Chapter 27
I don't know what upset my sister the most, the sight of Felix or the sight of Pepe. She stood there in the front door, looking from one to the other without uttering a word. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips pursed. She wore a purple floral print dress but the effect was marred somewhat by the gaudy yellow sunflowers all over her apron.
Pepe greeted her with a happy “Hello, Geri's sister. What is for dinner?” then dashed by her feet and into the house while Felix gave her his name and extended his hand. She took it reluctantly and returned it quickly.
“Where did that dog go?” she asked, turning around.
“Probably the kitchen,” I said.
“Oh!” She hurried away down the hall, leaving us to follow. Pepe was sitting in front of the oven, looking at it eagerly.
“You were right, Geri!” he said. “Ham. My favorite.”
“Get him out of here,” said Cheryl, flapping a towel at Pepe.
“Oh, you want to play tug of war,” said Pepe. “A childish game but I accept the challenge.” He grabbed the corner of the towel in his teeth and backed away, growling.
“He's ruining my towel!” said Cheryl. “Make him stop, Geri!”
“Drop it, Pepe!” I said. But my words had no effect.
I tried grabbing the towel myself but that only meant we were now engaged in a three-way tug-of-war.
“If you drop the towel, he'll stop,” Felix observed in his quiet voice.
I let go first, then Cheryl. After a small triumphant toss of his head, Pepe released his hold as well. “I win!” he said.
“We let you win,” I said.
“Nasty creature!” said Cheryl. “Now I'll have to wash it to get the germs off.” She hurried into the adjacent laundry room and stuffed the towel into a basket.
“Where are the kids?” I asked her.
“In the backyard. Don hid eggs and they're trying to find them.” She nodded towards the back door. “I thought they better get it over with before it starts raining again.”
“Kids?” said Pepe in a meek voice.
“You insisted on coming!” I told him.
“Maybe there will be Peeps,” he said.
We went out through the sliding glass door onto a small concrete patio. The yard was only slightly larger than the patio, a little square of green lawn, surrounded by gray concrete block walls. The landscaping consisted of two rows of purple pansies and magenta petunias.
It was under these feeble flowers that Don had hidden the eggs. The kids were out there with their baskets in hand, lifting up the petals and leaves, looking for their treats. Don tried to direct them with hints of “warm” and “cold,” just like our parents did when we were young. It made me feel a little weepy.
Don is the perfect husband for my sister. He's one of those perfectly normal, rather boring guys you always see in the orbit of someone more dazzling. In Don's case, that would be Jeff, my ex-husband. They grew up together in a small town in central Washington, and have been best buddies ever since. Which is why Don invited Jeff to be his best man at his wedding, where I met him, and the rest is history.
“Where's Jeff?” I asked Don.
“Oh, he called and said he and Amber were running late.”
The kids, Danielle and D. J., are five and three. Danielle was wearing a purple floral print dress that matched her mother's. D. J. wore a little yellow polo shirt like his dad's and forest green Gap Kids corduroy pants. Should I mention how I feel about parents who dress their children like miniature versions of themselves? Perhaps it has something to do with the trauma of being forced to wear matching outfits with my sisters for my entire childhood.
The kids were trying hard to keep their clothes clean while searching for the eggs, but it wasn't working. Danielle had brown splotches on the knees of her white tights from kneeling in the dirt. And D. J. had found a snail and squished it against his shirt. Or else that was snot.
As soon as they saw me, they came running. “Auntie Geri! Auntie Geri! Look at my eggs!” said Danielle.
“I got eggs too!” said D. J.
“I got more!” said Danielle. She pushed him aside.
D. J. began crying. That was a familiar scenario to me, too. My sister always had to be the best at everything.
I thought I should distract them. “I want you to meetâ” but when I turned around Pepe had disappeared and so had Felix. That was odd. I greeted Don and helped the kids find the remaining eggs until it began to rain and we went inside.
As we trooped through the kitchen, Cheryl scolded Don for letting the kids get dirty and sent him off to clean them up. Then she pulled me aside.
“Where did you find him?” she asked.
“At the shelter,” I said.
“You picked up a shelter worker?”
“Oh, I thought you were talking about Pepe. No, actually I picked up Felix in a parking lot.”
“Geri! You've got to really do something about your taste in men. You always go forâ”
I interrupted her lecture. “Where did they go anyway?”
“I'm right here.” It was Felix. He had come in behind me and put his hand on the small of my back. I felt a little thrill run through my body. “Your dog was starting to shakeâhe looked scaredâso I suggested we go back to the car and he seemed happy to comply.”
“That doesn't sound like my dog,” I said. “Are you sure?”
“Go and see for yourself!” he suggested.
