by Rissa Brahm
“Yes, of course. Well, I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious. Can I do anything, come out to meet you?”
No! “No. I’m really okay, actually getting back on the road now towards the hospital. Thanks, though.” She put the words out in quick secession, certain that she wanted Johnnie Demonte nowhere near the knotted ball of yarn her day had become, especially since he’d had a part to play in her day becoming such crap.
“You sure? If you need me, I can change stuff around here on the Island.”
“No, Johnnie, you can’t do that, and you shouldn’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, I’ll be at the club tonight with the girls as usual. I’m meeting two girls I found from Piranha. Training, scheduling. Seriously, just do your thing.” She had to keep things simple, and God, she was starting to sense, or rather, to know, that Johnnie was anything but simple. High maintenance was more like it.
She closed the crappy little flip phone and threw it back in her purse. Her body rolled back down to the soft grass, and she closed her eyes, trying to clear the disruption from the air.
Antonio’s head fell back too. “Everything okay? With Johnnie?”
“Oh, yeah. Just…you know, he was concerned, about the ‘hospital emergency.’ He knew about the call from the hospital.”
She looked at Antonio then, his lips pursed, his eyes narrowed as if he wanted to ask her something. Burning to ask her a question, his eyes almost quivering. But then he shook his head, turned his head back to resume his skyward gaze.
“No rain today,” he said. The vanilla statement matched the vanilla mood that had been painted onto their canvas, covering up the vibrant strokes they’d shared only minutes before.
“Yup. All clear. Not a single cloud in sight.”
*
Back on the thruway, he just kept quiet to let her think, to mentally prepare. She’d calmed down a lot, but had to still be boiling inside. Her loyalty to her family and the sacrifices she’d made were mind-blowing to him. He knew that sort of loyalty to family in Mexico. But he’d made an observation during his years in the States; there was something strange in the atmosphere, specifically in the great city of New York and its surrounding areas. The nameless something somehow stripped away that layer of noble dedication to blood before material gain.
And as far as he was concerned, Jana was a diamond in the rough. She was a precious gem they, her own family, continually tried to milk for all it was worth. But milking a stone would get them nothing. Nor would trying to crush it with their impotent scorn because, if they didn’t know, a diamond is unbreakable.
Out of his peripheral vision he noticed her putting on mascara in the visor mirror and so he took extra care not to switch lanes suddenly or hit his brakes. Then she switched to lipstick. He never noticed her wearing any lip color, but he’d definitely noticed her lips. They were lush, almost heart-shaped. Each time she spoke to him, he found himself having to keep from staring at her mouth, that sweet bottom pout, whether smiling or singing or scrunched in thought. And when her tongue moistened her lips after sipping her coffee or pulling from a bottle of water—Ay Dios Mio!
He was glad when she closed up the tube, ending the torturous distraction. But then his eyes glanced at her, needing to see the final result. The barely-visible shimmering nude color on her lips became yet another facet of Jana he felt compelled to burn into his brain. Damn it, he was at her mercy.
Then, almost missing the exit, he turned on his right turn signal and quickly moved toward the Fort Lee off-ramp. He heard a small thud. She had dropped her lipstick. And he heard it roll backward as he continued up the wide turn off the exit ramp.
“You okay?”
She was leaning forward and down, reaching under the passenger seat, grunting through it as the seat belt fought her entire attempt. “Yeah, just”—she sat up then, treasure in hand—“got it.” And when Antonio saw the white lace thong she was holding up in front of her face, he narrowed his eyes and winced.
“Jocelyn Carlson,” he said, shaking his head in disgust.
“The ex-wife to the Wall Street mogul?”
“The one and only,” he said, slowing to a stop at a traffic light. Then he took them from her with a handkerchief he’d pulled from the center console, flipped them over and found the usual Tony’s Mouth Here written in red lipstick on the tiny strip of fabric that was the crotch of the used undergarment. “This is not the first pair. See…the wedding ring was for another reason, but it somehow backfired with this one. Jocelyn Carlson is clinically depraved.”
