Love Inc.

by Yvonne Collins

  ‘Six months?’ I say. ‘I give them at least until college.’ Before Eric, I might have said they could go the distance, but that seems the stuff of fairy tales, even with a couple as well matched as Lauren and Trey.

  ‘Like I said before, no one feels the love forever,’ Kali says. The skater dude is so entranced by her that he wipes out. ‘But it sure is fun while it lasts.’

  Syd watches as skater boy dusts himself off with two grazed and bloody hands. ‘The pain’s not worth the gain,’ she says.

  Someone in the crowd shouts, ‘Here they come!’

  Squealing, Kali holds down her hat with both hands and squeezes her eyes shut. Meanwhile, Syd passes me Banksy’s leash and raises her camera. The bats emerge in long black columns from beneath the bridge, dimming the rosy evening sky on their way out to hunt.

  ‘That was awesome!’ Kali says, opening her eyes in time to see the last line of bats snake over the tops of the buildings and disappear in the distance. She pulls off her hat and fluffs her curls. ‘Now for some ice cream.’

  As we head over to Amy’s Ice Creams on 6th Street, I fish around in my bag for the envelope Lauren gave me, and divvy up the bonus.

  ‘Making money has never been so much fun,’ Kali says. ‘A few more assignments would really build my guitar fund.’

  ‘Most people couldn’t afford to pay so much,’ I say.

  ‘True,’ Kali says. ‘But I’d have done it for half the price. Maybe we could work out some sort of pay-what-you-can system, depending on the complexity of the job.’

  ‘You’re talking like this is an ongoing business,’ I say.

  ‘Maybe it should be,’ Kali says. ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.’

  ‘I was thinking about it on the bus ride over,’ I admit. ‘I bet lots of people need help fixing their relationships.’

  ‘Not to mention retribution when they get screwed,’ Syd adds.

  ‘Imagine the job satisfaction,’ Kali says. ‘It felt so great to even the score with Eric, and we’d have been willing to pay for it. I’ve been thinking about all the people who never get that closure. If Zahra can’t help them get a rocky relationship on track, Syd could step in to give them back their pride. Then I could help them find love again. Match, patch, and dispatch,’ Kali starts singing. ‘Love, Inc. does it all.’

  Syd ties Banksy up outside of Amy’s. ‘That has a nice ring to it. The name, I mean. Not the song.’

  While we wait in line for our ice cream, Kali and I discuss how we’d find clients. Since we’d mostly have to fly under the radar, we couldn’t exactly advertise.

  Syd is quiet until she has her cone in hand and has shaped it into a perfect dome. ‘I wasn’t sure if I should mention this, but there’s a photographer at the Maternity Ward who saw the article in the Chronicle and recognised my work on the car. Her name is Sinead, and she wants us to set up an Eric Special for her cheating boyfriend. Her mom owns a denim store, and she offered free jeans as payment.’

  ‘Sounds like we have our first official client,’ Kali says, beaming. ‘I’m in if you are. And the barter system is fine with me.’

  ‘Me too,’ I say. ‘But let’s say we all have to agree that someone deserves to be punished before we slam.’

  ‘Fine,’ Syd says. ‘But I know the guy, and trust me, he deserves it.’

  ‘If he does, Cupid’s deputies will bust him,’ Kali says.

  ‘So we’re really going to do this?’ I ask, half excited, half terrified. It’s one thing to fumble around in your own relationship, but if you’re accepting payment to help other people, you’ve got to get it right. I was lucky today, but if we go pro, I’ll have to improve my technique. We’ll have standards to maintain.

  On the upside, maybe I’ll learn something through this work that will help me succeed in love the next time – if there is one.

  ‘Let’s do it,’ Syd says, holding out a fist.

  ‘I hereby declare Love, Inc. open for business,’ Kali announces as our knuckles collide. She opens her arms to embrace us, and Syd steps backward.

  ‘Keep the cones away from the vintage couture.’

  ‘Since when does a ripped Bangles T-shirt qualify as vintage couture?’ Kali asks. ‘You want to know my opinion?’

  ‘Not really,’ Syd replies.

  ‘I think you’re hug-phobic.’

  ‘And I think you have too many opinions.’

  Glancing around the empty hallway, I answer my phone.

  ‘Hello, Love, Inc.’

  ‘Interesting,’ a guy says in a low, smooth voice. ‘This is Riaz Dar. Your grandmother said you’ve been expecting my call.’

