Tony Partly Cloudy (17 page)

“You’re right,” Tony said. “And I’m glad it was you.”

With that, Tony stood, brushing his hands together as if preparing for some manual labor. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go get Felicia set up. Which means I gotta try to find a three-letter word that means barometer.”

♠ ♥ ♣ ♦

To her credit, Felicia did a passable job of presenting the weather. She stumbled a bit when trying to remember which symbols on the map stood for high pressure zones and low pressure zones, getting them backwards once, but quickly recovering. And her segment timed out perfectly, Tony noticed. It was his first time paying attention to that aspect of the forecast, and he watched with newfound appreciation as she brought her segment to a close with one second to spare, a highly valued skill in a business where dead air was the enemy.

Wanting to give credit where it was due, Tony made a point of approaching her when the broadcast was over. Felicia was gathering her notes and unplugging her clip-on microphone when Tony mounted the set, offering her a handshake.

“You did a terrific job, Felicia. Very nice.”

Felicia seemed genuinely surprised by the compliment, or perhaps by the man who was giving it.

“Really?” she asked, smiling eagerly. “Thanks, Tony! I know I blew the high pressure/low pressure thing, but—”

“It’s an easy mistake to make,” Tony assured her. “And you made a nice save. And the timing – that was perfect. I don’t know how you do that.”

Felicia’s smile broadened. “Aw, that’s just from practicing with a stopwatch. They pound that into you at school.”

“Well, you nailed it,” Tony said. “I hope the notes I made for you made sense and all.”

Felicia shrugged. “Mostly, yeah. But this stuff gets really complex – I don’t know how you figure all this out, or remember all those terms.”

Now it was Tony’s turn to say, “Well, they pound that into you at school, too. I guess it depends on what you’re studying, you know?”

“I guess so,” Felicia said, giggling.

At this point, Sarah Jakes walked past the set. Unaware of Chip’s absence, she was surprised to see Felicia apparently straightening up after a broadcast from the studio’s meteorology set, with no sign of Chip or the other weather anchors. She was further surprised to see the way Felicia was lingering, talking to Tony, with body language that suggested she was enjoying his company.

Sarah shook her head. Well, why not? Tony was a nice guy. He was funny and sweet, and actually pretty good looking, for such a big hulking guy. And once you got used to it, that Goodfellas way of talking he had was downright adorable. In short, a girl could do a lot worse. She should know. But she didn’t want to think about that right now. That situation would work itself out.

Walking past the weather set, Sarah busied herself unpacking her laptop, and labeling some video tapes she had shot earlier with Darby. From where she was, she could overhear Tony and Felicia.

“So where did you go to school?” Felicia was asking.

“Kean University. It’s in Jersey. You probably never heard of it, but they got a good meteorology department.”

“So you’ve got a degree in this stuff? In meteorology? I thought only Chip had done that.”

“No, actually we all have. Chip, Ron, and me – we all have regular 4-year degrees in it. And Deena has a 2-year degree or certificate or something, in broadcast meteorology. That’s where you study the weather specifically for doing TV forecasts.”

“Well, where else do weathermen – or weather
people
, I guess I should say – where else do they work?”

“Oh, lots of places. There’s lots of government work, military work, stuff like that. I was with the National Weather Service before I came here.”

“You were? Wow, I had no idea. I mean, I see Chip and the others do their forecasts, but I didn’t realize how much of a background in this stuff you had.”

“It’s no big deal,” Tony said, embarrassed by Felicia’s gushing. “I’ve just always been into the weather. It’s like a puzzle, you know? You look at everything that’s happening in the atmosphere, and you try to figure out what it’s going to look like when you put all the pieces together.”

“I never thought of it like that,” Felicia said, turning to look at the board behind them, where the evening’s computer-projected diagrams still appeared.

“Yeah, it’s great stuff,” Tony said, walking toward the board. “Like here, for instance. You got this arrow thingie here, right? That’s what you call a low pressure center. That means the air in that area is rising, and the air around it is gonna be moving counterclockwise. Now over here on the east side of that center, you got a warm front. Sounds nice, am I right? But actually it can be a real pain in the ass, ‘cause what it does is it rises up over the colder air, and bada bing, condensation, bada boom, you got rain. Sometimes days and days of freakin’ rain.”

