Disowned

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Disowned Page 22

by Tikiri


  By the time I got to the office, I was already two hours behind. If Dick had been around, he’d have given me a good yelling. Luckily for me, it was the slow season. By the end of the summer, party orders fell as people stayed home to pay for their bills and their sins of the season. I walked in to see Katy sitting in her chair in the alcove and chewing her pencil, which was never a good sign. She wrinkled her nose as soon as I came through the door.

  “What’s that stink?”

  “Long story. I need to wash up,” I said, walking toward the washroom with my smelly bag in tow.

  “You won’t believe who just called,” Katy said, following me to the back of the store. “With an emergency.”

  I stopped and turned around. I knew there was more bad news somewhere.

  “Who?”

  “The Pasty sisters.”

  Chapter Forty-four

  Dick’s business had two kinds of clients.

  The first were those who called for regular catering services. If we did our job well—that is, with minimal interference from Dick the Douchebag—they gave us repeat business. Then, there were clients who called us at the last minute because their principal supplier had bailed, or whoever was in charge of the committee for catering had forgotten to place the order in the first place. It was surprising how often this happened. These clients were one-offs, driven by one emergency or other—except, of course, the Pasty sisters.

  Katy once compared the sisters to unhappy bulldogs. They were both big, buxom ladies in their fifties who liked garish makeup and didn’t seem to realize the colors only accentuated their jowls. They liked flowery, showy clothes with lots of eye-stinging colors, ruffles, and folds, which made them look larger than they were. They were the event planners at Dick’s church and operated in perpetual crisis mode. How they called themselves planners with a straight face boggled my mind. Katy and I hated dealing with them, but Dick refused to drop them from our roster because he had a “reputation to uphold at the church,” or so he told us.

  “Oh no, please not today,” I said with a groan. “Jeez.”

  “Jeeeez,” said a voice from a corner of the bathroom.

  “Not now, Jim,” I said, throwing a napkin in his direction. Jim wasn’t allowed in the kitchen or the bathroom, but he, like his owner Dick, was as stubborn as a donkey. I was sure if a health inspector ever visited us, we’d be shut down in an instant.

  Katy picked him up.

  “Jeeeez,” Jim repeated, settling on Katy’s sleeve. Once he caught on to a new word, that was all we heard for weeks. It was annoying, to say the least. “Jeeeez.”

  “They want us to cater to a party of forty by ten this morning,” Katy said. “That gives you exactly, oh, a full fifty five minutes.”

  “Forty! By ten?”

  “For a charity event—cupcakes, tea, and coffee.”

  “Do we have a choice?”

  “Not if we don’t want to get fired. Again.”

  Katy walked out of the kitchen to lock Jim in the office and returned as I was turning on the clothes washer.

  “Do you want to hear the list of their needs?”

  I turned around to see her consulting a piece of paper in her hand.

  “There are a few guests with allergies to milk, one to strawberries, another with gluten issues, and nothing we bring should have touched any nut of any kind, whatsoever.” She looked up and made a face.

  “Makes our lives easier, doesn’t it?” I said, shaking my head. “What excuse did the sisters come up with this time?”

  “Their caterer got poisoned.”

  “Poisoned?”

  “Allergic reaction of some sort,” Katy said as she walked back to her office. “To the sisters, I’m sure. I’ll come and help you in a minute.”

  I checked the kitchen counter carefully before I touched anything. It was something I did every morning since I’d started working here. Every time I walked into the kitchen in the morning, I got this uncanny feeling someone had been working on the counter or in the sink the night before. Every morning, I discovered one or two things had moved overnight. It was strange, and I couldn’t imagine Dick staying overnight cooking or even making a midnight snack. But I didn’t have time to think about that now. I had work to do. I opened the cabinets looking for the ingredients I needed.

