Going For Broke (29 page)

             
Victoria stepped in.  “Yes, he’s an exterminator.”  She thought that would exterminate any interest Martha had in Mike. No seven figure salaries for exterminators. Not that Victoria cared. 

             
“Oooh!  I’d love it if you could come to my house.  There are some dark crevices that I want you to take a look at.”

             
“I’d be happy to come over anytime,” Mike said as he pulled a business card out of his wallet.  “Give me a call anytime.”

             
Martha cradled the card as if it were gold.  “You bet I will!”  She turned to Victoria with a victorious look on her face.  “Well, this has been a fruitful encounter after all.”  With that, she tucked the card into the dark abyss of her cleavage and walked out the door.

             
“Business cards?” Victoria asked Mike.

             
“It goes to a central line.  All part of the operation.”

             
Sometimes Victoria forgot what exactly Mike was doing there.  She was just used to having him around.  The reference to his work set her sour.  “Well, you have your work.  I should get back to mine.”

             
Mike thought the tone was in response to Martha.  “Don’t worry, Vivi.  She’s not my type.”

             
“I don’t care what ‘your type’ is.  If I did, I would guess she’s exactly your type.”

             
“No, I prefer my women with a bit more fight in them,” he doffed an imaginary hat.    “See you around.”

             
Victoria watched him leave, annoyed that he always seemed to be making fun of her without really saying anything offensive. 

             
“Vicky!  Look what I found!” Elise emerged from the back room proudly carrying a Girl Scout uniform with a fully-loaded sash.  “You’ve inspired me.  You must have been sent here from heaven.”

             
No, the FBI sent me, Victoria thought glumly, and set back to the task at hand.

             
             
             
             
             
             
###

             
Barbara walked into the kitchen and couldn’t believe her nose.  The unmistakable aroma of garlic and onions was wafting through the kitchen.  She knew Bud had a Rotary Meeting tonight, so she was confused and concerned.  The stovetop had two sauté pans and a large pot of water set to boil, but no one was around.

             
“Vicky?  Parker?  Posey?”  She called.  Fritz came trotting into the kitchen, tail wagging, happy to see her.  “Where is everyone?  Fritzy?”

             
Victoria rushed into the kitchen, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.  “Mom!  You’re home early!”

             
“What’s going on here?  Is Bud home?”

             
“No, mother, Bud isn’t home.  I’m cooking dinner tonight!  I thought I’d give you a break.  The kids both had play dates after school, and I had the house to myself, so I thought I’d give it a go.  After all, how hard can it be?”

             
Barbara looked at her kitchen and had an answer on the tip of her tongue as she saw what looked like an explosion of tomato sauce, cheese and were those banana peels?

             
“It smells fantastic!  What can I do to help?”

             
“Just go and watch a little Wheel of Fortune and we’ll be ready to eat at 6:30.  The kids should be dropped off by then.”  Barbara didn’t move, still a bit stunned by the sight of her daughter in the kitchen.  “Go, go - Pat Sajack is calling for you!”

             
Barbara shook her head and did as she was told.  She could have sworn she heard Vicky humming in the kitchen.  Well, well, she thought, never say never.

             
             
             
             
             
             
###

             
At 7:45, Victoria finally called everyone to dinner. 

             
“I’m starving!” Parker yelled as he grabbed a plate.  “What’s for dinner?”

             
“Spaghetti, salad and garlic bread,” Victoria announced as if it was Chateaubriand and Foie Gras.  “Bon appetit!”

             
Barbara eyed the spread.  The bread was charred on one side, the pasta was a solid blob in a bowl and she didn’t think it was possible, but the tomato sauce was burned.  Vicky seemed so proud, Barbara’s motherly instinct took over.

             
“Honey, it looks delicious!” She sat at the table, faking an expectant pose. 

             
Parker put the serving fork into the pasta and pulled out the entire mass of spaghetti.  “Mom, it’s stuck!”

             
Victoria took a knife and cut off a wedge of spaghetti and put it on Parker’s plate.  “There you go.  Do you want some sauce?”  She ladled the thick sauce over his pasta wedge.  Posey got the same plate, wedge and all. 

             
She turned to serve her mother, who said, “Just a bit dear.  I’m trying to lose a few pounds, you know.’  Victoria put a huge clump of spaghetti on Barbara’s plate and sauced it up.  She took nothing for herself.

             
“Aren’t you going to eat?”

             
“Oh, I nibbled while I was cooking.  I’m stuffed.  You all go ahead and enjoy!”

