38
Butterfly: To split food through the center, thinning it out, but not cutting through it entirely.
2016
“You sure you want to do this?”
The accompanying click-click-click conjured Saskia tapping a pen against her teeth.
She’d done that a lot during the interview process.
“It’s pretty risky.”
“Risk I’m willing to take,”
Regina said.
“Can you arrange it?”
“Of course.
I’ll text you the details.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“So?”
Saskia prodded before Regina could sign off.
“Less than a month.
You ready?”
Regina didn’t need to ask for what any more than Saskia had needed an answer to begin with.
They were both nervously excited.
“Just a couple of details to cinch up, but yeah.”
“Anything I can help with?”
Regina laughed Queenie’s laugh.
“You got all the information I’m giving you.”
“For now.”
Click-click-click.
“You owe me two more interviews.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
A car door slammed outside the kitchen service doors.
“Here comes one of those details.
Got to go.
Text me the details. And thanks, Sas.”
Regina watched Kyle and Lucy enter from the darkened stairwell leading to her apartment.
Upstairs, Gladys played rummy with Abigay, a game the caregiver didn’t have to let her win.
She might not know what day it was, or even what decade, but Her Highness was a crackerjack card player.
Rather than Gladys’s company making Regina feel claustrophobic, she was kind of enjoying it. Maybe knowing it wasn’t going to last long had something to do with it.
A lump rose to her throat, almost beating out the thrill chasing itself across her skin.
This was it.
The last bits and pieces.
There was no going back, as if halting the locomotive that was Queenie B had ever been possible to begin with. She stepped out of the stairwell and into the light.
“Regina.”
Lucy rushed her.
“What’s wrong? What’s going on? Why did you ask us to come in without telling Gale? Is he okay?”
She grabbed Regina by the arms.
“Is this an intervention?”
Removing her hands, Regina pushed her gently into a chair.
“Gale’s fine.”
“I tried to tell her.”
“No offense, Kyle, but you never told me the truth of things, back when—”
“Enough.”
Gratified, it hadn’t been cantankerous Regina, but decisive Queenie B who had silenced them so effectively.
This was about Gale.
It was all about Gale.
Mostly, anyway.
At least half.
“I’ll get right to it,”
she said.
“There’s a lot going on I haven’t told anyone about, including Gale, and—”
“Good stuff?”
Kyle asked.
“You’re not dying or anything, right?”
She leveled a glare, this time, all Regina.
It was kind of cool, being able to call upon either.
It was getting easier.
Soon, Regina and Queenie would be one person again. Maybe for the first time.
“Sorry,”
he murmured.
“Good stuff, but big stuff,”
she said.
“And I don’t want Gale to know anything until after his competition next week.”
“Because you’re afraid he’ll freak out,”
Kyle said.
“Because there’s no point in taking the chance beforehand.
Now quit yammering and let me finish.”
“Yes, Chef.”
It didn’t rankle.
Not this time.
Yes, Chef.
Exactly what Regina and Queenie were. “I’m going to tell you everything,”
she began, “because I trust you, and because I need your help to pull it off . . .”
“Surprise!”
He knew, of course.
Marco had given him the night off, he said, so he could rest up before the big day tomorrow.
There was no way Gale was relaxing at home, or even sleeping until he was too exhausted to stay awake.
But Regina wouldn’t let him come in either. When Gale called his parents, Lucy said they had plans. And, as far as he knew, Kyle wasn’t working, but he wasn’t home either.
Then, “Can you come in after all?,”
Regina had said only half an hour ago.
“I just need a little help getting breakfast prepped for tomorrow.”
At eight o’clock.
Regina never needed help prepping for breakfast.
Kyle walked in not five minutes later, offering to drive him to the kitchen and lend a hand, considering he’d gotten off work early.
Lies, but the good kind. The loving kind.
Don’t be an asshole and spoil it for them.
As if he’d needed Sean’s prompting.
“Surprise!”
they—Kyle and Regina and Marco; Burger Queen, his parents, and even Brian—shouted.
One glaring absence Gale registered and let go.
Of course Jenara wasn’t there.
No surprises, good or sad, but Gale still cried. It didn’t take much, lately.
“Thanks, everyone.”
He thumbed the tears away.
“You’re too much.”
“It’s not every day your son competes on television for fifty thousand dollars.”
Lucy kissed both his cheeks.
Danny Carmichael clapped him on the back.
“Win or lose, son, we’re proud of you.”
“Not me.”
