Nothing To Lose (A fat girl novel) (26 page)

Her co-workers were not immediately happy for Selma. They felt that she had snuck behind their backs although they knew that wasn’t true. “This place was always just a steppingstone,” she told them. “I was always looking. What was I supposed to do, announce it?”

“When were you looking? How could you look?” asked April.

“On my lunch hour?”

“You went al the way back to the city on your lunch hour?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes I took a sick day. It’s my career. You’ve got to hustle. You know what an extra fifteen thousand means to my standard of living?”

They were mad at themselves for not having thought of it first. If Selma could get an agency job so could they. If Selma could make fifteen thousand dollars more a year, they could make that and more. April felt especially chagrinned. She had never even considered another job. Burdie’s was her whole world. She hadn’t even considered that she could survive anywhere else. Well, that was one more thing to keep before her. She had a fat portfolio to show and a slim body, just the opposite of how she had begun. That week she worked on her resume and had a hundred copies reproduced.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Are you an American?” Luis looked down at the upturned face of Nell Burdette, aged five. He liked children. He especially liked plump, bald babies who stared silently. But he could find nothing appealing in Fred Burdette’s children. He suspected Nell was a disturbed, highly sexual child. She squirmed on his lap and put her arms around his neck seductively.

Jonathan, the boy, asked loud embarrassing questions: Is our father your boss? Do you have to do what he says? How old are you? The Burdettes looked very much alike – sandy-haired, pale, slightly freckled.

“We don’t bring any help to Point O’ Woods,” Faith Burdette bragged. “I do everything myself.” She did. There were corn flakes and Rice Krispies for breakfast, bologna and cheese sandwiches for lunch and, at night, hot dogs for the kids and a bony steak for the grown-ups. The drinks were plentiful and exotic: piña coladas made with Coco Goya mix and rum.

Fred and Faith’s pride in their self-sufficiency was liquor fed. They were devoted to drinking and slept quite a bit. They were sleeping now, at ten o’clock on a sunny Saturday morning, while he sat in their damp slipcovered living room with the two children.

He had spent one other weekend with them but Lisanne had been with him and it hadn’t been so dismal. This time, alone, he had expected to talk seriously with Fred about the Burdette chain, its financial health, new projects, all-important issues they had in common. But Fred was bored with retailing and even more bored by money talk. He liked to reminisce about Princeton and was cranky because there was no fourth for bridge.

“Are you allowed to be here by yourselves?” he asked the children.

“You mean without mummy and daddy or anyone?” asked Jonathan.

“No. I mean with mummy and daddy sleeping,” answered Luis.

“But you’re here,” he said puzzled.

“Yes, but I’ve got to go out.” He was desperate to walk down the narrow paths and through the gate that separated Point O’ Woods – somber and conservative – from Ocean Bay Park – gaudy and liberal – to Alan Leeds’ rented house. That was a better place for him to be, with people who had to work for a living. It was only a twenty-minute walk away, if he could just get out gracefully.

“Where do you have to go?”

“Out. Just out.” He sounded too annoyed and gave Jonathan a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Oh,” said the boy knowingly. “Feeling like you have claustrophobia?”

“Exactly,” said Luis and made his escape.

He walked quickly toward the gate. Would Fred come to pull him back? He tried to sort out his reasons for being there. Fred was his college roommate but while Fred lived in California, they had spent five years without laying eyes on each other. Fred was the chairman’s son but Fred couldn’t do anything for him that he couldn’t do for himself. Fred loved him. Fred also had a sentimental view of their closeness. For instance, he would never tell Fred anything really sad or problematic. He was closer to Leeds or Merlow or Ned Perkins, men he had known barely nine months. They were self-made, except for Perkins who was rich as hell but smart and ambitious anyway.

Leeds was sitting on the deck drinking coffee when he arrived and was surprised to see him. “I thought you were at the Burdettes?”

“I am,” he said sullenly.

“Why are you slumming?”

“No wisecracks, please.” He leaned against the deck rail and took a deep breath of ocean air.

“Sorry. Want a drink?”

