Leftovers: A Novel (24 page)

“
You’re Just In Love.
”

Without missing a beat he said, “Ethel Merman in
Call Me Madam.
Babs what should I do?”

She turned right again onto Main Street. “Obviously my advice isn’t helping.”

“You know what? I’m just going to tell her exactly how I feel.”

Babs smiled at him as Vivian saw their car approaching her as she walked along the sidewalk. Afraid of them stopping and tearing into her again, she held her giant wreath of colored oak leaves, jack-o-lanterns and twigs of bittersweet up in front of her face.

•  •  •

As soon as he got home, Stew pulled out of Babs’ driveway in his car, drove down River Road, took a left onto Clark and hit the gas pedal with a huge smile on his face. He knew this was the right thing to do.

He sped up the hill talking out loud to himself. “Viv, I have to tell you . . . ” He shook his head. “Vivian, I think you know . . . ugh . . . ”

He leaned forward trying to help his car get up the hill faster and then conscientiously glanced at his speedometer and slowed down a bit. “Viv, ever since we were kids . . . ”

As he struggled to figure out what to say, he reached the top of Clark Road. At the intersection he paused, looked to his left and could see Vivian placing the festive wreath over the large brass knocker on the front door.

Self-confident and ready, he put on his left blinker, looked both ways and just as he was about to pull out onto Osgood, an aqua and white two-tone Ford Fairlane cut him off. Stew couldn’t believe his bad luck and timing as he watched Paul speed into Vivian’s driveway, screeching his tires. Stew made the turn and pulled up along the shoulder of the road just out of their sight.

Vivian spun around when she heard the rubber tires squeal and her body stiffened up when she realized it was Paul. He got out of his car wearing his police uniform and swaggered up to Vivian’s front door. Stew was too far away to hear what they were saying but felt he was ready to save her if need be.

Vivian stood on the top step with her arms folded as they engaged in conversation. She then gestured for him to come inside. Paul shook his head no and appeared to be pleading about something. Vivian shook her head and opened her front door. He cautiously moved closer to Vivian and then slipped into the house quickly. She followed him in and shut the door.

Stew was stunned. He sat in his car for a few moments trying to figure out what had just transpired. The only conclusion he could come up with was that Vivian wanted him back. He shifted the car into forward, carelessly made a u-turn, after making sure no cars were in sight, and zoomed off hitting his fist on the steering wheel.

Inside Vivian’s house, Paul stood tentatively in her front foyer. Astounded, he looked first at the nude statue and then up the spiral staircase.

“Wow,” he said. “This is all yours?”

She stood in the living room staring at him. “No, I’m just a squatter.”

“Vivian, we could have talked about this outside.”

“I don’t want to give nosey gossipmongers in this town any more ammunition. They’re doing just fine on their own.”

“Well, I don’t want you throwing anything at me that could kill.”

“Don’t give me any ideas.” She picked up a glass candlestick from the fireplace mantel as he cowered, covering his face with his forearm. “Paul, what do you want?”

“I just want to talk to you sensibly, calmly.”

“About what? You got your goddamn divorce.”

“I just . . . I just want to have dinner with you.”

There was something in the tone of his voice, something that shifted in his body language and for a brief moment she saw the old Paul. The Paul she fell in love with, the kind and sweet version. Her hand still gripping the candlestick, she slowly lowered it to her side.

Paul continued. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot, lately.”

Thoughts and emotions started to swirl through her mind.
He’s come back on his knees? This is unreal. I hated what he did to me but . . . do I still hate him? I’m successful now but what’s the point if I have no one to share it with?

“Vivian, I want . . . ”

Intuitively, the fist with the candlestick rose up again and Paul stepped back fearing she would throw it.

“Dinner! Please, let’s do dinner. Tonight. DeQuatro’s.” He reached for the front door and opened it. “Please Vivian.” He stepped through the doorway. “Meet me there tonight. 8:00 P.M. You . . . won’t regret it.” He gave her a half-smile and then left, shutting the door behind him.

Vivian stood there dumbfounded.

•  •  •

Stew was so angry he couldn’t see straight. Instead going back to Babs’ he just kept driving. He was so out of it that he was shocked when he saw the pink neon lights blinking ahead.

Danny’s
Polynesian Restaurant
and
Tiki Lounge

That meant he had been driving south on Route 1 for at least 30 minutes without even knowing it. Stew swerved into their lot, parked the car and jumped out. He ran into Danny’s and headed straight for the lounge.

With the walls covered in grass mats, giant imitation Polynesian carved totems supporting a thatched ceiling and red leather banquettes embracing the room, this establishment was a tropical classic. People came from all over the North Shore to savor the flaming pu pu platters and took their chances with the Molten Mona. Riskily named after Danny’s mother-in-law and served in a ceramic mug in the shape of a bare-chested hula dancer, the libation included a lethal mix of light rum, dark rum, sloe gin, peppermint schnapps, coconut crème, pineapple juice and ginger ale. And the bonus was, anyone consuming more than five Molten Monas was offered a free taxi ride home.

But the main draw at this tiki lounge was the entertainment. In the center of the room was a raised circular platform covered with a thatched roof where an extraordinarily talented jazz quartet of Chinese musicians played their hearts out. It consisted of a sax, trumpet, bass violin and Danny leading them on the piano.

It was 4:15 P.M., happy hour had just started and there was a scattering of people seated throughout the room. The quartet was just finishing up a rendition of
Mister Sandman
as Stew paid the bartender for his Molten Mona and sat down at a table in front of Danny. Unlike most people, Stew drowned his sorrows in alcohol
and
show tunes.

