18. Meg
18
MEG
M om began stacking the dirty plates and piling leftovers into Tupperware right there at the table. Her movements were deliberate, her irritation clear as she prepared to say whatever it was that had her on edge.
“You know the new pizza place across the road from Pops’ Pizza Place?” she asked. “GenZ ZA? Ever since they opened last summer, the guy has been doing what he can to make life hard for Pops. And it’s just getting worse by the day. That’s why business has been going down.”
Mimi put her phone down with a sigh. “You won’t believe the crazy stuff that’s happening. It’s pretty bad. And talk about disrespect to Pops. GenZ ZA’s owner is not a day over twenty-two.”
I didn’t know whether to be pissed or shocked. “Why is it the first time I’m hearing about this?” I asked.
“Because you have your own life to live,” Mom said. “And you know Pops—he doesn’t want any of you to worry. He believes the Universe is fair, that good always triumphs over evil, and that there's no need to dwell on things because everything will work out in the end. I’ve stopped trying to convince him otherwise.”
“What the actual fuck,” I said.
“Language…” Mom interrupted.
“Oh, come on, Mom. This creep is messing with Pops’ life, with your life. And I, for one, won’t stand by and watch it happen and hope for good to triumph over evil. We know by now that’s just a bunch of bullshit they sell you in fairy tales. I want to know who this guy is and what exactly he’s been doing to mess things up for Pops.”
Mona grinned at Mom. “Told you if Meg found out she was gonna beat that GenZ Za troll’s greasy ass like an old dusty rug.”
It was Mom’s turn to cut little pieces of leftovers for Cannoli. “There’s not much we can do. I even contacted a lawyer without telling Pops, but a lawyer wanted a retainer, which isn’t really in the budget right now.”
This was getting more ridiculous by the second. “And what am I, Mom? Chopped liver?”
“Baby, you were studying for your bar exam, I didn’t want to trouble you,” Mom said gently. “But I’ve had it with that jerk, and I thought you might have some ideas what we could do. Without Pops knowing if that’s possible.”
“Oh, believe me, I have some ideas. Fuck that jackass. Now he’s messing with my family.”
This time, Mom didn’t say a word about my bad language, so I figured she was too desperate to care. When her eyes met mine, I saw the reflection of something I never expected to see in my mom. Fear.
Mimi poured everyone more wine and even a few drops for Mona now that Pops wasn’t here to see. She winked at me. “Told you Meg would know what to do.”
“First, I want to know exactly what this GenZ ZA fool has been up to,” I said. “By the way, that’s such a stupid name. What is he, ten?”
“Wait till you hear this,” Mona said, sipping wine. “He’s been getting people to put bad customer reviews on Yelp for Pops’ Pizza Place.”
I almost swallowed my tongue. “He what!?”
Mimi quickly chimed in. “And he’s been releasing rats in the alley behind Pops’ Pizza Place, like honest to God, dirty nasty rats, not the cute ones at Gusty’s pet shop. And then he calls the health inspector and complains about Pops’ so-called dirty pizza joint. But that’s never worked because so far, no rats have found their way inside.”
“And four times now, he pretended to be Pops and canceled flour deliveries just before the weekend,” Mona said. “More than once Pops had to go and buy flour at full price in the grocery store.”
“The way things are going, the business won’t survive much longer,” Mom said softly. “And now Pops’ rent is going up just about every month because GenZ ZA ’s cousin or something owns the building where Pops’ Pizza Place is.”
I slowly breathed in and out. “You know what, leave it to me, Mom. But first, please tell me we have some proof of all the shit this doofus is pulling?”
With a smug little grin Mona opened an app on her phone and produced a grainy video of some bozos letting loose what could only be rats behind Pops’ Pizza Place.
“Joshua was the one who put cameras up around the joint,” Mimi said. “Without Pops knowing of course.”
I forced a smile, though I was pissed as hell. “Smart move. So, is there more?”
Mona showed me four more videos, and the knot in my stomach got so tight that I was about ready to go on a full-blown murder spree.
“Where is Pops’ rental agreement?” I asked Mom.
She went to grab the accordion folder with all the neatly-organized business papers and her prehistoric laptop. Being in charge of the accounting, her attention to detail was staggering.
“We need to get you a new laptop,” I told her. “I’ll look for a refurbished one. I think you got this one when I was like ten.”
While my sisters cleared the table and washed dishes, Mom and I sifted through the paperwork and online accounting. At one point, I noticed her fingers were shaking, and it made my heart ache.
I took her hand and said softly, “Listen to me. We’ll figure this out, and everything’s going to be okay. But you have to promise me you’ll never keep something like this from me ever again.”
Mom nodded, the fear in her eyes receding. Then she smiled and whispered. “So, while your sisters are in the kitchen, tell me about this Belmont man you’re working with.”
There was no lying to Mom, ever. So, I had to weave my way around the truth carefully. “There's nothing to tell,” I said. “He’s different from what I expected, and you can say he’s nice.”
Mom watched me, and I could see the wheels turning in her mind.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I wanted to know.
“Because your expression and voice change when you speak about him. So, I’m just wondering how nice he is,” she said in a tone that made me want to confess. The only question was how much I should share.
“Today’s been a little crazy, and honestly,” I said. “It’s just all a bit confusing.”
“What’s so confusing, Meg?”
I busied myself picking some crumbs from the tablecloth. “I might like him more than I want to. It’s not serious, but enough so that it’s... Well, confusing.”
