you the parts you need. Just lemme know, and I’ll have ’em for you before you leave.”

  Doreen sat up and stretched. “Thanks Vin. That help I’ll take.”

  Vinnie stood up and wobbled. “Ahhh, it’s time for me to turn in.”

  Doreen stood up and took hold of his arm to walk him into the house. “How are you, really?”

  Vinnie took a minute to get his legs underneath him. “Not so hot, Doe. This liver thing really kicked my ass to China. Seems like a bunch more parts are startin’ to fall apart. My bowels are always gassy, my heart flutters all over the place, and my dick lives in the next county.”

  Doreen held on to him a little tighter. “I don’t like it, Vin. Have you seen the doc?”

  Vinnie snorted and cocked his head, “Ach, what d’hell do they know.” They walked a bit in silence. Doreen led him into the house and down the hall to his bedroom.

  She asked, “The boys keeping their noses clean?”

  “Ah, yeah. They’re fine. They watch me like a hawk; so does BettyGrable. It’s like she’s invisible until I do something stupid, and then she materializes outta thin air.”

  Doreen chuckled. “That’s why she’s still here. You can’t live without her.”

  “No.” Vinnie stopped at his door. “I can’t.” He looked her square in the eye. “I’m glad you’re settlin’ down, Doe. I’m glad you’re not like Georgie. He’s so … scattered.”

  “When’s he out for parole?”

  “Ach, maybe in three months.”

  “Is he comin to live with you?”

  “Naw. He’s got some dame in Miami.”

  “Well, don’t’ tell him where I live.”

  “I won’t.”

  After getting Vinnie settled in for the night, Doreen found Milton at the pool, snoring away on a lounge chair. He had a big soft towel around his legs. Doreen pulled it up to cover his torso. He shifted, opened one eye, and fell back to sleep.

  She went into the house to the guest wing, shut the door behind her, and picked up the phone. Doreen dialed Lorna’s private line. It rang several times before Lorna answered. Doreen almost hung up.

  “Hey you!” Lorna was out of breath.

  “What? Did you just run the fifty-yard dash?”

  “Almost. The first tenant, PK, arrived about fifteen minutes ago, and I was just giving her the tour of the compound.”

  “Sounds fantastic. And what about the others?”

  “I haven’t heard from Alice or Mari. I assume they are en route. But Lindy called me this morning and said she was leaving Atlanta later this afternoon, would probably stop overnight somewhere. So, tell me, how was your trip down? How is Vinnie?”

  “Well, Vinnie isn’t doing so hot. He looks like shit, really. I mean, he’s still got his mind and all, but his body looks like he’s been dragged from one end of the beach to the other. He tells me things are failing left and right.”

  “I’m sorry, honey.”

  “Yeah, it’s weird to see him like that.” Doreen leaned back on the headboard of the bed in the guest room. “The drive down was good though. Lots of traffic, snowbirds descending as usual. Milton almost fell out of the truck when he saw the House of Vinnie.”

  Lorna laughed. “The House of Vinnie. Sounds like a good name for a sitcom.”

  Doreen absently looked around at the slightly garish but well-appointed decorations in the guest suite. She said, “I miss you.”

  Lorna softened. “I miss you too. It’s not quite the same without you here. When do you think you’ll head back this way?”

  “Couple of days. Vinnie has to get some parts for me, and I have to pack boxes.”

  “All the renters should be here by
the time you get back.”

  “Did you see the moon tonight?” Doreen closed her eyes.

  “Yes, it’s stunning. Almost full. The only thing missing is you.”

  “I know. It’s not the same.”

  “You sound tired, honey.”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty beat from the drive. Let’s talk tomorrow then?”

  Lorna purred, “Will you call me when you wake up?”

  “You’ll be the first call I make.”

  They bid each other goodnight and rang off.

  Doreen sat for a moment on the bed. An odd silence surrounded her. She was very aware of her heartbeat, of the blood pulsing through her body. The essence of Lorna’s voice drifted in and out of her ears.

