Gorilla Beach (5 page)

Gia seemed more frazzled to see Frankie than by the accident. “You look awesome,” she said, hugging him hello. “And you smell good, too.” The top of her head came up to his nipples.

Frankie made a quick phone call. After he hung up, he said, “I called the Troublino Body Shop for a tow. Should be here in half an hour.”

Tony's grandfather's garage,
thought Bella. Great. Now she'd have to deal with
her
ex when she went to get her car from Giuseppe's body shop. “Thanks,” she said.

Frank ignored her. His eyes were locked on Gia. “Can I give you a lift?”

“Yes! We're late already,” said Gia, hurrying in the truck's direction. When she took a step, she teetered and yelped.

Frankie caught her in his arms before she fell on the grease-smeared highway. He picked her up and held her like a baby. Gia instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. “Ankle?” he asked, concerned.

“Heel.” She extended her foot. One of her patent-leather pumps' four-inch heels had snapped off. “Can you carry me to the truck?”

Bella stifled a laugh. Gia had a sexual quirk about being carried. She got off on it. Whatever. Bella liked it when boys bit her neck like a vampire. To each her own.

Frankie smiled and hoisted Gia up higher. She squealed and giggled. Turning to Bella, he said, “You might want to get anything of value out of the car.”

While Bella grabbed their purses and emptied the contents of the glove box into a plastic bag she found in the backseat, Gia said, “This is sick luck that you drove by. We're going to Neptune's Hideaway for Maria's wedding. We're the bridesmaids.”

“I figured that from your matching dresses. I'm going to the wedding, too.”

“You … why didn't you tell me? I didn't know you and Stanley were close.”

Frank hesitated. “We're not. I'm going because—”

Suddenly, a bronzed guidette appeared in the truck window. She banged her hand on the side of the door and hollered, “Hey, Frankie! What's the holdup? Let's go!”

“Who's that?” asked Gia about the girl yanking Frankie's leash.

“That's Cara Lupo. She's Mario Lupo's daughter.”

“Related to Donna and Fredo Lupo?” asked Bella.

“Cara is Fredo's cousin. Donna and Luigi's niece. Mario and Luigi are brothers.”

Of course they were. “What do they do, exactly?” asked Bella.

“Waste management.”

“Are you with-with her?” asked Gia.

Frankie frowned. He seemed to be debating which way to go. He went with honesty. “Cara is my girlfriend, yeah.”

“Put me down,” said Gia, suddenly cold.

Frankie did as he was told. With an anxious glance he said, “I'll wait in the truck,” and jogged back to it.

Gia crawled into the backseat of the Honda where Bella was prizing a quarter from under the floor mat. “Did you hear that?”

Bella nodded. “You told me six months ago you were done with Frankie.”

“Just because I'm done with him doesn't mean I want him to be done with
me,
” whined Gia. “It took him forever to get over his breakup before me. I figured he'd stay single for a while.”

“And you'd just start up again, like nothing had happened?” said Bella, shaking her head. “You thought you had a sure thing?”

“You mean, ‘a shore thing'? Okay, I was wrong. I'm a friggin' idiot. Do I look like one?”

“No. You look hawt. Frankie is eating his heart out right now.”

The cousins walked (Gia limped on her broken shoe) to the pickup truck with their purses and the bag full of salvaged paperwork and junk. It was a tight fit, the four of them in the front cab. Frankie pulled out.

Frank made hasty introductions. Cara, pretty and vapid in a tight blue dress and black pumps, asked, “You're Giovanna Spumanti? Didn't you and Frankie, like, hook up last summer?”

The girl made it sound like a casual fling. Was that how Frankie described their intense six-month relationship? Bella eyed Gia protectively. Instead of setting the kid straight, Gia said, “You could say that. Do you live in Seaside?”

“Toms River. I just graduated.”

Bella didn't know any college in Toms River. “What school?”

“Toms River High.”

High school?
That would make Cara eighteen. Frankie was twenty-eight.

“She's ten years younger than you. Is that even legal?” asked Gia.

“I'm young, but experienced,” said Cara. “I've seen a lot of crazy shit.”

“I'm seeing some crazy shit
right now,
” said Gia. “What was your first date? Lunchables and juice boxes at the playground?”

Bella laughed. “They went to the Build-A-Bear Workshop.”

