12. Chapter 12
Luciana and I slowly fell into a pattern. We’d wake up, I’d take her to go get Starbucks, and she’d wish me goodbye for work. Then I’d get home at God knows what hour and she’d be asleep in our bed.
Today was one of the few days I had off, and I decided we should spend it together.
“So, where do you want to go today?” I asked her.
Luciana raised her eyebrow at me, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
In our short amount of time together, I had learned she was a whirlwind of spontaneity and adventure.
“How about we go on a road trip?” she suggested with a playful smile, seeing if I would resist her wild idea.
“A road trip? We only have like, eight hours.”
“You’re right; it was a dumb idea. I’m not sure how I’d fare sitting next to you that long.”
“Well, now we’re definitely going,” I said mischievously.
Thus began our impromptu adventure. She threw together an assortment of snacks, some clothes, and other essentials in a bag while I grabbed the keys and fueled the car. We threw caution to the wind, deciding not to set a destination. We would simply drive where the road took us, and that was all part of her charm; the unpredictability, the thrill of something new.
The winding roads led us deep into a part of New Jersey that I had never laid eyes on before. The scenery was a lush tapestry, with vibrant green trees and rolling hills stretching out in all directions.
“What’s that?” Luciana asked.
“Hm?”
“Ooh, turn around! It looked like there was some fun little farmer’s market back there.”
I did as she asked. It was not a little “fun little farmers’ market.” It was a flea market labeled as an antique show, and I felt like I was going to get bed bugs just looking at the items they had for sale.
“We can keep go-” I started.
“It’s amazing!” Luciana said simultaneously.
Before I could respond, she was out of the car and meandering through the sea of vintage furniture and unusual knick-knacks. With a reluctant sigh, I followed her into the realm of the old and the bizarre.
I stopped trailing behind her when she started circling through the endless racks of vintage clothes. It had an overwhelming scent of mothballs Luciana couldn’t smell or ignored.
I perused the haphazardly displayed trinkets at the vendor’s stall. Among the array of odds and ends, one delicate doll caught my attention. Its porcelain skin bore intricate cracks and its once vibrant eyes had faded with age. A haunting aura surrounded the antique toy, evoking memories of a bygone era. Despite its worn appearance, the doll exuded a certain charm that was hard to resist.
The corner of my lip twitched upwards as I thought of a particularly devious idea. I looked through the sea of clothing and spotted Luciana browsing through a rack, her back turned toward me.
I crouched down as I walked between the rows, walking towards her much like a lion hunts its prey. As I neared her, I made sure my footsteps got even lighter so she wouldn’t hear me.
“Ah!” I said, jumping out of the coatrack, the doll between my hands.
In a flash, Luciana whirled around, her eyes wide with surprise. For a split second, she seemed frozen in fear but then she broke into an infectious laughter, almost collapsing into the rack of clothes.
“You’re insufferable,” she said, shaking her head.
Yet there was no real bite to her words, only the ring of shared amusement. She took the doll from me, and I watched as she held it delicately in her hands, her fingers tracing the porcelain face thoughtfully.
“I think it’s cute.”
“Most people think dolls are creepy,” I responded.
She shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes still transfixed on the doll. “I like the old and the unusual. There’s a story behind each crack, each faded color.”
“Is that why you like urban exploration?”
It was the first time I had asked about her hobby. I was glad she had one. I just wished it was something safer. But one of the Dino’s could take down a stray homeless druggie if anything should go south.
“Probably.” She passed the doll back to me. “Ok, I’m just going to finish looking at these clothes and I think I’ll be ready to keep going!”
“Sounds good.”
As I walked the doll back to the counter, I couldn’t help but notice how much it looked like a fish. Curly orange hair, blue eyes, and something about the jester clothes and makeup was giving it an aquatic vibe.
Guess I was getting Luciana a friend.
After I finished purchasing it, I texted her I’d be waiting by the car. Five minutes later, she met me there.
“What’d you get?” she asked curiously.
“Got you a gift.” I reached into the bag and pulled out the doll. “She reminded me of a fish, and I thought my Jaws might want a friend.”
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I like it.”
“How does the name ‘Bait’ sound?”
At the insistence of Luciana, the two of us had stopped by a park to eat lunch. I had suggested a restaurant, but Luciana was hell bent on enjoying the views this park offered.
So, we stopped at a fast-food restaurant - also Luciana’s idea - and now sat on a park bench with our greasy burgers and fries. I hadn’t eaten fast food in my adult life, and was eyeing my burger skeptically.
“It’s not going to kill you,” Luciana said.
“Probably not.”
“Here!” She grabbed a french fry out of her container and brought it towards me. “Say ‘ah!’”
I hesitated for a moment, then opened my mouth and let her put the fry inside. It was warm, salty and crispy. Quite to my surprise, it was also strangely satisfying.
“See?” Luciana laughed as I chewed thoughtfully.
With the guaranteed delicious fry, my apprehension over the burger disappeared, and I took a bite. Luciana was right; It was pretty good. It obviously didn’t touch the ones I ate when I was at Michelin star restaurants, but for five dollars it was tasty.
“Not bad,” I said.
I couldn’t decipher her response; She was trying to talk to me and eat her burger at the same time.
Soon, we fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional squawking of the nearby flocks of birds and the rustling of the leaves in the light breeze. A few crumbs from our meal spilled down onto the ground, attracting a small group of persistent pigeons that flocked around our bench expectantly.
Luciana broke her leftover french fries into bits and threw them at the pigeons.
“What do you think it’s like to be a bird?” she asked.
“Miserable, probably. They just peck at food scraps and poop too much. What about you?”
“I think it might be cool. They can fly anywhere whenever they want.” Like,” she stood up and started consolidating our trash. “They could all just road trip it to California right now.”
I took the trash bag away from her. I gathered the bag in my hands, twisting and shaping it into a makeshift ball, before lofting it expertly towards the bin. As it landed inside with a satisfying thud, I grinned at her, proud of my makeshift game and the successful disposal of our waste.
“Maybe you should consider leaving the Mafia to pursue a career in basketball,” she said facetiously.
“Nah,” I responded. “I have a cute little mob wife I need to take care of.”
“I-I, what!” Luciana sputtered, her face turning bright red. “I can take care of myself!”
It was fun riling her up. I laughed and ruffled her hair, running my fingers through the long, silky strands.
“C’mon Jaws. Let’s go home.”