“You’ve never…?”
“No, never. God.” He cringed. “I told you, for professionalism alone,” he said, scanning her disbelieving eyes. “Seriously, she sickens me. And this is my business”—he tapped his dashboard almost lovingly—“my livelihood. When I lost the corporate position in the City, I had to start from scratch. Driving, like I’d done back in Vallarta. And I rebuilt. I knew the money was here for the earning, yes, but it’s in the form of horrendous women like Jocelyn Carlson. And those same women don’t mind crushing people…like ants under their damn thousand-dollar spiked heels. She tried to get me to screw her then spin it around and screw me back. I’m not playing that game, or any game for that matter. Sick twisted shit.”
“The grand game of life. Pretty much sucks all the way around the board.” She grinned at him.
“Yeah, and at the end of the day, all you get are some nasty used souvenirs.” He nodded to the panties. “But, at least, that’s the last I’ll see of Jocelyn Carlson. I finally refused to drive her anymore.”
“So…you fired your richest client?”
“Yes. I was done being a doormat, you know? No amount of money is worth losing your pride over. Your identity. She just kicked my seat one too many times.”
Jana gave him a questioning sidelong glance.
“Long story, but being done with her is how I had time for this gig. Luckily.” He smiled at her, meaning so much more than the current context would allow. “And after this three-month contract, I’m done. Heading home. I will have reached my number.”
“Your number?”
“I set a goal, a dollar figure, when I was six.”
“When you were sick, with what?”
“No, six. Years old.” He glanced from the road to her face. Her big brown eyes were melting caramel sweetness. “Yes, it was cute…but I was damn serious. And I’m really almost there.”
“What’s the number?”
“No one but Celeste knows it, and that’s only because she strong-armed me. She was seven years old at the time, and inches taller than me.” He snickered.
“So it’s secret?”
“I can’t jinx my goal by telling it!”
“Are you sure you’re not Asian?” She laughed through her words. “Because we have a long list of superstitions, so many, in fact, we require separate schooling for them.”
“Jesus, tell me about it! My Mexico is steeped in the stuff! Remind me to tell you the superstitious saga around my baby sister someday,” he said, turning into the hospital. “But anyway, I’m close to the number and I can’t wait to…well…get my life started.” He smiled, liking the sound of his own words. Get my life started.
She smiled at him and nodded, like she was happy for him, except for a hint of a solemn reservation in her eyes. It vanished before he could place whatever it was that bothered her.
“Hey, where do you want these?” she asked as she took the panties in the handkerchief to free up his hand.
“Fold them up in the cloth and shove ’em in the glove compartment, please. I’ll have dispatch deal with it. I’m sure they’ll love that. And come to think of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if more were hidden around the vehicle. I should probably go through the seat cracks too,” he scoffed.
He pulled under the hospital’s portico, right up to the automatic sliding doors, setting off the sensor. He watched her gather up her purse and her courage while the glass doors opened and closed, opened an
d closed. Jana stared at them as if those doors were waiting to eat her alive. She got the same look on her face each time he dropped her off, but this level of dread was palpable.
“Will you wait here for a little longer before going on errands or whatever?”
“I always do.” He smiled. “I usually wait for an hour, cost-wise, but I actually won’t leave at all today. I’ll park it, and we can grab food together later, on the way back down to the club.”
“Thank you,” she said, with something more than relief floating on her voice. Her shoulders relaxed. And her two words somehow lightened his heart, maybe because he seemed to have lightened hers.
CHAPTER 31
“Please, Mom,” Jana said after pulling her out of the ‘much lower quality’ room. “You cannot call me with a ‘9-1-1’ and no details, and then not answer my calls after that. And having Dane text me? Why are you even including him in our family’s business at this point?” she demanded more than asked––Antonio’s words about no longer being walked all over rang loud in her head. Why had she been allowing it for so long? “I’m here. I’m taking care of the bills. Not Dane. Never Dane, Mom. It’s me doing it.”