“No, Chuck E. Cheese,” squealed Gia.

Cara steamed, her slutteen arms crossed over her chest. Frankie's face was fire-engine red. Friggin' should be embarrassed! He took the turn into the Neptune's parking lot on two wheels. “We're here,” he said. “Glad to help you girls out. I'll just park and—”

Cara said, “Actually, Frank and I met at a Halloween party last year. I went as Hannah Montana.”

Gia would've snorted till she puked, but then it hit her. “Wait, Halloween? In
October
? Two months
before
New Year's? That's pretty frickin' interesting. Did Frankie come to the party dressed as a cheating, lying
asshole
?”

Frankie raced out of the truck as soon as they parked and pulled Cara out after him. Over his shoulder, he yelled, “See you later.”

“See you in hell!” called Gia after him.

Bella and Gia climbed down from the truck, Gia teetering on one heel. Bella said, “You okay?”

Gia took a deep breath and smoothed down her ruffled feathers. “Let's get frickin' married.”

“Do you, Stanley Kowalski
Crumbi, take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife—again?” asked the priest.

Stanley, in a navy-blue tux, said, “I freakin' do.”

“And do you, Mary Agatha Pugliani, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband—again?”

Maria, in a white satin minidress, short in front with a massive bustle and train that went on for miles in the back, said, “I freakin' do, too.”

The priest said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the groom.”

Everyone laughed, and Maria went for it big-time. She planted a slobbering, open-mouth spit-swapper on Stanley. Gia, standing at the altar at Maria's side, hooted and clapped, hopping up and down on the one good heel.

Maria and Stanley came up for air with a loud gasp. The audience applauded as the happy couple walked down the aisle. As they were instructed to do, Bella and Gia followed the newlyweds out of the “chapel” room, then into the bridal chamber, where Maria had had her hair and makeup done before the ceremony.

“You coming?” Maria asked Stanley as she opened the door. The plan was for Maria to put on the second of her three dresses
for the event and make a grand entrance into the Trident Lounge for the predinner cocktail hour.

“I gotta check on some things,” said Stanley, already punching keys on his phone. “The plumber was supposed to be at the Sheridan Avenue house an hour ago, but he never showed up. I might have to go over there to unclog a toilet.”

“Unclog a toilet on your wedding day,” said Maria, her voice frosty. “Why don't you and the plumber go on a honeymoon together?”

“Maybe I would if I knew where the fat fuck was,” snarled Stanley.

Ah, wedded bliss,
thought Gia. “Stanley, we wanna talk to you about our apartment. You know that place sucks. We need a major upgrade.”

“I'd take a minor upgrade,” said Bella.

He waved them off. “You're giving me shit at my wedding?”

“Uh, yeah,” Gia replied.

“How about you stop breaking my balls just for one freakin' day? Respect the tux, girls.”

“Come on,” said Maria, pushing the bridesmaids into her dressing room. “Stanley, you better not leave the building or I'll kill you.”

“Whatever you say, Wife.” He wandered off, texting frantically.

Inside the ornate bridal chamber, a bottle of Bacardi 151 sat in an ice bucket on a table. Maria checked the card.
“‘Buona fortuna,'”
she read. “‘Love, Donna.'”

“She's your new bestie?” asked Gia, a bit jealous.

“Help me get out of this thing,” said Maria. They unzipped her gown and tugged it off. The bones in the corset had left indent marks on Maria's back, and the inside of the white dress was streaked orange. Bronzer skid marks.

“You better than anyone should know to let bronzer dry for ten minutes before you get dressed,” said Gia.

“I did wait ten minutes! That's what happens when you go to a new place. Friggin' Soleil. I should've sprayed myself at home.”

Gia frowned. “Why go to Soleil? You have Mystic booths at Tantastic.”

“I didn't tell you? We sold the equipment and gutted the salon. Stanley and I did the math and realized if we renovated the building, we could rent it for four times as much as I brought in at Tantastic.”

“But you loved the salon,” said Gia, shocked. If Maria had said, “I'm Jewish,” Gia wouldn't have been more surprised. “Tanning was your life.”

“I got a new life.” Maria found her cigarettes and lit one. “I'm married now. I've got new friends. Since Stanley went into business with Luigi Lupo at Fongul Industries, he's making more money than ever. Not that you could tell by the way he dresses. But look at me! I'm part of Seaside society. I went blond.”

