Chapter 31

Zona worked the Friday night shift. Instead of going to bed when she got home, she fussed over the next day’s lunch for Arnold. Just as he’d done at Garnish’s, Emm sat and watched the preparations. Riley lay quietly at his feet. Emm was beginning to grow fond of the dog. While Zona was at the hospital, Riley sprawled beside Emm as he read, napped, or ate the healthy, homemade meals his daughter left for him. Zona was training the dog to bring Emm his slippers.

First, Zona made two pans each of lasagna and apple cobbler, along with tossed salad and garlic bread. Next, she spread Brie on crackers, then topped them off with slivers of salmon and halved cherry tomatoes. Emm noticed the age wrinkles beginning to form around her eyes as she painstakingly sliced and arranged the canapes on a platter. Finally, Zona set out vodka, Galliano, a pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice, one cocktail glass, and two tumblers on the sideboard. “Arnold loves his Harvey Wallbangers,” she explained. “I don’t drink, and you’re under orders not to, but I bought us a bottle of sparkling cider to toast the meeting of my two favorite men.”

Half an hour after he was expected, Arnold’s key turned in the front lock. Zona raced to the door. Not Riley. He pawed at the back door, eager to be let out. Emm opened it, wishing he could flee too, then turned his walker around to study Arnold. Zona’s beau was Emm’s height, with graying hair combed over a sizable bald spot. He wore faded blue jeans, a peasant shirt, and painted beads. A paunch bulged beneath his woven poncho. Emm judged him to be in his mid-sixties, as Bruna had said, and despite his attire, clearly too old to have grown up in the hippie free-love era. Emm disdained people like him, but with today’s reverence for youth, men who neither dressed nor acted their age were everywhere. He wondered where Zona had found him.

Arnold twirled Zona until her short skirt flared out. “Doesn’t she look great?” he asked. “Not a day older than she looked in high school, I bet.” Emm, who had no recollection of his daughter at that age, replied that Zona was indeed a lovely woman. “She’s my girl,” Arnold said.

Emm knew that older men often chose younger girlfriends to prove their virility. He’d never been tempted. With a house full of children, he had a lifetime’s evidence of his manhood. He assumed Arnold was childless, although Zona hadn’t said. It was none of his business.

Arnold collapsed in a chair. “I almost didn’t make it,” he said, tossing his poncho toward the couch. “My stomach was acting up again, but I didn’t want to disappoint you.” He gave Zona a small package of dog treats. “Liver flavored. I thought Riley would like them.” She beamed as though he’d offered her a slice of the moon and emptied half a dozen treats in the dog’s food dish.

Zona handed Arnold his drink and poured two tumblers of cider. “I want to propose a toast.” Without waiting, Arnold took a big swallow and pulled the plate of canapes toward him. Zona froze, the tumbler raised in her hand. Emm clinked his glass against hers and drank. Zona smiled weakly, took a sip, and carried her cider into the kitchen. Hearing the water run, Emm wondered if she was masking the sound of crying. By the time Zona came out with the rest of the food, Arnold had eaten most of the salmon.

“Nice snacks.” He turned to Emm. “The kid’s as fine a cook as my mother.” Zona put the last canape in Arnold’s mouth and said it was sweet of him to say so. “Mom is near ninety,” Arnold told Emm. “She’s still in her own place, but it’s not safe for her to cook anymore. I take good care of her. I’m a good son. Her only child. A daughter wouldn’t have treated her better.”

“I lost my oldest boy in the war,” said Emm. “If he were alive, he’d look after me.”

Zona’s lips quivered. “That’s my job now, Daddy.” She looked with dismay at the empty hors d’oeuvres plate, as if suddenly aware that she’d just failed.

Arnold pulled the lasagna pan toward him. “You’re taking care of me, Baby.” He helped himself to a large piece and pointed to the bread. Zona tore off a hunk and handed it to him. For a man with an upset stomach, thought Emm, Arnold’s appetite was as healthy as a horse’s.

Zona nibbled at her salad. “How did your meeting go the other night, Honey?”

Arnold looked puzzled. Zona said she meant the last-minute meeting on the night he was supposed to come for dinner. “Oh, fine,” Arnold muttered before stuffing his mouth.

Emm cut a square of lasagna as big as Arnold’s although it was more than he could eat. “Zona tells me you’re a businessman. You broker deals between companies.”

“Something like that.” Arnold mopped up tomato sauce with his bread.

“I was a salesman,” said Emm, “and a pretty good deal-maker myself. Cars. New ones.”

“Easier than selling used ones,” said Arnold. “With old cars, customers want to look under the hood, even if they don’t know the first thing about engines. That’s why I never let my clients examine one another’s affairs too closely. They don’t know what they’re looking for either. I’d rather they let me call all the shots.” He took a second slice of lasagna and held out his glass.

Zona brought him another Harvey Wallbanger. She pushed away her nearly full plate and hesitantly asked, “Honey, after lunch, could you look at the hose connecting the humidifier to the furnace? It clogged at the end of last winter and you promised to fix it before this winter began.”