Then her mother’s rant in harsh Korean began. “I’m at the restaurant morning until night, Ja-Na, then back here again. And you, we haven’t seen you since—”
“Since yesterday, Ma. Since yesterday! Yes, today I was going to sleep in, because I took a job, separate from my actual career, and yes, it keeps me out late. But this other job will cover all the medical bills. Three months and I will have it near-done. Risking my career, yes, but I’m doing it. For you, and for Daddy!”
“You can help me at the restaurant, Ja-Na. That’s what we need.”
“Did you not hear me? Three months…completely paid down medical-debt. And maybe you’re blind in addition to deaf…because you’ve obviously not looked at your own business’s books, maybe ever,” Jana shouted rhetorically, then took her mother’s arm and pulled her inside her father’s small, dank room. This was it. She was going to wake them both up from their clouded stupor. After all, her dad was more or less out of danger now, but post-surgery or not, he’d never be ready to hear what she’d had to say anyway, so there was no time like the goddamn present.
“Dad,” she said in a quieter tone than she’d used outside with her mother, but jolting the dazed man just the same. “And Mom. I went through the books at the restaurant. In two weeks’ time, you won’t be able to stock the restaurant, let alone pay the staff. With or without Dad there, the place is a money suck. Cousin David knows it, but for some reason, he doesn’t tell you. And with the state it’s in, my God! Besides flushing money and time down the toilet, and both of your energy, the place is just unkempt. It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen. And unless you guys seriously discuss—” A light rap on the door interrupted her long awaited and poignant final words. Damn it. “Yes?” Jana snapped at whoever wanted in.
“It’s Sally from the business office.” The one who’d made the decision to downgrade her dad’s room. Jana could burn the woman alive with a glance for causing such unnecessary chaos, despite all of Jana’s diligent communications and efforts to pay.
The woman must’ve felt the arctic chill of the room upon entering, with Jana’s mother sitting with her mouth hanging open while her dad’s eyes were scrunched closed, his hand at the bridge of his nose, and the permanent scowl on his face more pronounced than Jana had ever seen it.
“So sorry to interrupt….”
Of course she was. “What can we do for you?” Jana said with an appropriate tone of icy calm.
“Oh, yes, glad you made it here, Ms. Park. I left voice messages. Well, in addition to the need to handle the uninsured patient’s bill more aggressively, we still have not gotten the patient’s advanced directive or living will. We really shouldn’t have moved him without having had those in the file, although we’ve asked for them repeatedly.”
Jana looked at her mother, who shrugged her innocence. Well, who the hell else would they’ve asked for such papers? Her parents were children, just goddamn children.
“Yes, you’re right Ms.…”
“Buchard. Sally Buchard.”
“You’re absolutely right. My father, a post-op cardiac patient, should not have been moved to this basic room or even from the ICU to a standard room, without those documents on file. Would you maybe have thought to ask me for them since I’d been your contact on the billing? Instead of my mother, who’s been completely overwhelmed, and is not a native English speaker?” But what was the point? The whole thing was an utter clusterfuck, and now she was taking out her rage on this Sally Buchard from the billing office. “Sorry. Sally, just never mind. I’ll get you the papers you need right away and will handle the billing matter on Thursday like I’d told you last Friday when I met with you in-person at your desk. Will that work for you? Because, well, it’s gonna have to.”
“Um, yes, okay. Sounds fine,” the woman stuttered as if she had a damn choice in the matter.
Jana would have fifteen thousand plus twenty to thirty-five grand by Thursday, and if Ms. Sally Secretary didn’t like the nearly thirty percent pay down, they could take her parents’ damn building, complete with decrepit restaurant and the putrid apartment above it.
As soon as Sally left the room, Jana returned her attention to her parents, who looked almost in awe, assumedly at how she’d handled the hell out of the prior episode. Irony happens. And usually, it happens too damn late to make any real difference.
