Gorilla Beach (35 page)

He'd been cursed with a pathologically unfaithful father and a long-suffering martyr for a mother. But he'd been blessed with a face and body that women could not resist—especially older women. Just as his dad attracted North Jersey floozies, Arthur was catnip to Shore cougars.

“Forty bucks,” said the cabdriver, pulling to a stop outside Our Lady of the Perpetual Sorrow, a church on Grant Avenue in Seaside. Arthur paid the fare.

“No tip?”

“Always floss before bed.”

“Asswipe!” screamed the driver before speeding away.

Arthur looked up at the classic brick church with the double arched doors and the cross on top. This was the right place. In his
head, though, he hadn't pictured a building quite so holy. He'd imagined a club that was a converted church, or a modern building. Having sex in a real, classic church rubbed hard against his Catholic upbringing. Arthur started to walk away.

His cell rang. “Hello?”

“Where are you? We're all waiting,” said Donna.

“I'm outside.”

“Come in, walk down the stairs to the left, to the basement. It'll be worth your while.” Then she hung up.

Arthur exhaled. Oh, why
not
? Truth be told, he'd only been to church a few times as a kid. His dad parked him in the pew and then sneaked into the rectory to bang the church secretary. If Donna Lupo and her friends got off on nun play, who was he to judge?

He followed her directions and found the basement. He walked deeper into the dark space, toward the sound of voices. A light shone from under a partially closed door. Slowly, he crept toward it, then pushed it open.

“There you are!” said Donna. “Come in, Arthur. I saved you a seat.”

Something was wrong. The other women weren't hyperstyled rich-housewife types like Donna. Some appeared to be homeless women. Others looked like working-wage slaves, or blue-collar wives. Still others were lace-and-silk-shrouded silver-haired grannies. And the room didn't have a satin-sheeted altar at the center of a circle. It had long rows of tables and plastic chairs and, at the front, a dais and a card table with a round cage full of Ping-Pong balls.

“I'm not … I thought …”

“Right there, sweetbuns,” said Donna, leading him to a chair at one of the long tables. “Here's your card and a pile of chips. Good luck! Oh, before I forget, you have to put twenty dollars in the basket. That's right. Take out your wallet and drop some cash right in here. That's a smart boy!”

Dazed, Arthur took out his wallet and put a bill in the basket. He noticed that it was stuffed with cash. That perked him up. Whatever was really going on here, Arthur planned to leave with the contents of that basket.

A priest swept into the room, his black cape and purple scarf fluttering behind him. He had a thick mustache, sideburns, and wore a black fedora. A heavy gold cross hung from his clerical collar. “Hallo, a-friends. I a-see some a-new faces tonight.
Bene!
”

The priest bowed to a withered fossil in the front row, with a black doily pinned in her hair. “
Buona sera,
Mama.”

“
Buona sera,
Padre Guido,” said the ancient crone.

Arthur looked around, still totally confused. The priest started blabbing about an upcoming church potluck and a gently-used-clothing drive for the homeless shelter. His voice whistled between Arthur's ears. Did this mean no fucking? He looked at the card Donna had given him.

A bingo ballot?

“They say
bingo,
but I say
bimbo,
” whispered a girl who slipped into the empty seat to his left.

Gia!

“She says
bimbo,
I say, ‘I'm gonna beat your ass until you don't have one.'” Bella, the amazon with the boobies, took the chair to his right.

Gia whispered, “Relax,
Arthur
. We're not gonna kill you.”

“Yet,” said Bella.

“We just want our money back.”

“Attenzione!”
called Father Guido. “I'm a-gonna call-a the first a-number. Make a-bingo, and you win the basket. Oh-keh? Here-a we go.”

The priest cranked the cage handle and called a number. Incredibly, Arthur hit it. Despite the surrealism of the situation, he had a shot at winning the prize basket.

“You were conning me from day one,” whispered Gia in his
ear. “For the record, my feelings for you were real. I thought I got lucky the day I met you.”

Her hot breath so near to the sensitive skin of his ear … well, he hoped he wouldn't have to stand up anytime soon. “It was business, Gia. Not personal.”