Arnold sighed loudly and chewed bread with his mouth open. “I’ll do it next week when I’m feeling better. Besides, what’s the rush? It’s still October.”

“I’ll fix it,” said Emm. “The weather’s already cold enough for the heat to kick on.” He was actually looking forward to making the small repairs that he’d long ago stopped doing in his own house. He’d ask Zona if it was okay for Darold to drop off Foy to act as his “assistant.”

Arnold protested that he was going to fix the hose just like he’d promised, but Emm easily spotted a con man. Arnold had no intention of making good on his word. Only Zona, who hadn’t looked under the hood, could believe that this old model would run as advertised.

As soon as Arnold had eaten dessert, he pushed back from the table and said he had to go. “Business beckons.” Zona packed him a week’s worth of meals—the second trays of lasagna and cobbler she’d made last night and frozen left-over pot roast from the dinner he’d cancelled. “As long as you’re cooking old-folks food for your father, be a doll and make extra for me to take to my mother.”

“Sure, Honey, no trouble. These will get you started.” Zona added a few other containers from the refrigerator and put her arms around him. “Call me?” she asked in a plaintive voice.

Arnold pecked her on the cheek and mumbled, “Mmm.” He gave Emm a firm handshake, put on his poncho, and headed toward the door. “Oh, Baby, you haven’t forgotten about coming with me to the executive dinner on Tuesday? If the client thinks you’re my wife, he’ll trust me more.”

Zona frowned. “I told you that I’d be coming off a double shift and would be too tired.”

“And I told you to either cancel or trade the second shift. This meeting is important.”

Arnold was a man who didn’t take no for an answer, so Emm wasn’t surprised when his daughter said yes, she’d change her schedule. While she walked him to his car, Emm hoped the relationship wouldn’t last through the winter. “Arnold wears love beads but gives out no love. He makes the peace sign but isn’t a dove. Arnold’s a devil who is mean to sweet Zona. He sprouts horns; she an angel’s corona.” Clever as he found his own verse, Emm vowed to keep his opinion to himself. He’d learned with Erissa that it was dangerous to tell his kids how to improve their lives. It could have unintended consequences for them. Worse, the upshot could backfire on him.

***

Zona washed the dishes. Riley, having turned up his nose at the liver treats, stretched out beside her on the worn linoleum tiles. “I’m sorry Arnold wasn’t feeling better, Daddy. And that he had to leave before the two of you got to talk more. I hope you still liked him.”

Emm dried the lasagna pan three times before answering. “He’s colorful. An interesting character.” He waffled on the vow he’d taken minutes before, then added. “Maybe a mite pushy. Keep looking. You don’t want to take the first car off the lot.”

Zona stiffened. “He’s hardly my first.”

“I only meant ...”

“Arnold is good to me. He compliments my cooking. He says I’m pretty. He calls me his girl.” Riley stood and positioned himself between Emm and Zona, as if to protect her.

Emm backed down. He’d been at Zona’s place less than a week, and hers was the last set of wheels left on his lot. He searched for something nice to say, changing the topic at the same time. “Arnold works hard. I like that. A man needs to keep busy. You’re too young to remember, but in the Depression so many were out of work. It wasn’t their fault, but they felt like failures.”

Zona patted Riley’s head, and the dog, an eye still on Emm, lay down again. “I’m glad I don’t remember that awful time, but I wish I had more memories of me and Mommy from then.”

Relieved to have peace restored between them, Emm searched the scraps he’d retained from Zona’s childhood. “You loved animals and begged to have a pet, but my mother said that our home was already a madhouse without one.”

Zona heated two mugs of cider and they moved to the table. Riley followed, brushing against Zona with every step. “Was I very disappointed?”

“Your mother tried hard to make it up to you. She took you to Riverdale Zoo. It was like an old farm on the banks of the Don River, and they allowed children to pet the animals.”

“Riverdale! I still like to go there. I’m the only person over twelve who pets the animals.” Riley put his head on Zona’s lap. She stroked his head. “Did you ever go to the zoo with us?”

Emm wrapped his hands around the warm mug. “No. I wish I had.”

“Me too. Was it just me and Mommy or did the other kids come with us?”

“Your mother picked one special thing to do alone with each of you. It wasn’t easy for her to find time, and I admit I wasn’t much help, but your grandmother pitched in when she could.”

“I don’t recall much about Grammy either. Mostly, I remember Bruna and Darold taking care of the rest of us. Of course, that was probably after Mommy died.”

“They still look after the family.” Emm recalled Bruna’s harsh criticism of Zona. “It must be hard for them to think of you as a grown-up. Do you still think of them as parents?”

“Not Darold. He’s what he is, a nice big brother.” Zona gulped her cider, then shuddered. “But Bruna is scary, like the wicked stepmother in a fairy tale.” Her hands flew to her mouth.

Emm nodded to reassure her it was okay to go on.

