Today I have the second part of OUT OF TOUCH from Robin at Your Daily Dose. When we last left Gigi, she had just gotten fired after blurting out something she shouldn't have known: that Bambi got the promotion because she slept with the boss.
I left the
building with a police escort. Sean Fitzgerald, one of Franny's (who's Franny?) older brothers,
and his partner, and my ex-boyfriend,
Leo Connolly, performed the honor.
Leo marched back
inside Brown and Bell to talk to Bambi once I was safely removed from the
premises. Meanwhile, Sean gave me the hairy eyeball in the rearview mirror,
along with a scalding lecture on moral responsibility. He finished and glared
at me expectantly.
I stared back and
tried desperately not to touch anything. Police cars were ripe with visions.
All I could see in the mirror were piercing green eyes boring holes into me.
They were topped by auburn eyebrows. His hair was no longer than a quarter
inch. Even though I couldn't see them, I knew that he had the whitest, and
possibly straightest, teeth of anyone I knew. However, good looks weren't going
to sway me. We were next door neighbors and family. My history with the
Fitzgeralds was long and tight-knit. After my father, John Reilly, was killed
in the line of duty when I was one week away from turning six, they
pseudo-adopted me. The oldest sister, Mary Margaret, married and produced the
first grandchild, Kelly, a few years before my father died. When Kelly named
her grandparents Grady and Mimi, it wasn't long before they were my Grady and
Mimi, too. Do we need to know all this now?
"It wasn't my
fault. At least not ALL my fault."
"Is that your
statement?"
"Yes. I think
I will stick with that."
He twisted in his
seat so that we were facing one another."What is it with you? The only
other time you've clocked someone was
Kenny Ross back when you were in kindergarten. Of course, he did sort of
have it coming."
"Exactly"
I punctuated my point with a hand slap
to his front seat. I yanked my hand back like the seat was laced with herpes.
"You're
saying she had it coming?" He looked doubtful.
I nodded
enthusiastically.
He shook his head
before reminding me, "As I recall, all that netted you was a spanking that
didn't allow you to sit down for a week and a new name that stuck to you like
glue."A smile lit up his face that made my cheeks burn.
"Hey, buster,
easy on the smiling up there. It wasn't that funny."
The front
passenger door opened and Leo angled in to the seat. He absorbed all of the air
in the car. His hair was black, eyes
blue, and his lips skilled. Leo was my first serious boyfriend and I thought it
was love. We spent one idyllic summer together between my junior and senior
year of college. I still didn't know why it ended.
When I heard
through the grapevine that Leo and Sean became partners, I figured the odds
were fairly good I'd see him again. Prior to that, I only glimpsed him in
passing since he moved back home. I avoided him like spandex, poison ivy, and
small, yappy dogs. The memories of that summer still had teeth and my heart was
carefully stitched together with dental floss. The slightest puncture and it could
all come undone. So, despite living in the same town for the last four years,
this was the closest we had been since that summer. I expected awkward. What I
didn't expect was a flash of desire that prickled the nape of my neck, as well
as a place further south. Leo was still dynamite and a smart person didn't play
with explosives.
"How did it
go?" Sean asked Leo.
"Let's just
say she decided not to press charges after some careful consideration. Several
secretaries corroborated your story that she smacked you first. What was odd
was that none of the men saw anything." I rolled my eyes."She made a
lot of noise about pressing charges anyway. So, I told her that was her right,
but with the eyewitness testimony I didn't see it going anywhere."
"What did she
say?" I asked.
"She crossed
her arms over her chest and pouted."
Undoubtedly she
was pushing her breasts up in order to sway Leo. Maybe Roger Brown granted me a
favor by sleeping with that tart. Never again would I have to watch Bambi
flaunt around the office with overflowing cleavage and short skirts. What kind
of name was Bambi anyway? A deer name. That's what.
"So, is she
pressing charges?" Sean asked.
"No,"
Leo said.
I shifted my line
of sight over to Sean, trying to ignore Leo. I A rivulet of sweat ran between
my shoulder blades. I needed to get out of this car. "Sean, does that mean
I can go home now?"
"Gigi, please
go home."
I stepped into the
sauna that was July. Sweet, sweet relief.
***
The address of my
license has always been 3118 Edgewood Drive, Newfield, New York. As a New York
City suburb, half of Newfield lines the train station platform for the daily
hour plus commute. I live in a three square mile chunk of homes made up of
mostly Irish families that the locals refer to as New Dublin or New Dub. (I'm not sure we need this info either. I'd rather have a description of the neighborhood once she enters it.) Since
I have yet to reach the high water mark of six months of steady employment,
that is the same address on my mother's license. It was tempting to detour to
anywhere else because I dreaded the confrontation with her. However, it went
out on the police scanner, so in a matter of hours, it would be all over New
Dub and served up with the pot roast for dinner.
