Today's Special is the Jerk-Chicken Salad - Chapter 3: At Least a Glass of Water
The bright yellow shack had a jaunty green and white awning and a large white sign painted with whimsical pink lettering. The outsized sign said "Giovanni's, The Charm of Italy, Fine Italian, American and Bahamian Cuisine. Warm, Friendly and Cozy Atmosphere. Prompt Service with a Friendly Smile. Family Owned and Operated."
"Giovanni's," said Betty, "with Italian, American, and Bahamian cuisine! That's hilarious."
"It is?" said Hilda.
"I have to take a picture of it for Gio," said Betty, pulling out her phone. "He would think it was funny."
"He would?" said Hilda, wide-eyed. "Why?"
"Only a moron would put that many cuisines into a restaurant smaller than a phone booth."
"It looks perfectly fine," said Hilda.
"It's so pathetic! Do you think it even seats twenty? Gio would get a good laugh out seeing this place." Betty bit her lip and frowned, "Except I don't have his address."
"Okay, forget it," said Hilda, gulping a breath.
"Man, I would literally kill for one of Gio's sandwiches right now."
"I'm hungry too," said Hilda. "But then again, I'm hungry all the time now."
"Too bad I have to lose more weight," said Betty. "Oh, wait, it doesn't matter now."
"Aren't you done with the dieting yet? Betty, you look anorexic!"
"It's never enough. Daniel is around beautiful models all day, every day. And I know they are throwing themselves at him. How can I compete? I have to be more beautiful. I have to be perfect. I was thinking of surprising him by getting a nose job for his birthday."
"Honestly, that's awful. Does he want that? Why don't you talk to me anymore? We've hardly spoken since you got engaged."
"We're so busy with work and travel. And he doesn't like to spend time visiting relatives. He says they are a curse to be endured only when it's unavoidable. He says, 'you can pick your friends but not your relatives and that's the problem with them'."
"Really," said Hilda, disapprovingly.
"It's not his fault. It was the way he was raised. Someday he'll come around."
"You've changed so much for him. What's he done for you?"
Betty pushed her scooter, staring straight ahead. She bit her lip.
"Why are you here?" Hilda waved her arms around, pointing to the palm trees and lush vegetation.
Betty stopped and stared back at Hilda.
"Tell me," demanded Hilda, "How has he changed for you?"
"No comment."
"Betty if you act like a doormat, he will treat you like a doormat. Don't give in all the time."
"I'm trying to be perfect."
"And how's it working so far?"
Hilda focused a piercing gaze on Betty, and waited.
"This is why I should talk to you, isn't it?"
"Bingo."
"Okay, you're right. I was wrong not to call. I'm sorry I didn't return your calls."
"Finally!" said Hilda. "Sometimes I wonder what you see in him, besides the money."
"He got me the job I love," said Betty. "He's very charming. He supports my ambitions. We love to travel. I love Daniel. Although, obviously, not at this moment."
"Yeah, I know. What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. I want to strangle him but I'm pretty sure if I did it wouldn't help the situation."
Hilda and Betty pushed their scooters up to the entrance to the park. When they were directly across the road from the restaurant, Betty stopped and turned to look at it.
"You know, I haven't seen Gio since … I don't remember," said Betty. "I never heard where he went after he closed the deli."
"Did you ever try to find out?"
Betty took out her phone, preparing to take a picture.
"The last time I saw Gio was the day I went in to tell him I was engaged to Daniel. And that was over a year and a half ago. He said his wife was looking at places but he didn't say where. I got the feeling he didn't want me to know."
Betty pointed he phone at the restaurant. "I need to get closer."
"Are you sure you want to take a picture for Gio?" said Hilda.
"No," said Betty, lowering her phone. "Of course not. I'm an idiot."
"Oh?"
"Oh god, I can't have a picture of a restaurant named Giovanni's on my phone," said Betty. "If that got out it might cause a problem."
"It could?"
"You're so naïve," said Betty. "You don't realize how lucky you are."
"I'm lucky?"
"You don't have to worry about how everything can be twisted against you."
"You're paranoid!"
"Self defense. Look, I have a hundred messages from you-know-who," said Betty, staring at her phone and pushing buttons. "Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete. …"
"You aren't even going to listen to what he has to say?"
"No. I know what he's going to say and I don't want to hear it. Oh, here's one from the 'Good Morning New York' show. I'll save that one for later."
"What will you say to them?"
"I haven't got a clue," said Betty angrily. "I'll have to think of something polite."
"What's with the attitude? I hardly know you anymore."
Betty pushed several locks of hot, damp hair off her face. "I can't handle what's going on. The tabloid stories are going to be horrible."
"But they always are! You never let it get to you before."
"This is worse," said Betty. "This is the worst of the worst."
"Well, put it out of your mind. Let's leave the scooters here and head down to the water."
Betty laid her scooter down in the middle of the walkway to the beach.
"You're going to leave it right there? The parking area is over there."
"Stop bugging me," cried Betty. "I can't push this piece of junk another step."
"You're going to make everyone walk around it?"
"I don't care. I have to go in that restaurant. It'll be air-conditioned."
"We can't. It's closed," said Hilda, pointing to the sign hanging on the restaurant's front door.
They were close enough to the shack to hear cheerful danceable music, a steel drum band playing a syncopated calypso rhythm, emanating from its open windows, and the sound of a man singing along to it.
"Someone's in there," said Betty. "I want to wash my hands. At the very least we can get a glass of water and sit at a table."
"But I want to be outside. The beach is right here. The restaurant is closed."
"Watch me and see how it's done, Hilda. I'll just flash my rock," said Betty, holding up her left arm, on which she wore a chunky gold-chain bracelet, and wiggling her fingers, upon one of which perched a massive multi-caret diamond ring, "and my platinum card. It's like 'open sesame'. It works wonders on the hoi polloi."
"God," said Hilda. "You spend way too much time with Daniel and his arrogant friends."
"Well, since I'm married to him I suppose I do spend a fair bit of time with him, and since all his arrogant friends are now my friends …"
Ignoring Betty, Hilda wheeled her scooter to the designated parking area and then walked back.
Meanwhile, Betty typed a number into her phone.
"I'm going to tell the rental place to pick up the scooters. There's no way I'm going to risk my neck on one of those contraptions again. Then we'll go in."
"Uh, Betty, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."
"Later," said Betty, holding her phone to her ear, "Hi, I'm Betty Meade and I rented two crappy scooters from you."
"Um, Betty," said Hilda.
"No," said Betty sharply into her phone, waving her hand at Hilda to indicate she should go ahead. "I can not hold-"
"Okay, I'll see if they'll open up," said Hilda.
Listening to her phone, Betty spoke to Hilda, "If you see any New York papers, hide them. I don't want to see the headlines."
"Then don't look at them."
"If they're there, I'll have to look at them."
"I'll try the restaurant," said Hilda, crossing the road. "But I'm sure it's closed."