“Every Sunday afternoon, I fight with myself about whether to go to her house, but half of the time, I’m too much of a puddle of pudding to drive into town.”

Emm smiled at the alliteration. Foy would have liked it too. “How about your other brothers and sisters? Erissa is closer to you in age than Bruna.” He couldn’t remember their birth dates, but “E” came several years later in the alphabet than “B.” Both Erissa and Zona had grown up without a mother’s guidance during their teenage years. That might draw them together now.

Zona shook her head. “I have nothing to do with Erissa. When I was little, I watched from the sidelines as she got all the good attention. When I got older, all I heard was the bad gossip. Either way, she didn’t seem part of my life, and she certainly had no room in hers for me.”

“You know she’s back in rehab?” Emm studied Zona’s face. There was no sign of concern, but neither was there disgust. “When she gets out, you might try to offer her a hand.”

“Why? She’s got Bruna and Darold.”

“They’re too much like parents.” A role Emm had bungled with Erissa, twice. “What she needs is a sister. You’re a nurse. Taking care of others comes naturally. And even though you’re younger, it would be the grown-up thing to do.” It might even impress Bruna, Emm thought, but after looking at Riley’s skeptical half-open eyelids, he vowed again to stop giving advice.

Zona scratched behind the dog’s ears. “I’ve read that animals can help people in recovery. Maybe I’ll ask Erissa if I can bring Riley over to visit her.” She looked to Emm for approval.

He smiled. The dog closed his eyes and let Emm pat its head. “How did you come up with the name Riley?”

“I didn’t. That’s what he was called in the shelter where I found him. He’s easygoing and lazy, like the character in that old television show, The Life of Riley. The name fits him. How did you come up with mine?”

“I didn’t. It was your mother’s idea.” Emm thought it wisest not to say why. “We gave all of you odd monikers. I’ve been asking everyone what they thought of their names growing up.”

Zona bit her lip. “I didn’t like being at the end of the alphabet, like zebra. I was the last kid in class to get a turn. It was okay if we were being sent to the blackboard for arithmetic problems.” She frowned. “But if it was for something good, like picking a cookie, all the big ones with the most chocolate chips had been taken by the time my name was called.”

“Poor Zona.” Emm hoped Izora was listening. This was one problem among their children that he was not responsible for.

Zona smiled slyly. “But some teachers felt sorry for me and let me take all the cookies that were left. So, in the end, I beat out everyone from Albert to Yvonne.” She thought a minute. “The one thing I envied Erissa for, even when she was pregnant and strung out, was her name. It’s as pretty as she used to be.” She gazed into Riley’s adoring eyes. “Maybe this time rehab will stick, and she’ll be pretty again. If that makes her feel good about herself, it will help her stay clean.”

“I knew you’d understand,” said Emm, thinking what a good nurse Zona must be. “I’m sorry you were too young to get to know Arvil before he was killed.” Just saying his son’s name was painful. Sweet as Zona was, Emm wished it were a grown-up Arvil sitting opposite him now.

“I heard a lot about him. He was pretty much idolized by the adults. The kids too, at first.” Zona squirmed.

“And later?” Emm knew by now not to be surprised unless Zona had a new revelation.

“The usual ‘big brother was a bully’ stuff. After Arvil was killed, everyone from Bruna on down watched the adults to know what was okay to say about him. As they got older, they felt freer to speak their minds, especially when it was just the kids talking among themselves. I didn’t have much to add, so they probably forgot I was there and let it all out. I was a good listener.”

“Did your brothers and sisters ever talk about the adults when they were alone?”

“They missed Mommy, but they never said anything bad about her.” Zona grimaced. “I’m sorry, but they weren’t always so nice about Grammy. She was bossy. Bruna takes after her.”

Emm gripped his empty mug with both hands. “What about me?”

“Honestly, Daddy, I don’t remember them saying much of anything about you.”

That stung worse than criticism. It was as if Emm didn’t exist for his children. It made sense, though, didn’t it? All those years, they never really existed for him.

Zona wrapped her hands around his. “I’m off on Wednesday. Do you want to go to the zoo with me? Riverdale has golf carts so you wouldn’t have to walk. You can ride around.”

Emm hesitated. It would be nice to get out one more time before the snow came, and for something other than a doctor’s appointment. On the other hand, he’d look like a doddering old man being taken for a spin in the fresh air by his hired caregiver. “Won’t you be too tired for the zoo after a double shift the day before, not to mention dinner with Arnold that evening?”

“I’ve got all the energy in the world for you.” Zona cleared the table. “I’ll ask Arnold if he’s free to join us too.” Riley snorted. “On second thought, let’s make it just the two us.”

Hours later, in bed, Emm invited Izora to turn the date into a threesome. He’d become as strange as Garnish chatting with Helma, yet after lying awake that first night at Zona’s, Emm had found that talking to his wife helped him fall asleep. They were spending time together, alone, after all and Emm didn’t care whether their children approved of the bedtime whispering or not.