The Worst Romance Novel Ever Written (56 page)

Oh yeah. I’m supposed to be forgetting Johnny.

“
Just take me home,” she said.

“
Okay,” Paul said.

Gloria’s fleeting thoughts flashed by faster than the scenery thanks to the Prius’s two-squirrel engine, and she found herself comparing Johnny to Paul in the strangest ways.

Paul is listening to NPR and humming, even though there’s only a news program on. Must be a French thing. Johnny would have the radio on to Vibe 100, and we’d be jamming to some old school soul right now, making the Vega literally rock and sway. Yeah, Johnny and I spoke the same music.

Paul has a huge, square chin that juts up into the air. His neck must get tired of looking so arrogant. Johnny had a small, rounded chin that usually pointed down … so he could admire my shoes.

Paul has hairy knuckles. They look as if they’re covered with little, black spiders. Johnny’s only hairy on his head and legs. They look like little, black spiders, too. Hmm. Must be a guy thing.

Paul dresses for success, his entire ensemble matching, his pants creased sharp. Paul is an advertisement. Johnny matched in a “sweats-go-with-everything” way and he didn’t know what a crease was. Johnny was the “before” picture on a makeover show.

Paul smells nice, not sure what his cologne is, probably something exotic. Johnny smelled like pizza and Old Spice morning, noon, and night.

Paul works in the past, doesn’t like talking about his past, and definitely has a future. Johnny worked in the present, lived in the present, dreamed about his past, and doesn’t much like talking about the future.

Paul drives like an old lady, hands at the two and ten positions, his foot alternating from the brake to the gas pedal, and I’m about to get whiplash! Johnny had one arm out the window, the other hand lightly grasping the steering wheel at the bottom, his foot rarely touching either pedal. Johnny used to say that he and the Vega were “one.”

Paul pouts. Johnny smiled, even when he was pouting.

Paul’s voice is like no other I’ve ever heard. It’s pungent, aromatic, flavorful. Johnny’s voice was like sand paper—the fine kind—most of the time, and occasionally he sounded like butter.

Paul’s hair is … longer than mine! Johnny’s beard … was longer than Paul’s hair! Am I attracted to hairy men or what?

The Prius hummed to a stop. “When will—”

“
No questions,” Gloria interrupted. She opened her door.

“
Okay, then tell me when Angel usually comes home from school,” Paul said.

I should have told him “no talking whatsoever.”
Gloria relented. “She’s usually home by three, but today isn’t a good day, okay? Give her a few days to process you, all right? I know she’s still pretty hurt by the things you said last night.”

“
I will give her the weekend and then visit her at three o’ clock on Monday,” Paul said.

“
I said I’d call you. Don’t come over until I call you.”

Paul looked away. “I do not like this arrangement.”

“
Neither do I,” Gloria said. She got out and peered inside. “But it’s the only arrangement I’m comfortable with.” She closed the door without having to slam her hip into it, smiled, and went inside.

“
You found him!” Marion said, smiling.

Gloria shook her head. “He’s already moved out of his apartment.” She hung up her coat.

“
But you were smiling when you started up the walk,” Marion said.

“
Because Paul’s door shut the first time,” Gloria said, “unlike that Vega.” She moved past Marion to the kitchen.

“
How do you know he’s already moved out?” Marion asked, following.

“
I was in his apartment, Mama,” Gloria said. “His clothes were gone.” She sat and drummed her fingers on the table. “Clothes gone, man gone.”

“
Well, maybe he’s donating them to Goodwill,” Marion said, sitting across from Gloria and holding tightly to a coffee mug.

Gloria rolled her eyes. “I doubt Goodwill would take Johnny’s clothes back.”
Oh, that was harsh. True, but harsh.

“
So you’re just giving up?” Marion asked. “That’s it? Search for him for an hour and then quit?”

“
Johnny obviously doesn’t want to be found, now does he?” Gloria said. “It’s plain to me that he’s done with me.”

Marion stood over the sink and looked out the window. “Nothing is over unless you want it to be over.”

“
So … maybe I want it to be over,” Gloria said. “Maybe I want to get back to my old life.”

“
Your old, quiet, boring life,” Marion said with a sigh.

True, but at least I knew what to expect every day.
“I was happier then.”

Marion shook her head. “No, you weren’t.”

True, but at least I had total control of my life.
“I just need a little time to regroup, Mama, that’s all, and the more boring, quiet, and dull the better. For me and for Angel.”

“
You’re going to miss that man, Gloria,” Marion said. “I already do.”

So do I! But I can’t just fall apart like one of those stupid wenches in Johnny’s stupid book.
“Well, I don’t miss him at all, and I know Angel doesn’t miss him a lick either.”
That only might be true. She’s hard to read sometimes.

“
You’re going to miss that man, Gloria,” Marion said, and she stood, shaking her head and walking out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

“
Where are you going, Mama?” Gloria asked, following at Marion’s heels. “We could make us some lunch.”

Marion didn’t stop. “I’m feeling old all of a sudden. I’m going to take a nap.” She trudged up the first few steps.