“We noticed,” said Gia.

“And you had work done?” said Bella, touching her nose.

Maria patted her cheeks. “I had my skin tightened. A few turns of the screw. I feel like a new woman. I
am
a new woman.”

“Honestly? I kind of miss the old cougar,” said Gia, pouting.

“Nah,” scoffed Maria. “The old me was needy and desperate. Those days are in the past. I'm taking some long-overdue me time. My last three marriages—including the first time with Stanley—I worked my ass off to take care of my deadbeat husbands. My plan this time around is to be a wifey. Get my nails done, have a mimosa with breakfast every day, and let someone take care of me for a change.”

“Great for you, but where am I gonna work this summer?” Gia had been counting on a job at Tantastic, and another summer of stenciling tantoos and spraying tantags on beachgoer backs and bellies. Even with cheap rent, Gia needed an income. Bella hoped to get her old job back, teaching beat up the beat dance classes
at the gym in Toms River where her ex Tony Troublino was the manager. Gia had a sneaking doubt that would work out, though. Tony and Bella's breakup last fall hadn't been friendly.

Maria poured shots for each of them. “No offense, Gia, but your employment isn't my problem. Today is
my
day. Let's keep the focus on
me
. And, right now, I wanna have a shot of rum.”

Gia took her glass and said, “I take it back. You haven't changed.”

“You'll find a job. You can always work the Shoot the Freak booth on the boardwalk or sell fried clams.” Maria took a drag from her cigarette, exhaled. “My first cigarette as a re-re-remarried woman. Tastes
great
.” She raised her shot glass. “To love.
Per amore
.”

The cousins said,
“Per amore.”

They downed their shots.

Bella asked, “Do you find it ironic that you got married on Independence Day?”

“I'm hoping to see some fireworks on my wedding night, if you get my meaning, nudge, wink, squee.”

“Ewww,” said Gia.

“Maybe one of you will get lucky with Fredo tonight.”

The girls cracked up. “You mean the kid who's terrified of his own turds?” asked Bella. “I like a man who's a little tougher than that.”

“Be nice to him, for me? He's awkward, but he's a good kid,” said Maria. “Just a little overshadowed by his mother.”

“More like bulldozed,” said Gia.

“How're your moms?” asked Maria, who'd met Alicia Spumanti and Marissa Rizzoli last summer.

Gia glanced at Bella and saw her eyes cloud over. The truth was, Aunt Marissa wasn't doing so well. Better now than she'd been in the fall, winter, and spring, but still recovering. Bella rarely, if ever, discussed her mom's cancer. The very thought of it was emotional kryptonite. Gia changed the subject. “It's
your
day, Maria, remember?
We're all about you, you, you, and then more you. Whatever you want. We hear and obey.”

“Well, then, I want another drink.”

Gia poured the rum. “To good health.”

Maria said,
“Alla buona salute.”

They drank again.

Knock
. Maria screamed at the door, “I'm naked in here!”

Gia wasn't sure if that was supposed to lure someone in or frighten him away. Maria took dress number two off the hanger and stepped into it. The royal-blue, strapless number was jarringly un-Maria-like. It was a proper lady's dress. Solid color, no shine or animal print. Knee length. Total cleavage coverage. Since Gia had seen enough of Maria's cracked, sun-damaged cleavage to last a lifetime, she wasn't sure why she missed it now.

“I'm decent!” hollered the bride.

Sad, but true.

Donna and her posse burst into the room. Each was draped in fur, and dripping with diamonds on their earlobes and fingers. Gia had to blink from so much bling in such a small space. Maria doled out shots of Bacardi for her friends. “To the beautiful young bride!” said Donna.

Gia nearly choked on her rum. To be honest, she had no idea how old Maria was. Anywhere between forty and dead. The ladies passed the bottle around until it was gone. Gia tried to imagine her mom—same age as the Real Housewives of Seaside—sucking down rum the night after a champagne binge. Ugh. The ladies fawned over Maria, going a million miles a minute about how fantastic she looked. She gobbled up the attention. Antonia and Carmela got in a baby slap fight over who got the honor of escorting Maria to the Trident Lounge. They each took one arm and pulled on Maria like a wishbone.