All Summer Long: A Novel Part 37

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"Yeah, I finally realized I couldn't have my cake and . . ."

"I've got the whole picture," Olivia said. "Well, Gladdie? I went to my drugstore this morning and bought something for you. Coloring books and crayons. Do you like to color?"

"Oh, yes!" she said. "Can I have them?"

"What do you say, Gladdie?" Bob said.

"Thank you!"



"Here you go, but why don't we save them for the plane ride?"

"Olivia? That's a good idea."

Olivia laughed because Gladdie sounded like a woman way beyond her years.

"And what's all this?"

On the floor were half a dozen shopping bags from Chanel, Herms, and Chopard.

"Peace offerings," Bob said. "For mother and daughter."

Olivia did some quick calculations and figured there could be thousands of dollars in value in the bags. Scarves? Handbags? Jewels? Bob didn't exactly frequent John's Bargain Bas.e.m.e.nt or Klein's on the Square.

"Well, you know what I'd call it?" Olivia said.

"No, what?"

"A good start." She smiled.

One of the pilots appeared.

"Is everyone ready?" he said.

"Let's load 'em up!" Bob said.

"We're going to get my mommy and bring her home!" Gladdie said, all smiles.

"Then let's go get her!" the pilot said.

When they were airborne and Gladdie was busy coloring, Bob said, "What if she doesn't come home with me?"

"She will, Bob. She will."

"What should I say to her?"

"Tell her you are deeply sorry for whatever you did-which I don't want the details of-and tell her it will never happen again. Tell her that you love her and you're begging her forgiveness. Tell her you want to spend the rest of your life making her happy."

"When did you get so smart about relations.h.i.+ps?"

"It's how I feel about Nick."

"Nick is a good man. He's great company and he makes me laugh like h.e.l.l. He makes me feel like I'm talking to Shakespeare."

Olivia laughed. "Nick loves language. You should see his old map collection."

"Old maps? What an odd thing to collect."

"Well, map making was a very big deal when countries were being settled. A lot of the time they had huge errors in them. Those are the ones that Nick likes best."

"Well, one of these days I'll come to Charleston and we'll get together. I'd love to see what blows wind up his kilt! Ha-ha! I'm just always so d.a.m.n busy. I don't know why I keep working. It's not like we need the money. I guess I just like building businesses."

"It's good for your mind and it puts people to work, which is a very good thing." She was thumbing through an Architectural Digest.

Bob, who was a quick as a fox, got a sense that Olivia was giving him a subliminal message.

"Okay, Olivia, time to come clean."

"About what?" She looked at him in all innocence, having no idea what he meant.

"How many jobs have you got on your books? Just tell me."

"One."

"How many did you have six months ago?"

"Maximum capacity."

"What happened?"

Olivia hated telling the details of her decline, but she couldn't lie to Bob. They knew each other for so long. And he really didn't want the details, just the gist.

"It was a cl.u.s.ter you-know-what."

"Like Bear Sterns and Lehman Brothers?"

"Yep. When the markets take a beating, so do I. When Wall Street executives file for divorce, plans are changed."

"And you get shorted," he said.

"Big-time."

"Want to do some commercial stuff for a while? I'm opening up new restaurants all over the place."

"Bob, you are an angel. Let's get you straight with Maritza and then we can talk about that."

"I'm no angel," he said and Gladdie crawled up on his lap.

"I'm hungry, Daddy."

"Princess? Daddy forgot to order catering. Why don't you go see what's in the snack drawers?"

"Okay!"

"I'll help you," Olivia said.

"Thanks! Want to see the picture I colored for Mommy?"

She held up the coloring book and showed them a picture of a mother hen and her baby chicks. Of course the coloring wasn't all in the lines, but the colors she chose were in the spectrum of nature's own. Yellow chicks with orange beaks were standing on green gra.s.s. The sky-well, parts of it-was blue.

"You may have a budding artist on your hands, Bob!" Olivia said. "Gladdie, this is very, very good for a young lady your age!" And she meant it.