“At ten-thirty in the morning? That’s just what I’m running away from – a lot of soused Episcopalians.

“Oh…want to go to the beach and meet some women?”

“What do you mean some women? Ten women? Twenty women? Why do you need so many?”

“Okay. Forget the women.”

“I just want to sit down and read the paper in the sun. Do you have a paper?”

Leeds went inside and brought out the New York Times. Luis chose a comfortable chair and stretched out. He liked the fact that Leeds was hopping around trying to please him.

Merlow Hess, yawning and stretching, joined them. “Do you have to go back? We can play tennis. Tobias isn’t out this weekend and you can have his bed.”

“I don’t want to go back,” said Luis stubbornly.

“Well, you certainly don’t have to stay there if you don’t want to,” said Merlow, like a righteous parent. “Tell them a filling fell out.”

“How many times have you used that one?”

“Here,” Merlow picked up several pebbles out of a planter, “this is even better. When you’re having lunch, jump up from the table, dig around in your mouth and pull out this little white pebble. Tell them it’s a tooth.” He put his hand to his cheek and looked horrified. “Say, ‘My god. I’ve broken a tooth.’”

“What makes you think they won’t offer to help me?”

“The success of this plan depends on speed. Don’t wait for suggestions or offers of help. Just leave. Vamoose. Don’t wait for the ferry. Mumble something about grabbing a water taxi to Bay Shore. In fact, have your bags packed before the tooth breaks.”

“ And when I’m out on the sand with my suitcase?”

“Come here,” said Merlow. “Come right here where your friends will be waiting for you.”

“And the Burdettes come strolling along the beach to find me?”

“They won’t. They wouldn’t be caught dead on this side of the beach.”

“I’ll give it a try.” He was going to do it for the fun of it as much as anything else. He accepted a glass of orange juice for ‘Courage and high blood sugar,’ said Merlow, and headed back to Point O’ Woods. He did exactly as instructed, packed his small bag, put the pebbles in his pocket and waited for lunch. A little after one, Faith Burdette placed five naked carrots on a plate, a prelude to the sandwiches. He bit into one, munched zealously, bit again and them jumped up, spitting out the contents of his mouth. There it was. Amid the brilliant orange of chewed carrot, there nestled a tiny, authentic-looking tooth. They all searched his hand and saw it.

“Who’s out here that can help?” Fred asked his wife.

“Oh, no,” Luis protested. “I’ll get a water taxi and head back.” He thanked Faith, kissed her cheek and was gone.

Leeds and Hess congratulated him and thumped his back but midway in the afternoon, Merlow came up behind him on the beach and in his best Burdette lockjaw muttered: “You think we fell for the broken tooth routine?” Luis jumped and both men doubled over with laughter.

There’s a house three blocks down with two of our girls,” said Leeds when they were returning to the house. “Dinner awaits. I don’t think they’d mind a third.”

“Why don’t we eat out? I don’t want to go to anybody’s house for dinner.”

“It won’t be bad. It’s Susan Scott’s house. If you’re uncomfortable, we can eat and run.”

“This time, you break the tooth.”

When they reached the house, he was surprised to see April. “I wouldn’t have thought that you’d be here,” he said.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be here,” she replied with the same inflection. “But why wouldn’t I be here? Not the type?”

“The other day, you were so specifically tuned in to the problems of the downtrodden housewife, I’m surprised to find you’re single and…in such a carefree setting.”

“You don’t have to be a housewife to feel downtrodden,” she said defensively.

“Oh…? Anything specific?”

“No.” She sounded miffed.

“Well, we can breathe a sigh of relief.” She looked surprised and he was sorry it had started so badly. He thought the dress she was wearing was hideous. It was long, dark and flowery – the season’s god –awful Western look. “Is that dress from our store?”

“Yes. It’s a knock-off of Ralph Lauren’s prairie dress.” She smoothed the skirt with pride. “The women wore them on the wagons going west, I suppose.”

“I see.” That she had been won over by her own clever copy made her seem touchingly vulnerable.

“Why are you out here? Aren’t you too smart and serious?”