  My back goes up immediately. ‘She did not.’ In fact, I was expecting Sinead, the photographer from the Maternity Ward.

  ‘She did,’ Riaz continues. ‘She said you think I’m hot.’

  I highly doubt Nani used that word, although she shouldn’t have been talking to him about me anyway. ‘Yeah, right,’ I say, heading toward my next class. ‘Actually, she thinks you’re hot, Riaz. Lucky you.’

  There’s a pause as he imagines that scenario. ‘I got the photo you sent, too.’

  Señora Mendoza rounds the corner and stops at the window overlooking the back of the campus, where students try to sneak in a smoke. To avoid her, I slide into a stairwell and close the door behind me.

  ‘I didn’t send you a photo.’ Nani must be getting more tech savvy, thanks to her twelve-year-old accomplice.

  ‘Well, since we’re chatting, what are you doing the first Saturday in October?’

  ‘Not going out with you,’ I say. If this arrogant jerk is the best my grandmother could do, it’s a good thing arranged marriages are a thing of the past in my family.

  ‘Who asked?’

  ‘Sounds like we’re on the same page, here, Riaz. I’m hanging up now.’

  ‘Wait,’ he says, laughing. ‘I’m just messing with you. I’m actually calling because I’m the head of volunteers for the Eid carnival, and your grandmother said you wanted to get involved.’

  ‘Like I said, my grandmother lies.’

  ‘OK, but now that you’re getting to know me, you might want to help out anyway,’ Riaz says.

  ‘Now that I’m getting to know you, I want to stay as far away from that carnival as possible. Goodbye, Riaz.’ I start heading down the stairs. ‘I hope you and Nani have a great day together.’

  Riaz laughs. ‘Are you jealous?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say, ‘I can only hope my love life will be as great as my grandmother’s someday.’

  His laughter is still ringing in my ears as I near the bottom of the stairs, and it takes me a second to realise there’s someone else laughing. I back up a few paces to find Hollis leaning against the wall under the last set of stairs. The buttons of her top are mostly undone, and Fletcher has his arm around her waist.

  ‘You want a love life like your grandmother’s?’ Hollis says. ‘That’s sick.’

  Fletcher grins, and sparkles of gloss on his lips catch the light. ‘There’s no need to settle,’ he says. ‘Not when you like to go topless.’

  ‘Looks like I’ve set a trend,’ I say, looking pointedly at Hollis’s shirt. ‘I hope the admin staff enjoyed the show.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Hollis says, starting to button up.

  ‘Don’t you read the school paper?’ I ask, bluffing. ‘They installed CCTV at Austin.’ I look up to the light fixture as I head toward the exit. ‘They can hide those little cameras anywhere.’

  ‘I don’t see anything,’ Fletcher says, spinning slowly.

  I smile as I open the door to the lower hall. ‘Enjoy your detention, superstars.’

  ‘Shopping for love at the big box store

  Shopping for someone I can adore

  I asked you for paint, you said satin or glossy …’

  Kali muses, ‘What could come next?’

  ‘“That’s when I noticed your teeth were all mossy”?’ I suggest. ‘“Haven’t you heard o
f dental flossy”?’

  ‘Stick to writing recipes, Z.’

  Glennis comes into the kitchen and looks around. ‘Did I sleep through a tornado?’

  Dirty bowls, spoons, and spatulas cover every surface in the kitchen, and the island is smeared with batter and frosting. ‘I took you up on your offer,’ I say, clearing the way to the coffeemaker.

  I made two types of cupcakes for my sister’s bake sale: dark chocolate with white chocolate chunks and strawberry icing, and white chocolate cupcakes with strawberries pieces and dark chocolate icing.

  After putting the coffee on, Glennis sets her camera up on a tripod and arranges my cupcakes on platters beside the window.

  ‘Every meal’s a photo op,’ Kali says. She points to the three photos of peppers that I’ve admired since the first day I visited. The angle and the lighting transform a simple vegetable into a modern, sculptural object.

  ‘Maybe you could use these shots in a cookbook one day,’ Glennis says.

  I’m thrilled. No one’s ever taken my baking this seriously before. ‘Thanks, Mrs Callaghan,’ I say, choosing her most recent married name.

  ‘Call me Glennis,’ she says, pouring coffee into a thermal cup and heading for the door with her camera gear. Just as I’m deciding she’s the coolest mom on the planet, she adds, ‘Leave the kitchen like you found it, OK?’

