Chapter 2
CLARISSA
My dream of becoming an actress had been in my mind for years, and now that I had finished high school, I felt ready for this big adventure.
I walked into the small kitchen and sat down. I looked down at the plate.
Just rice and beans again, I thought.
“Eat,” my mother said. “You need to eat.”
I looked around the walls of the kitchen. They were a pale yellow. They made me want to vomit more often than not.
“Mom, I don’t want to eat rice and beans anymore,” I whined.
My mom stood in front of the sink, washing the dishes. She was looking out the old window toward the backyard trees.
She turned to me. “You know, be glad you have something to eat. Your father is looking for a job, and we’re living off the little savings we have left,” she said.
There was a knock at the entrance of the kitchen.
“Knock, knock,” Grandpa said.
“Who’s there?” I asked.
“Annie,” Grandpa answered.
“Annie who?”
“Annie-thing you can do, I can do better,” Grandpa said in a singing voice.
“Anything you can do, I can do better,” we sang together.
We laughed. That was our little tune.
My grandpa was a towering figure with broad shoulders and bright, kind eyes—this made him popular with the ladies and unpopular with his wife.
He had a great sense of humor. Despite his years, he looked great.
He exercised every day and kept a good diet.
He was the one who insisted I take care of myself.
He was definitely a big influence in my life.
He always knew how to lift my spirits.
“Hey, baby girl. What are you up to?”
“Ha. I’ll tell you what she was up to,” my mother interjected. “She was complaining about eating the poor man’s diet.”
“What the hell is that?” I asked.
What the hell is Mom talking about?
“Rice and beans, silly. Rice and beans are good for you. They make you strong,” Grandpa said.
“Yeah, but they also make me fart a lot,” I shot back.
My mom rolled her eyes. My grandpa laughed, and I was simply tired of poverty.
“So you get a few more aromatic bubbles when you take a bubble bath,” he said.
“Grandpa, that’s nasty,” I replied.
“Yeah, but don’t tell me it’s not true,” Grandpa added.
I shook my head.
You and your sense of humor.
I cracked up.
“Oh, now you think it’s funny.”
We both laughed. Mom wasn’t having it. She dried the dishes and looked serious.
My grandpa looked around the kitchen. The cabinets were all busted up. The paint was peeling off.
“Are you thinking of fixing the cabinets, Grandpa?” I asked.
“Oh, God, no,” he snapped. “I’m trying to remember where you keep the good glasses so I can grab one to pour me a cold beer.”
My mom was visibly upset as soon as he said that. My father liked to drink, and so did my dad. Beer just happened to be their pastime and our curse.
“Dad, there’s no beer for you,” my mom said.
“Please don’t lie to me. I know you keep them all the way in the back of the freezer.”
I got up from the kitchen table and opened the freezer door. I took out a beer and gave it to him.
“If you’re going to die, you might as well die on your own terms,” I said.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Clarissa. Are you practicing your lines?” Grandpa asked.
“No, Grandpa. But how was my delivery?”
My grandpa took a pause.
“I must admit, that sounded pretty good.”
“Oh, please, that was mediocre at best,” my mom chimed in.
I turned my attention to my mom. She knew how to get under my skin. I knew she was lying. She just didn’t want me to go to New York.
“Hate much, Mom?” I shot back.
“Acting is a crazy gamble. You need something stable,” she said.
My grandpa took a sip of his very cold beer and made a face.
He had a brain freeze.
“Stop being an ass, dear,” Grandpa said to my mom. My mom didn’t look too happy with his comment. “I’m surprised you treat Clarissa like that. I never stopped you from trying to achieve your crazy dreams of becoming a jazz singer.”
Mom, a jazz singer? Wow, I never knew.
“You decided to marry your loser husband, and I never stopped you. So stop trying to crush Clarissa’s dream,” he said sternly.
“Fine, fine. Your delivery was good, Clarissa,” my mom admitted.
I knew she was lying when she said she didn’t like my acting.
I looked at both of them with gratitude.
“I’m leaving for New York!” I announced.
Both of them were shocked. My grandpa sat down on one of the chairs at the kitchen table; my mother soon followed and sat in the other. I stood in front of both of them. Grandpa looked happy, my mom looked worried, and I was terrified I had made that decision in the spur of the moment.
“I’m happy to hear you’ve made your decision,” Grandpa said. He looked at his drink and smiled.
My mom looked more worried as the moments passed.
“What am I supposed to do without your help, Clarissa?” She shook her head. “You know your father is of no help.”
“I do. I definitely do—” I said.
I felt uncomfortable, like I was never going to be free from this invisible cage. But, thankfully, Grandpa came to my aid.
