by Paloma Meir
“They booted my car,” He smiled and Faye put down her coffee cup and looked away. She considered whether or not to consult a psychologist for the heightened moods she had been experiencing for the previous two months. “Hollywood, the street signs, who can read them? I don’t even know why I paid the tickets. The car’s in impound and won’t even start.”
“Oh…” Faye wished he would stop talking to her, “Maybe you should find a parking lot, pay a monthly fee. I’m sure it would be cheaper than the parking tickets.” She wondered why she had responded to him, encouraging conversation. The boyish man appeared to be only a few years older than her daughters.
“I don’t have money for that,” He laughed again. The sweet trill of the high notes sent shivers of happiness through her.
“You found the money to pay the tickets.” She gave up on wishing him away. Laura and Serge would be coming for her soon. She would never see him again, why not have a moment of fun. “Plan better,” she shrugged and a smile larger than his filled her face.
“Yeah, that’s easy to say when you can afford half the bakery,” He gestured towards Faye’s tray filled high with every imaginable pastry. “You going to eat all those? Carb loading, I didn’t know L.A women did that. You’re too tiny to eat all of them. Your stomach will explode. Here, I’ll help you out.” He scooted down the bench close to Faye, his hip against hers and took a croissant from the tower of baked goods.
“You’re a cheeky one,” She thought of scooting away from him, not too far, the electricity running through her was pleasing, but far enough that their bodies weren’t touching. She decided against it.
“There’s no way you can eat all of them,” He ravenously tore off the edge of the croissant with his teeth.
“I was going to take a bite of each…”
“That’s wasteful,” he said through a mouthful of food.
“I’m planning on having a very wasteful day.”
“Wasteful, huh?” He laughed, “Well then lady… You take your bites, and I’ll take the leftovers back home with me. I live in a shithole-converted garage… No refrigerator, bad plumbing, no heat in the winter. Your leftovers will last me a couple of days.”
“You can’t live on pastries. That’s not a balanced diet,” She turned to him and their eyes met again. A mistake. She felt the breath leave her body as he jerked backwards, a surprised expression on his face. She was sure whatever silliness she was feeling, he felt too. She looked down at her hands and wished Laura and Serge would come get her already. “Why don’t you move?”
“I’m broke,” he replied.
“You’re young, all young people are broke,” she shrugged, “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m not that young. I do as little as possible.”
“But what is it you do, when you do as little possible?” She tilted her head up but avoided looking directly at him. She didn’t want to risk another rush of the crushing joy.
“You ask a lot of questions, but I’ll answer them because I’m taking these muffins home with me. Mostly film production, a set runner, get the coffee. If I’m broke, like I was this morning, I’ll answer a Craigslist ad, deliver a package. Big money in that, got my tickets taken care of…”
“Have you considered what’s in the packages?” Faye scooted away, not much at all but she did successfully make her displeasure with his choices known, “Drugs, what else could it be? You could go to jail for that, and you shouldn’t be telling strangers. I could be a police officer on lunch break.” She pointed down the road towards the municipal building they had both just come from.
“I don’t ask what’s in the packages… And I don’t take drugs, well not too many. Club drugs when I’m out… And you’re not a cop. I get people and you’re not a narc.” He shoved the croissant in his mouth.
Faye watched him chew with gusto. There was something so familiar to her about him. Adam had the same reckless quality when she had first met him but he had been ambitious. He had been driven, wanting to make money, grab all he could, and he did. Holding on to money was Adam’s problem.
“You’re cheeky and amoral,” she laughed gently.
“If it’s not me, they’ll hire someone else. The drugs are going to get where they’re going. They always have, and they always will. I don’t do it that much anyway. Only when I’m stuck like this.” He took a scone from the high pile.
“Aren’t you worried about getting arrested?”
“Me?” He laughed, his body rocked against Faye’s. She resisted the urge to curl up onto him, “I’m a white boy. I look like an angel. Cop’s aren’t going to stop me.”
“You do look like an angel,” Their eyes met and for the briefest of moments Faye was sure the boyish man was going to kiss her.
“Faye,” Laura’s voice boomed through the outdoor seating area of the coffeehouse, pulling Faye out of the dream-like moment, “There you are…”
“Just having some coffee,” Faye held her cup up to Laura as if she needed to provide proof.
“You could easily buy the coffeehouse,” She held a check out to Faye, “You’re a very rich woman, Ms. Petrov.” Faye took the check from her and felt the heat of the boyish man look over her shoulder.
“Lottery? I thought you were taking care of parking tickets like me…”
“Maybe you don’t “get” people as well as you think.” Faye stood up and didn’t look back at the boyish man.
“Serge is going to meet us as the bank…” Laura said to Faye as they walked away.
“Hey rich lady,” He called out, laughing, “Be my benefactor. I’m starving out here.”
“A benefactor suggests that you as the benefactee, have a goal, usually artistic. Do you have a goal? What is it you want to be?” She turned to him, a smile stuck on her face.
