Dex (16 page)

CHAPTER twenty-two

Alicia parked in the lot of the small strip mall at the intersection of Route 306 and Willow Cove Road next to Caldor’s, a defunct department store where her grandmother loved to shop when Alicia was little. It had been vacant for decades, but a fleet of bulldozers and construction materials occupied much of the open space. Jazz had texted her to meet him there because he wanted her opinion about something important. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but she was sure she didn’t want to miss spending time with him.

Alicia grabbed her bag and got out of the car. It was a lot windier than she had expected. The cold ran through her as she folded up the collar of her light leather jacket. A quick glance at her phone told her she was only a few minutes late. Meanwhile, Jazz was nowhere to be found. She was thinking of getting coffee when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.

“Hey,” Jazz said from behind her.

“Hi. Sorry I’m late.” Alicia rubbed her hands together.

“No bother. I really appreciate your meeting me.” He turned on his camera. “I was around the back with the foreman.”

“Oh. Okay,” she said watching as Jazz adjusted the lens. “The foreman?”

“Yes.” Jazz was now aiming his camera at Alicia.

“Why?” Alicia stuck her tongue out at the camera and laughed.

“It’s my uncle. I’m filming the development of the new shopping center being built on this site.”

“Wow. That’s ambitious,” Alicia mused.

“Do you think it’s too much?”

“It’s just that it won’t be finished by the time the project is due.”

“Well, I was thinking maybe of playing it up from a different angle. Like what goes on in the process from the perspectives of the crew.” Jazz stood on a large flat rock and panned the site from one end to the other.

“That actually sounds kind of brilliant.” Alicia was impressed.

She was still shivering and thought about standing closer to Jazz, but he was still engrossed in filming and she didn’t want to distract him. Besides, they were still only friends and she didn’t want to give him any ideas he didn’t already have on his own. Her friend Lola called her a ‘sad grandma’ for not telling Jazz she liked him, but Alicia still wanted him to be the one to make the first move if there was going to be one.

Jazz readjusted the camera lens. “How’s Dex doing?”

“Uh,” she hesitated. Were they close enough that she could be honest? But Jazz did look genuinely concerned. “Not so well actually. But thanks for asking.”

Jazz stopped filming. “What’s going on?”

“He keeps asking to be home-schooled.”

“Whoa. That bad. Poor bloke. I mean, I guess it could work for some kids, but I had a friend whose parents did that; turned him into a total bludger.”

“A what?” Alicia asked, trying not to laugh at the odd term.

“Oh right, you don’t know that one,” Jazz laughed. “It’s a guy who just hangs around and soaks up the air. Doesn’t get out, has his mates come to his place, that kind of thing.” Alicia smiled and nodded, enjoying his explanation.

Suddenly, a crane lifted a large block of cement and Jazz went back to filming.

“I know,” Alicia continued. “It sucks to be twelve.”

“For sure,” Jazz agreed. “Especially when you’ve sent heaps of people into a Technicolor yawn.”

This time, Alicia couldn’t resist and burst out laughing.

“Let me guess,” she said. “That’s Australian for hurling?”

“I suppose,” Jazz said. “That’s throwin’ up, right?” Alicia rolled her eyes and nodded. “Oh, then yeah.” Then Jazz started snickering. “Hurling? Heh. Haven’t heard that one before.”

Alicia moved comfortably closer to Jazz. “What are you shooting now?” she asked, noticing Jazz moving the camera in an entirely different direction.

“My uncle’s other project. A new office building next to the mall. It’s being modeled after the one over there.” He pointed across the street.

“Which one?” Alicia asked.

“Perfect,” Jazz said distracted. “I’m outta tape.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I haven’t used this yet.”

Alicia went into her bag and took out her camera. Just as she got hold of the tape, her foot hit a rock and the tape flew into the air. As she and Jazz both reached up to catch it they fell forward, trapping the tape between their bodies. They looked at the tape and then each other.

For a moment, Alicia wasn’t sure what to do. Should she move away? Should she say something? She couldn’t make up her mind so she closed her eyes. And that’s when Jazz kissed her. His lips felt warm and soft pressed against hers and suddenly the cold no longer bothered her.

A construction worker nearby whistled and Alicia and Jazz both flinched out of their moment.