“I think I will,” I headed out to the car. Pepe was sitting curled up in the back with a bowl of water beside him. Felix had taken off his jacket and used it to make a sort of nest for Pepe. How thoughtful! He really seemed like a nice guy. The windows in the front of the car were rolled down about halfway so there was plenty of air circulation. And since the sun was hidden behind a bank of clouds, the temperature inside the car was cool.
“Are you OK?” I asked him.
Pepe lifted his head. “How could you not have warned me?” he asked.
“Warned you about what?
“Those
niños
!”
“Oh, sorry, Pepe, I forgot you hate kids.”
“It is not that I hate
niños
,” he said. “But that they like me too well. They grab me around the neck, they poke my eyes, they pull my delicate ears. It is not safe for me to be around
los niños
.”
“So you're content to stay in the car?”
“
SÃ!
” he said, “as long as you promise to bring me leftovers.”
Just as I was about to return to the house, a red Ferrari pulled up. It was Jeff, with his petite blond fiancée, Amber. Pepe got up to check out the car.
“
¡Ay caramba!”
Pepe said. “That is one hot ride, Geri.”
“I never got to ride in it,” I mumbled. “Jeff bought it after the divorce.”
“He has good taste in cars,” Pepe said. “I do not understand why you would dump this guy.”
“I didn't dump him, Pepe!” I protested. “He dumped me!”
“Geri! Good to see you!” said Jeff, getting out of the car and heading my way. He looked as handsome as ever, which is pretty handsome. He has thick, dark hair, big brown eyes, and a square jaw. His body looked trim in a white polo shirt and tight jeans. He works out three times a week with a personal trainer. He gave me a quick hug, pressing close so I could feel what I had missed.
“Hi, Geri!” It was Amber, coming up on his flank. Her long blond hair had been carefully styled to fall in artless waves, and she wore a knit red dress that matched the color of the car. She gave me a hug, too, but hers was a mere gestureâa sort of cheek to cheek, pat on the back hug. There is no love lost between us. Amber knows she stole my diamond after I spent years polishing him. Suddenly she gave a squeal.
“What is it, honey?” asked Jeff.
“Oh look at that cute dog in Geri's car!” Amber said pointing at Pepe. “I want one just like that! Can I hold him?”
“Let me out, Geri!” said Pepe, his eyes bright. I was a little hurt that he was so eager to embrace my rival.
“OK,” I said.
I opened the car door, planning to pick him up and hand him to her. But Pepe was faster than me. He jumped out, hurried over to Jeff, lifted his leg, and peed all over Jeff's loafers.
Chapter 28
“Pepe!” I yelled. “Why did you do that?”
“I want him to know who is top dog in your life!” Pepe said. “Thus I covered up his odor with my own.” At least that's what I think he said. Jeff was shrieking in the background, while hopping up and down trying to remove his soiled socks and shoes.
“I'm sorry, Jeff,” I said, hurrying to his aid. “I promise to replace them.”
But I don't think Jeff heard me, so I repeated the offer once we were all sitting around the dining room table (Jeff in his bare feet). Don was bringing in the dishes from the kitchen. Jeff was at one end of the table, with Amber to his left, and Cheryl was at the other end, with an empty space for Don to her right. The two kids were beside their dad, and Felix and I were squeezed in between Amber and Cheryl.
“Just order a new pair, and I'll pay for them,” I said.
“You couldn't possibly replace these,” Jeff said. “They're authentic crocodile leather. We bought them while we were in Milan. They cost over four thousand dollars. You couldn't afford them!”
That's when Cheryl dropped the bomb and told everyone that I had a new job as a private investigator. Jeff started laughing, and Amber, after hesitating, joined him.
“No, really,” said Cheryl, as she supervised Don's placement of the dishes on the table. “Put the Jell-O salad over by Geri and her friend.” She had forgotten his name. “It's not a joke.”
“I work for the Gerrard Agency,” I said, as we began passing the dishes around.
“I think I've heard that name before,” Jeff mused.
“How did you
ever
get hired?” Amber asked. There was a little too much emphasis on the word
ever
for me.
“The normal way,” I said. “I saw an ad. I answered it. I went for an interview. I got hired.” I wanted to add “not by being the daughter of the boss,” but I restrained myself.
“Mommy, I don't like that!” Danielle was staring down at her broccoli. My sister is not a good cook. She takes after my mother. At least the food was familiar. It was what we had every year for Easter dinnerâdeviled eggs, a sliced ham, scalloped potato casserole, broccoli, and a green Jell-O salad with chunks of pineapple and cottage cheese floating in it.
“Just eat one bite of everything,” Cheryl instructed. Don was feeding pieces of broccoli to D. J. who was strapped into a high chair to Don's right. Cheryl had overcooked it as usual. It was slimy and limp.
“The Gerrard Agency.” Jeff paused with his wineglass held high. He was twirling the stem in his fingers. An affectation I used to find charming. He's got a huge wine cellar and had brought several bottles as his contribution to the dinner. “Isn't that the guy who has an investment club?” Jeff directed that question at Don.
