Polkacide (5 page)

I stayed in bed another minute, and
the pounding continued. Finally, I threw aside the pillow and
jerked to a sitting position.

I sat there a moment,
wobbling in place, barely awake. My head felt like it was stuffed
with wool, the gears of my brain unable to turn.

"Come on, Lottie," said the
man at the door. "We've got things to do, places to be, people to
see."

Only then did I realize it was Eddie
Kubiak Jr. My old boyfriend was pounding on the door of my room,
waking me from a much-needed sleep at six-thirty in the freaking
morning.

"Yep," I said to myself. "It's a
nightmare, all right."

Boom boom boom.
"Open up, Lottie!"

Sliding off the bed, I stood
and looked in the mirror above the dresser. The word "Sasquatch"
came to mind.

My dress was wrinkled beyond
belief and twisted so the neckline pointed left instead of down the
middle. The coil of hair once wrapped around my head had come
halfway undone; strands hung over my face and stuck out in every
direction. Mascara, rouge, and eye shadow were smeared all over my
face as it were an artist's sloppy palette blobbed with multiple
colors of paint. My eyes had bags under them the size of dim sum
dumplings.

Nowhere in the world would I
have been considered remotely presentable. I had no intention of
setting foot outside that door in full view of Eddie Kubiak,
Jr.

"Lottie! Lot!"
Boom boom boom boom.
He
was relentless.

But I wasn't the only one he was
ticking off. "Hey! Shut the hell up over there!" The voice through
the paper-thin wall was that of a guy who was seriously
irate.

"Open up, Lot!" said Eddie.
"It's time for work!"

"How 'bout I come out there
and work
you
over?" The guy in the room next door bellowed the words this
time. "I
guarantee
that'll shut you up!"

It seemed like Eddie finally
got the message, because he stopped pounding. When he spoke again,
his voice was nowhere near as loud. "Lot?"

To end the commotion, I
walked to the door and cracked it without unhooking the safety
chain. "What are you
talking
about, it's time for work?" I peered out from the
shadows into painfully bright sunlight that made me squint. "For
one thing, it's
Sunday.
For another thing, I'm not
working
in this town."

"Sure you are." Eddie had a
goofy grin on his thin, oval face. The thin line of his
meticulously trimmed sideburns-mustache-goatee combo--let's call it
his
sidemusgoat
--curled up with the grin, revealing dimples and rows of
gleaming white teeth. "Don't you remember the
wake
yesterday? Sure sounded
to
me
like you got
hired."

The events of the day before
rushed back and slammed into me like a brick wall on wheels. "You
mean Peg and me? That whole thing?"

"Congratulations on your new
job." Eddie extended a hand but didn't slide it between the door
and the jamb. Smart man. "But being late is no way to get off on
the right foot."

I almost slammed the door in
his face. No kidding. But I was afraid he'd keep after me and set
off the guy next door. "I'm not late for anything,
Eddie."

"Peg starts the day at 6AM."
Eddie nodded briskly. I was having a hard time telling if he was
trying on purpose to irritate me. "She's been waiting for you for a
half hour now."

"Okay." I planted my hands
on my hips and glared out at him. "You need to go away
right now.
Because you
won't like what happens if I come out and you're still
there."

"So you don't want your
share of your dad's business?" Eddie cocked his head to one side.
It was then I realized he was enjoying this to some extent. "You'll
let those Polish orphans have everything?"

I blew out my breath in
frustration. I wasn't a morning person to begin with, and that
morning I was feeling especially out of it. My first instinct was
to light up a cigarette and get my bearings...but since that wasn't
an option, I needed strong coffee before I could deal with Eddie's
nonsense. "Go away, Eddie."

"Can't do that." Eddie shook his head.
"If I go back without you, I'll get my butt chewed."

Suddenly, some of the things
he'd been saying penetrated my bleary brain. "Wait. Are you
working
for
her?"

"I work for Polish Lou
Enterprises," said Eddie. "So technically, I'm now working for
Peg
and
you.
If
you
don't bail out and force the attorneys to send the money to the
orphanages, that is."

I frowned as I tried to wrap
my brain around what he'd said. "Do you mean to tell me
you're
working for my
dad's company?" I cracked the door a little wider to get a better
look at him. "How did
that
happen?
Your
dad is
my
dad's biggest
rival.
"

Eddie shrugged. "I came back
to town, Lot. I needed a job, and Lou offered me one."

Came back? "You left town?"
I'd assumed he'd been here since I'd been away. Eddie Jr. had
always been kind of a hometown boy.

"Well, sure, Lot." Eddie's
expression darkened. "But things didn't work out the way I'd
thought they would."

For the first time in
forever, I actually found myself identifying with Eddie Kubiak, Jr.
I knew
exactly
how
it was when things didn't work out as expected. "How long have you
been back?"

"Eight months." Eddie
smiled, but I thought it looked forced. "Your dad really helped me
out. He made it so I didn't have to go crawling back to my old
man."

I frowned. I'd always thought Eddie
Jr. had gotten along fine with Eddie Sr.

"But now it's back to square
one, kinda." Eddie scratched the back of his head and looked
sheepish. "I'm not sure if the new bosses will keep me on. Don't
know how it'll work out with you and Peg."

As irritated as I'd been when he'd
woken me up, I found myself feeling sympathetic. "I don't think you
have anything to worry about." I even managed a reassuring
smile.