Jazz chuckled as the tape began to slip between them and he quickly pressed against her to keep it from falling. His hand grazed her thigh as he reached for the tape and he put it into the camera before either of them could speak about what had just happened.

“So like I was saying, my uncle is using that great old building over there as a model.” Jazz said, already filming.

“Over where?” Alicia asked.

“There,” he pointed and showed her through the camera lens. “The one with all the detailing around the roof and windows.”

“You’re kidding!” Alicia exclaimed. “That’s my old building. A lot of my family lived there over the years. The restaurant is next door.”

“Poppy’s Kitchen? I didn’t realize it was so close.”

“We used to have dinner there every Sunday. That’s how Dex learned to cook,” Alicia sighed. “He used to help Poppy make everything. But now it all feels like a waste. It’s hard to believe, but my brother has actually given up.”

Jazz put his camera away in the soft case slung around his shoulder. “But, if there’s no show, no lunch stand, and maybe no school, what’s gonna happen to Poppy’s Kitchen?”

#

Dex dumped a can of pasta and sauce into a bowl and put it in the microwave. He wasn’t even sure how canned spaghetti had made its way into the pantry. He figured it was an old mistake from one of Geema’s shopping trips that no one had ever bothered to return. Dex wasn’t sure why he felt he had to eat it. Probably to get used to a new menu, since he had vowed never to cook again. It was the least he could do after the mess he’d made.

It had been a couple of days since he’d gone to school, and his parents told him that he had the rest of the week to figure out a way to move on. He was still intent on home-schooling as the healthiest option, but he was safe for now.

The doorbell rang and Dex left the beeping microwave to see who it was. He took a peek out the window and saw Sarah, looking way too hot to be anywhere near him. She was dressed in jeans and a tan leather jacket. Her hair was long and loose without any ponytail or clips forcing it to behave. Her lips were a light frosty pink and her whole face looked shimmery. He wondered how long he could make her stand there just so he could keep looking at her. But, he couldn’t do that. He had to let her in. He took a quick whiff of his armpits, which he determined were passable, then ran his hands over his hair. He was as ready as he could be and hesitantly opened the door.

“Hi,” Sarah said, then gave him a once over. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” he answered, leading her to the family room.

“Nice shirt,” Sarah chuckled, taking a seat.

Dex looked down. He’d forgotten he was wearing an old Power Rangers tee-shirt that still fit him. “Yeah. My real stuff’s in the laundry.”

“I don’t mind.” Sarah smiled. “Nice memories.”

“Is...is everything okay, Sarah?”

“You tell me, Dex.”

“What do you mean?” He sat down on the couch, opposite her.

“You weren’t in International Cooking. And that Presto guy’s show was on during your time slot.”

“It’s better this way,” Dex insisted. “No one’s barfing.”

“So. That’s it. Some kids barfed and you’re life is over.”

“You don’t get it Sarah. Nobody laughs at you. You think barf is my only problem?”

“Huh?”

“Forget it.”

“Dex, you can’t just say something like that and then--”

“Alright. Fine,” Dex argued. “Look at me.”

She eyed him up and down. “Yeah, so...?” Sarah was puzzled.

“Notice anything?”

“You wear dorky tee-shirts?”

“No. Something besides that.”

“What do you want me to see?”

Dex was frustrated and hesitant to answer her. “Someone,” he managed to squeak out. “Someone like Bryce.”

“What’s so great about Bryce? He’s a dumb-ass jock. We broke up.”

“I thought you, um, girls, like guys like him,” Dex said starting to perk up.

“Yeah. The way guys like girls like Jade Carravaccio. My boobs sure don’t look like hers.”

“But that’s not what all guys care about.”

“Exactly.”

“Huh?”

“Not everybody orders the same sandwich, Dex.”

Dex felt himself start to smile and for the first time in nearly a week, he let it happen.

“And one other thing,” Sarah added. “I’d never order chicken salad. I hate it. So at your show, I ate everything else, and I was fine. I told Jordy and he agreed. We don’t think your cooking had anything to do with everyone puking.”

Dex raised an eyebrow.

“And Dex?”

“Yeah?”

“One more thing.” Sarah sat down next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. She leaned in and kissed him in a way that made him completely forget the Power Rangers between them.

