Marnie's foot snagged on a raised piece of tile and her arms flew out in front of her. The tray hit the table and the lemonades toppled, drenching everything in their path, including the toddler in the booster seat. As her knee scraped the floor of Carly's Steakhouse, she saw the docile baby's face turn the color of scalded skin as it howled.
She tried to apologize to the father, but he urged her to “just get some towels, lady.” Marnie turned and shuffled into the back room, smashing into another waiter and knocking the soup he held onto the floor. The manager put a hand on her shoulder and escorted her to his office.
She perched on the edge of his desk, waiting for him to ream her another one.
“Marnie, I think your time is up here.”
“But—”
“Since you started, you've broken two hundred dollars' worth of dishes. I'm going to have to comp the family outside, since there's lemonade all over their food. I just can't afford to keep you.”
Marnie unbuttoned the top of her blouse and leaned forward.
“Come on, give me another chance.” She rubbed her hand against his on the desk.
His head jerked back and he fixed her with a frown. “What do you think you're doing? Go get your check and get the hell out of here.”
She threw the keys at the wall and collapsed on the floor in a fit of tears. That's the fifth job you've lost in six months. What the hell is wrong with you? She wasn't cut out for this. She couldn't do it. She ran her hands through her hair and looked out the window of her bedroom. The roll of ocean waves quieted the tears. Perhaps all she needed was a swim.
“Fumiyo, where are my bags?” Danny said.
“Um, they are lost,” his new assistant, Fumiyo, said.
“How is that even possible?”
“I flew with your bags on a commercial flight to save you money.”
“Fumiyo, I have no clothes to perform in, so who gives a flying rat's ass if you saved me money?” Danny reached out to grab her shoulders, but stopped and clenched his fist to his sides instead. “From now on, you must put my bags in first class. Okay?” He flashed her a tight smile. “Now, why don't you go downstairs and make sure the merchandise table is set and ready.”
Danny sighed as she shuffled out of the room. Training a new assistant was not easy.
When the show was over, he walked to the merchandise table and started signing. The five hundred plus crowd marked this as the largest one to date. When his marker ran out, he held out his hand for Fumiyo to give him another. He gripped the marker and began to write, but stopped as he realized it was a pencil.
“Fumiyo, I need another marker.”
“There are no more,” she said.
He pulled a hand over his face. “Honey, how long did you think this one was going to last?”
Fumiyo's shoulders rose and her long horse‐shaped face scrunched together as if to say ‘I don't know'. Danny gritted his teeth, forced himself to smile as he laughed and joked with his fans, whilst begging them for a pen or marker.
Once the signing was over, Jackson, Fumiyo, and Danny headed back to the penthouse. Danny rushed to his bedroom and sank into the over starched sheets. He closed his eyes and opened them again to Fumiyo's angry voice.
“Mr. Roland, I work hard for you and you are constantly mean to me. I try and try to make you happy, but you always yell at me.”
Danny listened to her drone on and on until the headache over his eye threatened to explode. “Fumiyo.”
“You do not like my eggs, but I am not your maid.”
“Fumiyo!”
She jumped back, startled by the hackle of his voice.
“You're right. I'm sorry.”
A big smile appeared on her face. “I have made you a peace offering. It's a pie, because I heard it is your favorite.”
She brought her arm from behind her back to reveal a miniature pie.
Danny thanked her and scooped a slice into his mouth. Chunks of pie hit her face as he scrambled to spit it out.
“Can't you read?!”
She wiped the pie off with the hem of her shirt then fixed him with a death glare. “I read very well.”
“Well then, you should've seen the sign on the refrigerator that said I'm allergic to peanuts!”
Danny shooed her and her pie out of the room. He gave himself a shot to prevent his face from swelling to the size of a blimp and began to settle in for sleep again. The knock on his door prevented him.
“Sir, I found this in my room. It is too big for me to wear. Do you want me to donate it to Goodwill?”
Fumiyo held a silver baby doll dress in her hands. Danny reached out and fondled the hem. It was the dress he'd bought for Marnie. In her rush to leave, she'd left it behind. Why had she been so eager to leave?
“No, leave it here. I'll take care of it.”
Danny took the dress and put it in his closet. Marnie, why did you leave me?
He woke before the sun rose and he settled at the baby grand. Thoughts of Marnie ran through his mind as he began to sing about missed connections. He looked up and saw Fumiyo with her elbows perched on the piano, hands propping her face. The large chocolate, almond shaped eyes stared at him.
“What do you think, Fumiyo?”
“I do not like this one. I like the one about sex on the beach.” She scrunched her nose to an imaginary stench. “This will not go on the album. will it?”
Danny smiled at her. “No. Fumiyo, it will not.”
He felt her lips brush his ear. “I like it; it has substance for a change,” Marnie whispered.
Yes, I thought you would.
He closed his eyes and remembered the kiss they shared on the piano. She was everywhere in this apartment, and he just wanted to forget about her.
“Coffee, one hundred and ninety‐five degrees,” Fumiyo said.
He winced as she placed the mug of coffee atop his baby grand. That's another thing Fumiyo got wrong. He hated glass rings on his piano.
He jolted at the feel of a cold nose on his ankle and turned around. Mickey rolled onto his back, a lopsided grin on his face. Danny watched him, waiting for Fumiyo to do something.
“Have you taken him on his walk?”
She nodded yes, but still she did nothing. Danny turned around on the bench and proceeded to rub his belly—a job Marnie normally did. He noticed his coat was matted since no one had taken the time to comb it, again something Marnie did without being asked.
Danny sighed.
“Is something wrong, Mr. Roland?”
“Bring me his comb.”
After spending some quality time taking care of his dog, Danny took a long shower to rid himself of Mickey's fur. He left the stall and toweled off. In his closet, he looked on the top shelf for a shoe box and pulled down a lime green container and opened it to reveal a row of neatly stacked photos. He pulled one out. It was a picture of him and Emily on a yacht he used to own. Danny stroked the picture. It was one of the happiest times of his life. She was never coming back, no matter how much he missed her, and neither was Marnie. He placed the picture back in the box and ran a finger over the tops of each of the photos. He placed the top back on the box, then went back into the closet and grabbed the silver baby doll dress.
“Mr. Roland, where are you going?” Fumiyo asked.
“Home.”
He hopped on the elevator with the dress and shoe box in each hand.
Upon exiting the elevator, he threw the shoe box and dress in a nearby trash can and hailed a cab.