“Making out in the moonlight, saying you had eyes only for me, was business?”

“Yup.” It was half-true. He was always planning on cleaning her out, but he cared for her, too.

Donna, who sat in front of him, turned around. “Shhhh,” she hissed, then winked at Gia and Bella.

Obviously, he'd been set up. Donna got him here so Gia and Bella could get their revenge. But it wouldn't be sweet. He said, “The way I see it, I broke even with you.”

Father Guido called out more numbers. Incredibly, Arthur's card was on fire. He had
B, G,
and
O
covered. Only two more lucky calls and he'd win the basket and get the hell out of there.

“You stole sixty thousand dollars from our safe!” said Bella. “You'd have to give us your kidney to call it even.”

“Sixty grand? Try three. Barely.” To Gia, he added, “I spent more than that on dinners and drinks for you and your friends. I had to soften you to the consistency of pulp.”

“Soften? Are you saying I'm fat?”

“It's a grifter term. Doesn't matter. I could've spent twice as much, and you still wouldn't trust me.”

Gia shook her head. “I did trust you.”

“Is that why you tested me with that pepper?'

“It was just for fun. I never got to apologize about that. I am sorry I made you wet yourself.”

Bella said, “Fredo counted the money the morning of the robbery. He swears it was sixty thousand dollars.”

“And I swear there wasn't more than three.”

Bella said, “Gia? Whaddaya think?”

“You know I'm bad at math.” Gia frowned.

A few more bingo numbers were called out.

“The gap between three and sixty thousand is wide enough to drive a truck through,” said Bella.

“That's between you two and Fredo,” said Arthur. “I'm done with all of you.” Standing, he shouted, “Bimbo! I mean,
bingo
!”

Father Guido slapped his hand on his cheek.
“Mamma mia.”

Arthur brought his card to the front of the room. Father Guido confirmed Arthur's winning numbers. Arthur grabbed the cash.

“Oh-a no! Not again!” said the priest, who grabbed Arthur by his lapels. “You're not-a stealing this-a money!”

What? No! He
won
the cash, fair and square.

“Stop him!” yelled a few grannies, who got out of their seats and rushed toward the front of the room.

“Get offa me!” Arthur shrugged off his jacket to get free of the priest. But then a horde of bingo grannies, bag ladies, and housewives surrounded him, and they looked mad. They grabbed at his clothes. He struggled, but there were too many of them. Before long, they'd torn off his suit and were going for his boxers.

If he were watching this scene from above, he'd think,
Man, this is kinky.

In all the commotion, he heard an old lady yelling, “Captain Morgan? This is Mama Lupo. I'm at Our Lady. A young man is trying to rob the church!”

The cops were coming? Now Arthur had to get serious. He elbowed a few old ladies out of the way and knocked the priest off his feet (now he was going to hell for sure). He made a rush for the door, only to be clotheslined by Donna, the woman who'd lured him here. His head hit the floor when he fell. His vision was cloudy. Donna's face appeared above him, shimmering around the edges.

“That's for Fredo,” she said.

Gia's face appeared. She said to Donna, “You never told me how Frankie was as an actor.”

Donna said, “He was horrible! Only a moron would have believed him for a second! Frankie should stick to putting out fires.”

Arthur's head started to clear. He thought he understood what was going on here, but he was still a bit fuzzy.

A cop with a mustache burst into the room, almost as if he'd been waiting just outside the door. He dragged Arthur to his feet. “Fair warning: I hurt my shoulder playing skeeball with my kids at the arcade, so I'm using my gun tonight instead of the nightstick.”

Arthur Sanders, aka Ponzirelli, aka Buongiorno, whimpered, “This can't be happening.”

“Whatever you say, chief,” said the cop. “Can I get the man's clothes?”

Four dozen bingo players ignored the question.

“Fine, I'll book him and fingerprint him at the station in his boxers. It won't be the first time.”

Gia stopped the cop at the door. “One second,” she said, then gave Arthur a sloppy, saucy kiss. “Good-bye, Ponzi. That's the last kiss you're gonna get for a while. From a girl.”

“To the mother of
my child!” said Stanley, holding up his beer.