  A few minutes later, Syd arrives with Banksy in tow. She was supposed to have breakfast with her mom, but her scowl suggests it didn’t work out. I know better than to ask, but Kali isn’t as cautious. ‘What happened with your mom?’

  ‘I’m here to work, Kali,’ Syd says. ‘Family problems can wait till group.’

  Kali blunders on. ‘Did she make other plans?’

  ‘Did my words come out in Klingon?’ Syd asks.

  I let them argue while I clean up the kitchen, and they start to lose steam as I put the last dish away. ‘How’s it going with your matchmaker program, Kali?’ I ask.

  ‘Almost done,’ she says. ‘I think I might road test it on my mom. She’s incredibly picky. If I can find a decent match for her, I’ll know my formula’s a winner.’

  ‘Good luck with that.’ The sentence is garbled because the speaker has his mouth full of cupcake. Brody is standing behind us in rumpled army shorts and an equally rumpled T-shirt. His feet are bare and his hair is sticking up all over. Still, he’s cute. Probably better than cute in the big scheme of things. ‘Morning.’

  ‘It’s nearly two,’ Kali says, as he strips the paper off another cupcake and devours it. ‘Those are Zahra’s. You could at least ask first.’

  ‘May I?’ he asks, reaching for a third cupcake. Banksy stands under him, licking up the crumbs. ‘These are amazing. Where’d you get them?’

  ‘I made them.’

  ‘Get out.’ He reaches for a fourth, and I notice he’s gone for three of the chocolate with strawberry icing. I have my winner.

  ‘Leave some for the bake sale,’ Kali says.

  ‘There’s plenty,’ I say. For me, there’s nothing better than seeing someone enjoy my baking.

  ‘I told you Red likes me,’ he says, winking at Kali. ‘Guess you girls heard about what happened to Rick’s car?’

  I can’t help grinning. ‘We saw the article.’

  ‘Don’t look so happy about it,’ Brody says. ‘It wasn’t you he played.’

  ‘Actually, it was,’ I say. ‘And his name is Eric.’

  ‘The guy deserved what he got,’ Syd says.

  Brody turns to his sister. ‘Deserved? This was random, wasn’t it?’

  Kali shrugs. ‘Maybe Eric picked the wrong girls to cheat on.’

  Brody looks at us, lined up with our arms crossed, and puts the pieces together. ‘You did all that? The paint job, the tires, the slimy crap inside?’

  Three of us shrug in unison.

  Brody starts backing away. He pitches the uneaten half of his cupcake into the sink, and I watch as my creation slides into a pool of soapy water. ‘Hey!’ I say.

  ‘I just remembered I’m allergic to nuts,’ he says. ‘And you guys are crazy.’

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Does Kali have a brother?’ Mom asks, out of the blue.

  I nearly drop the container of cupcakes I’m sliding onto the counter. ‘Why?’

  ‘You’re over at her house a lot lately.’ Mom’s been able to track me because I’m staying with her for a week or so while Dad’s away on business. ‘I thought there might be a cute boy involved.’

  Since I can’t tell her there’s a business involved, I go along with her boy theory. ‘Kali does have a brother, and like most guys, he’s a jerk.’

  ‘Ah, right,’ Mom says. ‘Still mourning Rico?’

  I’m not mourning, but you don’t get over that kind of thing in a day.

  Given how drained she looks, Mom hasn’t exactly bounced back from her split with Dad, either. Having my grandparents around and starving through Ramadan can’t be helping her recuperation. Still, I can’t let her think it’s all good between us, so I use her special one-word technique. ‘Mom.’

  ‘Just asking.’ She hands me a gift-wrapped box. ‘I put together some lotions for Kali’s mom to thank her for letting my messy daughter take over her kitchen.’

  It occurs to me that this might be just the thing Mom needs to take her mind off both her breakup and what Nana calls ‘spiritual growth.’ ‘Hey, Mom, have you given any more thought to starting your own business?’

  Turning her back, she starts unloading the dishwasher. ‘I wouldn’t know where to begin.’

  It’s the first time she hasn’t shot me down outright, so I keep going. ‘You helped Dad launch his company, so you probably learnt a lot. And what you don’t know, he can teach you.’

