Bosom Bodies (Mina's Adventures) (5 page)

DeFiore
gathered the papers in front of him and got up. He turned to Mina, “Does Brian know about your moonlighting?” He gestured to the bar, the tables.

She felt herself blushing and sensed Diego was taking in every second of her frustration. She shrugged, didn’t answer.

“I take that as a no. Thanks for the info.”
DeFiore
turned to Diego. “We are okay, then?”

Diego nodded, and there was no hint of a smile or a wink. Something was going on. What? Diego didn’t look surprised her name was Mina or that she knew
DeFiore
. Was he already familiar with everything about her, and if so, how?
             

There was nothing for her to do here. Mina walked toward the front door, “Mina,”
DeFiore
called out, “better use the back door.” She nodded. To get to the back door Mina had to walk by the table where the policewoman sat.

The woman's question stopped Mina. “Do we know each other?” No trace of Angelina or any other employee by now.

Mina swallowed. It was obvious she
didn’t make the connection
. Mina pulled a corner of the red wig from her paper bag.

The woman laughed, the light, gurgling laugh of a child. “Oh, yes, you’re the waitress who nearly broke Dan’s foot. I’m Sam Perez, his partner.”

Sam, laughing with her like
an
old friend, no cop nonsense
.
Mina liked that a lot. “Mina Calvi.” They shook hands.

“I’ve never seen him so shocked and mad, but mostly shocked. I’m assuming he already asked you whatever he needed. We're done here, just waiting for Lisa to show some paperwork to Dan. We should have a drink some evening, trade stories about our boy.” Sam laughed again, that pure sound of innocent fun. Perfect teeth, lined up like ivory beads on a rosary.

“What are you two laughing about?” It was
DeFiore
.

“Nothing, really. I’m going home,” Mina said.

“Are you still driving your ragtop Bug?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I hear you're about to become a millionaire. Get yourself a new car, one you can lock. Stay safe and say hi to Brian for me when he calls.”

Mina nodded, walked away and let herself out through the back. All was dark and quiet in the employee’s parking lot, the steps lit by only one bulb. She noticed Diego’s Harley and Lisa’s junker.

“I’ll walk you to your car.” Diego stepped out from the shadowy corner.

Mina jolted back. “You scared me.”

“Better me than someone with bad intentions.”

Somehow that did not reassure her. She quickened her pace. What could happen?
DeFiore
was a few yards away.

They reached the front of the building. Only two vehicles remained,
DeFiore
’s sedan and Mina’s
convertible
. She searched her pocket for the ignition key without slowing her pace, and realized she was still holding the paper bag with the
Bosom Bodies
uniform
and the envelope with the money for Angelina still in her purse
.

“
Maledizione
,
”
she muttered before remembering Diego spoke Italian. Curiosity overcame her caution. “Where did you learn Italian?”

“In Italy.” He was right at her side. He smelled of mountain pine. His soap?

“Oh, like, you lived there? Were you in the Army or something?”

He didn’t answer right away. She turned her head to look at him. Even in the darkness of the hour she could tell his expression had changed. His smile held no joy and his eyes avoided hers. “Yeah, the Army or—something.”

Mina opened her car door and got in.

“Stay safe,” Diego said in a soft voice.

She left the parking lot of
Bosom Bodies,
hoping she never had to go back there again.

The streets of Balboa were alive with holiday anticipation—cars parked in the most unexpected places by people trying to get a good view of the boat parade. No more parade for Barbara, no more anything. How could a human being run over another human being and drive away without stopping to help? Maybe the person was drunk, maybe driving without a license? Nothing could excuse such an act of cowardice. The fires of hell would be too mild for such a person. Mina drove slowly, paying close attention. People walked randomly in front of cars. She sighed in relief once she crossed the bridge and reached Pacific Coast Highway. Almost home. It didn’t matter if the place was a mess and she didn’t have Christmas decorations, it was still home.

A cold hand touched her right shoulder and from the back of the car came a whisper, “Please, don’t turn around. Keep driving.”

Mina slammed on the brakes so hard the Volkswagen fishtailed, stopping inches from a parked car. She pulled the key from the ignition, ready to jump out of the car.

“Ginger, wait, it’s me.”

Ginger?

She recognized Angelina’s voice. When did she get into her car? Better yet,
why
did she get into her car?

“You scared me to death. You are so lucky I didn’t have a gun. Why didn’t you tell me you needed a ride?”

“Diego, I don’t trust him, didn’t want him to see me.”

“Diego, yeah, strange man. Let me straighten out the car before I get a ticket. Where do you need to go?”

“I was hoping, praying
I could spend the night at your house.” Pleading
and fear blended tightly in Angelina’s voice.

“My house?” Visions of her chaotic place filled Mina’s mind, but when she looke
d at Angelina’s distraught face
she relented. “I tell you what. Let’s get to the condo and we can talk. By the way, my name isn’t Ginger. It’s Mina. I’ll explain later.”

“Please, it’s better if no one knows I’m with you. Please.”

“Just sit back and scooch down when I go through the gate to the complex. No one will know you are in the car.”

They didn’t speak again until they were inside Mina’s home.

“Would you like something to eat? Drink?” Mina asked.

Angelina shook her head, avoiding Mina’s eyes. “This is your house?”

