by Mary Robison
“What a shame,” Virginia said. “It’s one of the four major food groups.”
Down in the yard, in the branches of the saplings, starlings were landing and making noise. A bat careened crazily out over the line of woods.
“Well, I better stir myself,” Lola said.
“Can I have supper?” Violet said.
“So where are you two going to, all gussied up?” Maureen said.
“We’re not sure. We’re narrowing it down,” Cleveland said.
“I can’t get over how you both look. Especially Virginia,” Lola said. She was up and dusting the back of her Levi’s with her hands.
Cleveland said, “Lovely. Virginia looks lovely.”
“Just like little Violet,” Virginia said. “Only Violet doesn’t need all the lipstick and the makeup.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Maureen said. She took another swallow of beer. “Maybe Vi could use a little eyeliner.”
“Help me heat the soup,” Lola said. She snatched at Violet’s hand and led her off the balcony.
“Good night,” Violet called.
Virginia waved good-bye, swinging her whole arm in a wide arc. It was the good-bye wave she used on her television show.
Cleveland cleared his throat and walked Virginia the short distance to the balcony railing. Virginia turned her face to the pink sun and leaned on the rail and crossed her thin legs at the ankle.
“Hey,” Cleveland said, “I’ve got a bone to pick with you, Maureen.”
Maureen made a great sigh, and then put a wingseed between her teeth and idly chewed its stem. “Oh, really,” she said.
“I picked up the phone downstairs, to make reservations somewhere,” Cleveland said, “and somebody was already on the line—Chris. He was waiting for you to come to the phone. He’d been waiting, he said, for almost a half hour.”
“That’s awful,” Maureen said.
“You think it’s funny to tie up the phones like that? What if an emergency call were trying to get through?”
Maureen gulped the last of her beer. “Give me a for instance of the emergency you’re expecting.”
“Don’t get smart,” Cleveland said. “I warn you, I’m pretty mad.”
“Settle down,” Maureen said.
“You see how she is?” Cleveland said. He turned back to Maureen. “Look, if you don’t want to talk to someone, tell him, and get off the damn line in case of an emergency.”
“What’s all these emergency calls?” Maureen said. “Is this the White House?”
“You’re testing me,” Cleveland said. “Don’t test me.”
11
Lola was standing on the kitchen counter, reaching into the top shelf of a high cabinet. The overhead lights snapped on. “You’ll ruin your eyes,” Cleveland said.
She sat down on the counter, her shoulders slumped with fatigue. “Violet’s cooperating so far,” she said. “I got her fed and in her room with the portable television.”
“That’s good,” Cleveland said. “That way you can really hit the books tonight. Virginia and I are stepping out soon, so we won’t bother you. You got Maureen mooning around on the roof, though. Where’s Howdy?”
“I don’t know, but there’s food,” Lola said. “I have food for everybody. It’s under foil in the stove.”
“Well,” Cleveland said, “if the furnace explodes or there’s a forest fire, you have Howdy take care of it. Don’t consider calling me at the restaurant. If Violet gets taken hostage, or a strangler breaks in and kills Maureen, you’re to phone the police. In the event you have an appendicitis attack, let Howdy operate. Don’t disturb me for anything except if you’ve been cut off by army ants.”
“Hell, I can handle army ants,” Lola said.
“You look beat,” Cleveland said. He nodded sympathetically and glanced around the kitchen. “Where’d you hide my Scotch?”
“Cupboard over the trash compactor.”
Cleveland mixed two drinks with soda and ice. He said, “Violet’s being good for a change?”
“Um hmm. She’s an awfully good child.” On the counter there was a newspaper opened to the crossword puzzle. Lola took a pencil from her smock and touched it to the tip of her tongue. “Sweetmeats!” she said, and wrote the word in. She looked up at Cleveland. “Maybe you ought to think about going wherever you’re going.”
“I’m minding the time,” Cleveland said.
Virginia came into the kitchen. She had been freshening her makeup in the downstairs bathroom and she was tugging at the bodice of her gown and fingering her pearls as she walked.
“My stars and garters,” Cleveland said. He handed Virginia a glass.