Tony went on, gesturing excitedly at the board as he spoke. “But where it really gets nuts is when you got one weather system over
here
trying to do its thing, and along comes another weather system over
there
that’s got a whole different agenda. Now you gotta try and figure out how fast each of them is moving, and then try to predict what’s gonna happen when the two of them start duking it out.” Tony threw a few shadowboxing punches, then continued.

“Sometimes it seems pretty obvious, but other times it’s a freakin’ crapshoot. And the weather don’t like it when you get cocky about predicting this stuff. She’s always ready to mix things up on you, if she thinks you’re getting too comfortable.”

Felicia giggled. “So the weather is female? You’re calling it
she
– is that like Mother Nature?”

Tony laughed. “Well, I hadn’t thought of it like that. I mean, Mother Nature also handles stuff like earthquakes and volcanoes. I’m just talking about the weather. But yeah, I think of her as female, because... because she’s very powerful, and very unpredictable.”

Sarah couldn’t help smiling as she overheard that. Felicia apparently liked that one, too – Sarah heard her giggle again.

“That’s a cool way to think of it,” Felicia said. “Like it’s alive.”

“Oh, she’s definitely alive,” Tony said. “My Nona Maria – that’s my grandmother – she had another way to describe the weather. She said her mama told her that the wind didn’t move the trees. She said it was the other way around. She said that the wind was how trees and plants talked to each other. That instead of the wind blowing the trees around, it was the leaves and branches on the tree moving around that created the wind. Sometimes when I was a kid, I’d look up and watch the leaves on the trees moving back and forth, and hear that rustling sound, and that idea would almost make sense.”

“That’s actually kind of beautiful,” Felicia said.

Sarah cringed. This was a perfect opening for Tony to say something like
and so are you
to Felicia. And he wouldn’t be wrong – Felicia was a knockout, with great waves of blonde hair and a stunning figure. And a fairly nice person, if not the sharpest woman Sarah had met. So why did she hope Tony wouldn’t take the bait? And why the hell was she eavesdropping?

Tony said, “Yeah, Nona Maria had some great stories. She’s part Gypsy – or at least she claims to be. Whatever she is, she’s a character.”

“Where does she live?” Felicia asked.

“In Brooklyn, with my parents. She’s getting up there, but you know what? She’s looked the same as long as I’ve known her. She never changes. She’ll probably outlive us all.”

“She sounds great,” Felicia said. “I miss my family. Do you get to see yours very often?”

Tony shook his head. “Not nearly as much as I’d like. My mama, she don’t fly, and Nona’s too old for long trips, so I only see them if I go home. My pop came to see me once in Key West, but it was too weird for him.” Tony chuckled. “I don’t know if you’ve ever been there, but it
is
pretty freakin’ weird.”

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, it can get kinda fruity down there, if you know what I mean. But I’m hoping he’ll come visit me here. He’s always making fun of the Midwest, so I’m looking forward to showing him that we
do
have electricity and running water.” This got a laugh out of Felicia, while Sarah stifled one of her own.

Felicia said, “So, do you get home much?”

“I try to go at least once a year. Last time I went was last winter, right before Christmas.”

“Was that why you weren’t at the Christmas party last year?”

“Yeah,” Tony said. “I didn’t think anybody would notice. Plus it was great to see my family.”

“I’ll bet. You probably had more fun than I did. My date turned out to be a real jerk.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, well, he’s out of the picture now,” Felicia said.

Wow, Sarah thought. She keeps serving up these openings, on a silver platter. How the hell can this keep going over Tony’s head?

“Well, that’s good, I guess,” Tony said. “I mean, life’s too short to hang around with jerks, am I right?”

Thinking about her own love life, Sarah silently agreed.

So did Felicia apparently. She said, “That’s the truth. Now I try to only go out with nice guys. But there seems to be a shortage.”

“Yeah, that’s what I keep hearing. In New York they say all the good ones are either married or gay.”

“It’s starting to get that way all over, not just in New York.”

“Yeah, it’s funny, isn’t it? It seems like it just shouldn’t be as hard as it is for two people to get together. But hey, what are you gonna do, am I right? Listen, I gotta get out of here. But I just wanted to make sure I told you what a great job you did.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Felicia said. “Hey, do you ever go to that Pickle place?”

Tony, Sarah thought, you will die single if you don’t start learning to recognize hints.