“I’m renting. Needed a place to live after my mother’s house was sold. Listen, Ginger is a friend. I took her place at Bosom Bodies so she wouldn’t lose her job. She’ll start working at
Bosom Bodies
tomorrow. Barbara knew about it.” The mention of Barbara chilled the mood. “Angelina, what’s happening with you? Why don’t you want to go home?”
She didn’t ask about the bruise under her eye, didn’t want to embarrass poor Angelina.

“It’s my—the man I’m living with, he is mean. If I get back home early, he will beat me because I don’t make enough money. I don’t want to go back there. If you let me spend the night here, in the morning I’ll catch a bus to Oceanside
.
I have family there. They can help me.”

“Angelina, where are you from?” Mina couldn’t pinpoint her accent.

“Guatemala, but my mother is from El Salvador.”

“Oh, I see.”
See what?
“I can only offer you a couch to sleep on. You can tell I’m not very organized here.”

“It’s good, it’s very good. You are a nice person, I knew right away.”

Mina didn’t have a clue
what to do or say. To ask questions would seem like
snooping. Not asking would
seem
like she didn’t care.

“How about some hot cocoa to warm us up?” she said.

Angelina appeared to be about th
e same age as Mina, and
not as young as first assumed. She was also taller than Mina, and her Eng
lish sounded better than
when she spoke from behind the glass divider at
Bosom Bodies
. “Let me see if I can find a
pillow and some blankets for you. It gets cold at night.”

“Can I go out on the terrace? Maybe I can see the boat parade.”

“Sure, but it’s a little late for the parade.”

Angelina was already out on the dark terrace. Mina went to set out some towels in the guest bathroom. She wasn’t prepared for an overnight guest. That was for sure. It was easier than she expected. All her linens and towels were in the same clearly marked box. She recognized Brian’s handwriting, of course.

By the time the kettle hissed, Angelina came back in. “Brrr, it’s cold, but so beautiful, stars in the sky, boats lit up like stars in the water. You are so lucky.”

Mina had to bite her lip to keep from pointing out the price of such luck. She would trade all the luck in the world to have Paola back, if only for one more day. So much she never had a chance to say to her.

Mina put the instant cocoa in the cups, filled with boiling water, stirred and then handed one of the white mugs to Angelina.

“Could I bo
rrow a sweater?” Angelina asked.
“You were right,
i
t’s cold.”

“Sure, let me get you one. Be right back.”

Mina came back with a zippered hoodie she knew was clean because it smelled of shampoo.

“Here Angelina, you may want to wear this in the morning when I take you to the bus. I hope you know where the bus stop is
.
I’m not familiar with this side of Orange County yet. I used to live in Missi
on Viejo.” While they sipped
their hot cocoa, it occurred to Mina they had nothing in common but the accent.

“I like the name Mission Viejo,” Angelina said, “so romantic.”

“Yeah, but it should be Mission
Vieja
.”

“Mission
Vieja
? Why?”

“You know, mission is feminine,
viejo
is masculine, so the correct adjective for mission should be
vieja
.”
How can she not know the difference? She is from Guatemala.
They speak Spanish.

“Oh,
sí
. Sorry, wasn’t thinking.”

Something wasn’t right. Mina felt awkward in her own home. She wished she'd had the courage to say no to Angelina. When would she ever learn? Bleeding heart, that’s what Paco called her the other day when
she insisted on giving money
to a beggar. She picked up the empty mugs just to be doing something.

“Let me do that for you.” Angelina stood up.

“Not tonight, it’s your night off,” Mina joked. She rinsed the mugs and put them in the dishwasher. Her stomach made gurgling noises. Maybe she drank too fast. She yawned.

“I usually watch the news and Jay Leno, but between the office and finding out about poor Barbara, I’m exhausted. I think I’ll go to sleep. You are welcome to watch TV or whatever you want to do. So, what time should we leave to get you to the bus?”

“Tomorrow is Tuesday. If I could get there by eight a.m. I’ll be okay.”

“How much money do you need for the bus? I’m not sure I have cash on me.” The envelope with Angelina’s name and the
hundred-dollar
bill was still in her pocketbook. Somehow Mina didn’t feel like mentioning it.

“I have money for the bus fare, thank you.”

Mina yawned again, her head felt heavy. “The bathroom is at the end of the hall. Good night then, see you in the morning.” She headed to her bedroom.

Something woke her. Almost. She wanted to open her eyes but her eyelids wouldn’t budge—so heavy, stuck together. Mina moved her fingers, to lift the eyelids. Where were her fingers? She couldn’t feel her fingers. She had fingers; that she remembered.

She didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to be awake, to understand why her brain and her body no longer functioned. Too tired. She was too tired to think, but she didn’t want t
o sleep. She forced her eyes
open. Was it day or night? White above her head. The ceiling? She could see a ceiling
. T
hen a shadow darkened the whiteness above her eyes. Was it a
frightening
dream like
those from her
child
hood
back in Italy
?
Every corner had a shadow
. E
very shadow hid a monster, the kind of monster that made you bury your head under the covers.
She tried to pull the covers over her eyes, but again, couldn’t find her fingers.

Too tired to fight. Too tired to think. She let her eyelids drop.

Now her eyes were open. Noise came from somewhere in the living room. She heard a do
or open, then close. I
t was her front door. Who was it? She moved her mouth, but no sound came. She tried to get out of bed, felt her bare feet touch the floor. Another sound, the muffled roaring of a motorcycle?
Crazy. She was going crazy. Her head spinning, Mina fell back on the bed. All was quiet again, quiet and dark
, h
er heartbeat the only living sound.