“Lady, I’ll be whatever you want me to be.” He tilted his head and stared deeply in her eyes. She wished he would stop doing that. Her insides turned to jelly.
“I don’t know what you mean by that… But I think I can help you.” She dug into her handbag and pulled out a set of keys and the checkbook for her new identity. She tore the check, leaving only the address of her imposter apartment on the beach.
“A one bedroom apartment overlooking the beach in Venice. It’s fully furnished, so no need to bring your, I’m sure highly questionable, furniture with you. It’s quite nice, refrigerator, a heater that works, air conditioning, secured parking for your car that won’t start. There’s ten months left on the lease, more than enough to pursue your “art”.” She dropped the keys and scrap of paper on the table and turned back to Laura.
“Are you serious?” He asked.
“Yes, I am.” Faye glanced back at him, “Don’t make a mess of it. Don’t make me regret this. No loud parties, blaring music and no club drugs. I’ll call the building manager and let him know my nephew will be staying there. My nephew would be you.” She felt a shiver of shock, lying was coming far to easily for her.
“Lady,” He looked down at the deposit slip, “Faye, I was just kidding but if you’re serious—
“I am serious about you not destroying the apartment.”
“I’ll be good… Don’t you want to know my name?”
“Not really. This will be our last communication.”
“It’s Nick, Nick Andrews, and thank you.” His eyes met hers again, and she forcefully shook her head away.
“All the heartbreakers are always named Nick.” Faye said as she walked away with Laura.
“What did you just do?” Laura asked.
“I’ve allowed myself the privilege of making one frivolous mistake with the money. I assumed the mistake would be me buying a couture dress better suited to an evening at the Met than my quiet life of dinner parties with friends but this is fun too.”
“I’m sure it is… That kid was gorgeous… Be careful, money does things…”
“Believe me, I’m aware of all the dangers. I’ve been binge watching lottery horror stor
ies… But thank you for the reminder.”
“You have planned well… You’ll be good,” She patted Faye’s arm, “We have to rush. Serge has a meeting later in the day and we want to take you to a celebratory lunch first. The Ivy, so good… I love it there.”
“I haven’t eaten there in years. Thank you.”
Faye was relieved that Laura’s mention of Serge’s name didn’t send the familiar butterflies to her heart. Happily relieved. For the briefest of moments, she fiercely craved Adam’s company. But not the present-day Adam, the Adam she met as a girl. The powerful feeling overwhelmed her, and she felt faint again. A psychologist was definitely in order, she thought to herself.
Nick, the boyish man, left her thoughts completely.
Chapter Seven
Faye stretched her arms over her head and yawned as she glanced at the time on her computer. It was a little past midnight, late for her to be up. She seldom stayed up later than 10:30 since her daughters had gone away to school.
“One more…” She muttered to herself as she clicked open a new entry on kiva.org, a website that provided microloans to women in developing countries. She had managed to provide eighty loans in the previous few hours, totaling a little over 48,000 dollars.
She was growing frustrated, she had hoped to disperse at least 100,000 dollars on her first day as a multi-millionaire. The microloans, and she never intended them to pay her back, she had set up the system to reloan the money to others upon repayment, were meaningful. The tiny amounts tangible, truly helping the women to set up little businesses, or attend university in their far off regions.
She knew it would be easier and quicker to just hit the lend button instead of reading all the stories, but she was entranced by the bravery of the women. At the rate she was going it would take the entire year, a year spent in front of the computer, to rid herself of the money. She closed the window and leaned back in her chair, wondering how she could summon the energy to climb up the stairs and get into bed.
“What are you doing down here?” Adam surprised her and asked as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck. “I don’t like waking up alone.”
“Ummm,” She leaned into his embrace, extending her neck, savoring the sensation of his lips her throat, “The Bergdorf’s account is taking up so much of my time.”
“My mogul wife…” He released her and swiveled her chair around to face him, “I had a nightmare… Dario and I were in a field, dogs were chasing us… and you know Dario, clumsy. He tripped, the hellhounds tore at his legs. He was bleeding so much. I beat them back with rocks and they ran away but Dario was gone… I was alone… and then I woke up… alone in the bed.”
“Oh my darling,” She pulled him to her chest, “It was so long ago, the dogs are gone forever. Dario’s safe, and you’re safe…” She ran her hands through his thick, silky hair.
“Sometimes I think if I go back, if we go back with the girls… I would see its just land with people like anywhere else. I’m not a child anymore. I’m a man—
“A strong man…” She murmured and kissed the top of his head.
“I am, don’t let this moment fool you,” he gently laughed, “Maybe it would put an end to these night terrors.”
“You’ve been thinking about going back since Anja was born. The time is now Adam. The summer’s coming up, the girls will be home. We could go then, bring Dario…”
“Not this summer…” His tense emotions shifted, and he began listing all the responsibilities of his job.
Faye’s mind wandered as he evaded the real subject. She thought of the orphanages and group homes in Croatia, maybe it would be better for her to just turn the winnings over to them, provide better care for the abandoned children. No, she thought to herself, it wasn’t that bad then, and it certainly wasn’t now.