Brian mock-punched him.
“I want the win.”
“Shut up, nerdface.”
Yeah, shut up, Brian.
The brothers hugged, a real hug.
There went the waterworks again.
Gale got passed from Brian to Marco to Kyle to Gladys—who allowed him to shake her hand—and finally to Regina, who held him like she had the night he’d come to her shit-faced and raving.
“I have one more surprise for you.”
She handed him her cell phone.
Gale took it. “Hello?”
“Hey! Just wanted to say good luck tomorrow.”
Holy shit; would he ever stop crying? “Troy?”
“Yessiree.”
He hooted that big laugh Gale remembered only now, hearing it again.
“I’m that bad penny, always turning up.”
The phone got passed, even though, aside from Regina, only Kyle and—technically, though not actually—Gladys knew who Troy was.
It was a party, celebrating Gale.
He tried his best to enjoy it, and he did, until the glaring absence that hurt more than it had since that day at Savin Rock poked him in the ribs.
Jenara had been everything new and wonderful, then became part of his everyday to the point of him taking her place in it for granted.
And now, the truth had broken her in a way Gale could never fix.
They’d done right, for themselves and for each other.
At least there was that.
Because everyone at the party—including his father and Brian, who weren’t supposed to know but Lucy had broken Regina down—knew who she was, Regina had prepared “light hors d’oeuvres”
Queenie B style.
Crispy prosciutto-wrapped figs, stuffed with goat cheese and drizzled with honey; smoked trout and garlic cream on rye toasts; spears of endive with lobster, avocado, and grapefruit; skewers of tomato, basil, and mozzarella with a light drizzle of olive oil, which Mom had prepared all on her own, having watched a video until she could do it exactly the same way.
Kyle had been in the kitchen all afternoon, helping pull it all off.
Everything was beautiful. Perfection. It excited Gale’s palate and his imagination.
So used to taking whatever Regina gave him and turning it into something else, he switched out the goat cheese with the garlic cream, the lobster and the smoked trout.
Inside his own head, every amazing morsel he ate became something else. If he could think as fast tomorrow, maybe it wouldn’t be the embarrassing disaster he feared.
“Ten o’clock!”
Lucy clapped them all silent.
“Everyone, go home.
Gale needs a good night’s sleep.”
“There’s no need to be rude.”
Gladys, hands over her ears, scowled.
“Why are Italians always so loud?”
“Why are old ladies always so cranky?”
Lucy straightened Burger Queen’s crown.
“You’re up past your bedtime too.”
“I’m not a child.
Where is Abigay?”
Everyone fell silent, glancing at one another.
Heavens to Murgatroyd, she remembered.
Regina said, “I gave her the night off.”
“And who are you to tell my maid what to do, when?”
“She’s not your—”
Marco began, but Regina put a hand on his arm.
“She’ll be home any minute.”
The old woman hmphed, glaring off into space.
“You want to come spend the night at home, son?”
Danny put an arm around his son’s shoulders.
“Having both you boys there would be fun.”
“Yeah, Gale.
I’ll let you get all the sleep you need in our old twin beds.
I promise not to fart too much.”
“Don’t be disgusting.”
Lucy swatted Brian.
“Wonderful as that sounds,”
Gale answered, “the car’s picking me up in front of my place real early tomorrow.
I don’t want to try changing that now.”
“Right, right.”
Danny squeezed him gently.
“You’ll do great, son.”
“Yeah, you’ll do great.”
Brian’s sincerity, questionable as it was most of the time, warmed.
“If you need to talk after, win or lose, just call me, okay? I’m always here for you, bud.
We all are.”
Silence.
Awkward glances.
Except for Regina, who scowled at the rest of them.
Ah. Clarity.
The warmth ebbed, just a bit.
Nothing he didn’t deserve. Nothing they shouldn’t expect even if they hoped it wouldn’t happen.
Gale hugged his parents, his brother.
He promised to call them, one way or another.
And he would.
There was no way he was fucking it up this time. No way.
No way, man.
The afterimage burned bright; Sean’s version of a smile.
No fucking way.
“Hey?”
Lucy smooshed Gale’s cheeks, thumbing those damn tears springing a leak.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.
Honest.
Just, this is a lot, you know? I’m happy.”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“Go home,”
he said.
“I’ll call tomorrow.
It’ll probably be late.”
“Late never bothered me.”
She smoothed back his hair, pressed a finger into the dimple in his chin.