  She sighed and tried to reason why she felt a little unsure of things. Why Lorna’s quick shift in focus from her to the arrival of the new tenants at this moment bothered her.

  She muttered, “No shit, Shirl. You’re not the only woman there now.”

  She had been the focus of Lorna’s attentions for the last several months, and now the renters were arriving. Things would change.

  A flutter of insecurity swept through her gut. What if one of the women was more attractive to Lorna than she was? More educated, more talented?

  “Of course, they are, Doe.” She murmured into the large room. “They have degrees, they went to college, and they’re talented.”

  Doreen shook her head and made herself get up to do her ablutions before retiring for the night.

  In the bathroom mirror, she regarded herself. She knew she was good-looking, in excellent shape, and had several talents of her own, even if college was never in her game plan.

  It was just this nagging voice that said she wasn’t in the same league as Lorna and her ilk. That she was less-than, a mafia kid. A woman who lived off the proceeds of dark dealings, swindles, and fast ones. Of connections with people who thought nothing of killing someone else face-to-face. Or using the family honor card like a shield or a sword to justify the senseless killings.

  It was murder she never understood. When she witnessed her father die by two bullets, she couldn’t fathom how those two small pieces of metal could bring a person down, forever. And why?

  She sat down hard on the commode and put her head in her hands. She felt her throat constrict, her heart thud. She grabbed a nearby towel and let her pain pour out into the folds.

  She was not good at being vulnerable.

  To make matters worse, at that moment an old tape replayed clearly in her mind. The words spoken to her by a woman she’d jilted shortly before meeting Lorna.

  “What the hell, Doreen? All you seem to do is run from one city to the next on that fucking bike of yours, breaking hearts along the way. When are you going to stop running? When are you going to admit that you’ve got to stop long enough to unfuck the damage you suffered as a kid? It’s not going to go away on its own. Karma will follow you; you know that, right? I mean, you just keep taking it with you wherever you go and one day …”

  Doreen remembered walking out the door after that speech with all those words stuck to her as if she were covered in glue. Words that propelled her towards the bike, toward the wind, toward the only freedom she knew. Away from another heart she made promises to, knowing she could not keep them.

  She dried her tears with the towel, grabbed a tissue and blew her nose, sighed, stood up, grabbed her kit, and pulled out a toothbrush and paste.

  “Knock it off.” She spat the paste into the sink. “Just knock it off. You’re going to prove them all wrong.”

  She gargled with mouthwash and smacked her lips. “That’s better.”

  Doreen turned off the lights in the bathroom, dimmed the lights in the bedroom, and pulled back the sheets.

  A slight knock came at her door.

  She opened it to find Milton standing there with the towel wrapped around his torso. “So very sorry to disturb you, Miss, but I think I got lost to find my room. I know it is down this hall somewhere.”

  Doreen smiled at him. She felt a huge wave of relief wash over her. Milton represented the connection to the motel, to the life that she found herself willingly and happily committed to.

  She said, “Follow me. Hey, are you hungry by chance?”

  He shrugged his shoulders, “I am never one to turn down the possibility of good food.”

  “Let’s hit the fridge.”

  “Oh yes, Miss. Is this towel okay to go to the fridge?”

  Doreen smiled at him. “Milton, you are, in my book, okay to go anywhere in whatever you choose to wear.”

  He shrugged his shoulders and followed her down the hall to the grand staircase.

  TEN

  The Pagoda Motel

  It was mid-afternoon on a sultry fall day when Mariella pulled into the turnaround in front of the main building. Her first view of the property was the Peace Garden.

  She got out of her car and walked toward it, the scents of the blooms and colors reminding her of her beloved desert garden.

  She breathed deep through her nose. “So lush,” she murmured.

  “Hello?” A voice called out from behind.

  She turned to see Lorna walking towards her with an extended hand. “You must be Mariella. I’m Lorna.”

  Mariella shook her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you. This garden, the photographs did not do it justice at all. It is so very beautiful. Did you get my check? And the book?”

  Lorna smiled, “Thank you. And yes, I received both. Your book is magnificent.”

  Mariella blushed, “You read it already? Well, wow. Thank you!”

