“Nope.”
“So answer my question then.”
“Let’s just say they have allegiances.”
“To the east or west coast?”
“West. Why?”
“No reason. Just interested in the details.”
A waiter arrived to deliver another round of drinks. Mary Lou ordered a coffee: she needed to think straight. While she enjoyed her time with the twins in the house, she lacked something in the outside world.
Unfortunately she knew what it was: for years she’d spent every day working toward some goal whether it was to rob the bank, launder the money or flee for her life and survive. There had been something to aim at and right now she had nothing. Apart from the kids who she adored with all her heart and all her soul. But that wasn’t enough. Mary Lou couldn't define what would be sufficient but she ruminated on the problem, nonetheless.
“Don’t worry. The men do their thing and we do ours.”
Beat
“Fancy some olives?”
DEEP IN THE HEART OF the West Coast mob territory, Mary Lou sat in the passenger seat of Bobby’s sports car as they drove round town. The twins were home with Cindy.
The airport lay to the north but Bobby refused to make it one of their stopovers, despite Mary Lou’s fake protestations.
“Don’t you love the smell of gasoline spewing out of an aircraft’s back side?”
“Mary Lou, you need therapy.”
Instead, he concentrated the journey around the more scenic elements of Palm Springs, like the Tahquitz Wash which was a feeder river from the lake to the east toward the west and beyond to LA. The water crossed through parkland and unkempt grass, but the way Palm Springs was growing, there would be months not years before the land turned into condominiums or retail space. This was an up-and-coming area where the inhabitants suffered from plenty of money.
Bobby took them around the main retail drag. It reminded her how she imagined Fifth Avenue was in direct contrast to anything she saw near Clark Park.
“You wanna do some shopping?”
“Not right now. I am getting hungry though. Why not take me to one of the many places you promised me that have good food and an impressive atmosphere.”
“Not quite my words, but there is a nice little place around the corner we could try.”
He turned left at the next junction and parked outside a restaurant. A valet in uniform smiled at him as he threw the keys over and the guy swapped them for a ticket. The car vanished round the corner and they stepped inside.
The maitre d’ greeted Bobby with a warm handshake and ten seconds later they sat by the window, watching the world chug by as water was served to their table.
“May I recommend the prawns?”
Bobby nodded in acquiescence as the waiter jotted down the order.
“Steak and fries for me, please.”
The waiter looked to Bobby.
“You heard the lady.”
Then to Mary Lou:
“You want something to drink?”
“A cola would be nice.”
Bobby laughed.
“A girl of simple pleasures. I was thinking of something stiffer.”
“I’m sure you were, but I’ll stick with the soda thanks.”
“Make mine a scotch on the rocks.”
“As you wish, sir.”
Bobby blushed for twenty seconds as Mary Lou’s comment entered his head and popped out the other side.
“Teasing. That’s all.”
She winked and took a sip from her iced water.
“So I don’t even know where you live.”
“Oakcrest, same as you.”
“Where?”
“Number three near the entrance.”
“Do you find the noise from East Mesquite Drive too much?”
“Nah. There’s a solid line of trees between the house and the road. Besides, the traffic’s not that bad most of the time. Not even in what we laughingly call the rush hour.”
“And how do you spend your days when you’re in town?”
“Sleep, eat, drink. Play the odd round of golf. Nothing special.”
“They’re playing golf on the Moon now.”
Bobby smiled.
“True, but it’s hard to figure out your handicap when there aren’t any pins to drop the ball into.”
Mary Lou imagined Bobby floating around a golf course with baggy trousers and a tightly fitting V-neck jumper.
“And where are the business interests you mentioned at the party?”
“In LA. Like everybody else’s.”
“Does that mean you’re fucking some bimbo during the week and come back here for eighteen holes at the weekend?”
“Woah! Hold on there. I came out for a quiet drive and pleasant company. Not to get a grilling.”
“Sorry. The more I discover about this place, the more direct I seem to get. I’m only like this because I’m interested in you. Otherwise I wouldn’t give you the time of day.”
“Thanks for the backhanded compliment.”
“You’re welcome. Most men round here lead a double life - at least according to their wives and they should know.”
“Not me. I lead a single life. A solitary quiet existence. I have my work and I have some friends here. That is all there is to me.”
“Hmm. I don’t think that’s all you are. Not for a minute, but I’ll leave you be for now.”
“Why thank you kind lady.”
He squeezed her hand across the table but Mary Lou withdrew it onto her lap. The gesture might have been innocent but she wasn’t ready to touch another man - even if he was only a friend. And she didn’t know if Bobby was that to her yet.
The food arrived with appropriate ceremony and they hunkered down to eat. The steak was superb, the best she’d ever eaten and Bobby’s choice of broccoli as a side dish was well-judged.
After a polite amount of time, the menus reappeared for dessert.
“I couldn’t eat another thing, but go ahead if you want to.”
“Very kind, but I’m only looking out of politeness.”
“A coffee perhaps, then.”