“Love you, buddy.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
“I’m out of here too.”
Marco jostled him back and forth.
“Got to cover for my lazy-ass sous chef tomorrow.”
Gale chuckled.
“I’ll do you proud, Chef.”
“I know.”
Marco let him go.
“You got this, kid.
Any way it goes, you’re a star.
Remember that.”
A star.
Yeah, man.
A star.
Wear it well.
You earned it.
“I’m not a star,”
he told them both, barely above a whisper.
“That’s what she said.”
Marco jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.
“Once upon a time.”
“I never said any such thing.”
“Do you always got to ruin my best lines?”
Marco grabbed Gale’s face, kissed each cheek, Italian style.
Slinging an arm over Regina’s shoulders, Marco only laughed when she shoved him off.
Damn, Gale loved them.
He loved all of them.
They love you too, man.
Lucky dog.
“I got a long day tomorrow, too.”
Kyle was the only one left, besides the Burger Queen still staring moodily into space, though Gale would bet she no longer knew why.
“You ready to roll?”
“You go home.
I want to help Regina clean up in here.”
Kyle looked one way, another.
“It’s just a few paper plates.
We can have it done in—”
“Dude.”
Understanding dawned with that goofy, beautiful smile.
“Gotcha.
You want a little one-on-one with the mentor.”
“Something like that,”
Gale told him, though it wasn’t the whole truth.
What he wanted, even more than a few last moments with Regina, was time alone.
All alone.
You’re never alone, man.
Tears built behind his eyes.
He wouldn’t let them go.
Not in front of Kyle, who’d misread them.
Like everyone did. Everyone but Regina, who’d understand it all.
“Look who I found.”
Regina pushed open the back door, Abigay in tow.
“See, Gladys? I told you she’d be home any minute.”
“Who’s home?”
“Me, Miss Gladys.”
She bent just a bit lower.
“Abigay.
We play cards and watch game shows together.”
The Burger Queen backed away, tugging Regina to her level.
“I have a colored maid?”
“You have a caregiver who takes wonderful care of you.”
“Daddy hired a colored girl once, but Mama only hires Irish.
We had to let her go.”
“Nah-nah, Miss Gladys.”
Abigay shook her head at Regina, smiling.
“Let’s go on upstairs now.
It’s way past bedtime.”
Regina watched them go slowly up the stairs, Abigay always ready to catch the old woman if she fell.
She would have gotten one of those chair-lift things, but the stairway was too narrow and Her Highness was far too spry and ornery to use one.
“I’ll be up shortly,”
she called after them.
“Shout if you need me.”
She left the door open so she’d hear if anyone did shout.
No one would, but she felt better doing so.
Most likely, the old woman would be out like a light before Regina got upstairs, and Abigay would be settled into her makeshift room in the office for the night.
Saskia had done as she asked and texted the information she needed; Regina had a long day ahead of herself tomorrow too. She needed to get to bed, even if sleep probably wasn’t happening.
“You two don’t need to stay and help.”
Gale lowered his head, started collecting garbage.
Kyle gesticulated behind his back, nothing Regina could actually decipher, but she got the idea.
She shooed him out.
He gave her a thumbs-up, that grin of his making her smile too. He would never be a great chef. His big break wasn’t going to be culinary stardom. But he was a good cook, and he had a big heart. Regina had done well, choosing him.
Gale rolled the industrial garbage barrel about the kitchen, tossing empty plates—not a morsel of her hors d’oeuvres to be seen—and cups into it.
She expected the too-tightly-wound aspect to be radiating off him.
“Put that down.”
Not too tightly wound.
Unraveling.
Gale did as she asked.
Regina sat down at the little table in the corner. The one where she’d sat with Petunia. Gladys. Sometimes, but rarely, Troy. Until this past year, the only people she’d allowed into her life.
Until Gale. And then Lucy and Marco and now Kyle. Her world opening up like the flower a bee being chased by a pair of smacking, crimson lips used to land upon.
“Talk to me.”
Tears rolled.
She’d noticed it happening a lot tonight, put it down to nerves or excitement or even Jenara not being there, and it was.
But that wasn’t all.
Regina took his hand across the table.
“I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with me,”
he said.
“Everything?”
“That doesn’t tell me shit, Gale.”
He laughed, softly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
“I’ve been feeling ... fragile, I guess is the word. Like, I cry for no reason. If I’m happy. If I’m sad. Excited or nervous or tired. The only time I don’t want to cry is when I’m cooking.”