“Yeah,” said Tony, oblivious to the end. “Me and Josh sometimes hang out there.” He began to walk away.

“Well then, maybe I’ll see you there sometime...” was Felicia’s final shot at her seemingly impenetrable target.

“Yeah, that would be fun,” Tony said. “Hope I see you there sometime.” With that he walked off the set, briefcase in hand.

Sarah was just close enough to the set to hear Felicia mutter, “You could have seen me there
tonight
if you could take a damn hint.”

Sarah choked back a giggle, and finished her busywork. She knew she shouldn’t be so relieved that Tony hadn’t taken the bait. That didn’t change the fact that she was.

“DUDE! OPEN UP!”

Tony heard Josh’s muffled voice outside his door, nearly obscured by the sound of Josh’s pounding fist. Josh kept knocking on the door even as Tony opened it, stopping only when Tony wrapped a massive hand around Josh’s skinny wrist.

“I heard you,” Tony said. “Jeez, enough with the knocking already.”

Josh shook free of Tony’s grasp, and brushed past him, craning for a view of the TV in Tony’s living room.

“What the hell?” Josh demanded, staring in disbelief at the darkened screen. “Why isn’t the game on?”

Before Tony could reply, another voice interrupted.

“Huh huh huh! Ho ho ho! Me me me me meeeeeee! Now you try it. And remember,
embrace
the sound, but don’t
judge
the sound.”

Josh gaped at the boom box on Tony’s kitchen counter, listening as an ebullient female voice continued.

“Now, hold your belly, and bounce up and down on the balls of your feet, making the ooh sound we just worked on. OooooOOOOOooohhhhhh—”

Tony slapped frantically at the boom box, finally managing to shut it off.

Josh stood frozen, his look one of confusion mixed with horror.

“Do you mind telling me what the hell was
that
?”

Flustered, Tony grabbed the beer he had been drinking, and took a swig while he tried to formulate a response.

Josh went on. “I mean, is that some weird tape-recorded phone sex thing or something?” Then he snapped his finger and pointed at Tony, his eyes wild. “Oh my God – is this some kind of therapy tape to prepare you, like, for a sex change? Are you...
a woman trapped in the body of a man
?”

Tony sprayed beer halfway across the room. He coughed and choked, trying to recover while a dazed and now beer-drenched Josh paced in front of him, shaking his head.

“Dude, this is mind-blowing shit.”

Tony finally regained his voice. “No, you asshole,” he sputtered, “it’s nothing like that!” He coughed again. “Jeez, it’s more like you’re a moron trapped in the body of an idiot.”

While Josh mulled over that comment, Tony tried to explain.

“It’s just this set of tapes I ordered, to try to help me change the way I talk. It’s got me doing all these weird vocal exercises that are supposed to help me project my voice better, and make this accent I got less, you know,
pronounced
or whatever.”

Josh looked skeptical. “Vocal exercises? What the hell for?”

Tony looked away. “You’re gonna laugh.”

“Dude, I’m more likely to scream. You are seriously freaking me out here.”

Tony said, “I’m trying to get my act together. You know, to improve how I talk, so that I can maybe try to do some on-air stuff. You know, like a weather anchor.”

Josh did laugh. Long and hard. “Dude, is that what this is all about?”

“Yeah,” Tony said. “Now what’s so freakin’ funny about that?”

Josh was once again reminded of the hundred pounds Tony had on him, and stopped laughing.

“I don’t know, man. I mean, we talked about this before. You’re kind of, well, different from most guys around here. And definitely different from how news anchors usually look and talk.”

Tony loomed over Josh. “You mean, I’m too much of a Mafia goon?”

“C’mon, man – lighten up! I mean, yeah, you do have kind of a Sopranos vibe, but hey, that’s just where you’re from.”

“I know,” Tony said, “and I’m trying to change that.”

Josh saw the seriousness in Tony’s eyes, and softened his tone. “So what’s the deal – they’ve got some kind of tapes for this stuff? How does that work?”

Tony went to the refrigerator, to grab a couple more beers. “Well, they got people that actually train you in this stuff, but the nearest one is in Chicago. So I sent away for these tapes – I figured it was the next best thing.”

Tony pointed at the boom box. “But I gotta tell you, most of this stuff seems pretty weird. I don’t really see how some of this could help.”