             
She watched as Parker dug into the pasta with gusto. He couldn’t quite tackle the wedge without the help of a knife and quite a bit of elbow grease.

             
“Mommy, I can’t make it work,’ Posey cried. 

             
“No worries, honey.  Let me get that for you”

             
Barbara eyed Victoria suspiciously as she cheerfully sawed Posey’s spaghetti into manageable pieces.  “What puts you in such a good mood today?”

             
“Me?  I’m always in a good mood,” Victoria smiled.

             
Parker almost spit out his dinner. “Right, mom!”

             
“Parker Vernon, please do not speak to your mother --” she stopped herself.  “I am quite often in a good mood, thank you.”

             
“How was the party last night?” Barbara asked.

             
“It was fun, Mom.  Really, nice women, lovely martinis...It was great to get out.”

             
“Don’t you like being with us?” Posey asked.

             
“Of course honey.  Sometimes mommies need a little mommy time.  Just like you have a play date, so do I.” That answer seemed to placate Posey. Barbara, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow.

             
“How did you get home last night?” she asked.

             
“Mother, what am I?  In 7th grade?  It was bad enough that I had to have Bud drop me off.  I wasn’t going to call for a ride home.”

             
“Were there just women at the party?”

             
“Yes?  Where are you going with this mother?”

             
“Oh, nowhere.  I must have been on the wrong track.”

             
             
             
             
             
             
###

             
It had been a crappy day at the shop.  Elise was out, and her husband Dick was filling in for her, which was always more trouble than it was worth.  He didn’t know anything about running the shop, and felt compelled to order Victoria around like she was one of his secretaries in the mid 60s.  Vicky, could you get me a cup of coffee, Vicky, you need to wash this bedpan that just came in.  You can never be too careful.  Vicky, there’s someone out front who looks like they might be stealing.  Victoria couldn’t imagine how someone as sweet and cheerful as Elise could be married to such a Dick.  At least he was aptly named. 

             
When she pulled her bicycle into the garage, she was tired, and all she wanted to pour herself a big glass of wine.  Since she started getting paid, she was able to augment the grocery bill, primarily with bottles of crappy white wine.  Maybe that Edna Valley wasn’t so vile after all.  She parked her bike and she could hear squeals of laughter coming out of the back yard.  The kids must be playing with the dog, she thought.  Instead, she found Mike on hands and knees, with a baseball in his mouth.  Posey could barely contain herself, she was laughing so hard.  Parker would throw the ball across the yard, and Mike would scamper across the yard to fetch it.  He would then throw it back to Parker, who was getting quite proficient both in the catching and throwing departments. 

             
Victoria’s was not amused.  It was one thing for Mike to join her and Parker for a game of catch, but quite another for him to be playing with her kids unattended.  Surely there was a line that had been crossed.  It was bad enough that he followed her around town like a puppy.  This was borderline creepy.  The three of them stopped cold when they saw her.  Parker and Posey knew that look all too well, and stopped playing and stood straight.  They knew the look and wanted it to go away.  Mike was having too much fun. He barked at her.  Fritz echoed him. 

             
Victoria walked up to Mike and took the ball out of his mouth.  Parker tried to explain, but Victoria stopped him before he began. 

             
“Parker Vernon, haven’t I warned you about talking to strangers?  And letting one into our yard?”

             
Mike knew enough to stand.  The game was clearly over.  “Don’t be mad, Vernon.  It’s not their fault.”

             
She turned on him, eyes like steel.  “I know it’s not their fault.  I know who’s fault it is.  What the hell are you doing here?”

             
“Mom, that’s what I was trying to explain!” Parker said. 

             
“Parker, this doesn’t concern you.  Take your sister and go inside.  I need to talk to ... to the exterminator, here.”

             
“We can’t,” Posey said.  “We’re locked out.”

             
“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Parker sighed as he resolutely sat on the back stairs. 

             
“Parker, you know where we hide the key,” Victoria said obtusely, not wanting to disclose their high-security hiding place.

             
“I looked under the planter and it wasn’t there.  I looked everywhere,” he was on the verge of tears. 

             
“Let me explain,” Mike said gently.

             
“You wait right here,” she said to Mike.  “Come on kids, let’s get you inside.  Where are your backpacks?”

             
“We left them at the front door.  We were out there for a while,” Parker answered.

             
Victoria opened the back door with a jiggle of the key and a firm thrust of her hip.  “Okay, get a snack and I’ll be in a minute.  Something healthy!” she called as an afterthought.