Winter In August (7 page)

“She was on her way home on the New Jersey Turnpike one night during a blizzard. She didn’t see a pile up on the highway and slammed into the car in front of her. A semi slammed into Claire’s car and crushed her. I went to the funeral. It was heartbreaking.”

“That’s really sad.”

“She was the sweetest customer I’ve had. Colt used to come in here too before she passed away.”

Neither of us said anything for a minute. I was lost in thoughts of how bad her death must have been for Colt. How did he have the strength to get through something like that?
“Wait a minute. He’s the one who sent you the flowers.” Sven turned to me smiling.

I didn’t answer.

Sven’s voice went up a few octaves. “You little vixen. Did you sleep with him?” He stopped folding and walked closer to me.

“No, I did not, thank you. I did kiss him, though.”

“Christ, I would have. He’s hot. You must be one hell of a kisser to get flowers.”

I shrugged. “He wants me to go out with him, but he’s not my type.”

“You’re making a big mistake. He’s rich, gorgeous, and nice as hell. He owns a private jet company, and it’s one of the biggest around.”

“I don’t do nice and rich. Gorgeous is okay, but he isn’t my type of gorgeous.” I found myself trying to convince myself of this frequently.

Sven shrugged and turned away from me. “Suit yourself sweetie, but you’ll change your mind.”

“Want to bet?”

I took the opportunity to remind Sven I would be off for a week. Before talking to my father I planned on spending the week doing absolutely nothing. I had some books to read, spend some time in the city, and planned on cleaning the house.

With much distress about going home, something told me I needed to make a visit and check on my dad. Plus, that weekend was the anniversary of Kris’s death and I wanted to try with all my heart to go visit his grave. I would be there for a couple of days, and if I didn’t want to stay I could get in my car and come back home anytime. A road trip would be good for me. With Harper gone, I needed to be around someone I loved and my dad was the one.

I was reluctant to leave my little oasis and get in the car and drive for eight hours. The Honda Civic was something Kris helped me pick out when I was a senior in high school. I looked over to the passenger seat and remembered him sitting there while I drove around town. The backseat I threw my suitcase in, reminded me of the many times we screwed on an old dirt road out in the middle of nowhere. Part of the reason I didn’t drive the car much was because it was a constant reminder, even now, of Kris. Hoping the shit box of a car would last there and back, I filled my gas tank and headed out Saturday morning. With my girl Janis blasting in my stereo, I maneuvered through the New York traffic like a pro.

The drive went quicker than anticipated, though I tried to take my time. I stopped as much as possible and enjoyed the scenery.

The familiar surroundings, came back to me when I hit Route 84 and noticed everything from my past life. The roller rink was opened for business, and the parking lot full of cars. The local restaurant was busy for Saturday afternoon. Sonny’s Tire was going strong with Sonny Smith standing outside working on a car. The old dirt road we used to park on, now led to a busy subdivision. The worst place I drove past, and one I tried to pass quickly, was the cemetery. That’s where Kris was, and where I hadn’t stopped since the day of the funeral. Driving by the gate of the cemetery opened up a whole set of emotions even after five years. Attempting to turn my head the other way, I caught a glimpse of the iron gate. The last thing my tear filled eyes locked on while pulling away after the funeral. I swore I would never lay eyes on the cemetery again.

My house was a few miles from town on an old road paved ten years ago. I rolled down my windows and enjoyed the familiar scent of the lilacs growing everywhere. The only neighbor around was Old Jack Spencer. He had to be ninety now and still out working in his garden. He waved at me, though I knew he waved to anyone passing by. Pulling into the driveway of my house, I noticed my dad sitting on the old porch, his favorite spot in the summer. His usual cheap vodka and newspaper were now replaced with a lemonade and an iPhone. He stood and limped to the car, a permanent condition after his car accident.

“Mooch, I’m so glad you’re here.” Kissing me on both cheeks and pulling me close to him I was eased immediately. Oddly enough, I felt a sense of relief in a strange way to be there with him and wondered why I stayed away for so long. He had come to see me six months ago, but he looked different, a little tired. I couldn’t put my finger on what was making him seem different.