“Where are the papers she needs? Where can I find them in the house?”
“Oh, Jana, I’ll get them,” her mother said.
“No. You won’t. You haven’t, and now I will. Where will I find them?”
Her mother narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth as if to argue.
But her father waved Jana over to him before her mom could utter a word. Her dad’s breath was strained, but his general air had always been strong enough to squelch anything her mother had to say. “Top right of my suit closet. In one of the three or four cardboard file boxes.” His voice had sounded raspy, withered. Pathetic.
She turned without another word and left the room.
When she got out of the wing, and past the reception area, she saw Antonio standing there, a warm smile lifted on his face.
“I didn’t mean for you to wait inside for me.”
“I, uh, was getting too hot in the car and didn’t want to run the AC too much more… Fuel, you know,” he said, obviously covering up his concern for her. And he could cover it up all he wanted. She appreciated his care just the same. She was glad to see him, her guardian angel.
Now he needed to help her sift through some files.
*
He drove to Korean Soul while Jana obviously tried to control her anger. Her nostrils flared and her fists clenched on her lap.
He still couldn’t get over it, that her parents owned the joint. And although he’d always loved the food there, he’d never gotten the old man behind the counter to smile at him, not once. The irony. That he personally knew the man, the face, the glaring eyes, the very source of Jana’s torment. And he hated the man for it. He hated what the man had put her through, what he continued to put her through.
“So if we get through the boxes and find the papers, say, within a half hour, we’ll be back to the hospital by two-thirty, back on the road by a quarter to…”
“Jana, stop worrying about the time. If you’re a little late to the club, so be it. Especially on a Sunday night. This is your family. The club will deal.”
“Yeah, I can call down there, maybe have Didi and Laynie at least start—”
“You’re worse than me, I swear.” He laughed. He often worked until three in the morning. After cleaning out his vehicle, he would start his paperwork, billings, payroll. But the difference was, he had no one to tell him to go home, sleep, eat, live. Even though Celeste tried, he didn’t listen. One reason he’d always run his own ship. “
You need to take care of yourself and this family stuff first.”
“My job, though. I can’t take care of my family without this job.”
“But it sounds or looks to me that Johnnie will bend over backward to help you…right?” It was his first attempt at fishing for the answers that were eating at him. What was Johnnie expecting from Jana, with all his attention, the apartment, full-time limo service? Jana, he had no doubt, would make an impact on the club’s traffic––hell, he’d already noticed the influx of covers from last Saturday night over Friday just by sitting in the parking lot. But knowing Johnnie Demonte, there had to be more to it. Like, how on an early Sunday morning had that little shit already known she needed to get to the hospital? Had he been with her that morning? In bed? Goddamn it, how his stomach turned at the thought.
“He’s paying me to do a job is all. The girls will be on time for training at four, and so should I. Oh shit, the new girls. I have the two girls from Piranha coming in to try out. If I don’t build up the schedule, we won’t be able to support next week’s crowd.”
“Hey Jana,” he interrupted, touching her elbow lightly. “We’re here at your folks’ place.”
Her nervous rant got swallowed up then by a long exhausted sigh. And by the time she’d unbuckled her seatbelt, Antonio was already out of the car.
“Come on there, speed demon.” The next instant he was at her car door, ushering her out of the limo. “We’ve got some un-filing to do.”
*
Antonio stood on a stepladder and pulled down the five musty, unlabeled boxes one at a time and placed them on the disgusting and ancient shag carpet in the tiny closet. She started dragging them out into the bigger space of her folks’ bedroom. Then they got to work.
“Look for a folder or document with the headings health care directive, power of attorney, living will, anything like that. And sorry in advance. After seeing the filing system in the restaurant office, you might as well go through each and every paper. Their system is ‘there is no system.’” She gave him a glib smile and tore into the box in front of her.
