course, his Italian mother didn’t fit that mold, and she enjoyed her Palisades home where Archie would have a choice of several bedrooms—his, Christine’s, or Beatrice’s. His mom had redecorated his sisters’ rooms, but his looked pretty much the same, minus the teenage clutter. His mom said seeing his old room made her happy. Mike felt just the opposite.
He didn’t want Archie moving into that glee-less neighborhood and possibly his old bedroom. His granddad needed a place to build a new life, and Mike had an empty room that needed filling.
Working out the rest was easy. Archie said he’d step outside to smoke his evening pipe, a senior service would pick up his laundry, and he hadn’t lived with anyone since Reagan was President so get over it.
“Now that I turned off that damn funeral music,” Archie said, setting aside Mike’s phone. “Shall I make my famous tartar sauce?”
“Absolutely. There’s a new jar of relish in the fridge.”
Archie swiveled his walker and opened the refrigerator door. “Beatrice called. Said you’re upset with her over a call she made to your old phone company.”
“Does she keep anything to herself?” Mike gave his head a disbelieving shake. “Yes, I was upset with her.”
Archie retrieved the jar of mayonnaise and relish, set them in is walker basket and swiveled back to the counter. “I need to steal some of your lemon juice.” He accepted Mike’s cut half lemon. “She also said Maggie was fired.”
Mike felt a jab of sadness. “That’s right. She’ll miss the work, and God knows I’ll miss her, but maybe it’s time to take her off the front lines.”
“Happens to the best. If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears.”
Mike sliced the skin off a second piece of salmon and told him about his afternoon meeting with Harley, the Timepiece Arsonist news, and how Beatrice’s meddling resulted in his boss pulling the subpoena request for Mike’s old phone records. While at the fish store he called Beatrice, repeated everything Harley said, and told her to mind her own business.
Archie made a thoughtful noise. “That girl’s fervor could drive a saint to drink. On the other hand, sometimes Beatrice moves mountains. Like when she saved the store.”
Twelve years ago at a family dinner, a glum Archie announced Day’s Groceries would soon be closing. Nobody shops anymore at corner grocery stores, they prefer those big stores with lots of selections and cheaper prices. I can understand that. What hurts is I wanted to pass on the business to the next generation, as my father and grandfather did...instead I’ll be closing the doors and, with my son’s help, find a buyer for the place.
Catarina tearily reminisced about her father and uncle’s deli, Viotto Brothers, once located down the block from Day’s Groceries, where at fifteen she met “her Kenny.” Then Kenneth Day, Archie’s only child, paid tribute to his grandfather, Monte Elias Day, who built the store with his own hands, brick by brick, after the Great Depression.
Irritated Mike then, just as it did today, that his dad gave such speeches as if he cared so deeply about the family. Caring men didn’t leave their families for a twenty-something waitress, as Mike’s had when he was fifteen.
As the family mourned the passing of Day’s Groceries, Beatrice, then twenty and majoring in business at college, proclaimed she knew how to fix this. Citing her business studies research, she believed a gourmet sandwich shop at that location would be a moneymaker. And she was right. Today Beatrice and her partner Alice ran Day’s Gourmet Sandwiches, a trendy eatery with a successful retail business selling a line of Day’s Gourmet Condiments and jars of “Catarina’s Marinara.”
“In all seriousness, I’m impressed with Beatrice’s business savvy. My sister can indeed move mountains.” The salmon sizzled as Mike set it in the hot frying pan. “Wish I could move just one.”
“Paula,”
He didn’t want Archie moving into that glee-less neighborhood and possibly his old bedroom. His granddad needed a place to build a new life, and Mike had an empty room that needed filling.
Working out the rest was easy. Archie said he’d step outside to smoke his evening pipe, a senior service would pick up his laundry, and he hadn’t lived with anyone since Reagan was President so get over it.
“Now that I turned off that damn funeral music,” Archie said, setting aside Mike’s phone. “Shall I make my famous tartar sauce?”
“Absolutely. There’s a new jar of relish in the fridge.”
Archie swiveled his walker and opened the refrigerator door. “Beatrice called. Said you’re upset with her over a call she made to your old phone company.”
“Does she keep anything to herself?” Mike gave his head a disbelieving shake. “Yes, I was upset with her.”
Archie retrieved the jar of mayonnaise and relish, set them in is walker basket and swiveled back to the counter. “I need to steal some of your lemon juice.” He accepted Mike’s cut half lemon. “She also said Maggie was fired.”
Mike felt a jab of sadness. “That’s right. She’ll miss the work, and God knows I’ll miss her, but maybe it’s time to take her off the front lines.”
“Happens to the best. If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears.”
Mike sliced the skin off a second piece of salmon and told him about his afternoon meeting with Harley, the Timepiece Arsonist news, and how Beatrice’s meddling resulted in his boss pulling the subpoena request for Mike’s old phone records. While at the fish store he called Beatrice, repeated everything Harley said, and told her to mind her own business.
Archie made a thoughtful noise. “That girl’s fervor could drive a saint to drink. On the other hand, sometimes Beatrice moves mountains. Like when she saved the store.”
Twelve years ago at a family dinner, a glum Archie announced Day’s Groceries would soon be closing. Nobody shops anymore at corner grocery stores, they prefer those big stores with lots of selections and cheaper prices. I can understand that. What hurts is I wanted to pass on the business to the next generation, as my father and grandfather did...instead I’ll be closing the doors and, with my son’s help, find a buyer for the place.
Catarina tearily reminisced about her father and uncle’s deli, Viotto Brothers, once located down the block from Day’s Groceries, where at fifteen she met “her Kenny.” Then Kenneth Day, Archie’s only child, paid tribute to his grandfather, Monte Elias Day, who built the store with his own hands, brick by brick, after the Great Depression.
Irritated Mike then, just as it did today, that his dad gave such speeches as if he cared so deeply about the family. Caring men didn’t leave their families for a twenty-something waitress, as Mike’s had when he was fifteen.
As the family mourned the passing of Day’s Groceries, Beatrice, then twenty and majoring in business at college, proclaimed she knew how to fix this. Citing her business studies research, she believed a gourmet sandwich shop at that location would be a moneymaker. And she was right. Today Beatrice and her partner Alice ran Day’s Gourmet Sandwiches, a trendy eatery with a successful retail business selling a line of Day’s Gourmet Condiments and jars of “Catarina’s Marinara.”
“In all seriousness, I’m impressed with Beatrice’s business savvy. My sister can indeed move mountains.” The salmon sizzled as Mike set it in the hot frying pan. “Wish I could move just one.”
“Paula,”
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