“That bodes well for tomorrow.”
She smiled, just as softly.
“It’s understandable.
This whole thing with Jenara—”
“It’s not that so much,”
he said.
“Part of it, yeah, but I know it was the right thing for both of us.”
She knew the feeling, especially since coming to her decision, since making all her plans.
The need to contact Osvaldo, to pull him and Julian back into her world, this new and brilliant world she swore to every god and star in the heavens she’d make right this time, overwhelmed.
Thank those gods and stars for Marco.
But Jenara was not that grounding force for Gale.
“I liked her,”
she said.
“But you’re right.
Too much of the same baggage makes a heavy load.”
He snickered, watery and trembling.
“You read that on a magnet or something?”
Regina Benuzzi of 2015 would have bitten his head off.
Regina soon-to-be Queenie B did not.
“I should copyright it.”
“You’d make a fortune.”
“Another one.”
Her smile faded with his.
Patience.
Something she’d never had before but found somewhere between her biggest fall and this moment.
Her hand still covering his, she stroked it with her thumb.
“I didn’t think I’d be this nervous,”
Gale told her.
“It’s not like I don’t know what’s coming.
Maybe it’s because I want to win so bad this time.
Not for . . . well, for the money, but it’s more. It feels like it’s . . . like I’m . . .”
“On the verge of something great?”
His smile broke through the dam of tears, dazzling.
“Food is all I think about.
Not, you know, food.
The art of it, I guess. All the things I want to do with it. It’s like when I was younger. Before drugs and Sean and these couple of years doing just enough to survive myself. I had dreams, Regina. Dreams I forgot all about. This last year and some with you?”
Dazzling, dazzling, dazzling.
“It’s like I finally woke up or something.
That sounds stupid.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Hadn’t she felt the same? He’d been the light in her dark.
She’d been the light in his.
Accidental mentor and mentee.
Guiding stars. Life preservers tossed overboard on a sea, if not turbulent, too dreadfully still. Pick a cliché. Regina hadn’t the words to articulate any of it, nor the mouth that would even if she could. She’d never been made for anything so flowery or deep.
“It sounds right,”
she said.
“Don’t be afraid to shine, Gale.”
“I’m not sure I know how.
I think too much.”
She had too, once upon a time.
Until she stopped thinking completely, and everything went to hell.
“You can’t live with the past like the new monkey on your back.
You did shit. I did shit. We picked ourselves up and we kept going. You want to look back? Look back on that and let it drive you instead of pull you down. Don’t stop thinking, but try not to let those thoughts beat the piss out of you.”
Gale hung his head, picked at his thumbnail.
Regina resisted the urge to smack his hand, tell him to stop.
She wasn’t his mother.
He had one. A good one. And Regina had been a poor one. Taking her own advice, she let that go. Julian had a good mother now too. And Gale needed a friend.
“You’ll be nervous about tomorrow until you look into that first crate,”
she said.
“It’s not the competition, but the lead-up to it.
The lead-up to every new crate.
But you shine when you’re in the groove, Gale. Hold on to that really, really hard. Trust that euphoric rush is going to come, because it always does.”
“My new drug.”
He lifted his head, tears rolling.
“Don’t you see? I’m just changing where I get the rush from.
I’m always going to need it to function.”
“So what?”
“What do you mean, so what?”
“Everyone has their thing, Gale.
For some, it’s love, or money, or thrill of the chase, or a million other reasons they have for doing whatever it is they do.
We traded ours for something bad, for something false.
But we got it back. Don’t you get that?”
Not dazzling now.
A little sad.
A little relieved.
A whole lot skeptical. But he heard her, and Regina had to remind herself that all her hindsight, though sparked by him, was still new in Gale’s past. And he’d lost a friend, for which he felt responsible. That was a whole level of hurt she’d escaped, even if all her levels had been so public and well-documented.
“Come on.
I’ll take you home.”
“Nah.”
Gale pushed out of his chair as if he carried a precariously perched burden.
“I need the walk.”
“All right,”
Regina said, keeping to herself all the worry for him walking the streets in this area, so late.
The trouble he could get in, considering his admitted fragility and his nerves and the thousands of pitfalls he could fall into along the way.
Regina knew better than anyone there was no saving him from any of it, except maybe the mugging like the one that led him to her in the first place.
Hugging him a little closer, a little longer than necessary, she didn’t say anything at all. She’d see him tomorrow. In his groove. In his euphoria. Not so much battling his demons as rising above them.