She sipped and shook the ice. “Have we decided?”
“My vote is for the Steak Warehouse. They have lots of seating and all kinds of entertainment stuff. It’s a converted factory is what it is,” Cleveland said. “With a barbershop quartet that strolls around. Mickey Rooney ate there.”
“I hear it’s terrible,” Virginia said.
“The waiters are on roller skates,” Cleveland said.
“I’m sold,” Lola said. “Too bad I’m not invited.”
Virginia said, “I was thinking of the Rue de Lenoire.”
“Here’s the problem with that,” Cleveland said. “We don’t have reservations and the food costs a billion dollars and you get enough for a fly on a diet.”
“It’s very sweet,” Virginia said. “It’s a tiny, five-star place, with a good wine cellar and foreign waiters with accents. Lenoire, who runs it, is an old friend of mine. You’d swear you were in Europe.”
“You’d swear you had your pocket picked,” Cleveland said.
“What about Bacon’s?” Lola said. “You’d love it there.”
“What’s Bacon’s?” Cleveland said.
“Bacon’s is down on Fourth. You’ve got live music,” Lola said. “Hickory-smoked ribs and Texas chili. They give you a bucket of dark beer for only two bucks. I have a friend who used to drive all the way from Pennsylvania just for one of their blue-cheese burgers.”
“Sounds quaint,” Virginia said.
“They have their own pizza oven,” Lola said.
“I think I’ve heard Howdy talk about this place,” Cleveland said. “You feel like an adventure, Gin?”
“Don’t I always?” Virginia said.
Maureen came into the kitchen and set down her empty glass. She didn’t speak to Cleveland. She smiled tightly at Virginia, and swung open the refrigerator door. She popped the ring tab on a can of beer and drank.
Virginia touched her pearls. “Perhaps we’re overdressed, though.”
“For Bacon’s?” Lola said. “Bacon’s gets all types.”
“Bacon’s!” Maureen said. “Who in the hell is going to Bacon’s?”
“We are,” Cleveland said. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“Oh, don’t listen to her,” Lola said.
Maureen said, “If I were to go up to Howdy’s place right now, and put on his oldest clothes, I’d still be overdressed for Bacon’s. It’s for kids. Virginia wants to eat in a restaurant, don’t you, Virginia?”
“I loved the place,” Lola said.
“Years ago. It’s a real dive.”
“Well, Howdy says it’s great,” Lola said.
Maureen said, “That’s because it’s the only place in the Midwest that will hire Howdy’s band.”
“I do like jazz,” Virginia said.
“Howdy doesn’t play jazz,” Maureen said.
“I’ve got the solution,” Cleveland said. “We’ll have Lola and Maureen rustle us up some food here, and then we’ll go to Bacon’s and drink dark beer.”
“They smoke at Bacon’s,” Maureen said.
“Smoke?” Virginia said.
“Marijuana,” Maureen said. “Everyone smokes marijuana at Bacon’s.”
“Oh, Virginia and I smoked marijuana over at Father Deluka’s house,” Mr. Cleveland said. “Nothing even happened. That’s all
in the head.”
“You smoked pot?” Maureen said to Virginia.
“Lola’s got some food here. We can all make something. Salad or something,” Cleveland said.
Lola looked up from her puzzle. “What? Listen, I’m retired for the day. I don’t have any food here except this little bit of stuff under foil.”
The front-door chimes sounded. Lola sighed and eased down from the counter.
“We’ll get it,” Maureen said, following Lola out of the kitchen.
“Sit still,” Cleveland said, going after them. “I’ll get it.”
They opened the door to a slender, snaggle-toothed girl wearing boy’s pants and rawhide work gloves. She was leaning on a shovel. “Howdy in there?” the girl asked.
“Howdy out there!” Cleveland said, and chuckled.
“I knew he’d say that,” Lola said.
“No, Howdy’s not home from school or wherever he is,” Cleveland said. “What can I do for you?”
“I came for my pay,” the girl said.
“Pay for what?” Lola said.