  ‘I will not ask your father to help me with anything.’ Her normally soft voice has an edge. ‘He wouldn’t have time anyway. Saliyah said he was barely around when she stayed with you last week.’

  She’s digging for ammo. ‘He had dinner with us every night.’ It’s technically true, although Saliyah and I had long since finished when Dad joined us in front of the TV with leftovers. ‘He works a lot because he’s depressed. If you let him move back, he’d spend more time at home.’ I haven’t pressured her for a while, but my success with Trey and Lauren has renewed my interest in mediating.

  Mom places mugs on hooks in the cupboard. ‘I didn’t evict him, you know. He called the movers himself.’

  Hitting the same old wall, I go back to my first point. ‘How about renting a table at the Eid carnival?’ I ask. ‘It’s only for a weekend. Saliyah and I will help you set up, and Nani can brainwash everyone into buying twice as much as they need.’

  ‘It would be too much work on such short notice,’ she says, clattering plates on purpose to drown me out.

  In other words, this is going to cost me more than a weekend. ‘I’ll help you.’

  Mom reaches for her bottle of bleach, and pauses. ‘And you’d spend the whole day with us? From dawn to dusk?’

  Dawn to dusk is an eternity when my grandparents are involved. But it’s a lot of goodwill in the bank. ‘OK.’

  My sister joins us in the kitchen and squeals with delight when she sees the cupcakes. ‘Those are awesome! I’ll win the iPod Touch for sure.’

  ‘Since when are there prizes at school bake sales? All I ever got was ribbons.’

  Saliyah’s eyes widen as she realizes her mistake. ‘Sometimes the person who brings in the most cash gets a prize. Nothing big. Just video games, DVDs, an iPod.’

  The last word is almost inaudible – a giveaway. ‘You won an iPod with my baking and didn’t tell me?’

  From the look on Mom’s face, Saliyah didn’t tell her either.

  ‘It was just a Shuffle.’ She turns to bellow, ‘Nani! Zahra’s here. Come look at her cupcakes.’

  Nani hustles into the kitchen. She’s wearing a mustardcolored tunic with bright green trim and matching pants. I guess when you’re five-foot-nothing you t
ry to get noticed in other ways. ‘Zahra! Have you had any interesting calls this week?’

  I lean against the counter. ‘Interesting, no. But what’s his name from the festival committee called.’

  ‘Riaz? Already! That’s a good sign.’ She’s beaming.

  ‘He said that you said he’s hot.’

  ‘Hot?’

  ‘He thought you wanted to hook up, but you’re not really his type, so he asked me to let you down easy,’ I say.

  Nani looks at mom. ‘What is she saying?’

  Mom shakes her head, fighting a smile. ‘I really can’t translate it, Ammi.’

  ‘Are you making fun of me?’ Nani scowls. ‘I was only trying to help you find a nice young man.’

  ‘I don’t need help, Nani. Save your energy for Saliyah’s bake sale. She wants to take your burfi.’ My grandmother brags that she makes the best burfi in Karachi. That may be true, but Saliyah and I aren’t fans of the supersweet, condensed-milk dessert. ‘It’s a definite prizewinner. Plus, it’ll give her a chance to show off her culture to her friends.’

  My sister looks worried. ‘These cupcakes are really all I need, Zahra. And if I win the iPod Touch, I promise I’ll let you borrow it whenever you want.’

  I look at my mother. ‘Did she just say that when my cupcakes win, she’d like to borrow my iPod Touch whenever I say it’s OK?’

  ‘That’s what I heard,’ Mom says.

  While Saliyah whines, Mom tells Nani about our plans for the Eid carnival. Instead of showing enthusiasm for Mom’s business, however, Nani grabs my sleeve. ‘When you meet Riaz, I want you to tie your hair back and put on some black eyeliner. And don’t make any of your jokes.’

  ‘So what you’re saying is, “Shut up and look pretty.”‘

  ‘Why do you have to twist everything?’ Nani says.

  Mom rubs her forehead. ‘Zahra.’

  It means the usual: ‘Must you?’ And the answer is yes. Because the day I take romance advice from my grandmother is the day I pack it in completely.

  I hate running. The only thing I hate more than running is people who say they love running. Searing lungs and aching muscles cannot feel good to anyone. As for the ‘runner’s high’ people brag about, it’s either a delusion brought on by dehydration, or a ruse to bring suckers into the cult. I’ve tried it again and again, and I’ve never felt anything but miserable.