Arizona Allspice (22 page)

I frown. Why are all my thoughts circling back to Joey? “I should go find another exhibit to look at,” I think aloud. This is supposed to be a well needed break from worrying about Joey and Manny and Dad. Uncle Frank and I discuss a few of the black-and-white photos at the Richard Avedon exhibit and move on to the Dale
Chihuly
display.  

Dale
Chihuly’s
beautiful multicolored glass sculptures inspired by sea forms are located in a dark room so that the light sources within each bowl glow supernaturally. It’s like being at the bottom of the ocean where sunlight doesn’t reach and observing iridescent ocean life. Even more breathtaking is the hall with the
Chihuly
blown glass ceiling. Rippling blue, yellow, red and green sculptures suspended in clear glass form a rectangular light fixture that creates the ceiling of the hallway.  The white light behind it is transformed into a soft kaleidoscope splash of color against the walls. Even Uncle Frank has to admit the art piece is amazing. All he can utter is “Wow.” After walking through some other exhibits, we go to the museum’s courtyard. Outside stands a beautiful lighted fountain with streams of water that fall from the top and almost soundlessly into the pool below. As we sit outside admiring the scenery I sniffle and give him a smile. He pats me on the hand. “You’re welcome,” he says.

Uncle Frank spoiled me terribly this afternoon. He bought me a poster in the museum gift shop and then we went to Barrio Café for lunch. We both ordered the mango and shrimp
ensalada
and chicken quesadillas and he let me have a taste of his margarita. Next we drove to the Biltmore Fashion Park. We strolled through the mall window shopping until we came upon a Tommy
Bahama
store and Uncle Frank couldn’t resist going in and looking around.  Rack after rack of Hawaiian shirts called to him. He bought a few things there and we continued window shopping until I came to Saks Fifth Avenue where a mannequin in the front window was wearing a black velvet equestrian style vest. I dragged Uncle Frank into the store with me and asked about the vest. Unfortunately, the only one they had left was the one on the mannequin and it was too small for me. Then a divine pair of boots caught my eye.

They weren’t like my usual beat up steel-toed throwbacks. These boots were foxy, mid-calf, Italian made boots formed of smooth black leather and with a three inch heel. They had no zipper so they were completely seamless. The toe was perfectly round and the leather had a perfect sheen to it. I slipped them onto my feet and stood up to walk towards the full length mirror on the wall.  With one step in those boots I felt myself stand straighter and hold my chin up higher. I looked at myself in those boots in the mirror and actually giggled. I spun around and did some salsa moves and thought to myself that this was what the pretty girls feel like.  I sat down beside Uncle Frank on the bench in the shoe department, pulled one boot off and nestled it into the tissue paper in its box. Morosely, I pulled off the other boot, studied it, rubbed away a smudge with my thumb, glanced at the amount on the price tag and huffed, and set it beside its twin in the blue paper-lined box. “Bye
bye
,” I said in a small voice and place the lid on the box.

 “After watching this entire love affair: the first glance, the courtship, the first dance, the first ‘I love you’ and the tearful farewells,” he placed a hand over his heart, “I truly understand the shoe addiction of the female species.”

“Who are you calling a species?”

“By the way, those shoes are yours.”

“Yup.
It’s like they made them just for me. And they can actually be mine for a small onetime fee of only two hundred and ninety-five dollars of hard earned money.” I stood up to give the shoes back to the sales clerk.

“Laney, they’re yours. You’re getting them.”

“You’ve spoiled me enough today,
Unc
. I don’t need these overpriced boots.”

“Elaine,” he said sternly. My stomach jumped like I was ten-years-old again and caught sneaking extra chocolate cake. “I am buying them for you. You deserve to have good things.” He snatched the box from my hands and walked towards the register. “Think of it as an early Hanukkah gift,” he called back. The lady behind the counter looked at me confused, trying to piece together my nonexistent Jewish heritage. For the record, Uncle Frank isn’t Jewish either. He just enjoys embarrassing me. I sat down on a comfortable loveseat for exhausted husbands outside a women’s fitting room. When would I ever wear those shoes? They’d stay in the box on a shelf in my closet unless I forced myself to journey outside of my comfort zone. My clothing used to be a statement. It had become a joyless security blanket. I think Uncle Frank was encouraging me to experience new things.

“Here you go. I think it’s time for us to head home. I’m too old for the night life.”

I took the bag from his hand and hugged him around the shoulder.   

We arrive at the house around eight o’clock.

“Want to watch a movie or something?” Uncle Frank offers as he sits down on the couch.

“Nah, I’m sure you’re sick of me by now.”

“As long as we’re on the same page…” he turns on the television with the clicker.