  Working at lightning speed, I rustled up forty hypoallergenic nut-less, plain vanilla cupcakes, one pot of black tea, and another pot of coffee. Katy came out of her bookkeeping cave to help me with the drinks and packing. We piled everything into our delivery van and dashed to the church. There, the Pasty sisters were waiting impatiently at the basement door. They were quite the sight, and as usual, they didn’t look too pleased to see us.

  “My good Lord! Could you come any slower? What kept you, girls? Hurry up!” one of them said, clapping at us like she was ushering in children.

  “We’ve waited an hour. You could get organized, you know,” the other sister said, her badly painted lips set in a scowl. Katy and I looked at each other. We only got the order two hours ago. We always paid for the chaos they created for themselves.

  I walked in carrying the cake tray, but just as I was about to step into the doorway, I heard a yell and swiveled around to see one of the sisters flapping her ruffled sleeves like a deranged tropical bird. I looked at her in alarm.

  “Are you okay?” I asked her.

  “You can’t walk in like that!” she shrieked.

  “What? Why?” I stared at her. Did I still smell? I sniffed the air. I’d washed up thoroughly before I started cooking. What’s wrong? I noticed Katy gawking at the back of my skirt.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” I asked her.

  “You’re unbelievable,” Katy whispered to me.

  “What did I do?” I whispered back in alarm. My new skirt was an inch above my knees. It wasn’t a nun’s black habit, but I hadn’t realized it would be a no-go for a church’s basement. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “What’s wrong with it?” Katy’s eyes opened wide.

  “Yes, what’s wrong with everyone?” I said.

  “Your skirt says ‘Booty for Hire’ in the back.”

  Chapter Forty-five

  “No!” I said, horrified.

  I craned my neck but couldn’t see a thing. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered fiercely.

  “I didn’t notice!” Katy whispered just as fiercely back. “Besides, I don’t go around looking at the back of your skirt.”

  “You’re not going inside the good Lord’s house dressed like a hooker!” squealed one of the Pasty sisters, pointing a finger at me.

  I stared at her open-mouthed. Hooker?

  “We don’t care how you dress for your night job. You can’t come in here dressed like that!” squawked the other.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Night job?”

  “Here, let me take that for you,” Katy said, quickly putting her coffee pot down and grabbing my cake platter. “You go wait in the car, okay?”

  I let her take the tray and stumbled back to the van with my head down and shoulders hunched. My back tingled as if the whole world was watching and laughing. I pulled the driver’s door open, jumped in, and slammed it shut. That’s what I got for buying in the preteen department.

  “Did you see their faces?” Katy said on our way back to the office. I’d laid low in the van the whole time Katy had done the delivery. It was a relief to head back to the shop. “The way they looked when they saw your skirt,” she said with a grin. “That was hilarious.”

  “Hilarious?” I was still smarting. “They were mean. I didn’t even know. Who makes skirts for twelve-year-olds with ‘Booty for Hire’ in the back? Seriously?”

  “That’s nasty. You should look before buying,” Katy said. “I guess we’re off the Pasty Sister’s emergency list now. At least there’s that.”

  I sighed. Dick was not going to be happy. Again.

  “Real bulldogs are nicer than those two.” Katy giggled.


  “And better looking,” I said.

  Katy pretended to flap her arms around like the Pasty Sisters did. “Come on, it was funny,” she said, smiling broadly. “Admit it.” She gave a friendly punch to my arm.

  Pretty soon, we were collapsing in giggles. We laughed till tears streamed down our cheeks, and we were no longer sure if it was because of what had happened or from hearing our own cackles.

  We finally pulled into one of the parking spaces dedicated to the Next Day Catering Company. Our office was a hole in the wall, huddled between a sleazy video rental store and a pawn shop. It wasn’t in the best of neighborhoods, so I was surprised to see a brand-new black Mercedes with Michigan plates parked next to Dick’s car.

  “Who’s that, you think?” I asked.

  “That’s Jose,” Katy said.

  “Jose? The guy Dick owes money to?”

  “Yup. He’s Dick’s business partner from Detroit. He moved from Colombia to the States a few years ago, I think.”