My dad, Giuseppe Barone was born in Campobasso Italy and raised in Little Italy in Cleveland. A short man with a big nose and an even bigger heart, he would do anything for anyone. At fifty-six, he was still handsome with a full head of curly black hair. People often commented he looked similar to a young Tony Bennett, though he didn’t see the resemblance. Always wearing a pinky ring, and Elvis looking sunglasses, he was a very proud member of the Sons of Italy and the Knights of Columbus. Many women had swooned over him over the years, but he never cared. He never gave up hope that one day, the one woman he truly loved, would come back up the driveway and back into his life. I wondered how he went with no sex for so long. There had to be someone he banged sometime. I didn’t ask because his sex life was none of my business. I’m sure he must have, but I was happier not having him suggest it.

“Dad. It’s so good to see you.” I said as I buried my head in his neck. He smelled of Old Spice and garlic and I felt like I was finally home.

He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me away to get a better look at me. “Are you hungry? You’re a little scrawny.”

“Scrawny? I’m not, but yes, I’m starved. That’s a long drive.” I smelled the sauce cooking inside the small house I had once called home.

Walking inside I noticed everything was the same as when I was last there. My dad’s rocking chair stayed in front of the television. The couch was the same and looked as if no one ever sat on it. My mom’s blue striped oversized chair still sat in the corner, now bleached from the sun shining in the window. The only thing that changed was he replaced his big cabinet television with a new flat screen as big as the wall.

I went to the kitchen to see what he put in the sauce. Just as I thought, he made my favorite meatballs. I grabbed the end of the loaf of hard Italian bread. I slathered the piece in butter and sauce and shoved it in my mouth. Sauce and bread were almost better than sex. Well, not quite.

My dad walked to the refrigerator opening the stainless steel door, he showed me all the things he bought. “Look at this. I bought your favorites, Mooch.”

“Dad, I’m trying to stay this thin. You’re going to get me fat,” I laughed, looking inside to see the many things I used to devour as a little girl. I noticed a pepperoni stick, provolone cheese, and Snickers bars. All the wonderful things I tried to stay away from, were waiting for me once again.

I walked to the stove, ripped off another piece of bread, and scarfed it down in one bite. Sauce dripped down my lip, and I wiped it with my finger. “Dad, this is so good. I haven’t had bread in a year. I make my sauce exactly like you showed me, and it never tastes this good.”

“What kind of crazy shit is that? A person could die without bread. You better eat fast before you pass out. I told you the secret to a good sauce is the olive oil.” my dad laughed turning his attention to the noodles boiling on the stove.

“Take your bag to your room, Mooch and come and eat. The noodles are about done.” To Giuseppe, food cured everything. If you were sad, eat, tired, eat. Whatever was wrong in my family, food was the cure. Needless to say, by the time I was twelve I was a very plus size girl. Sure he would be drunk most days, but he could make the sauce and buy the desserts at the local bakery and that’s what I lived on.

“You didn’t remodel my room or move a broad in since I’ve been gone?” I joked.

“What? Not on your life. That’s my Mooch’s room and no one else’s.” He hugged me tight. I loved the feel of his familiar gray work shirt on my face. The worn out cotton was familiar to me since I was a little girl. He’s worn the same outfit for the past twenty-six years.

“I’m glad I came home.” I looked at him and smiled.

“I’m glad you’re home too.” He kissed me on the forehead and I headed towards my bedroom door.

A sense of apprehension enveloped me as I took the familiar creaky, wooden steps to my room in the attic. The last time I was up there, Kris was alive. My apartment-style bedroom was the official party room since my dad was out every weekend. I was a cheerleader and very popular when I attended St. Christopher’s. By the time freshman year arrived, I seemed to have blossomed overnight. The weight came off, my breasts grew, and my body became curvy and filled out. Put that on top of the fact I had no real parental supervision, I was who everyone wanted to hang out with. I took in everything, swiftly. Missing on my nightstand were the four pictures of me and Kris. My dad must have put them away, so I wouldn’t be so upset. I was relieved he had. Walking around to my closet I noticed a few things hanging in there from my high school days. All my prom and homecoming dresses, my favorite outfits, and my communion dress, covered in plastic. Despite all the bad memories, being home gave me a sense of comfort and belonging.

