Part 5 (2/2)
I had no trouble imagining Mari as spoiled. Two weeks ago I might have sneered to think that, but here I was chuckling along with Chacho like a laugh track. It actually made me jealous to think of this family growing up so close and loving one another the way they did.
Not that my folks were Darth Vader and Joan Crawford. It's just that they were formal and didn't show a lot of emotion, whether they were happy, sad, angry or proud. I never felt unloved or anything awful like that but there were lots of times when I was with my friends and their families that I wondered what it would feel like to be hugged spontaneously just because.
By the time we reached the front yard, Mari, Talia and one of Chacho's friends were laying down the last corner. Bo and his crew were stringing sprinklers all over the yard to soak the ground before we left.
Mari and I stepped back to let the kids finish.
”You saved the day, Mari. Bo and I would have been stuck here till midnight if you hadn't called these guys.”
”I knew Pepe would send them when I called him because he was really glad I was working off my hours here. He likes your boss, Mrs. Ruiz.”
”And she likes him. She wants him on our board, so when I found out he was your uncle, I had to start being nice to you.”
”And you didn't have much time.” Oh, she was cute, especially when she smiled. ”Lucky for you, I made it easy.”
”Yes, you did,” I said with as much sincerity as I could muster without going overboard and looking like I was just trying to curry favor with Pepe. ”And any time you want to come out on a Sat.u.r.day and grace us with your hard work and charming personality, we'll be happy to have you.”
”Like I always tell my clients-dream big.”
She pulled off her cap and loosened her hair, which was matted to her head from a day's worth of sweat. The rich black dirt from the sod was caked under her fingernails, in rings around her neck, and in the tiny crow's feet around her eyes. She was still gorgeous.
I was busy admiring that when I backed up a couple of steps to give the kids room to place the last squares of sod. My feet got tangled in one of Bo's hoses and I went sprawling backward onto my a.s.s. Again.
”Are you okay?”
I gripped Mari's extended hand and pulled myself up. She had a way of sucking up so much of my brain that my legs forgot to work. At this rate, I'd kill myself in another month if she kept coming around to the jobsite.
”Good as new.”
The water suddenly sprayed the very spot where we were standing and we leapt out of the way. From the faucet by the house, Bo rubbed his hands together with satisfaction.
”That's a wrap, guys. This one's ready for a family.”
There were goofy, giddy grins all around as we congratulated ourselves. While the kids were pleased to get our thanks, it was obvious Mari's approval-and by extension, Pepe's-was more important. She hugged and kissed each of them as they climbed into their cars. I wouldn't mind if she did that to me.
”Mari, it's been a real pleasure,” Bo said, shaking her hand. ”Next time you want to break the law and end up out here with us, you just go right ahead.”
”Thanks, but I think I'll take a pa.s.s on that.”
Once Bo walked away, I started feeling awkward, like the last few minutes when you know something might happen but you aren't quite sure what you want it to be. I left Mari a few seconds to say something-see you around, thanks for the memories-and when she didn't, I decided just to stick with the official stuff.
”I'll get your paperwork off to the courthouse on Monday so you should hear from them later in the week. They're usually pretty good about following through right away.”
”I appreciate it, Daphne. As much as I hate to admit it, it was kind of fun. If you guys didn't start your day at such a G.o.d-awful hour, I might even come around again sometime.” She got into her car but didn't close the door. ”But you know how I hate having to be at work so early.”
”For you, I'll make an exception. Come back and see us anytime.”
We were both just uttering pleasantries. There was little chance I'd ever see her again, unless her uncle came on the board and brought her along to one of our functions.
Just because two women were lesbians-single lesbians of pheromone-producing age-didn't mean they'd automatically be attracted to each other. Sure, I found Mari hot, but so did probably everyone else.
Even if I'd been the most charming person in Miami, it wouldn't have changed the fact I wasn't in her league.
Chapter Seven.
I have as much right as the next person to walk around on South Beach. It doesn't matter-or at least it shouldn't matter-that most of these other women take their fas.h.i.+on cues from J-Lo, while I take mine from Hillary Clinton. I just have a different idea about what looks good on me versus what looks good on everyone else. I've never been one to wear skirts or dresses, and that isn't due only to my tendency to go a.s.s over teakettle at the slightest b.u.mp on the sidewalk.
Nor is it because I don't consider myself feminine. It's not like guys go around wearing Capri pants and sandals with bows or sequins like I do. But I have neither the eye nor the clothes budget to shop for the sort of stylish things I find attractive on other women.
”I just love coming down here to people watch,” Edith said as the three of us shouldered through the Labor Day crowd on Lincoln Road Mall.
There isn't much you can't see on South Beach, from a bare-chested bodybuilder walking a pair of Chihuahuas to a twenty-something woman in a bikini and sarong on the arm of a guy as old as Mordy. Or a toothless woman in an overcoat shouting profanities to no one in particular. Or a young African-American in a driving cap who had spray-painted himself bronze, standing perfectly still on an overturned box like a statue out of a civil rights museum. And lots of beautiful, olive-skinned Latin Americans.
And us. A fas.h.i.+on-challenged d.y.k.e with a short Jewish guy and his red-haired Amazon of a wife. What I find fascinating is we don't actually stick out, despite not looking like anyone else here. You have to be a lot more outlandish than us to get noticed on Miami Beach, and why would anyone look our way when there's so much else to choose from?
Not getting noticed suited all three of us until we'd stood five minutes waiting for acknowledgment by the maitre d' at the Van d.y.k.e Cafe.
”Hey, you see us standing here?” Mordy snapped. ”What do you suppose we want?”
The indignant man never uttered a sound nor made eye contact, but he nonetheless led us down the sidewalk and dropped three menus at a pretty decent table.
As Edith and I tried to decide between pasta and Middle Eastern fare, Mordy craned his neck to follow the sight of an exotic woman in hot pants, thigh boots and a leather bustier, her surgically enhanced b.r.e.a.s.t.s motionless despite her steady gait.
”She's not interested in a dirty old man like you,” Edith said drily. ”You're stuck with me.”
”For your information, you old biddy, I happen to know that woman. She's married to a man I used to work with at the union office.”
I didn't believe that for a minute, but Mordy always had the ready answer when Edith caught his wandering eye. Had to be automatic after so many years together.
”First I catch you ogling other women. Then you lie about it. You have no shame. What do you think Daphne thinks of you?”
”Whoa! Leave me out of this. In fact, let's leave all of us out of it. We're here to celebrate the end of the summer and pay homage to working people. It's a happy occasion.”
He scoffed across the table at his wife. ”I told you Daphne didn't want to hear you bickering all the time.”
”How can I bicker by myself?”
”Enough, you two!”
Tonight was our first outing in over a month while we waited for Edith's summer sinus infection to clear up. We'd walked the three blocks from our condo building to the Omni Station and picked up the Metro bus for a quick ride across the historic Venetian Causeway to Miami Beach. Even when we carried our beach chairs, made of lightweight canvas, it was easier than driving over and finding a place to park.
”Mojito, touch of bitters,” I told the waiter.
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