  “So what does he do? Other than lend money.”

  “He’s in the car business and a big shot down south. He always drives up in fancy cars. Tony, Dick’s brother, works for him. Jose’s much nicer than Dick.”

  “C’mon. Everyone’s nicer than Dick.”

  “You know what he did once?” Katy said, not hearing me. “Jose saved a kid from drowning in a pool. He jumped in and saved the boy’s life. He’s a super nice guy. Not like Dick.” She paused. “Though Dick’s not half-bad.”

  “How in the world can you find Dick anywhere near not-half-bad?” I said, looking at my friend. “He looks like a hit man, and acts like one too.”

  “Have you ever met a real hit man?”

  “No, but….”

  “A cute hit man then,” Katy said with a giggle. “But Jose’s the real hot one, you’ll see.” I shook my head. My friend’s taste in men was something I’d never understand.

  We got out and walked into the building. I’d planned to use one of Katy’s scarves to cover my skirt. It was in her office and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it. I followed her inside and turned to close the door.

  “Oy! How much?”

  Someone was hollering from the dark corner of the corridor. I looked over my shoulder to see a younger, thinner, slimier version of Dick staring at the back of my skirt. I felt my face go warm.

  “How much for a ten-minute job, eh?” said the slime with a wink.

  I looked away, embarrassed.

  “I got cash, honey.”

  “That’s not a nice thing to say,” I heard my voice say, the smartest comeback I could think of at the time.

  “Don’t get all hissy on me,” he said with a smirk. “You’re the one advertising booty.” The man grinned at his own bad joke. Before I could say anything, he turned to the office at the back. “See you at the track tomorrow, Dick. And bring your bimbos with you. They’re cute.” He threw a cigarette butt on the floor and swaggered out. I didn’t move a muscle. I couldn’t.

  “Tell me that didn’t happen,” I said finally.

  “That’s Tony for you,” Katy said with a grim look on her face. “He could’ve been worse.”

  “Not possible,” I said.

  “Are those damn girls back?” The roar came from Dick’s office. Katy and I looked at each other in alarm.

  Dick limped out, his face flushed, like he’d been drinking for a while now. Behind him was a drop-dead-good-looking, olive-skinned man with curly black hair, dressed in a finely tailored pinstripe suit. He looked sharp except for—is that one of my pink vanilla cupcakes in his hands? Next to me, Katy took a sharp breath when he strutted out. I looked at her. She was staring at him with starstruck eyes. This had to be Jose.

  I was about to nudge her when Dick bellowed at us.

  “Guess which dimwits just called?” he yelled, waving a piece of paper in front of him. “The blasted Thompson sisters, that’s who!”

  “Oh? You mean the Pasty Sis—” I caught myself in time and closed my mouth. Dick glared at me.

  “Jeeeez!” Jim said, flying out of the office and settling on Dick’s shoulder to get a better vantage point of the ruckus.

  “What the hell were you girls thinking, going to my church dressed like whores?”

  Katy and I stood rooted on the spot, speechless. Jose stood next to Dick looking cool. It was unnerving to see the two together, one raging mad like a bull in a rodeo and the other as collected as a proud peacock.

  “If I wanted you to dance at my nightclub, I’d have hired you there. You’re running a bakery for me here! A bakery! Are you stupid or what? Jeezuz!” Dick’s eyes looked like they’d pop out any moment. The veins on his neck were bulging, ready to burst. He was going to die of a heart attack one of these days, I was sure of it.

  “Jeeeezuz!” Jim said, delighted to hear his master use his new word. “Jeeeezuz!”

  “Come on, man, don’t be so mean,” Jose said in a soft southern drawl. “You’re being hard on the girls.”

  “These women called me ranting and raving about insulting their church. My church, goddammit!” Dick said, not paying one iota of attention to his friend. “Is that true?”

  “Well… er…” What do I even say? All I gotta do is make sure I don’t turn my back to him.