“To Maria!” toasted Gia, Tanner, Bella, Will, Fredo, and Erin.

Kookah and Pretzel yipped.

The eight of them (not counting dogs) were having dinner and drinks at EJ's on the boardwalk to celebrate the triumphant opening week at Venus and Maria's pregnancy. The dinner was also a farewell. Bella and Gia were heading back to Brooklyn in the morning.

“Please stay,” said Erin. “The club is rocking. You'll have money, an apartment, and a job. You've got friends.” The redhead's freckled brow crinkled with sincerity. She really didn't want them to go. Gia leaned across the table to give her a kiss on the cheek. Mmm, tasted like gingersnap.

“What apartment? Not the bungalow. You're all evicted,” said Stanley. “We're expecting a baby! We need room.”

“Just how fat do you think Maria's gonna get?” asked Bella.

He was right, though. The Crumbis needed space. Maria's pregnancy hormones were overflowing like beer from a broken tap. When she wasn't vomiting or quaffing pickle-and-strawberry smoothies, she and Stanley were smushing. Loud, and hawd,
from what Gia could hear, even with two pillows pressed to her ears.

Bella said, “We'd love to stay, but we have to be back home. I've got to see my mom and hear from her own lips that she's taken my dad back. And then I'm starting my sophomore year at NYU.”

Fredo asked, “What's your excuse, Gia?”

“I go where Bella goes. We're a twofer.”

Tanner understood. At least, he said he did. They'd had a fun few days, but their connection was just too young to change her life for. Then again, sometimes a casual fling turned into a major relationship. Stranger things have happened. Gia would keep an open mind about Tanner. For now, she was glad she had a boy to bring to their quadruple date.

“You'll come back, though, right?” asked Maria. “You can't make me go through this pregnancy alone.”

“Whaddaya mean ‘alone'? I'm sitting right here,” said Stanley.

Maria said, “You're useless! Where's the corn dog with sauerkraut I asked for last night?”

“It was four in the freakin' morning!”

While Maria and Stanley argued, Gia smiled to herself, thinking about her good-bye with Joe after the club opening. They made a plan to talk every Sunday at noon and that she'd go to Philly the last weekend of every month. Gia was determined to hold up her end of the bargain.

“What about you guys?” asked Fredo, gesturing between Gia and Tanner.

Tanner said, “We're playing it by ear.”

“And you two?” Fredo asked Bella and Will.

Will said, “The plan is to make some money—”

“That's always the plan,” said Stanley.

“—and enroll at Parsons art school in Manhattan for the winter term. Bella invited me to live at her house in Brooklyn, so that'll save me a bundle.”

“Not a freebie, though. We're putting him to work,” said Bella.

“They haven't painted the interior in twenty years,” said Will. “So I'm going to give it the royal treatment.”

Gia said, “You do realize the brownstone has five stories.”

Will gulped his beer and nearly choked on it.
“Five?”

“Didn't I mention that?” asked Bella, grinning. “You'll be stuck there for at least a year with me and my whole family. We're always in each other's business, yelling, screaming.”

Will cringed. “You make it sound so peaceful and relaxing.”

“You'll love it.” Gia raised her vodka cranberry. “To our Seaside family!”

They all clinked glasses and drank.

“One thing still bugs me,” said Fredo. “Arthur Ponzirelli still got away with all that money.”

Gia rolled her eyes. “You got your Caddie back,
and
a hot new club,
and
a hot new fiancée. You're still bitching about money?”

Stanley said, “I'd be bitching, too, Fredo.”

Draining her glass, Gia said, “I have an announcement to make.”

“This should be good,” said Maria.

“Okay, remember how we divided our AC winnings equally? Well, I sort of took out an advance. Before Ponzi stole it.”

“How much?” asked Fredo.

Gia counted on her fingers. “All of it? Minus three grand.”

“So Ponzi told the truth,” said Bella.

“So did you,” said Gia.

“Me? What're you talking about?”

“Come outside, and I'll show you.”

Gia pushed back her chair, told the waiter they'd all be right back, and led the group out the street-side exit of the restaurant.