“I’ve been down in your ravine. I raked it and hauled off all the bottles and trash. I got the rest of the fence out. I dug up the posts and rolled the barbed wire and turned the earth over in the side garden back of the garage. And I put down the Vigoro. I did some weeding too, if you want to come look at it.” She sounded tired and a little angry.
“I don’t get it. I pay a man for my gardening,” Cleveland said. “All this heavy work you’re talking about, I pay a man for.”
“You pay my father,” the girl said. “He has the fever and chills today and couldn’t do his work, so I did it.”
“You’re Jack’s daughter?” Cleveland said.
“Stephanie,” the girl said, nodding. She took off a thick glove and stuck it over the top of the shovel. She lit a cigarette from a rumpled pack of Chesterfields. “Howdy said start in wherever Dad quit and do what I could, as much as possible.”
Cleveland said, “You wait there, sweetheart, for just a second.” He motioned for Lola to follow him back away from the door.
Maureen stayed with the gardener’s daughter and said, “I wish I could get my hair to curl like yours.”
When Maureen and the girl were out of earshot, Cleve-land whispered, “Her daddy’s a drinker. I bet he’s home with a snootful.”
“Well, it’s him you hired to do the yardwork, not his children,” Lola said. “She looks like she’s been working, though.”
“I know. It’s all right for today. Today it was just the heavy work. I’ll sign a check for you to fill out for whatever Howdy promised—within reason. But you tell her this is the only time. We don’t want to set any precedents. And you tell her that if her father’s sick, he should phone me.”
“And not Howdy, right?” Lola said.
“I’ll skin that Howdy when I catch up to him,” Cleveland said. “It’s all right for today. She couldn’t do any damage to the ravine. But I don’t want some amateur trying to trim hedges and grow azaleas. That’s tricky work and that’s what I pay her dad for.”
“She’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen,” Lola said.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Cleveland said. “But my left shoe is prettier.” He headed for the kitchen, calling Virginia.
The MG revved in the driveway as Lola went back to the door. Howdy was gliding up in neutral, tapping the accelerator. When he jumped from the car, Lola saw fresh paint drizzled all over his new jump suit.
“Your boss is home,” Lola said to the gardener’s daughter. The girl looked, cigarette smoke trailing from her nostrils.
“I’m glad you’re still here, Steph,” Howdy said. He put his arm around her neck. “You’re staying for supper.” He had smears of paint on the corners of his mouth from holding a brush in his teeth. “Did you meet Daddy? This is my sister Maureen, and this is Lola.”
“We met,” Lola said.
Howdy was still hugging the girl. He tried to kiss her face but she ducked away. “We went out on a field trip,” Howdy said. “We went out to the quarry to paint the rocks.”
“That’s what we need,” Lola said. “More painted rocks.”
“Hey, Maureen, this is Stephanie.” Howdy squeezed the girl again. “Did Daddy pay you yet?”
“We’re thinking about it,” Lola said.
“I love her hair,” Maureen said.
“I love her hair, too. You’re going to eat with us,” Howdy said. He put his nose over the girl’s ear. She twisted away.
“Eat what?” Lola said.
“I gotta go,” Stephanie said.
“The hell you do,” Howdy said. “Come on, Steph. Come inside. I want to show you around.”
Stephanie flicked her cigarette into the shrubs. “I just want to get paid so I can go,” she said.
Howdy put his head on her shoulder. He said, “Oh, Steph, no.”
12
The candle flames twitched in the night breeze that moved through the dining-room screens. The long cherry table had been set for four. Between the pewter candelabra was a cut-glass pitcher of whiskey sours with orange slices floating on top. Lola was ladling consommé into little tureens and passing them around.
Cleveland and Virginia sat at either end of the table. Howdy and Maureen were facing each other. Howdy was jabbering. He shook salt into his soup and then onto his salad. “So I saw this miserable-looking girl out in the terrible rain with the campus gardening crew. She and a bunch of campus maintenance guys were feeding branches from a tree into this huge shredder. You should have heard the noise. It was horrible.”
“Oh, shut up,” Lola said.