“Of course. But I’m not a regular. I’m a guest, an uninvited guest at that.” He grinned. “I won’t eat too much.”

“Eat as much as you like. It’s chicken. I wanted to make a nice lemon sauce, but Susan insisted on barbecuing. I hate barbecued chicken so don’t worry. There’ll be plenty left over.”

“You should have taken the chicken away from Susan,” he advised and then had the ridiculous notion of marching into the kitchen and getting the chicken for her to do with as she pleased.

“Susan wanted to barbecue more than I wanted to make my lemon sauce. She said the men would help with the cooking. Are you going to help with the cooking?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Leeds came toward them with a glass of wine, handed it to Luis and propelled him out to the deck. It was a very pleasant deck, wide planked and practically on the sand. The sea gulls came close by to grab bits of bread Merlow was tossing out. Luis greeted Susan who was turning half gray coal briquettes with a pair of tongs. She was dressed in a skimpy ruffled halter-top with white shorts. When she bent over, he could see her breasts, although today they didn’t interest him. He felt old. He sat with his arms across the railing, staring at the bay. The sunset was spectacular, but he felt restless. He thought of Lisanne, who was returning from Texas the following evening. He had promised to meet her plane, which meant he’d have to take an early ferry out.

April came out and began to shred lettuce into a large wooden bowl. Merlow was scattering Triscuits on the railing to entice some nearby birds. “Anybody dying to tend this fire?” asked Susan. Luis caught April’s eye across the deck and winked. She smiled and popped a cucumber round into her mouth.

“Am I complicating things?” he whispered to Merlow. “Were you guys going to pair off?”

“Not me, buddy. I hardly know the ladies. I’m just along for the ride. It’s Leeds that has the hots for Susan.”

“I see.” He tried to think where he’d rather be and what he’d rather be doing. He was happy to be away from Point O’ Woods and dinner with Leeds and Merlow would have degenerated into sloppy shoptalk. Back in New York, he’d be alone; not exactly what he wanted either. Maybe this was the best place after all. He took a gulp of his wine and relaxed. April took a gulp of her wine, finishing what was in her glass and choking a little on the last swallow. She saw him watching and pushed the glass away.

Susan placed the chicken on the grill, retreating after each piece as if the heat was singing her eyelashes. “Here, I’ll finish that,” said Leeds.

The chicken wasn’t on the fire two minutes when a man dressed in pale gray fatigues and an infantryman’s cap walked onto the deck, picked up the barbecue stand by two of its three legs, carried it the few steps to the water and dumped everything – chicken, charcoal and grill – into a lapping wave. “There’s an ordinance against barbecue fires,” he shouted. “Next time, I’ll fine you fifty dollars.”

The five of them remained rooted to their spots.

“Are we going to let that guy get away with that?” Leeds recovered first.

“I guess not,” said Merlow, dusting his hands from the Triscuit crumbs.

I’ll go.” Luis continued to sit there, undecided as to his role. He’d offer to take them out to eat when everyone calmed down. Susan burst into tears and ran inside. He looked over the edge of the deck and saw that the chicken had remained stuck to the grill and looked miraculously unscathed except for the water lapping up underneath.

Merlow returned. “He really is the fire warden,” he said. “And there really is a serious ordinance against charcoal fires.” He wiped his upper lip that was full of perspiration. “Here, I’ll have some of that.” He held out a glass to Leeds who had a jug of wine.

April went down to the water’s edge and placed all of the chicken in a colander. When she came back to the house, Luis followed her into the kitchen. “I’ll remember never to cross you,” he said.

“What do you think? Can we wash it off?” The chicken looked pretty normal “According to Sixty Minutes there are much worse things that happen to our food everyday: mice droppings in the baby food, human fingers chopped into our hot dogs. A little sand and seaweed are wholesome by comparison.” She held up a leg and thigh that had been rinsed under the faucet. “See, good as new.” She dried the pieces with a paper towel, rubbed them with oil and squeezed lemon juice over them. Then she placed them under the broiler and began a pot of rice.