  Lorna said, “I read it in one night. I couldn’t put it down. You and I, well, Julianna and I, have a lot in common!”

  “Really? We must talk then!”

  “Come, you must be tired from your drive. Would you like to stop into the lobby for refreshment? I have some paperwork for you to fill out along with a welcome package and so on. Or would you rather go directly to your cabin and we can deal with the paperwork later?”

  “I could use a bathroom and something cold to drink.”

  Lorna took her gently by the shoulder and directed her to the front door of the lobby. “I just happen to have both.”

  Lorna felt like a schoolgirl meeting a crush. Not a sexual crush, more like admiration.

  Lorna’s first impression of Mariella was that Mariella was genuine. Maybe a little nervous, but real. She was quiet, direct. Kept eye contact and waited for responses.

  If anyone was nervous, it was Lorna.

  ***

  A few weeks later, Lorna sat down to write a letter to Avril.

  Hello dear:October 25

  Just thought I’d drop you a line since you and Saul are in Jalisco Bay and we will miss our biweekly chat. I hope the two of you had a wonderful vacation (without the kiddos!).

  Life here at the motel is pretty darn good. All the tenants are in; they seem to be settling nicely. Mariella was the last one to arrive—she had spent some time in Tallahassee with her publisher. Did you have a chance to find the book in Cleveland? Last we talked you hadn’t been able to find it. Check Coventry Books. They can order it for you if they don’t have it on the shelf. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that first off.

  So, for two Tuesdays in a row, we’ve all gotten together and had dinner at El Mocambo. The whole gang—Anya and Milton, Cheenah, and the tenants. I think it’s going to be a regular thing now! Then afterwards we head back to the beach to build a bonfire. It’s a great way to connect with the tenants without getting in their way.

  They’re all so different, unique. Like, PK—the musician—she’s so focused on her music. I can hear her at different times of the day. I like her voice and the way she plays the guitar (especially after reading Mariella’s book).

  And Lindy—the graphic artist. She’s a riot. It took me a little while to get comfortable with her. She’s quite assertive. LOVES to talk. She’s got that Southern accent, and way with words t
hat makes her sound like she’s reading from a script for a play. She drove up to the motel in a gorgeous midnight blue convertible Mustang. Doreen almost tripped over herself to look underneath the hood.

  And Alice—the artist—is just plain funky. It’s the best way to describe her. She’s always got paint stains on her hands and clothes. The other day she was outside of her cabin in a skinny-ribbed undershirt and gym shorts stretching her canvases to different sized frames. I didn’t realize how incredibly thin and pale she is. We’ve got to fatten her up and get her face to the sun!

  And of course, there is Mariella. She is such a lovely woman, Avril. She is older than the rest, just turned forty. I feel like I can relate to her better than the others because we are closer in age. Sometimes, when I look at her while the group is together, she is somewhere else. I don’t mean to say she is vacant and doesn’t participate. She takes it all in. Maybe stows it somewhere for later use? I think the other ladies look up to her. She’s well balanced. AND guess who has eyes for her? Cheenah! I gave her my copy of Mariella’s book and she read it in one sitting, like I did. She was starry eyed when she returned the book. It’s sweet to see her all flustered around Mariella.

  Doreen’s garage is going swimmingly. She and Milton work out there all day. Did I tell you Alice is designing a mural on the side of the garage for Doreen? I saw a preliminary sketch and it’s so freakin’ cool. I’ll take pictures when it’s done.

  Well, it’s Tuesday and we are heading across the intracoastal for dinner in about twenty minutes. The weather is stellar, so we’re going to do the bonfire thing.

  I miss you. Hugs to Saul and the kids.

  Talk soon.

  Love

  L-

  Lorna sealed and stamped the envelope and put it with the rest of the outgoing mail, then got ready for the Tuesday Taco feast at El Mocambo.

  ***

  Lorna, Doreen, Alice, and Lindy were left to watch the embers of the fire crackle down to a small orange glow. Mariella had gone back to her cabin to write, PK was tired, and Cheenah had gone back to work directly after dinner.