Beat.
“So in what business are you involved? Everyone is so mysterious when it comes to how they earn their money.”
“A bit of this and a bit of that.”
“Come on, Bobby. I won’t be embarrassed whatever you do. Sell blow-up dolls? Nurses uniforms?”
“Jeez, nothing like that. What do you take me for?”
“You’re so cagey, you might have been a sex toy sales rep.”
“Yeah, right. My work is far more mundane than that.”
“And?”
“I used to make accommodations for people, but I’m semi-retired.”
“You’re in construction.”
“Huh? No! Make accommodations: I’d help people out, y’know?”
Mary Lou thought for a minute and joined the dots between Janet, Sylvia and Vivian’s husbands and the West Coast mob - through to Bobby.
“Fuck.”
“Stay calm. I’m in semi-retirement. They keep me on the payroll so they know I’m safe and because I’ve been a dutiful soldier.”
“Mother. Fucker.”
Beat.
“You never said how your son died.”
“I did not.”
“You gonna tell me now.”
“Had nothing to do with work.”
“And your divorce?”
“That was business, yes.”
11
There were no need for coats and hats in March. Truth was there wasn’t much point the previous month either, but Mary Lou wanted to know she was looking after the twins to the best of her ability.
The trip to the park area went without event and she checked out a play area Cindy mentioned the previous weekend. It would give the afternoon a focus and she might bump into other parents too. A shared experience can be a great foundation for a friendship.
Back o
nto the sidewalk and east to South Campadre Road as directed by Cindy. And there it was. Swings, slides and a sandpit for the adventurous pre-schooler.
There were a huddle of adults, either sitting on nearby benches or holding the hands of the younger users. Every person apart from Mary Lou conformed to a single racial demographic: Hispanic female, eighteen to twenty-five.
Mary Lou didn’t mind about who they were, just they might be speaking Spanish. She and Frank had always planned on hitting Canada rather than Mexico because neither of them spoke the language.
She let the twins loose on a ladder which reached four steps up into a playhouse. Frank Jr sprinted up without consideration for himself or anyone else in the vicinity. Alice stood at the bottom and weighed up her options. She only tried the lowest rung once her brother was ensconced at the top and had declared the territory owned by the Lagottis. At the top, he allowed her to rule the roost and they pretended their lives away in a game that only existed in Alice’s head.
Mary Lou stood apart from the Latino maids and watched her children enjoying the equipment. Three minutes later and she noticed there was somebody next to her. She glanced over and there was a man in a brown jacket, white shirt and jeans. Mary Lou hadn’t given herself enough time to make a complete clothes judgment.
“Cute, aren’t they?”
“Sure are. Which is yours?”
“Over there.”
He half pointed in the vaguest of directions toward the other end of the play area but Mary Lou was more concerned with checking Alice wasn’t getting stuck on the ladder as she journeyed down to the ground.
“And yours?”
“Right in front: there.”
Her first finger aimed direct at Alice’s back ten feet ahead. The guy felt like he stood closer than when she’d first noticed him.
“Do you come here often?”
“First time. You?”
“All the time. Great location and wonderful facilities, wouldn’t you say?”
“For sure.”
Beat.
Again, when she glanced at him next, he was within two feet of her. Something wasn’t right in the state of California.
“Where are your brood again?”
He leaned into her so their shoulders touched.
“Just there.”
Mary Lou followed his arm and his finger, by extension, but there were no children in the line of sight.
“See them now?”
He put his hand on her shoulder so she could follow his direction more closely. No-one else appeared to have noticed what was happening. She could smell his breath on her cheek and she was not happy about it.
The inevitable consequence of his actions came to a head as his groin nestled against her side, just above her hip. On instinct, she elbowed him in the stomach and used her weight to spin around and push him to the floor, all the while grabbing a hand as he fell so she could twist the attached arm.
He rolled over causing his arm to flip round his back and Mary Lou pulled upward until she thought the upper arm might pop out of its socket. A kick between the legs finished him off. She leaned in and whispered through clenched teeth.
“I see you again: I’ll kill you, you motherfucker.”
By now, four of the Hispanics had gathered around her but Mary Lou ignored their inquisitive stares.
“It’s all right ladies. He just had a bit of a fall but everything is okay. Isn’t it, buddy?”
“Yeah. All okay.”
The guy still had one hand on his groin reflecting the aggressiveness of the kick. Mary Lou marched over to the twins and, without making a scene or scaring them, took them softly by the hands and walked away from the play area. The dude limped off refusing to speak to any of the enquiring housekeepers and maids surrounding him.
Mary Lou considered calling the police but thought better of it. The fella wouldn’t go bothering her for sure and the chances were he wouldn’t be seen in this part of Palm Springs again. Not unless he had a death wish.
She took the most direct route she could to get home but only picked up the pace when the twins were safe in the buggy. Back in the house, she reviewed what happened and realized how quick her reactions had been and that she could still handle herself.