Don popped another piece of broccoli into D. J.'s open mouth and nodded. “I believe so.”
“Really?” I asked. It was hard to imagine Jimmy G. running an investment fund. “Are you sure we're talking about the same guy? Jimmy Gerrard.”
Jeff and Don looked at each other and shook their heads.
“No, never heard of Jimmy Gerrard. This guy's name is Stewart.”
“Oh, you're talking about Stewart Gerrard,” I said. “He's Jimmy G.'s brother.”
“Yes, that's right,” said Jeff. “I remember him now. We went to a presentation at his house.”
“Whatever happened to the investment club?” I asked.
“Oh, it just didn't smell right to me,” said Jeff. “I passed on it. Did you go in, Don?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, we did,” said Don, looking at my sister. “We're supposed to get our first dividends in June. According to the reports, the value of our investment has doubled.”
“That seems impossible in this economy,” said Jeff, with a frown.
“That's what we thought, but Stewart has a system. He buys high-yield securities in foreign currencies, and sells low-yield securities in U.S. dollars. Plus he takes out interest-free loans to protect the returns. It creates something he calls a mirror-image trading position.”
“Well,” said Jeff, shaking his head, “I'm sorry I passed on it.”
“Yes,” said Amber. Her voice was a little tight. “If you had invested, maybe we could afford to buy that vacation property in the San Juans.”
“But you have to agree,” Jeff said, with a chiding look at his fiancée, “that we already have everything we need right here. Family, friends, great wine, good food.”
D. J. made a weird noise. His eyes got big and suddenly, as if someone had turned on a water fountain, green liquid gushed from his mouth. It burbled out, down his little yellow polo shirt and into the lap of his brand new Gap Kids corduroy jeans.
The sight of her baby brother throwing up had a contagious effect on Danielle. She gagged but was old enough to know to put her hand in front of her mouth. Cheryl whisked her away from the table.
“No causal connection with Jeff's comment,” Felix whispered in my ear. I had to smile.
Jeff must have noticed and decided to take Felix down a notch. “So what do you do for a living?” he asked him.
“I'm an animal trainer,” Felix said. “These days I mostly work with dogs.”
There was silence, then Jeff said, “Well, you certainly can't claim any success with Geri's new pet.”
I expected Felix to protest that he hadn't had a chance to work with Pepe but he just remained silent. I remembered the training maxim he had taught me: Reward behavior you want to encourage. Ignore behavior you want to extinguish.
“What do you expect from a shelter dog?” Cheryl commented, as she came back into the room without Danielle. “No one wanted them. They're secondhand goods.”
“Like Geri's furniture,” said Jeff, with a smirk.
“And her clothes,” Amber added.
“Hey, that's not-â”
Felix put a warning hand on my leg, just under the table, and I stopped talking. Unfortunately, he withdrew it as soon as I did. Now what kind of reward system is that?
“How long have you two beenâ?” Amber asked the question but paused, hesitant about what word to use.
“She just picked him up in a parking lot so she'd have a date for Easter dinner,” Cheryl observed. She had had a few glasses of wine by then, and her words were a little slurred.
“Actually, Geri rescued me from certain attack by her protective pup,” Felix said, “and when I heard about the upcoming Easter dinner, I invited myself along. I really miss my family at Easter.”
That led to a discussion of how everyone celebrated Easter. Cheryl seemed happier with Felix when she learned he was Catholic. Turns out he had attended Mass earlier in the day, which is why he was so dressed up when he came to pick me up.
“Tell me about where you grew up,” said Felix, seeing he was making some inroads with Cheryl.
“Tekoa,” Cheryl said. “It's a tiny little town about fifty miles south of Spokane in eastern Washington. Population 826 in 2000.”
“And your parents? Do they still live there?”
There was an awkward silence. Don got up and began clearing plates.
“No,” I said, at last, wanting to break the spell. “They both died in a car accident when we were young.”
“Oh, I'm sorry!” Felix said. “That must have been very difficult for you. How did you manage?”
“Well, Cheryl was already attending school at the UW, so she brought me and my younger sister out to Seattle so she could take care of us.”
“You have a younger sister?”
“Yes, Theresa. My parents called us Sherry, Geri, and Terri. A cruel joke!” I tried to warn him not to go where he was going. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it but apparently that only encouraged him.
“And where is Terri now?” Felix asked.
“We don't know,” I said.
“Don't know?”
“She's been missing for ten years.”
Cheryl burst into noisy tears. “Go ahead and say it!” she said. “Say it's all my fault!”
“Cheryl, you know I don'tâ”
“Honey, no one blames youâ”
“That's what you all say but I know better,” said Cheryl and she stormed out of the room.