Spoonbenders

“Don’t look at me,” Frankie said. “It’s all on her now.”

Loretta shook her head and opened her purse.

Irene said, “Usually we accept only certified checks—”

Loretta slid her a crisp dollar bill.

“But in this case, cash is acceptable.”

The girls were waiting for them in the foyer, where the twins were cutting up magazines. “Malice said we could!” Cassie said.

“I asked for old ones,” Mary Alice said.

“Let’s go see our new house,” Frankie said.

“You mean our old house,” Polly said.

“Same thing,” Frankie said. The feds had been this close to seizing the house. Irene had hinted, though, that Graciella had made some kind of offer of cooperation on the other properties the Pusateris had been pushing through the company, and that had eventually cleared the house for purchase. Now they owned it, free and clear. Not even a mortgage.

They piled into Irene’s Festiva, a car that won the award for most ironic distance between name and driving experience. Not that he could say this out loud; Irene was loaning it to them until they found a replacement for Loretta’s Corolla, and he wasn’t about to look a gift car in the grill. Fortunately, the family was in such a good mood that the cramped cabin couldn’t dampen their spirits. That was, until he went left on Roosevelt instead of right, and Loretta gave him a hard look.

“Just one stop,” he said.

He pulled into the parking lot, carefully avoiding the potholes, and parked in front of the warehouse-like building. The walls were still notionally white, but the years had painted them with grime and rust.

“What are we doing here, Frankie?” Loretta asked.

“We want to go home,” Polly said.

“Come on, take a look, girls.” He went to the metal front doors and fished for the set of keys Irene had lent him. NG Group was handling the property.

“This was quite the hangout back in the day. People in the fifties used to come dressed in ties and skirts. The White Elm was not just a skating rink, it was a destination.” He pushed open the door. A dank smell rolled out.

“It’s a destination for something,” Mary Alice said.

“Picture it,” Frankie said. “The largest, most complete pinball arcade in Chicagoland.”

“Pinball?” Mary Alice said. “No video games?”

“Absolutely not.”

“No teenager is going to come in here if you don’t have video games.”

“I tell you, kid, pinball is poised to make a comeback.”

“We’re not buying this,” Loretta said.

“Let’s take a look around, and then we can talk about it.”

IRENE

“What am I forgetting?” she asked.

“That we were supposed to leave a half hour ago?” her father said.

“Funny man in a hat.”

Graciella and Dad both laughed. They found her distress amusing, maybe because she was usually the most organized person in the building. “Traveling makes me nervous,” Irene said.

“Right, traveling,” Graciella said, and the two of them laughed again. They sat on the couch in the waiting room, leaning into each other. Irene couldn’t figure them out. Graciella swore there was nothing sexual going on, but the two of them went out to dinner together, saw movies, and, most disconcertingly, hung out at her father’s house with all her kids running around. She was happy for her dad, but it struck her as unhealthy for Graciella.

“I know there’s something,” Irene said. She’d loaded her suitcase into the trunk of Dad’s Buick this morning, so that was taken care of. It had to be something from the office.

“Phone charger,” Irene said. She went into her office and unplugged the charger from the wall. Her Motorola had quickly become indispensable. Of course Matty wanted one. She told him to go back to work and save five hundred bucks.

“I’ve got appointments, you know,” Dad said. “People to see.”

“I’m ready, I’m ready,” Irene said.

Graciella hugged her goodbye, and then turned to her father. They kissed. On the lips.

“Thanks for all the help with Frankie,” Dad said.

“The least I could do,” Graciella said. And kissed him a second time.

“Christ,” Irene said. “I’ll be in the car.”

Irene and Dad didn’t talk on the road. They were ten minutes from O’Hare when Dad said, “You’re doing that thing with your face.”

“It’s just my normal face.”

“You used to scowl like that when the boys misbehaved. Or I did. Don’t worry about Matty. I’m going to keep him on the straight and narrow. No marijuana or cocaine, and hardly any hookers.”

“It’s not you I’m mad at,” she said.

“You don’t have to go see him,” Dad said.

“Oh, I do.” She felt like she’d die if she didn’t. This was her third trip to Phoenix since Labor Day.

“I mean he could come here. He’s a hero! Took the gun right out of Nick’s hands.”

“Nick barreled into him and the gun went flying.”

“Sure, but Joshua grabbed it. That’s hero material, my girl. Tell him to come back and we can double-date at Palmer’s.”

“That’s not going to happen, Dad.” She didn’t want Joshua coming back to her house, not yet. If anything non-normal happened—anything at all—he’d have permanent PTSD.

“Fine. Move there, then,” Dad said. “You’re young.”

“I love my job.”

“Pfff.”