Mom’s mouth quirked into a faint smile. “So, what you’re saying is you have a crush?"
“Maybe a stupid teensy tiny one,” I mumbled. “It’ll go away, but I’m irritated it happened with him. Please don’t tell anyone.”
“No, I won’t, it will stay between us. But, if you’re so sure the crush is temporary, then why do you sound like you’re not sure you want it to go away?” Mom asked, her words holding the key to my entire dilemma.
“Let me stop you right there,” I cut in quickly. “I totally want the crush to die, and it will. I mean, there are eight billion people in the world…the confusing part is why it has to be this guy.”
She gently patted my hand. “Baby, confusing doesn’t always mean something’s wrong. Sometimes it’s just your mind and heart trying to find their way.”
“Mom, I appreciate what you’re saying. You’re a wise woman. But no, my heart has nothing to do with anything here.”
“So, it has everything to do with ripping his clothes off and doing things to him not fit to say to a mom,” she said with a devious smile.
“Wow Mom, fun talk.”
This time, she laughed. “Meg, how do you think every love affair begins? It starts with a spark. If it's meant to be, that spark grows into something impossible to ignore, like love. If it’s not meant to be, it fizzles out, and life simply goes on.”
“Well, this will fizzle out faster than a wet firecracker on the fourth of July, so don’t you worry about that.”
She answered with a playful grin. “Oh, I’m not worried about that at all… But I take it the other lunch for tomorrow is for him then?”
“Would it be bad if it was?” I asked. “He’s a Belmont, and we’re supposed to hate the Belmonts. Right?”
“He’s your coworker, Meg. There’s nothing wrong with being nice and getting along with the person you’ll be spending eight hours with every day. Do you know if he has any food allergies, any specific likes or dislikes?”
“Okay, that escalated, easy now. Like I said, the estimated time of crush-death will be by tomorrow at the latest. And after that, I don’t expect to care what food he hates or likes or what sends him into anaphylactic shock. So please don’t start planning lunches for both of us. The lasagna and tiramisu are a one-time thing only.”
She cupped my cheek with a cool hand. “If you say so.”
Biting a smile, she stood up, gathering the remnants of cutlery off the table. “Come, let’s go help your sisters and pack your lunches for tomorrow.”
As she walked toward the kitchen, I could swear she snorted a private little laugh.
“Don’t make me regret telling you,” I threatened, and I was met with a burst of laughter as she entered the kitchen.
After watching the Real Housewives reality show, Mom and my sisters went to bed, and I went back to the laptop and accordion folder and meticulously worked my way through the business accounts.
All the while, imagining the terrible things I wanted to do to the owner of GenZ ZA. Violence was involved, even though I only had my savvy to rely on. And I was okay with that.
At midnight, Pops came home, and I went to the kitchen where he was making a glass of hot milk for Mom, their nightly ritual.
It might have been the dim light, but he suddenly seemed older to me, a few extra lines added to his face overnight.
“Hey Pops, how was work?”
I got the answer I expected. “It was fine, everything is fine, piccolina ,” he said. “What are you still doing up? Don’t you have to get up early for that fancy job?”
“I can take a nap on the car ride over. It has a pretty big backseat.”
“I see. So, do they treat you nice over there? At this place. You know, Satan’s Den.”
I laughed and hugged him a little closer than I normally do. “They do. You’d be the first one to know if they didn’t.”
Watching Pops make his way up the stairs, I felt sick to my stomach that some scumbag had the power to destroy his life’s work.
Well, not as long as I had a single breath left inside me.
As I crawled into my bed, I texted Isabel. It was 5 am in Chatoise, and I knew she’d already started her day.
Since she only used her phone for an hour before going to bed, I wouldn’t receive a text back until many hours later.
Me: Hey, I hope your day was good. Hair extensions were flying on tonight’s Housewives. Mom made lasagna and your tiramisu recipe for dinner. It was delish.
I made sure to steer clear of mentioning Roman or Belmont Manor, and especially how I didn’t really despise Byron. Those were the unspoken rules, and while I couldn’t fault her for them, the whole mess kept twisting my heart into a pretzel.
I clung to a thread of hope, imagining that everything would somehow blow over and in no time, Isabel would return. But I couldn’t escape my greatest fear—that Isabel might decide to stay in Chatoise for good.
There was a clairvoyant near the beauty salon where Mimi worked, and I decided it wouldn’t hurt to pay her a little visit and hear what she had to say. Mimi swore by her, and Mona thought she was a scam, but hell if I wasn’t desperate.
Mimi stirred on her twin bed by the window where she was sleeping.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Texting Isabel.”
“Say hi and send love…Hey, it’s nice to have you home, g’night.”
Slipping out of my bed, I kissed Mimi on the head. “It’s good to be here. Night, Sis.”
I finished the text to Isabel.
Me: I miss you, we all miss you. Everyone sends their love. Speak to you later!
Cannoli hopped onto the bed and nestled into the crook of my legs. The house was silent, save for the soft rustle of tree branches scraping against the roof in the breeze.
As I was going over the mental list of what I needed to do tomorrow, my mind wandered to the obstacle cluttering my path of going full steam ahead.
The one man who had scrambled my brain and left me with a tangled mess of feelings I had no idea what to make of. But like Mom said, it would simply fizzle out, and life would go on. If the crush wasn’t real. And this couldn’t be real. Operation Kill-Crush was formally a go.
It was with that encouraging thought that I fell asleep.