Adam and Dario had just fallen through every conceivable crack, and their constant running away hadn’t helped either. Their current emotional problems, or more Adam’s, Dario hadn’t been as affected by their dangerous living conditions, he had his protective older brother making sure all of his needs were met, were not the fault of the childcare system.
“That is a busy schedule you have planned for yourself, but maybe a week or two at the end of summer. Will you think about it at least?”
“Maybe the next summer,” He jumped up and held his hand out to Faye, “Come to bed, it’s very late.”
“Think about this summer,” She took his hand and stood up, “I was reading a news story about the Gates Foundation and their goal of eradicating Malaria in Africa. That’s a noble cause, don’t you think? It affects 200 million people a year. Can you imagine if they actually did put an end to the disease? I’ve always thought potable water and food distributions were the most urgent problems in the world, but there are so many problems. What do you think is the most pressing issue?”
“What?” He laughed and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him, “Getting you into bed right now is my most pressing problem.”
“No, really…” She nuzzled into his strong arms.
“I don’t know, Faye. Africa is far away. There are problems right outside our door. What is it they say? Think globally, act locally? If we were going by that rule of thumb, I would say homelessness. That’s a million problems in itself, so many roots, so many different causes… It’s hard to see the kids on the street, digging through our trash for food.”
“You’re not that kid anymore.” She stopped him at the top of the stairs and hugged him tightly.
“Faye,” He stiffened in her embrace, “You asked me a question about charitable causes, not about myself.” He lifted her hair and kissed her neck again in the way he knew she loved. She melted in his arms.
“I love you, Adam…”
“Show me you love me,” He picked her up off her feet and carried her to bed.
…
Faye woke up sleepy, sublimely sleepy and stretched out in the bed wishing Adam hadn’t gotten up to shower. She wanted to spend the day entwined with him, and never leave their bed. The jaunty ringtone on his phone destroyed her fantasy.
Anger filled her, and she picked up the phone, something she had never done before. She was prepared to scream at the girl, send her away forever, maybe even confront Adam about his infidelities for the first time. But the ringtone wasn’t a phone call, it was a text message.
The message she read was sexually graphic beyond her comprehension and written in baby talk. She threw the phone back on the bedside table and put on her clothes that lay on the floor from the night before and stormed towards the door.
“Where are you going?” Adam opened the door to the bathroom and asked, “I was going to make you breakfast in bed, pick up where we left off last night.”
She turned to him, anger coursing though her veins, but she sighed heavily in spite of herself. The masculine beauty of her husband, his olive skin and broad shoulders never failed to send a flutter through her, “I’ve never been anything but good to you.”
“Faye…” He nervously glanced at his phone.
“I deserve better.”
She slammed the door and ran out into the street to get in her car. A disheveled boy with a dog on a rope slept under the tree in their front yard. The anger drained from her as his sleeping shape morphed into her husband as boy. She tiptoed towards him and carefully slid a twenty-dollar bill under his arm, got into her car and drove to her workspace.
Chapter Eight
A little over a month later, a very quiet and cold month for the Petrovs, Faye rushed out of her house to the car. She had an appointment with a realtor in Laguna. The personal financial aspects and setting up of the trust accounts for her family was going very well. The only item left for their future monetary security was the purchase of a home by the beach.
She planned to pay for it in cash. No mortgages for her. Her financial planner had protested, but Faye had remained firm in that decision. She never wanted to worry about money aga
in in her life after all of the lottery madness was over.
She was running late and had her phone open in her hand, searching for the quickest route in the morning traffic. She didn’t notice the boyish man standing by her car. She was not happy when she looked up from her phone and saw him not more than ten feet away from her.
“What are you doing here?” She quickly looked over her shoulder to see if Adam was anywhere near.
“Relax, he left five minutes ago.” He laughed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She opened the door to her car, willing him far away.
“Your husband, the one you’re keeping all the secrets from.”
“I’m not keeping any secrets from him,” Faye shouted out. The lies had ceased causing her distress sometime over the previous month. Truths had become her struggle, “I’ve checked in with the building manager. He told me you’re fine, no noise complaints, well mannered. So, what is it you’re here for? I’m very busy.”
“Really, no secrets huh?” An amused expression passed through his eyes. Faye forced herself not to smile, “He knows about your unlived-in apartment down the road? That you let a stranger move in, rent-free?”
“Are you blackmailing me?” She slammed the car door and stood stiffly in front of him, arms crossed. Her fierce position was more cute than threatening, causing Nick to laugh again.
“I wouldn’t necessarily say that’s something I would never do, but no that’s not why I’m here.”
“So you’re planning on eventually blackmailing me?”
“No Faye,” He held up his arm, boy scout-style, “I am not going to blackmail you, and I promise to never blackmail you. I just never thought of doing it to anyone before. I’m adding it to my skill set if times get tough again. Thanks for the idea.”
“Well… okay,” She rolled her eyes and opened the car door, “I have to be going now. Good of you to check in. You won’t have to do it again. Bye.” She waved him away and got into her car.