CHAPTER
twenty-three

“Dexy, it’s been a while since I’ve told you a good bedtime story,” Geema said from the couch. “I think it’s time. Why don’t you get us some milk.”

“Sure,” Dex said, walking to the kitchen.

“And those leftover Cocoa Kiss cookies you baked that I hid.”

“Hid?” Dex asked, stopping in his tracks.

“In a bag behind the olive oil,” Geema admitted.

Dex chuckled and came back with a crowded tray.

“Come sit here,” Geema motioned.

Dex put the food on the table and sat down next to her.

‘“The thing is,’ Poppy used to say, ‘it’s a lot easier to stop a fire when you know how to adjust the flame,’” Geema began.  “Long before he had his own restaurant, Poppy worked part- time at Gross’s delicatessen on the lower east side of Manhattan. The deli was a family-run business, and Poppy’s job was usually to work behind the counter slicing meats and refilling the salads and condiments. His friend, Stuie, the owner’s son, was also a counter guy.”

“Every once in a while,” Geema continued, “especially around the Jewish holidays when it got really busy, the boys were asked to help prepare the entrees, sandwiches, and side dishes in addition to their other responsibilities. One night, after closing, there was an emergency. Stuie’s grandfather was in a fender bender on the West Side Highway and got a mild concussion. Stuie’s father had to go to the hospital and then take care of the car.”

“That day the deli had gotten tons of orders for whole turkeys, roasts, and salads. There was more to cook and prepare than anyone had anticipated, and the customers needed to get their orders before sundown, in time for the Jewish New Year. Stuie’s father was in a bind and asked
Poppy and Stuie to make sure the meats were taken out of the oven on time, and that the vegetables for the salads were chopped and sliced. His only other request was to make the chopped liver. The liver was already cooked and the onions were sautéed, but it still needed to be mixed with the rest of the ingredients.”

“But Poppy had already made a date that night with me,” Geema went on with pride, “‘The most beautiful girl,’ he told Stuie, ‘he had ever seen.’” Geema blushed and continued. “Poppy waited until everyone left to ask Stuie if he minded handling the work on his own. Stuie said it was no problem, except for the chopped liver. Stuie’s father had left him a recipe and ingredients and told him they should make a big batch for the next day.”

“Aside from the smell of liver making him gag, Stuie had no clue what to do. He wanted to be a baseball player and was only working at the deli because his father insisted. Poppy told him not to worry and to leave the chopped liver to him. He had a key and would make it to work way before anyone got there in the morning.”

“‘But,’ Poppy would say, ‘plans are like planes. They take off when they’re good and ready.’ And that’s what happened on our date. Hour after hour flew and by the time he got to my front door, he’d forgotten all about the chopped liver. It was almost dawn when Poppy jumped up out of a dream and realized his mistake.”

“He got dressed quickly and ran to the deli. It was too late to start making anything. Poppy thought quickly, packed the ingredients in a carton, and brought them home. Then he went a few blocks away to a 24-hour diner he knew and bought out their chopped liver. He ran back to the deli praying no one was there yet. The place was empty. He kept one eye glued to the door as he added a couple of unexpected ingredients to give the recipe a touch of originality. He had just finished filling the containers when Stuie came in with his father.”

“Stuie looked relieved and gave Poppy an enthusiastic smile. Poppy was so grateful to be done with the ordeal that he passed the credit for the work, including the chopped liver, to Stuie. His father took a bite and beamed. He said it was the most delicious liver he had ever tasted. Poppy said all he did was help and that Stuie was the one with the talent. Stuie’s father thanked them both and gave the boys the rest of the day off.”

“And it all would have been fine if Morty Becker, of Becker’s Diner, hadn’t sent his pregnant wife, who had an intense craving for hot pastrami piled high on seeded rye, to Gross’s Deli for lunch. She took one look at the chopped liver and asked for a taste. As he was handing her a sample, Stuie’s father was bragging about what a gifted chef his son was. Mrs. Becker took one bite and started screaming that the chopped liver was her husband’s. Stuie’s father yelled back that she was out of her mind, and so the feud began.”

“Poppy decided to keep his mouth shut. Which he said lasted about five minutes. Even though he needed the money, he couldn’t lie. He marched into the kitchen and told Stuie’s father all about me and the chopped liver from Becker’s. Poppy told him he felt guilty, so guilty he even offered to quit.”