"Thanks!" Gladdie said and beamed with pride. "Should I do another one?"

"Definitely! Do one for your daddy's office!" Olivia whispered.

"I'm gonna do it right now!" Gladdie whispered back as though she and Olivia were conspiring together to repaint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

"I'll get you a snack," Olivia said and smiled.

Olivia fished out a pack of Oreos, a bag of Doritos, and a tiny box of apple juice with a straw attached to its side. She placed it on Gladdie's table, opening everything for her.

"Thanks, Olivia," Gladdie said.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," Olivia said. "Bob? Do you want anything since I'm up?"

"No, thanks. Okay, maybe a bottle of water."

Olivia took two tiny bottles of Pellegrino from the refrigerator.

"Water's always a good idea. So, Bob?" Olivia went back to her seat, handed him a bottle and fastened her seat belt. "Have you noticed how well behaved your little one is this morning?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid to say anything and jinx it."

"Well, I'm going to give you my amateur psychologist opinion."

"Lay it on me, sister."

"Somehow, don't ask me how, but somehow your child knew the other one was a problem between you and her mom. So if she was acting up, maybe she thought she would make the other one look bad and she'd have to go. I'm phrasing it this way on account of because . . ."

Olivia c.o.c.ked her head in the direction of Gladdie, who was happily coloring and eating her cookies with all the poise of a grand d.u.c.h.ess.

Bob turned around and took a look at Gladdie and shook his head. He looked at Olivia and said, "Why are women so much smarter than men? Even at her age, she's got it all figured out."

"I think it's called feminine intuition, Bob, and there's no point in trying to fight it."

"You'd think I would've learned this lesson by now."

"Well, now you've got a daughter and you can witness her female intuition as it grows. It becomes either a useful a.s.set or a treacherous tool."

"I think it would be so much easier if women could just raise their own children," Bob said. "All these nannies are nothing but trouble."

Try exercising some personal restraint, she thought but did not say.

"Well, of course it is better-well, maybe it's not always better-but more and more being a stay-at-home mom doesn't fit in with the economics of a normal average family. In fact, most women have to work."

"And Nick retired."

"Yup."

"Okay, I've got the whole thing now."

"Bob, I'm going to be okay. Don't worry about me. Especially today."

The plane began its descent and landed quietly in Jackson, Mississippi.

"I've got a car to take us there and he's going to wait. Hopefully, we'll all be on a plane by tonight."

"That would be so great!" Olivia said. "So, she's expecting us?"

"Not exactly," Bob said. "Maybe we should stop at a florist shop on the way in."

Oh, G.o.d, Olivia thought, this is going to be dreadful. Bob is going to use Gladdie and me as human s.h.i.+elds.

They got off the plane, loaded all their luggage and gifts into the trunk of the waiting sedan, and left the airport. Their driver was a tall handsome African-American man who looked like he could've played pro football.

"Sir? How far is the drive to Cartaret?"

"Just slightly over an hour, Mr. Vasile," the driver said. "Please call me Jim."

"Okay, Jim. Thank you. And you know I need you to wait?"

"Yes, sir, but do you have an idea how long that might be?"

"Could be five minutes, could be a long time. I'm coming down here from New York to get my wife. We had a little spat. She's at her mother's house."

Olivia thought, Bob must be getting nervous because he's talking too much.

"Oh my goodness! Mr. Vasile! I've been in your shoes, brother! I've been in your shoes."

Jim started to laugh and Bob did too.

"I guess I'm not the first guy to ever make his wife lose her mind," Bob said.

"No, sir. You sure aren't. But you'll get it worked out. Just ask the Good Lord to help you."

"That and a florist. Do you know of a good flower shop in Cartaret?"

"If they got one, we'll find it."

All Summer Long: A Novel Part 37

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All Summer Long: A Novel Part 37 summary

You're reading All Summer Long: A Novel Part 37. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Dorothea Benton Frank already has 476 views.

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