If she’d had a knife in her hand, she knew his throat would have been sliced open from ear to ear. A gun would have created a large red hole in his chest. All the years which brought her to this point in her life conspired to make her ready for anything. She was an unashamed fighting machine and that could never be taken away from her. Never.
NOT FOR THE FIRST TIME, Mary Lou sat in an upmarket booth at the Palm Springs Country Club surrounded by her girlfriends. Today’s topic of conversation was whether there was any point in having a golf course next to this eaterie.
“It keeps the men away for a couple of hours.”
“Longer if they don’t know how to swing a club.”
“Less if they know how to get their thing into the hole.”
“Stop it!”
Janet was unaware of the double entendre that came out of her mouth. And the others were feeling frisky. Mary Lou hoped they’d catch up with their boyfriends soon because they were getting hysterical and it was doing her head in.
“Have any of you ever been tempted to have a go?”
Laughter all round.
“Darling. A lady who lunches should not be a lady who swings.”
“Not like that, anyway!”
Janet continued to appear bemused while Vivian and Sylvia tittered over the cleverness of their wordplay.
“I’d be up for having a go. Anyone with me?”
“Would cut into my cosmo time.”
“Same here.”
“Me too.”
Mary Lou looked forlorn. None of these women were prepared to do anything. They sat on their well-toned asses and did nothing but prepare for the next cocktail hour. She couldn’t stand it even though she liked them as individuals. Each of the women at the table had been so welcoming when she arrived in town and had continued to be friendly and helpful since then.
“If not a round, how about knocking a ball around a putting green?”
Blank expressions all round. This group was not for budging off the red leather. Mary Lou didn’t think her expectations were too unreasonable. After all, women had been admitted as members here in their own right for at least three years. No blacks as yet, but women were acceptable.
A flicker of memory of Martin turned into a red soaked scene of Frank’s blood drying on her arms and legs on the way back to the Clements.
Back in the moment, Mary Lou shrugged and allowed the chatter to meander around whether the men should spend longer on the course. This being a weekday, there were few males out playing anyway, but there was a guy four tables down who was punching the hour with his voice.
Sylvia called a waiter over.
“Is there any way someone could have a word with the fella over there. He likes the sound of his voice far more than anyone else in this place.”
“I understand, ma’am, but he is the son of the club’s owner so I can’t make you any promises. Would you rather move to a table further away?”
“I’m damned if I’m going to shift because that man’s being an oaf.”
The waiter shrugged and walked away, knowing his job would be on the line if he told the twenty-year-old boy to shut his trap. Sylvia remained unhappy with the situation.
She bowled over to him and words were said - too quiet for Mary Lou to hear. The boy replied, Sylvia slapped him and stormed back, sat down and finished her cosmo in one gulp. A quiet descended on their table but the guy kept his volume down, not least because a trickle of blood rippled from his cheek toward his neck. Sylvia ensured her nails hit his skin instead of the palm of her hand. Clever girl.
MARY LOU WAS TRUE TO her word and spent the next week getting private golf lessons. She was not a natural - and it involved the purchase of a new outfit comprising some shocking
ly unflattering trousers and unpleasant-looking shoes. But she kept at it, practising daily until she believed she could face a hostile golfing world. Then she got Bobby to agree to play a round with her.
“Don’t be too critical and we’ll see how we get on.”
“Golf is the only game I know where you play against yourself and nobody else.”
Mary Lou had no idea what he meant by that but she’d heard others say the same.
Two holes in and Mary Lou watched Bobby tee off. His swing was smooth and effortless. He stood over the ball, moved the club back and forth and the little white sphere flew in an arc heading straight for the flag. A joy to behold.
Her effort continued to involve staring at the ball and waiting for the anxiety to subside long enough to ignore the eyes she imagined bearing down on her, a rush of metal and the ball popped forward cutting the fairway and rolling to a stop within a hundred feet walk.
“Slow your game down and you’ll have more time to control what you’re doing.”
She nodded and agreed she was rushing.
“Take your time and focus on the moves you’re going to make. Ignore me, ignore the wind, ignore the world. Keep your head over the ball and everything will flow from that.”
His voice was calm. Soothing. There was no annoyance at how she was dragging down his game to a crawl. No sense he’d rather be playing with somebody else — anybody in fact. Bobby was a classy guy.
When the eighteen holes were over - several hours later - they changed out their golf clothes and Mary Lou took a shower. Once suitably refreshed, they met up in the Country Club.
“Hope that wasn’t too painful for you.”
“Not at all. We all started with our first game. It’s normal - and you showed promise.”
“Yeah?”
“For sure. You have a good, natural swing. Once you stopped overthinking what the coach told you, the ball flew onto the fairway and your hand-to-eye coordination makes you a solid putter.”
She smiled. Compliments were hard to come by and she wasn’t intending to fish.
“You’re a good guy to play with. You’re patient - and to be honest, you are the only person I know who wanted to play with me. None of the ladies in our little group were prepared to leave this room.”
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