“At first, Stuie’s father was angry and almost accepted his resignation. But after a few very tense minutes, he started laughing out of nowhere, saying he remembered what it was like to be out with a beautiful woman. Poppy figured he must have had a good memory since Stuie’s mother wasn’t exactly a stunner. Poppy had no clue what was so funny, but he laughed along with Stuie’s father until his apology was accepted and his job was secured. But, there was one condition: Poppy couldn’t say a word about what happened to anyone, including Stuie. The terms were unshakable. It was to remain their secret.”

“In the days that followed, the expression ‘there’s no such thing as bad publicity’ became enormously evident. Becker’s claim that Gross’s stole their recipe helped both restaurants become more popular than ever before as customers went back and forth to decide who made the better liver.”

“It was years before Poppy shared the story with me,” Geema said, “And, he kept his word and never told Stuie the truth. But, he did give him his recipe, and Stuie and your grandfather stayed best friends.”

“You see Dex, in life, there are no such things as mistakes. Every experience teaches us some kind of important lesson.”

“As a matter of fact, it was Stuie who finally convinced Poppy to open the restaurant. It took some prodding since Poppy was humble and anything but a businessman. But Stuie assured Poppy that given his talent, he would be very successful. By that time Stuie was a lawyer, and he helped Poppy set up the whole business.”

“For many years, before he followed his daughter’s family to Israel, Stuie and his wife were regulars at the restaurant. Each visit he would leave saying, ‘Ralphie, you gotta patent that pesto of yours.’ And Poppy would say, ‘You gotta patent that pesto of mine.’”

“It was a long-running joke since we all knew Poppy didn’t care about that kind of stuff and would never bother. He believed very simply in an
honest day’s pay for an honest day’s work
. That was part of your grandfather’s charm; he had no idea how wonderful he was.”

“That’s a really cool story Geema.” Dex took a long swig of milk. “What’s a patent?”

“It’s kind of like a legal stamp of approval that a product belongs to you.”

#

Dex couldn’t stop fidgeting. A temp worker filling in for Casey had let him into Ezra’s office, but told him ‘the boss’ was in a meeting and Dex could be waiting a while. There were just so many times he could go over what he wanted to say. He knew he would apologize. Not just for making everyone sick, which both Sarah and Jordy questioned, but for running away. Ezra was entitled to an explanation, even if Dex didn’t have one. The door opened and Dex sucked in a deep breath, ready to defend himself. But instead, as soon as Ezra spotted Dex, he gave him a warm smile, which left Dex confused.

“I know I should have spoken with you about everything,” Dex apologized. “But, I freaked. I’m really sorry. I won’t let anything like that happen again--ever.” Dex looked at Ezra squarely in the eye. “I’d really like my job back.”

“I see,” Ezra said from the seat he took on the corner of his desk.

Dex could feel himself trembling. What if he’d blown it and Ezra was too upset with him to take him back? Even if he reopened his lunch stand he’d never be able to make enough money to save Poppy’s Kitchen, and the
Gymbuff
would be totally out of the question unless he wanted to be an eighty-year-old with a six pack.

Ezra stood up and Dex braced himself for the worst.

“Do you know what happened to your ratings that day?” Ezra asked.

“I guess they were pretty bad.” Dex sighed heavily. Now he was really worried. “It was probably the worst thing that could ever happen on a cooking show.”

Ezra handed Dex the ratings sheet. “Kid, in this industry there’s no such thing as bad publicity.”

Dex looked at the report and gasped.

“Your ratings went right through the roof!” Ezra shrilled. “Your YouTube clip went viral. Your audience wants you back. You’re the biggest thing since…”

“Surprised Kitty and Baby Panda Sneeze,” Dex finished.

#

Even though he hadn’t closed his lunch stand for long, his customers had been sending emails and even letters asking when he’d be back. He thought they were just being nice; like feeling sorry for a batter who struck out and lost the game.

But as more and more people emailed him, Dex became even more confused. His increased popularity was as tough for him to digest as his chicken salad had been for everyone at school. He couldn’t imagine how a YouTube clip of an audience full of kids puking had enticed people to line up for what he had to offer. Could it be that Ezra and Poppy were right? Was there truly no such thing as bad publicity?