Josh lunged for the beer Tony offered him. “Like what kind of stuff? That
me me me
stuff sounded like Mickey Mouse!”

“I know!” Tony said. “Some of this just seems ridiculous. But it’s supposed to...” Tony reached for the pamphlet that came with the tapes... “stimulate the articulators, and strengthen the soft palate.”

“Shit, that sounds downright painful,” Josh said, grabbing the pamphlet from Tony.

Skimming through it, Josh said, “Ooh – your goal on exercise four is to
attain full cavity resonance
!” Smirking at Tony, he said, “So, how’s your cavity? Is it full of resonance?”

Tony snatched the pamphlet back. “Gimme a break. Otherwise I’ll ram that beer into your cavity and see how
you
resonate.”

Josh drew back in mock terror. “Strong words from a guy with such a soft... palate!”

Tony shoved past him. “Come on,” he said, “we’re missing the game.”

The beers flowed, and the Bears sucked.

At halftime, Josh said, “Dude, let’s see some more of your exercises. But none of that cavity stuff, please.”

Feeling more relaxed now, Tony stood up, muting the TV with his remote.

“Okay, here’s one I really don’t get. You’re supposed to stand with your hands on your hips, rotating your hips like some kind of hula dancer, going
ho ho ho
!”

Tony demonstrated, provoking howls of laughter from Josh.

“Dude, you look like some goombah Santa Claus!”

Tony was laughing now, too. “I know, I know! And I spent money on this! Okay, now the tongue twisters. Try saying this:
literally literary
.”

“Little rare... literarily... shit, man, this is not easy stuff after a few beers.”

Tony nodded. “Tell me about it. It ain’t easy sober, either. Try this:
girl gargoyle, guy gargoyle
.”

Josh butchered that one even worse.

“One more,” Tony insisted. “
A million valuable medallions
.”

Josh said, “A Milli Vanilli Vidalia.”

“Perfect!” Tony said, spraying more beer. “Wait – I know what the problem is. You didn’t do your tongue exercises. Stand up.” Flipping through the pamphlet, he read, “Stick your tongue out and rotate it like the hand of a clock.”

While the Western Illinois University Marching Leathernecks scampered silently across Tony’s TV screen, two grown men stood and watched, wagging their tongues like small pink propellers until they both collapsed in laughter.

When Josh regained his breath, he said, “You know, that last one might come in handy if I can ever get a goddamn date.”

Tony laughed. “Yeah, let me check my calendar to see when Hell is due to freeze over.”

Josh laughed back. “Oh, I don’t need a calendar. I’ll just know it happened if I see your ugly mug on TV giving a weather forecast.”

“Douché,” Tony said.

“Don’t you mean
touché
?”

“Nah, I was calling you a douchebag, but in French.”

“Oh,” Josh said, assuming a terrible French accent, “oui, oui.”

“Wee-wee? Down the hall – you know where the bathroom is. And don’t forget to wash your freakin’ hands afterwards.” The two began laughing uproariously again, their already highly sophisticated senses of humor heightened by the power of malt, barley, and hops.

After fetching fresh beers with which to stimulate their articulators, the two sat down to watch the Bears lose yet another game.

Josh nodded off late in the fourth quarter. Tony was actually relieved – he wouldn’t have felt right letting Josh drive home after the amount of beer he had consumed. Treading lightly in his stocking feet while Josh snored on the couch, Tony cleaned up the apartment, his post-game neatness a holdover from his days hosting the Partly Cloudy Poker Club. Besides, he wasn’t really tired yet.

After checking one last time to make sure Josh was asleep, Tony gingerly picked up the boom box and tiptoed to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He made sure the volume was turned down low, then pressed Play. Watching his jaw movement in the mirror the way the pamphlet had suggested, Tony recited the exercises in response to the tape, which informed him they would now be working on diphthongs,
ah
sounds, and something called a
retroflexed R
.

The voice on the tape announced that
twilight time is rife with crime.

Tony repeated, “Twilight time is rife with crime.”

Paul thought the sauce was awful.

“Paul thought the sauce was awful.”

The bear in the chair saw the door in the floor.

“The bear in the chair saw the door in the floor...”

Down the hall, Josh snored contentedly on the living room couch, dreaming he was in a Milli Vanilli video.