Eileen, aka my mom, was waiting for me on the front
porch swing. She didn't want me to call her Mom in public after my dad died (why?) and
it didn't take long for her to become Eileen all the time. Only an emergency
drove Eileen outdoors in July.
All of the houses
on our street look pretty much the same. They are all big and lumbering with
wraparound porches meant for sitting outside and gossiping, with scraps of
front yard, decorated with an oak tree or two that umbrella out like a quilt.
Most houses have four stories, if you include the attic and cellar, and a bay
window. Good description.
She lit a
cigarette as I stopped the car. That meant seven to eight minutes of
conversation about my latest employment fiasco. The set of her shoulders
indicated her tension. She was dressed for work at Last Call, a local bar, in a
white blouse and black slacks. Her blonde hair was knotted at her neck. She was
beautiful, like a Roman statue, or a Rembrandt painting, and just as
untouchable.
I decided to
attack this situation aggressively and took the steps to the porch at a quick
clip. I settled myself on the swing beside her without her even missing a beat
in her forward backward motion.
"Nora called
to say that there was an incident at Brown and Bell." Eileen threw out the
opening gambit and then waited for the criminal, which would be me, to offer up
the details and incriminate herself. This was an old dance step, so I knew better
than to open my mouth.
She flicked the
ash off the end of her cigarette into the brown ceramic ash tray on the porch
railing. The lines around her mouth tightened and she continued. "Nora
said that Sean Fitzgerald was the officer at the scene and that you were
involved." Whoever talked now lost and it was critical that it not be me.
She sighed and
continued, "Nora said that you punched another employee in the nose and it
might be broken."
"Really? I
broke Bambi's nose?" Oh, crack. I should tape my mouth for these
interrogations.
"So, it's
true. You really did punch Bambi in the nose?"
"Yes, but it
wasn't my fault!"
"This is
starting to sound like Kenny Ross."
"Exactly!
Bambi is a slut who will do anything for a promotion and I hope I did break her
nose."
She took a long drag on her cigarette and
then exhaled. Without missing a beat in the swinging, she tapped the ash off
the cigarette directly into the ashtray.
Most people say
that I am a carbon copy of my mother, which is untrue. I am 5'6" to her 5'2". There is a
horrifying gap between my front teeth and I feel everything, while I wonder if
she feels much of anything. However, we share straight blonde hair, blue eyes,
straight nose, pale complexion, and an athletic build that is completely
deceptive. On me, anyway. Eileen moves like a cat.
"Well, I hope
you remembered that your thumb goes on the outside of your fist this time. You
were lucky you didn't break it on that idiot, Kenny," she said. She smiled
and I knew the worst was over.
"Yeah,"
I said, and grinned back at her.
"Do you
remember the lessons I gave you on self-defense after Kenny?"
How could I
forget? Even Franny spent that month over at our house learning Eileen's
heretofore unknown self-defense techniques. My favorite was still the
"kneecap to ankle" maneuver which can only be performed if you are
wearing hard soled shoes and the "perp" gets you from behind. You
placed the sole of your shoe on the top of his kneecap and pressed as hard as
you could, sending it down to his ankle. The idea was to inflict maximum pain,
disable him from pursuit, while you ran like hell. We didn't actually
"practice" that one, but I've executed that move a hundred times in
my imagination. She said my dad taught them to her when they were dating.
"So Brown and
Bell is history?"
"Yep. Even
before the knockout punch."
"You want to
talk about it?"
"Not
really." It was embarrassing to be unemployed again. My capacity for
losing jobs was starting to become legendary. If I continued at this rate no
one was ever going to hire me.
"I could ask
around at the diner or the bar..."
I cut her a look
and she grimaced. She had already called in both of those favors. I had been
fired from both the diner and the bar for the same reason: my income to outgo
on the destruction of glassware were not in the same league.
She took one last drag on her cigarette.
***
My thoughts: My first thought is we need to know who Franny is so that any reference to her makes sense. My second thought is that some of the descriptions are unnecessary while others would be perhaps be more useful in a different spot. My third is that I'm curious about where Gigi will go from here. I also wonder about her relationship with her mom. Why does she call her Eileen rather than mom? Does Eileen know about Gigi's little talent? Understand why all the jobs haven't worked out? All of this is enough for me to want to read on and find out what happens next.
Readers, what do you think? Any thoughts for Robin?
4 comments:
I have fixed the Franny thing, agree on the Fitzgerald thing (but I don't know where to put it... something more to ponder), and will work on the last as well...
Parsing out the information...uggh! Thanks for the help:)
I know; I have a hard time with that as well. In the beginning, everything is in the wrong place!
Walking the line between giving too much backstory and confusing the reader is difficult. My eye wanders during descriptions.
Why give the full address? Give me 'the address...has always been...New York, in a three square mile cluster of Irish families."
"hairy eyeball" cracked me up.
The phrase "prior to that" seems a bit formal for this ms.
I agree with Marcy's suggestions. Go easy on the descriptions. It's hard, but it helps a lot with the pacing.
Post a Comment