  “You made me lose two hundred bucks today, because they refused to pay.” Dick was still shouting. “Do I look like I can afford crap like that? Are you proud of yourselves now?”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, my heart sinking. “I didn’t mean to make us lose a sale.”

  “I don’t give a crap about your sorries. I’ve had enough of you!”

  “Jeeeezuz,” Jim said to me in a mocking tone, shaking his head from side to side.

  Part of me wanted to throw my tray at Dick’s head and run away, get out of this hellhole forever. But if I did that, how would I ever get back to Goa? Plus, I couldn’t leave Katy alone with this crazed man.

  “Hey, you heard her,” Jose said, his mouth half full of cake. “She said she’s sorry.”

  “I can hire any idiot off the street to work for me,” Dick said. “I don’t need these two ruining my business.”

  “You won’t find cute ladies who can bake like this. Seriously, you gotta try one.”

  “Hrrump,” Dick growled.

  “Man, you got a heart of steel,” his friend said. “I vote they stay.”

  “Don’t you start with me now,” Dick snapped as he turned to leave.

  “Hey, don’t you still owe me on that loan?” Jose asked quietly.

  “So?” I noticed a slight waver in Dick’s voice.

  “So?” Jose said. “The deal was, until you pay me back, I own half the company.”

  Silence. Even Jim was listening intently now.

  “And that, my good friend,” Jose said, “means you’ve got to consult me in every major company decision. And I say no to firing these lovely ladies.”

  Dick’s glare could have wiped out the entire city of Toronto. “You’d sell your mother for a buck if you could. What are you getting out of this?”

  “Just making a smart business decision,” Jose said, with a wink in our direction. “The ladies stay.”

  Katy blushed.

  Without a word, Dick swung around and strode back to his office with such force Jim lost his balance.

  The bird fluttered desperately for a few seconds before catching air. A deafening parrot screech and colorful feathers filled the room. He circled over our heads, making us all duck, before following his master into the office.

  Chapter Forty-six

  Four weeks after Jose turned up in our lives, Katy told me what really happened when she was a child.

  Jose’s entrance into our lives had transformed Katy into a bubbly schoolgirl again, high on the attention he was giving her. Dick seemed only happy to hand over the management to his partner and spend his days at the track, his nights at the strip clubs, and all Sundays at church, reciting Hail Marys for whatever he did during
the rest of the week. He’d never been serious with Katy and had enough girls to play with at his nightclub, so he didn’t seem to care what was happening right under his nose. That, or he knew he was no longer the alpha dog, and simply seceded his place to avoid a fight he knew he’d lose.

  On our way home from the bakery after a hard day of work, Katy and I decided on takeout from the Chinese restaurant downstairs. It was late when we walked in, and the place had just closed for the night. The entire family was sitting around a table having supper. Everyone was there: grandparents, parents, uncles, aunts, cousins, and kids. Despite us trying to leave quickly, the grandmother got up and insisted on serving us a takeaway plate from their dishes. She refused to take any money and sent us on our way with one of the few English words she knew, “Enjoy, enjoy.”

  We took the container upstairs, kicked off our heels, got into comfy pajamas, and sat at our kitchen table to feast on a delicious chow mein meal.

  “What a nice family,” I said. “Think they always have dinner together like that.”

  “Lucky them,” Katy said.

  “Fun family dinners stopped for me after my parents died,” I said, remembering how supper with Grandma had always been a silent affair, not knowing what she’d spring on us.

  “Mine were living and we never had dinner together. Ever.”

  I turned to Katy. “Hey, you never told me why you ran away from home.”

  “Didn’t I?” she said. I couldn’t help but notice she wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  I shook my head.

  “My uncle raped me when I was ten.”

  It took a second to get what she’d just said. I stared at her open-mouthed.

  “For two whole years.”

  My chopsticks fell on the floor, spilling warm noodles on the table. As if she’d said the most normal thing in the world, Katy got up, took a dishcloth from the kitchen sink, and started to wipe the table. I sat still, gaping at her, unsure how to react.

 

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