“Mister Stew,” Danny said, leaning down to him. “You not look so good.”

“Ah, I don’t feel so good either.”

“You need a dose of medicine?”

“Not sure if it would help.”

Danny leaned into his microphone and addressed the patrons. “Mister Stew, everybody, you want to hear him sing?”

They all applauded as he pushed the giant umbrella, orange and pineapple slices to the side of his cocktail and took a big gulp of Mona. Stew reluctantly got to his feet, stepped up onto the platform with the musicians and whispered to Danny what he wanted to sing. He turned out to the audience as he adjusted the microphone and sang a very peppy rendition of
After You’ve Gone
.

“
After you’ve gone and left me cryin’, after you’ve gone there’s no denyin’, you’ll feel blue, you’ll feel sad, you’ll miss the bestest pal you ever had.”

The band shifted from a staccato beat to a slow and lazy one. He plucked the microphone from the stand, stepped down off of the platform and walked from table to table.

“
They’ll come a time, now don’t forget it, they’ll come a time when you’ll regret it. Oh baby, think what you’re doing . . . ”

Stew turned back to the band and brought his arm down fast and they picked up the tempo again as he stepped back up onto the platform for the big finish.

“
I’m gonna haunt you so, I’m gonna taunt you so, it’s gonna drive me to ruins. After you’ve gone, after you gone away.”

He was actually really good and the audience loved him.

Danny spoke up over the applause. “One more, will do one more?”

“Yes,” they all pleaded.

Stew looked out to the people. “We all loved Judy in
A Star Is Born
?”

The audience clapped.

“Hey, if Frank Sinatra can sing this, so can I.” Stew took a large slurp of his naked hula girl and then leaned against the piano. He looked out into the lounge as the trumpet started to wail. The quartet picked up on the sultry beat and Stew sang,
The Gal That Got Away.

He did a fantastic if not melodramatic rendition using staging and hand gestures that he could remember from the movie. And when he was done, the crowd wanted more but this was too much for him. Stew thanked the musicians, walked over to the bar heartbroken and sucked up the last of his girly drink. He signaled the bartender and asked if he could use the house phone and dialed a number.

Danny looked over at him, shook his head and whispered to the other musicians. “Mister Stew is hurting bad.”

Stew cleared his throat. “Ah . . . hello Gloria? Would you happen to be free for dinner tonight?”

•  •  •

That Saturday night DeQuatro’s was booked solid. Even the bar was stuffed with people smoking and drinking cocktails, patiently waiting for tables. The room echoed with conversation and laughter. Everyone seemed to be having a great time. Everyone except for one man seated in the middle of the dining room.

Paul signaled the waiter for another scotch on the rocks as every head in the joint turned to Vivian as she made her way back to his table from the ladies room. With her hair up in a French twist and wearing black high heels, she looked stunning in a beige knit wool dress cinched at the waist with a thick black belt.

Vivian caught the waiter’s eye and mimed writing, indicating she wanted the check.

Paul unsteadily got to his feet and tried to pull out her chair for her, but Vivian was quicker and sat herself down.

She lit a cigarette and studied him. Obviously there was an answer he was anxiously waiting for.

After a long pause, Vivian said without any emotion, “No.”

“You’re not even going to think about it?”

She looked at her wristwatch. “I did. I went to the bathroom for about five minutes.” Vivian took a sip of her martini. “Why would I marry you . . . again?”

“Because I love you and I want you back.”

She looked at him with a smirk. “It’s all about you, isn’t it?”

Paul downed what was left of his drink.

“Are you going to be able to drive?”

He leaned back in his chair and spread his legs. “Maybe you’ll have to take me home.”

“I don’t know where you live.”

“Then we’ll go back to your place.”

Paul was clearly beginning to slur as Vivian took another puff of her cigarette and blew it in his face. “What happened to Eleanor?”

“You tryin’ to change the subject?”

“Heard you were engaged.”

Paul leaned in and rested his elbows on the table. “Eleanor . . . called it off.” He grabbed Vivian’s hand. She instantly retracted but he wouldn’t let go. “Your commercials air all the time.” He shook is head as he looked at her. “I just can’t get over your transformation.”

“And have you changed?”

The waiter arrived with Paul’s drink and Vivian was able to free her hand. He placed the leather check holder on the table as she looked up at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Lawson.”

As the waiter left Paul took a large gulp of his drink. “You’re back to Lawson?”

She gave him a sarcastic look.

He stared hard at her. “Damn you look good. Sure you won’t marry me?”

“Very sure.” She opened the folder and looked at the bill.

“Last warning. Don’t force me to do this.”

Vivian laughed at him as she opened her purse and took out her wallet. “Do what?”

He paused. “I’m moving away.”

“And that’s a bad thing? Where to?”

“The city.”

She slipped cash into the folder and closed it. Paul never even made an attempt to offer to pay. “And what will you do?”

“I’m never gonna make captain. Wanna open my own private detective agency.”

Vivian ground her cigarette out into the ashtray. “Makes sense. You know how a cheating man thinks.”

He paused and then leaned in closer to her. “So, I want half.”

“Half of what?”

“Half of what you got.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I wasted the best years of my life with you.” Vivian started to get up out of her chair but he grabbed her forearm and wrestled her back into her seat. “You don’t want to make a scene, do you?”

“Why in God’s name do you think I’d ever give you a single penny of my hard earned money?”

“Because if you don’t, a certain Brownie Wise is going to find out that the fresh face of Tupperware isn’t so innocent after all.”

“What are you talking about?”

Paul slipped his hand inside of his suit jacket. Vivian drew back not knowing what he was doing. He took out an envelope and threw it on the table.