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Authors: Sheri Lynn Fishbach

Dex (25 page)

BOOK: Dex
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CHAPTER thirty-seven

 

 

 

 

Preston was clearing out his desk. He didn’t care. No one could prove anything and in a few weeks this would be old news and he would have a new job at another network. It was just a silly sauce, not the Mona Lisa. He would certainly hold onto the restaurant, and with a few sweet words he could keep Yvette on at least for a little while. He might even have to hire her awful friend Nan from the bank until he could get more grounded. It would be slow to start, but in time, it would become the empire he always knew he deserved. If he played his cards right, Marla would finally realize they were meant to be together. It was all going to fall into place. It would just take patience.

 

Without even a knock, Arby and two men in dark coats bolted into his office.

 

“Et tu, Arby?” Preston said, eyeing one man holding a pair of handcuffs.

 

“Yeah, um, like, I know that one,” Arby boasted. “Shakespeare…Listen mean dude. My uncle told me to like, well, you know, to call security to kick you out before Ezra comes back.”

 

“Care to celebrate the New Year, gentlemen?” Preston asked, extending a bottle of champagne from his desk.

 

“No sir,” the men said.

 

“But these dudes are cops.” Arby explained. “Little dude told me all about the visit you paid him in a company car. And all about the chicken salad. Not cool. You did like, um, you know, a whole mess of wrong.”

 

“Preston LeTray. You are under arrest,” said the man with the handcuffs.

 

“This is an outrage,” Preston shouted. “You have no proof of anything.”

 

Arby held up a plastic bag filled with empty vials of medicine. “Found these in a dumpster when I was looking for my Mountain Dew bottle. Can you believe, I like forgot to like, you know, rip off the coupon? Lucky thing there was a garbage workers’ strike.”

 

“So what?” Preston argued.

 

“I started thinking--” Arby continued.

 

“That must have been a day worth remembering,” Preston mocked.

 

“Once on
Fear Factor
they said this stuff,” Arby held up the bag, “makes you puke and with all those barfing kids I like, um, well, you know, something was rotten in the state of Denmark.”

 

“Wonderful. So you know Shakespeare. This means nothing,” Preston insisted.

 

“Ever watch
CSI
? I love that show. They collect all kinds of, you know, evidence. So, I did that. Got everything I could. Even spoke to Ms. Bidet. Man is she angry at you! Said you promised to marry her then flirted with her friend at the bank.”

 

“Never! I never said or did any such thing,” Preston barked. “Lies. All lies.”

 

“Well, she, you know, said she was done covering for you. And then she handed over all kinds of like, papers and stuff.”

 

Preston looked horrified.

 

“It took a real long time for everything to be collected, analyzed, and processed, including your fingerprints,” Arby explained, “but they, um, finally, got it all done.”

 

The man with handcuffs spoke. “Preston LeTray, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”

 

#

 

Dex felt good to finally be home in his room. No more of Preston’s threats hanging over his head, no more audiences to calm down and win over. He knew everyone was waiting for him downstairs, but before he started the New Year he wanted to ditch the smell of the evening’s menu still permeating his clothes.

 

He went to his closet to get a pair of jeans and found himself staring at the
Gymbuff
model in the ad, whose chest and pecs were still worlds beyond his own.

 

Would
he
have done anything differently if
he
had been in Dex’s shoes?  Would
he
have agreed to ruin
his
career if he believed it was the only way he could help his family? Maybe
he
wouldn’t have had to make that choice. Maybe
he
looked too strong to mess with. It was hard to know. The truth wasn’t all that clear.

 

A lot of things had gotten strange, but the only thing he really wanted to think about was how he was going to kiss Sarah at midnight. He wasn’t paying attention when he took his shirt off and banged his elbow right into the framed picture of Poppy and Geema, the photo at the restaurant that had been safely hanging on his wall for the past two years since Poppy died. Now it had fallen face up on the floor with a big crack going right through the glass.

 

Haven’t I screwed up enough for one night?!?

 

Dex bent down to pick it up and noticed his eyes were teary. What was up with that? Yeah, he loved that picture, but he also wanted to kiss Sarah. Now was not the time to star in his own Hallmark commercial.
Get a grip.

 

He picked up the frame cautiously and thought maybe Geema still had that crazy glue in her room for manicuring her nails. Maybe that would work. It was worth a shot. As he held the frame, a large, flat envelope fell out from behind the photo and into his other hand.

 

The envelope was only slightly faded, but Dex opened it carefully. His heart began to beat faster, giving him the feeling this could be important. Inside the envelope were two sheets of paper. First was a hand-written note with little splatters of green sauce decorating the secret recipe underneath:

 

Ralphie, thanks for finally filling out the papers I sent you for the patent. The official document should arrive in a few weeks, but it could take months. Not that you’ll do anything with it. But, maybe now I’ll leave you alone. Hey, I moved to Israel, I have to leave you alone. Meanwhile, I am enjoying the recipe you sent, paisan. I made a copy and sent back the original for you to keep with your records. But, what happened to the tape you said you made? Regards to the family. Let’s try to keep in touch. Stuie.

 

The other paper was a letter of authenticity granting Ralph Marino an official patent for his Poppy’s Pesto.