“
Is that how you deal with your problems?” Gloria asked with a laugh.

Marion continued upstairs and didn’t look back. “That wasn’t funny.”

Why is it wise when she says it but only mean when I say it?
“Have a nice nap, Mama.”

Marion shut her door.

She couldn’t miss Johnny that much,
Gloria thought.
All she did was fuss at him and make fun of his car.

Gloria curled up at one end of the loveseat.
Of course she has fussed with me as long as I can remember and made fun of my
lack
of a car—

Gloria heard a familiar scratchy song starting upstairs.
Oh, c’mon, Mama. Don’t pull out your Billie Holiday records now! Using Lady Day to make me feel worse just isn’t fair!
“I’m a Fool to Want You” blared from Marion’s old record player upstairs.
Okay, okay, Mama misses him. She’ll get over it.

I know I will.

Gloria closed her eyes and hummed along with Billie.
And I’m a fool to have wanted you at all, Johnny Holiday. I’ll be better off without you.

A single tear slid down her cheek.

I just wish I could forget you.

42

Before returning to AB Auto Repair and Towing, Johnny stopped at the Williamson Road Branch library and researched the old Pizza Hut building. He checked out Hall Associates’ business property listings and found: “Well Maintained Property at a central location. 1628 sq. ft. for only $195,000!!!”

It’s an empty freaking building!
Johnny screamed in his mind.
I could buy three nice houses with yards for that amount! What, are the fixtures made of gold? Does it have an indoor lap pool and a hot tub on the roof? Is it a self-cleaning building?

He found a simple online mortgage calculator and plugged in a $195,000 loan with no down payment and five percent interest over fifteen years.
Fifteen hundred a month! I’d need to sell over two hundred pizzas just to pay the note, and that doesn’t even include all the rest of the stuff I’ll need!

Johnny tried to calm down and eventually did, consoling himself with the knowledge that many American dreams are, indeed, expensive.

The expenses mounted as Johnny researched what he’d need just to open his business, a snatch of scratch paper recording the damage:

Building $195,000

Remanufactured Middleby Marshall oven $24,000

Randell Pizza Prep Table $3,995

Leer Walk-In Cooler $4,560

Royal Cash Register $120

Neon Pizza sign $303

Only about a quarter million,
Johnny thought.
And that doesn’t even count delivery bags, utensils, pans, pots, cleaning supplies, flour, yeast, sauce, toppings, the mouse-shaped boxes I’ll need … and tax … can’t forget the tax … oh, and insurance … a safe … napkins … restoring the Vega …

At least,
he thought happily,
I won’t need a time clock.

Johnny figured that he’d need at least $300,000 to get started.

Johnny also decided that folks playing the lottery weren’t entirely wasting their time waiting in line at Quick-E Marts.

Where I met a beautiful woman with interesting hands …

He shook off Gloria’s hands and plugged $300,000 into the mortgage calculator using the same figures as before.
Only twenty-four hundred a month for the whole ball of dough. That’s about 400 pizzas a month or about 100 per week, twenty a day, say two an hour …

Johnny decided that would be feasible.

He also decided to play the next lottery often, just to be safe.

He then researched Small Business Administration (SBA) loans and learned that the government, in its general lack of wisdom and general lack of funds, did not actually give out SBA loans. The SBA only negotiated with local banks to provide the funds—as if local banks had any money to lend either.

He clicked around the SBA website until he came to the “Requirements” page. When the librarian turned her head, he sneaked a piece of paper from the copy machine. “Provide a written description of your business, including the following information,” Johnny whispered. He wrote:

Type of organization: Pizza Joint
Date of information: Today
Location: Roanoke, VA
Product or service: Pizza
Brief history: None
Proposed Future Operation: Yes
Competition: None—no one delivers to this part of Roanoke … okay, Domino’s, Pizza Hut, and Papa John’s are close by for carryout orders
Customers: Hopefully!
Suppliers: Food Lion and maybe Kroger

If Kroger doesn’t mind me raiding its salad bar on a moment’s notice when I run out of banana peppers.

“
Give a description of how loan funds will be used,” Johnny whispered.
That librarian is eyeing me. Act casual.
“Should include purpose, amount and type of loan,” he whispered into the keyboard. Johnny wrote:

Purpose: To buy property, get ovens, counters, ingredients, advertising, etc., and get my Vega fixed

Amount: $300,000

Type: SBA

“
Give a description of collateral offered to secure the loan, including equity in the business, borrowed funds and available cash.” Johnny frowned and wrote:

Equity: None

Borrowed Funds: None

Available Cash: about $27

“
Provide complete financial statements for the past three years and current interim financial statements.”
What do I do here? Send a blank spreadsheet?

“
List statements of owners, partners, officers and stockholders owning twenty percent or more of the business.”
Do I send my name alone on a single sheet of paper?

After being stymied yet again by the federal government and the Salaciously Brainless Administration, Johnny became even more depressed, so he took the Caddy to look for money.