“I’ll help out, darling,” Grandpa said to my mom. “My pension from Moretti kicked in a few months back, and now that I’m old enough, I can access my retirement account.”
I hated the name Moretti. My grandfather had worked for the Moretti family all his life, collecting debt for their loan shark business here in Jersey. I knew all about their so-called businesses.
“Why have you kept that a secret?” my mom asked. “You know I’ve been struggling; my husband is out of work, and now Clarissa wants to abandon me.”
My mom was being overdramatic. I guess she’s who I learned it from. Her acting was A+.
“Secret? Let’s not talk about secrets. You kept your pregnancy a secret until after you married your deadbeat husband. You swore to me that it was out of love, but it wasn’t. You threatened him, saying I would break his legs if he didn’t. I’m sure that’s why he drinks so much.”
My grandpa unloaded his truth, and I couldn’t fault him. He needed to say those things. My mom hadn’t been a model daughter, but as fate would have it, I was a blessing in disguise.
“Grandpa, please take it easy.”
I walked over to him, gave him a hug, and gave him a big, fat kiss on his right cheek.
“Thank you, baby. I know you love me as much as I love you.”
He gave my mom a side-eye.
My mom wasn’t having it. She got up from her seat.
“Enough of this lovey-dovey bullshit. Let’s talk about solutions.”
“See, the claws come out,” my grandpa said.
He finished his beer and asked for another.
“No, Grandpa. One is enough. As a matter of fact, you shouldn’t be drinking at all,” I said.
He looked at me with resentful eyes. My mom looked at me and made gestures with her hands for me to hurry up.
“Fine. I drank one for now, but I’ll take one for the road.”
“The hell you will. Those beers are for my husband. He’s going to be pissed if you take his last beer,” my mom said.
Grandpa looked at me and shrugged.
“She’s right, you know. No more drinking for you. I need you to live a long life,” I replied. “You need to take care of your health.”
“Double-teaming is not allowed.”
My grandpa let out a hearty laugh. He laughed so hard he almost fell off his chair. I was able to steady the chair, and he regained his composure.
“Alright, alright. This is what I’m going to do for your mom.”
There was a pause. He thought about the amount of money that would help my parents but not break the bank.
“I’ll be giving her $500.00 a month. I think that’ll be enough to help with the bills.”
“Make it $600, and we have a deal,” my mom said.
She looked more interested in the money than in trying to help me with my dream. But that was my mom. Life had dealt her a bad hand. She felt that life was about luck. I, on the other hand, believed I could make my own luck, and I took a chance on myself since I was young and beautiful.
My grandpa got up from his seat and took out his wallet from his back pocket. He opened it. He took out six $100 bills and gave them to my mom.
My mom looked happy. She hugged him and gave him a kiss on the left cheek.
“Thank you, Daddy. You know I love you, right?”
“Yes. I know. But I’ve noticed you love me more when I give you money.”
He laughed.
“And who says money can’t buy love?”
We all laughed. It was a very fun moment, and I learned a very valuable lesson from my grandpa that day.
Money can buy happiness.
We walked outside to say goodbye to Grandpa.
The day was beautiful. The sky was blue, and my hopes were high.
I was finally going to make my dreams of becoming an actress a reality.
New York was a tough place, and I knew that to survive I may have to lie, cheat, and steal, but I wasn’t worried. I had learned from the best—my grandpa.
“Well, you’re all set, Clarissa,” Grandpa said. “One last thing. My ex-boss, Moretti, gave me his son’s number in New York. His son runs the Moretti nightclubs in New York. He told me you can contact his son and he’ll get you a job while you get situated.”
“Grandpa! Those are strip joints. I don’t feel comfortable asking for a job at a strip joint,” I shot back.
“That’s right,” my mom interjected. “I’m not sending her to New York to be a stripper. What’s the matter with you?”
“Relax, both of you, relax,” Grandpa said.
He let out a big sigh.
The sky changed; it was getting darker, but it was only 5:00 p.m.
“Look, Moretti owes me many favors. His son is going to give you a job. If you don’t feel comfortable, don’t take it, but don’t be so hasty in turning it down before you even get there. You’re going to need a job.”
My mom and I nodded.
“I love you, Grandpa,” I said.
“I love you, too, sweetie,” he replied.
We embraced.
Little did I know his days were numbered.
“Bye, Grandpa,” I said as he walked away to get into his car.
Mom waved goodbye.
Grandpa slowly took off down the street, and I ran out to the middle of the street and waved. He honked his horn, took out his left arm, and waved back.
“Love you, Grandpa,” I whispered to myself.
Vincent Moretti, here I come.