"I, uh..." Eddie scuffed his
feet on the sidewalk. "It's not
you
I'm most
worried
about, Lot."

"Ohhh." I nodded. Things
were starting to come together. "But you've been working with Peg
for eight months now, right? You ought to know her pretty well by
now."

Eddie cleared his throat.
"Exactly." He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows in a look
that spoke volumes.

And made my heart sink like
an anchor. "Not really a ringing endorsement of Polish Peg there,
Eddie."

"Let's just say I
have...concerns." Eddie sniffed. "Concerns about working
for
her instead of
with
her."

"You're not exactly talking me into
this." I brushed back stray tangles of hair that had fallen into my
eyes. "You know I haven't made up my mind yet, right?"

"Actually, that's why I'm here," said
Eddie. "To try to talk you into it." He shrugged and came up with a
boyish grin. "I lied about being under orders."

I planted my fists on my
hips and glared. "So Peg didn't put you up to this? She didn't send
you over here after all?"

Eddie shook his head. "I
need an ally, Lot." He met my gaze. "I need this job."

I held his gaze a moment, and memories
of our times together rushed through me. I remembered one day in
particular when we went tubing on the Vista River, and I flipped
over in the strong current, and he pulled me out. I remembered
kissing him gratefully, our lips wet with river water, his brown
eyes sparkling in the sun.

It seemed like it had
happened only yesterday...and yet, so very long ago. Whatever had
happened since, it had changed him, added layers I couldn't quite
piece together. But he was still the same guy, deep down, I'd once
loved. That counted for something in my book.

In his book, too. I'd bet on
it. If our positions were reversed, I knew exactly what he'd say
about all this.

"I'll do it." As the words
left my lips, I knew I was doing the right thing. I had my doubts
about how it would work out, but I owed it to Eddie to give it a
try. Owed it to my family, too, and Luke. I couldn't let Dad's
legacy slip away when it meant so much to so many
people.

"Really?" Eddie looked at me
expectantly, and I nodded. "So we can get going?"

I shook my head. "Come back
in an hour. Make it an hour and a half. I need to get
ready."

Eddie grinned and waved off
my demand. "Ah, I'm sure you look great, Lot."

"An hour and a half or I'm
out." I started easing the door shut. "Take it or leave it,
Eddie."

"All right, all right."
Eddie raised his hands in surrender. "Just remember I
warned
you. Peg likes to
get an early start. The later you show up, the more she gets a leg
up on you."

"She's been with my father's
company for the past thirteen years," I said. "I don't think she
could
get
a bigger
leg up on me."

And with that, I shut the
door on Eddie and headed straight for the coffee pot on the
kitchenette counter.

Chapter 8

An hour and forty-five
minutes later, Eddie and I pulled up to the curb in front of what
had once been Saint Casimir Church's activities hall. It was "Polka
Central" now, according to the brightly colored sign mounted above
the front door.

To me, that translated as
"Pure Hell." Have I mentioned I can't stand polka?

"Here we are." Eddie
gestured at the blocky old red brick building. Morning sunlight
glinted off the stained glass rose window set under the front peak
of the roof. "Welcome to the offices of Polish Lou Enterprises.
Also the studios of the
Kocham
Taniec
radio show. A live broadcast is in
progress as we speak." With that, he turned off the engine of his
'95 silver Ford pickup. When the engine noise cut off, the sound of
music swelled to replace it.

And I instantly wanted to be
elsewhere. I'd had enough polka music at Dad's wake the day before
to last me another fifteen years...but there it was
again.

The sounds of a fast-paced polka
number blared from the open double doors on the front of the
building. Inside, I could see people spinning and dancing across
the floor in time with the music.

"Take me back to the motel."
I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. "I feel a headache coming
on. A
nasty
one."

"Hey now." Eddie patted my
shoulder. "I've got your back, remember? We'll get through this
together."

"I can't deal with
more
polka
,
Eddie." I groaned and slumped in my seat. "It's
killing
me."

"You better stop that kind
of talk if you want to run with Polish Peg," said Eddie. "Anyway,
I'm a polka musician, in case you hadn't noticed.
You
used to be one,
too."

Suddenly, I remembered one
of the things I hated about being around people who knew me back in
the day: they're more likely to bring up things I'd rather
forget.

Back in L.A., I could
complain about polka as much I liked without feeling hypocritical.
But good ol' Eddie had to bring up the fact that I'd once played
the accordion in Dad's band, Polish Fly.

And I'd been
damned good
at
it.

"I'd rather not discuss
that." Flipping down the visor, I checked myself in the mirror. I
was much improved since the shower and fresh makeup, but the
circles under my eyes had yet to fade. The concealer I'd applied
just wasn't doing its job. At least the white button-down blouse
I'd put on looked fresh.

"Why not discuss it?" said
Eddie. "You kicked ass, Lot. You were so much better than me, I
was
jealous
. No
foolin'."

"That was a long time ago." I tucked a
few stray strands of black hair behind my ears. I was glad I'd
taken the time to wash and braid it, restoring order to the
meltdown of yesterday's once elegant coiled up-do.

"I bet you've still got it." Eddie
grinned and nodded. "Once a button-boxer, always a
button-boxer."

"Not me." I turned my head
left, then right for a last check in the mirror. Satisfied, I
snapped the visor back up against the ceiling. "I'm more a hip hop
girl these days."

"Oh yeah?" Eddie drummed a little
rhythm on the top of the steering wheel. "Fifty bucks says you've
still got it."