“Hey!” I laugh.

“Do you want me to cook up a little something for dinner?”

“No. I’m not hungry. You fed me well and I need to do some writing.”

“
Okey
dokey
.
Good night.” He flips through the channels.

“Good night.” I traipse into my bedroom, put the bag with my boots in my closet and tape my art poster on my wall. I take my journal out of a drawer in my night table, in the spirit to write. I want to go to the hospital to be by Joey’s side, but I have a surge of ideas coming to the surface. Going out to the Valley reminded me about life outside of town and inspired my own creativity. The door to possibilities has cracked open and words are flowing out like an undammed river.

The phone rings and I wiggle my cramped fingers before I pick up the cordless handset. The display screen reads 8:47 PM. I haven’t lifted my pen up from the paper in over half an hour.  

“Hey Manny.”
I answer smiling.

“I guess I don’t have to ask how you’re doing. You sound like you’re fine and dandy.”

“Yeah.
I’m feeling good today.”

“Wish I could say the same,” he sighs and I immediately bring my giddiness down a few notches. “You sound good. Did you spend some quality time with Uncle Frank?”

“Yeah.
We had fun.”

“Hmm.
What did you two do?”

I don’t want to depress him by recounting what a cool day I’ve experienced. “Um, we went out for lunch and stuff.”

“You’re a horrible liar, by the way. Tell me what you really did.”

“No, it’s not important.”

“Come on! I want to be part of the fun too,” he chuckles.

“It’s not going to be fun to hear a retelling of something you missed out on.”

“Laney, I’m telling you I won’t be mad. Do you think I’m going to be jealous of you or something?” He sounds offended.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then why do you need to hide it from me? You’re making me feel like you don’t trust your own damn brother.”

His sudden attitude annoys me. I start pacing the floor of my bedroom. “Now you know how I feel,” I retort.

“Sure,” he laughs bitterly. “You’re the one who won’t even tell me something as simple as how you spent the day with our uncle. But me, the one who is protecting you from information I’m not even one hundred percent sure of, I’m the evil one?”

“If you would just
tell
me these supposedly earth-shattering secrets there wouldn’t be any trust issues and we could stop butting heads all the time arguing about things that aren’t even the real issue! Stop being such a jackass!”

“Fine!
You want to know about me” He quickly holds his tongue from finishing the statement. “Let me…let me talk to Uncle Frank for a minute. Give him the phone. Please.”

“I can’t believe you! You’re really just going to brush me off?”

“I want to talk to my uncle and I would like you to cool down before you or I say something we’ll regret.”

 “I’m so tired of all these secrets! Am I that pathetic that everyone is afraid to tell me anything of consequence?” Warm tears trickle down my face.

“No, Laney. Don’t think that.” His voice is thick with guilt.

“I hate this!” I bawl. “I might as well be alone. Either I cause someone pain or I can’t do anything to shield them from it. Everyone around me gets hurt. And it hurts.” I clutch the phone tight in my hand and hide my wet face in the crook of my arm trying not to hyperventilate. The actual physical pain I’m feeling inside makes me panic.

“Laney, I’m here. I’m here.”

“No. You’re not,” I cry.

“I wish I was. I’m sorry. You are not pathetic and you are not a problem, Laney.”

His words are chamomile oil to my wracked stomach, even though I don’t really believe all of it. We sit on the phone in relative quiet, the only sound an occasional sniffle on my end.

“Do you trust me?”

I sniffle and nod. Realizing he can’t see me I then say, “Uh huh.”

“Then trust that when all the planets align with the star that you are, I will tell you my secrets and they won’t even faze you. Okay,
Starshine
?” I hear the smile in his voice and know his corniness means he doesn’t hate me. The phone beeps. It’s Miss Kinsley calling.

“Manny, Miss Kinsley is calling on the other line. It must be important.”

“My line just beeped too. I only have a few minutes left. I’ll go ahead and let you go. Call me tomorrow and let me know what’s going on and if Joey’s good,” he says nervously.

“Just wait on the line and I’ll tell you what she says.” I take a deep breath and switch lines.

“Hello?”

“Elaine?” she asks and I can tell she’s been crying, too. My heart drops.

“Yes, Miss Kinsley?”

“The doctor wants to wake Joey up tonight! He says the swelling is gone now. They’ll take him off the medicine and my baby will wake up!” she says tearfully.

“That’s such great news. I need to tell my brother. He’s on the other line. Wait one second.”

“Okay.”

“Hello
?...
Hello? Manny
?...
” The line is dead.  I smack my fist on the bed frustrated. I don’t want Manny to go back to his cell thinking Joey took a turn for the worst.

“Elaine?” Manny answers.