 

If we have the patent, Dex was remembering his conversation with Geema, then, Preston wasn’t just a thief to his family, his friends, and his fans anymore. He was a thief to everyone—a proven criminal! With a sauce recipe that had made millions of dollars Poppy’s family should have gotten.

 

Dex flew down the stairs and heard everyone counting down.

 

“4, 3, 2, 1. HAPPY NEW YEAR!” the group cheered.

 

The news could wait, at least for a minute.

 

Dex walked over to Sarah, took her face in his hands, and planted the happiest kiss of his life right on her lips.

 

She looked a little surprised when he backed away.

 

“I have incredible news,” Dex said bursting into a huge grin. “Presto’s Pesto is ours, and we can prove it!”

 

“What?” Geema asked.

 

Dex handed her the papers. For the first time in ages, Geema was speechless.

 

epilogue

 

 

 

 

“It’s hard to believe tomorrow we’re actually re-opening Poppy’s Kitchen!” Dex beamed and turned his head.

 

“Why’d you do that?” Alicia asked, turning her camera away.

 

“Do what?”

 

“That stupid thing with your head.”

 

Marla, Vince, and Jazz entered through the front door of the restaurant hauling packages followed by a delivery crew bringing in new chairs. Vince showed them how to arrange the seats and then he, Marla, and Jazz went into the pantry to put things away.

 

“I didn’t do anything stupid with my head,” Dex insisted. “You did something dumb with the camera.”

 

“Dex, this is the final scene of my documentary. I have been filming you for months. I know if you’re doing something dumb with your head!”

 

“And I know when you’re shooting weird.”

 

“Kids, stop arguing.” Geema said, coming into the dining room from the kitchen. “I’m trying to rehearse my speech.”

 

“Geema, I don’t need you to rehearse. I want everyone to sound natural,” Alicia explained, resting her camera on a table.

 

“Actually, you should record me now,” she reasoned, “so I won’t forget what I want to say.”

 

“But it’s just a simple question about Dex.”

 

“Dear, if I’m on film, it isn’t simple. I have something to say, and I should be allowed to say it.”

 

“You tell her G’momma,” Jordy said as he, Sarah, Kyle, and Liza placed small bouquets of little white and red flowers with slender stems into sleek crystal vases.

 

“You can say whatever you want, Geema, just act natural,” Alicia said, holding up a centerpiece and inspecting it.

 

“Ya hear G’momma, it’s all good. Just don’t be bogus for the frame,” Jordy explained.

 

“Thank you,” Geema said. “Exactly whose side are you on?”

 

“Ours,” Jordy said. “We all have a together thing.”

 

Geema patted Jordy on the head. “You say a lot more than anyone thinks.”

 

Alicia picked up the camera and went back to filming.

 

Geema went over to the bar and took a glass and a bottle of champagne.  “Leesh, please record me now, while it’s on my mind.”

 

Alicia turned the camera toward her grandmother. “Okay, sure,” she sighed, “start whenever you want. I can edit out mistakes.”

 

“EHHHHHHHHRP!” sounded Kyle as he put down a platter of fresh mozzarella and sun-dried tomatoes.

 

“Like that,” Alicia noted as she hit ‘record.’

 

“Nights like these tell the real story about family and friends,” Geema said, holding up a glass of champagne.

 

“Geema, it isn’t even noon yet,” Alicia corrected.

 

“You’re a director, improvise,” Geema suggested. “A few months ago, I would have never dreamed of eating chicken salad again--”

 

“I don’t think we should bring that up again,” Alicia squawked.

 

“But, it’s true. Did you want to eat chicken salad after that show?”

 

“No, but I never liked it in the first place.”

 

“Me either,” Sarah chimed in never taking her eyes off the floral centerpieces she was arranging.

 

“Can you let me finish?” Geema groaned.

 

“Sure. Go ahead.”

 

“So you can think lousy chicken salad is a bad thing. Or, you can realize that it’s no different than life.”

 

“Chicken salad and life.” Alicia pursed her lips and made a vibrating sound. “Okay, how so?”

 

“After every curve ball life throws our way, things always get set straighter with the next pitch.”

 

“I actually like that,” Alicia said. “I can make it work. Meanwhile, what do you think is next for Dex?”

 

“Maybe a bar-mitzvah. It’s a little late for him, but we’ve had a lot going on.” Geema excused herself and went to the ladies’ room.

 

“How’s it going?” Dex asked Sarah as he inspected the centerpieces. “These look great!”

 

“They do look pretty good,” Sarah agreed. “It must be weird for you to have the restaurant back. Good weird, but still weird.”

 

“Yeah, it is. I miss Poppy. I know he would be proud…of all of us. Sarah, thank you for everything. Especially for reminding me how important it is to have faith. You know, and when to step up to the plate…”

 

“And that is a
wrap
!” Alicia said from behind the camera.

 

“I didn’t know you taped that.”

 

“I know! It was a perfect candid!”

 

“So, we’re done?” Dex asked.

 

“Yup!”

 

“Hey everyone!” Ezra shouted, coming through the door with a crew delivering champagne.

 

Marla, Vince, and Jazz came in following the noise.

 

“Champagne?” Geema said, coming back into the dining room. “I didn’t order any more champagne.”

 

“I did,” Ezra admitted. “I just got a call from Dreamworks. Dex, how would you like to star in a movie?”

 

 

 

 

THE END

BOOK: Dex
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