“I tell you I saw this petite waif in the rain feeding this fire-breathing dragon of a machine and I was really touched.”
“Touched in the head,” Cleveland said. He spooned some soup into his mouth. “Lola, this soup tastes too good to be good for me.”
“Yes, it is very rich and very good,” Virginia said. “Lola is such an angel.”
“So, naturally, I went up to this girl and started talking to her,” Howdy said.
Lola took a bottle of low-cal salad dressing from the pocket of her smock and smacked the bottle down on the table. “I forgot this,” she said.
“It turned out the girl was Stephanie and that her father works for us, so I asked her to a movie,” Howdy said.
Maureen’s glasses were cocked up on her forehead, pushing back her short bangs. Before her on the table were two empty cans of beer and a half-drained glass of whiskey.
“For Christ’s sake, Lola, sit down and eat,” Cleveland said. “Take a load off.”
“Who’d bring in the food?” Lola said.
Howdy poured himself a fresh drink from the pitcher. “Steph’s family lived in an apartment underneath a disturbed woman in Florida. This woman lived upstairs and was always trying to commit suicide.”
“The poor thing,” Virginia said.
Howdy said, “They knew, because the woman always talked about killing herself.”
“Great,” Lola said.
“Stephanie said it was really something,” Howdy said. He moved his salad around and plunged his fork into the lettuce.
“Why?” Virginia said.
“Lola, will you sit down?” Maureen said.
“I don’t get paid to sit down,” Lola said.
“Well,” Howdy said, munching, “so this woman disappeared for a week one time. She stopped roaming the halls and her morning papers and mail stacked up, but Stephanie’s family could hear her up there walking around.”
“Well, good,” said Virginia.
“No, wait’ll you hear,” Howdy said, wagging his fork. “So then Steph and her whole family hear the bathtub filling up upstairs. They all listened to it.”
“Throw me that salad dressing,” Cleveland said.
“Listen, Dad,” Howdy said. “So Steph’s family got worried, hearing the bathwater and all. So they called the landlord, who comes over with a key.”
“Really?” Virginia said.
“Yes,” Howdy said. “The landlord went into the place and the woman was dead. She’d killed herself. But when the coroner and the police came, they said she’d been dead at least five days.”
“Oh, how sad,” Virginia said.
“That means Stephanie’s a big liar,” Maureen said.
“No,” Howdy said, “the whole family heard the woman moving around.”
“The whole family was drunk,” Cleveland said. “I need the pepper.”
“Well, believe what you want, but that’s what happened. Steph doesn’t know how to lie, and as far as booze goes, she doesn’t touch it.” Howdy had some more of his whiskey. “I’m going to marry Stephanie.”
Maureen lit a cigarette and blew a smoke ring at the ceiling. Lola went into the kitchen.
The phones rang. “That’s Steph!” Howdy sprang up. “I told her to call me at eight thirty.” He took his drink with him and left the room.
Virginia and Maureen were quiet, their eyes on Cleveland, who was finishing his soup. He spanked the bottle of dressing, and decorated his salad. Lola brought in the chicken and sat down in Howdy’s chair. She watched Cleveland as he tossed his salad leaves with his fork.
“All right,” he said, and put down the fork. He poured from the pitcher into his glass and drank. “Don’t look at me.”
“He can’t marry her,” Lola said. “She doesn’t even like him.”
“This is just some Howdy idea,” Cleveland said. “It’ll go away like all the others. Goddamn his screwball mother! And you, Maureen.”
“Me! What?” Maureen said.
“Yes, you. For setting the example. For having a baby at fifteen. For living off your father.”
“Me?” Maureen said. “Howdy’s four years older than me.”
“Shall I powder my nose?” Virginia said.
Lola picked up a cherry tomato from Howdy’s salad. She said, “I forgot to eat today.”
“My hors d’oeuvres!” Maureen said, and jumped up. She went into the kitchen and used a dish towel to pull out a broiler pan covered over with little sausages wrapped in bacon and stuck with toothpicks. She carried them back to the dining table.
“You do real well,” Cleveland said. “You’re twenty-four, and without Lola you’d starve.”
