Given that Akiri’s father controls the purse strings and finances his apparel company, I don’t think he’s going to dislodge that suckerfish grip any time soon.
“Run while they’re distracted.” Winona can’t hide the merriment in her voice. She, Alice and I make a break for it, dodging into the crowd.
“Their kids will be pretty,” Winona muses as we hurry along.
“But badly dressed,” Alice pipes up.
I lead them to the back of the store so we can take a private elevator up to the children’s department.
“So,” I say cheerfully as we pile in to the elevator, “you’re a spontaneous free spirit, right?”
Winona looks at me suspiciously. “I…guess so?”
“And you love surprises?”
Now Alice looks curious.
“What kind of surprises?” Winona asks suspiciously. “I mean, arguably a hockey-masked serial killer popping out of your closet is a surprise. So what kind of surprise are we talking about?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”
This was a good idea. I am an ideas man; ideas are my thing. There was nothing wrong with this idea, I tell myself firmly.
Winona looks at Alice for support. “He’s making me nervous. What is he up to?”
“I have no idea.” Alice skewers me with a suspicious gaze. “You’re not going to publicly propose, are you? I adore Winona, but today would just be a lousy day for it. Too much else going on.”
“Yes it would,” Winona agrees.
“I’m not an idiot,” I say huffily.
The elevator comes to a halt. Instead of answering, I hurry from the elevator, with Winona and Alice hurrying to keep up. This was a good idea, I repeat in my head, as I throw open the door to the children’s department and a scene of semi-controlled chaos.
Kids are swarming the new gymnasium playset that spans the length of the department, scrambling through the interactive play areas, and shrieking their lungs out. Jorge and his friends are standing underneath the gymnasium shooting each other with water pistols. The hell? How did they smuggle those in?
Jorge pauses and looks right at me, and waves his water pistol with a smirk of triumph. I am forced to reply with a reluctant thumbs up. Defeated by a mere child.
He points both his fingers at his eyes, then points one at me. I’m watching you.
Edna, Clarita, Jemma, Nestor, and the rest of the 47th Street crowd are gathered by a buffet table. Thérèse, is talking to Edna and shooting me the occasional cold, angry look. That woman really does not like me.
“Winona! There you are, peach-pie!” A delighted trill snags our attention. Winona’s mother Anna Lou pops out from behind Jemma and waves at her.
Nearby are Winona’s father, Bo; Anna Lou’s sister, Loretta, who is alternately gawking and snapping pictures with her cell phone; and a group of women with big hair and suspicious expressions. That’ll be the Kut & Kurl ladies.
Henry is standing with the group, politely chatting with a woman with a giant pouf of frosted blonde curls. I had him accompany the limo driver to pick them up from the airport.
“What have you done?” Winona sounds dismayed, which wasn’t the intended result. Delighted, grateful, eager to reward me with sexual favors…that’s more like the reaction I was going for.
“Invited your parents and aunt a few of their friends? As a surprise? Paid for their flight and invited them to stay at my place? And put one of my limos at their disposal so they can see the sights?” I’m not sure why I’m phrasing facts as questions. Probably because I’m realizing I don’t know if this was a great idea or not.
“You what now?” Winona’s voice climbs the octave scale.
“Uhh…wow,” Alice says in alarm, eyes widening. Super helpful. She glances around the room and spots her husband and daughter, who wave at us from a mini zoo play area. Then she looks at me and shakes her head ever so slightly. “You two need to work this out. Whatever ‘this’ is. I’m going to go find my family.” She hurries off, leaving me wondering if I might possibly have had a bad idea for once.
“Blake.” Winona’s eyes have gone saucer huge. “You really should have asked me.”
“I’m sorry,” I say uneasily. “Did I mess up?”
“I don’t know how to answer that question.” She rubs at her temples with her index fingers. “I haven’t seen them in ages, I desperately miss them–”
“I know!” I say, a little defensively. “You talk about them all the time! And you also talk about how Loretta always makes your mother feel small, and I thought this would be the perfect chance to show your parents some support.”
“I know you meant well.” She lets out a hiss of breath. “The thing is…you’re getting their hopes up. This is a big thing, Blake. It’s huge. In their eyes – don’t run for your life, now – this is as good as saying we’re engaged.”
“I understand that my inviting them here signals a very big commitment. And I’m not running.” I run my fingers lightly down her arm and stare into her eyes. I hope I’m telegraphing the right message. I’m in this for the long haul. There will be a ring in her future.
“Well. Let’s do this.” She stalks off, moving towards them without looking back to see if I’m following. I hurry to catch up.
I stand back and watch as she greets her parents with enormous hugs. Her mother kisses her, gets lipstick on her face, and scrubs it off with a tissue. Winona scrunches her face and looks embarrassed but happy. Her aunt and the Kut & Kurl ladies look her up and down, examining her tapestry-print dress critically, and I’m standing just close enough to hear them saying things like, “Well, isn’t that…different,” and, “She always did have such a unique way of dressing.”
Winona stiffens, and her eyes flash with hurt. I briefly wonder what would happen if I knocked over one of the catty bitches; would the rest of them go down like bowling pins? Probably best not to find out. Unless they keep upsetting her.
“That’s what they wear in New York,” her mother says sharply. “You ladies wouldn’t recognize style if it bit you in the aspidistra.”
They mutter amongst themselves, looking mildly chastened.
Then Anna Lou turns her laser sights on me, and she hurries over and grabs me, crushing me in a rib-crunching hug. Bo Jeffers grabs my hand and pumps it so hard my arm nearly flies out of its socket.
“Son!” Anna Lou Jeffers cries out happily.
“Mom!” Winona’s face flames red. “His name is Blake.”
Her mother looks at her reproachfully. “Well, he’s ‘son’ to me. And those warts have cleared right up. You can hardly even tell.”
“Warts?” Loretta and her crew stand a few feet away, giving us a little space, but they’re all peering with fascination now.
Anna Lou beams so widely her face looks like it’s ready to split. “The electric on our guest house is all finished,” she informs Winona. “Well, not a guest house, it’s your house, of course. You may want to add a room when the first grandbaby comes, but you should have at least a year, I’m thinking. So…you’ll be commuting to New York, I imagine?” she adds, to me. “The airport’s only two hours away.”