That night, I ate way too much as usual. My dad went to our favorite bakery and bought chocolate chip cannoli’s I couldn’t refuse. He fell asleep in his rocking chair, and I fell asleep on the couch. I woke around two and we both went to our rooms. The quietness of the house and the familiar smells put me to sleep almost instantly. What a wonderful feeling curling up in my bed, listening to my dad snore, and the refrigerator making the chirping sound it did when I lived there.

* * * * *

Sunday morning came with my dad calling me at seven in the morning. I was in a deep sleep and I could hear him in the distance.

“Mooch, come on.”

“What? Is the house on fire?” I mumbled half asleep. The thought of getting out of my comfy bed was not what I had in mind. I was prepared to sleep all day.

“Breakfast at Eddies. We have to go. Get your butt in gear. I have a busy day planned for us,”

The familiar aroma of coffee brewing in the morning reminded me of how horrible his coffee always tasted.

“Can’t we do lunch. I’m so tired,” I whined like I did when I lived there. I turned over and covered my head.

I could hear his footsteps as he started walking up the stairs. When I was little, that usually meant he was getting me up by force. “You better do what you’re told or I’m going to ground you,” he laughed. I threw off the covers and sat up.

“Wow, what a change. I remember begging you to take me to breakfast back in the day.” I would beg to go to Eddies when I was a kid, but he was always too hungover and slept till noon.

“Don’t start. I’m a new man now.” I wished he became a new man when I needed him. I didn’t want to argue and decided to enjoy my time.

“I’m coming, Dad. Let me at least take a shower and put on makeup.”

“No time. You have to hurry. The shower is okay, but no time for the makeup shit.”

“What’s the big hurry?”

“Someone’s going to be at Eddies I want you to meet,” he smiled at me.

“This better not be one of your fix-ups with a random customer from the store, Dad. I don’t want it.” I brushed the hair out of my eyes.

My dad hated Kris and wanted to fix me up with several of the guys who frequented the store. Most of them were contractors and Italian or “spaghetti benders” as he called them. I told him over and over, hooking up with any of them was not going to happen and I wasn’t getting involved with someone in Ohio.

“Get moving and let’s go.”

I swung my legs out of the side of the bed, checked my phone, and noticed I had two texts. The first one was from Sven.

How is life in Hee Haw Hell?

To Sven, anything not inside New York City was hillbilly or hell. I would call him later. The other text was from none other than Mr. Andrews.

You’re thinking of me. Colt

The text made my face flush and I couldn’t help but smile. I contemplated texting him back when my dad yelled back to me.

“Gabriella, are you ready?” I turned off my phone without responding.

This was hopeless. I threw on my yoga pants, sweatshirt, and tennis shoes and put my hair in a ponytail. I would have to get a shower later.

“Coming, Dad.”

He took me into the restaurant like he was showing off a princess, and to him, I was. The place was busier than I remembered, but several of the usual’s were there and they all seemed glad to see me. My dad’s buddies asked me how the big city was, if I was on television, and how could I stand all the noise. I noticed the same people from high school around the town with no hopes of getting out or doing better. Chuck Stance, the star quarterback was now the head mechanic at Sonny’s Tire. Cindy Carter the girl most likely to succeed was now the girl with the most children. Five in tow and pregnant with another, I tried not to stare at her, shocked. Her flawless complexion and the perfect figure were long gone. She was there eating with all her kids and not happy.

Halfway through a huge breakfast of eggs, fried salami, onions and peppers, and toasted Italian bread, I wanted to head home, take a shower, and not eat for a month. My dad had something else planned. Just before I thought we were going to leave, in walked a stunning looking woman I had not seen before. My dad jumped up and kissed her on the cheek and whispered something in her ear. Smiles were plastered on each one of their faces as they seemed to be laughing at an inside joke the two of them shared. My dad, I noticed, didn’t make eye contact with me. He was sweating and wiping his forehead off with his napkin. The woman stood a few inches taller than my dad, tanned, and bleached blonde. She had her hair tied in a loose bun and wore a red checkered sundress and wedge heels. She had simple makeup and a light pink color on her lips. The scent of lavender permeated the air as she sat next to me. I realized what was happening before anyone said a word.