the minute she got Marcus to herself.
Well, I don't know for sure. My fantasy mom would hold me while I cried and tell me I was too good for all of them. Then she'd take me to Hawaii all expenses paid while I "healed."
There has to be someone in the middle. I know there is, and I go there. Billy's. I know they want to monitor Artie's salt, but a slice of pumpkin pie can do a lot for a man.
I go around to the kitchen door because she has the front locked for the holiday.
The kitchen is warm and smells great. I'm a little regretful cause those turkeys I smell are the ones we brined.
"How's it going?" I say.
She's standing at the stove, an industrial sized pan of onions and celery, chopped by Marcus, are browning there. "My favorite smell in the kitchen," she says.
"Yeah," I agree. Then I just think, go for it. "So you and Dad?"
"Me and dad what?" she smiles while she stirs. She's dressed up, purple shirt. Looks nice. Her hair is pulled into a bun.
She doesn't like loose-haired cooks or kitchen workers or waitresses. I should know. "Tie it up," she used to say to me when I worked here. Well, she only had to say it once. Smartest waitress she ever had. That's what she said about me.
"You and dad," I'm rolling my hand. I'm a little afraid of her answer. I mean…it's my dad.
"You find out about Benny and Coy?"
"What about them," I say while the room swims. Those are her two grown sons.
"They're Artie's," she says with this gleam, this smile.
She has me for a minute, then she's laughing.
They're a couple of perverts. Well, they were in high school. They're okay now but I had to put up with those two all the time I worked here. "Not funny," I say.
"You don't want a couple of brothers?" she cackles.
"Please," I say.
"Yeah, those two…early grave for me," she says moving to the giant stainless refrigerator. She takes out one of the pumpkin pies. "I had to make two babies with that bastard from upriver."
Yeah, it's a sad story. Teresa's an overcomer.
"Speaking of that," I say moving to the big work table where she's slicing pie for Artie, "that guy Myron White showed up from Chicago."
She looks at me as she lifts the slice into a plastic wedge. "Oh. He want you to come back?"
"I'm not going back. It was…well, Marcus was there."
We stare at each other a few seconds. "Okay."
"First off…you've heard of Operation Love Boat?"
"The television show?
"Okay, no, forget that. I mean…I came home pretty well knowing…I even left, for that matter, left for Chicago knowing I was in love with…Marcus Stover."
"Yeah," she urges me on. She's not running out screaming so I'm encouraged.
"You can't tell Dad."
She laughs a little. "I can't un-tell him either, but sure."
"What…what do you mean…un-tell."
"Can't take away what he's already figured out."
"Dad has figured what out…that I love Marcus?"
"That Marcus loves you."
I can't seem to grasp this, but I can. I do.
"Dad believes that Marcus loves me?"
"Yes," she says like she's talking to a lunatic.
"Why? I mean…on what grounds?"
She laughs, she shrugs, she puts a lid on the pie. "Your dad notices things," she says.
"He was always careful," I repeat this as I've heard Marcus say it several times.
"When you left…not so careful."
"How so?"
Teresa shrugs. "He wasn't so good. Artie could see it, that's all."
"Thing is…Marcus was there, early this morning when Myron showed up."
"Oh, fudge. Did he kick his ass or something?"
She used fudge and ass very closely there, but I make myself move on.
"Why would he?"
"Well, you love him, and he's there at the house. Then the other one comes, and your dad told me that you said that other guy fired you, and Artie was all wound up saying Marcus slapped the table or something he was so mad."
"Oh. Okay. Yeah. Dad told you that?"
"Sure. And about conflict of interest. He didn't like that. Oh, and doing you a favor to fire you."
Dad's mouth is even bigger than I thought, but he's been telling the town my
Well, I don't know for sure. My fantasy mom would hold me while I cried and tell me I was too good for all of them. Then she'd take me to Hawaii all expenses paid while I "healed."
There has to be someone in the middle. I know there is, and I go there. Billy's. I know they want to monitor Artie's salt, but a slice of pumpkin pie can do a lot for a man.
I go around to the kitchen door because she has the front locked for the holiday.
The kitchen is warm and smells great. I'm a little regretful cause those turkeys I smell are the ones we brined.
"How's it going?" I say.
She's standing at the stove, an industrial sized pan of onions and celery, chopped by Marcus, are browning there. "My favorite smell in the kitchen," she says.
"Yeah," I agree. Then I just think, go for it. "So you and Dad?"
"Me and dad what?" she smiles while she stirs. She's dressed up, purple shirt. Looks nice. Her hair is pulled into a bun.
She doesn't like loose-haired cooks or kitchen workers or waitresses. I should know. "Tie it up," she used to say to me when I worked here. Well, she only had to say it once. Smartest waitress she ever had. That's what she said about me.
"You and dad," I'm rolling my hand. I'm a little afraid of her answer. I mean…it's my dad.
"You find out about Benny and Coy?"
"What about them," I say while the room swims. Those are her two grown sons.
"They're Artie's," she says with this gleam, this smile.
She has me for a minute, then she's laughing.
They're a couple of perverts. Well, they were in high school. They're okay now but I had to put up with those two all the time I worked here. "Not funny," I say.
"You don't want a couple of brothers?" she cackles.
"Please," I say.
"Yeah, those two…early grave for me," she says moving to the giant stainless refrigerator. She takes out one of the pumpkin pies. "I had to make two babies with that bastard from upriver."
Yeah, it's a sad story. Teresa's an overcomer.
"Speaking of that," I say moving to the big work table where she's slicing pie for Artie, "that guy Myron White showed up from Chicago."
She looks at me as she lifts the slice into a plastic wedge. "Oh. He want you to come back?"
"I'm not going back. It was…well, Marcus was there."
We stare at each other a few seconds. "Okay."
"First off…you've heard of Operation Love Boat?"
"The television show?
"Okay, no, forget that. I mean…I came home pretty well knowing…I even left, for that matter, left for Chicago knowing I was in love with…Marcus Stover."
"Yeah," she urges me on. She's not running out screaming so I'm encouraged.
"You can't tell Dad."
She laughs a little. "I can't un-tell him either, but sure."
"What…what do you mean…un-tell."
"Can't take away what he's already figured out."
"Dad has figured what out…that I love Marcus?"
"That Marcus loves you."
I can't seem to grasp this, but I can. I do.
"Dad believes that Marcus loves me?"
"Yes," she says like she's talking to a lunatic.
"Why? I mean…on what grounds?"
She laughs, she shrugs, she puts a lid on the pie. "Your dad notices things," she says.
"He was always careful," I repeat this as I've heard Marcus say it several times.
"When you left…not so careful."
"How so?"
Teresa shrugs. "He wasn't so good. Artie could see it, that's all."
"Thing is…Marcus was there, early this morning when Myron showed up."
"Oh, fudge. Did he kick his ass or something?"
She used fudge and ass very closely there, but I make myself move on.
"Why would he?"
"Well, you love him, and he's there at the house. Then the other one comes, and your dad told me that you said that other guy fired you, and Artie was all wound up saying Marcus slapped the table or something he was so mad."
"Oh. Okay. Yeah. Dad told you that?"
"Sure. And about conflict of interest. He didn't like that. Oh, and doing you a favor to fire you."
Dad's mouth is even bigger than I thought, but he's been telling the town my
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