Chapter 8
With more than a little curiosity, Nydia found herself in Tristan’s office. He had requested she come up to see him without Tatiana.
“This is none of my business but I’m bringing this up out of concern for half of my winning advertising team,” Tristan asserted.
“Okay,” said Nydia with a wrinkled, perplexed brow.
“I know Tatiana is seeing Randy Durbin.
“She actually hasn’t seen him in a while. He seems to have disappeared.”
“I think I know why.”
“You do?” Nydia asked with curiosity.
“He was fired from his job.”
“Fired?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know why?” asked Nydia.
“He wasn’t producing enough. He wasn’t selling enough airtime.”
“Maybe sales isn’t his forte.”
“If I may be so bold as to ask—why was she going out with him in the first place?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you like the guy, Nydia?” he asked, his eyes piercing.
“He’s okay, I guess.”
“There’s something that isn’t quite right about him.”
Nydia couldn’t help thinking that Tristan Segovia would never be happy with any man Tatiana went out with. She just wished those two would stop being so stubborn and would get together.
“I haven’t really thought about him,” informed Nydia. “I have to admit that I was so relieved when Tatiana started going out with him that I didn’t think to dissect him.”
“Why were you relieved?”
“Tatiana tends to be pretty closed off when it comes to men.”
“Why?” asked Tristan, curiosity permeating his voice.
“She had a difficult childhood and I was relieved she actually let her guard down with Randy.”
“But—“
“Tristan, I’m a bit uncomfortable talking to you about Tatiana. She’s my best friend, and I shouldn’t be telling you her private affairs. Since you’re concerned, maybe someday you can talk to her yourself.”
“Maybe.”
Tatiana hadn't seen or heard from Randy. She had seen his brother at the elevator but since he didn't look as if he'd warmed up to her, she didn't ask him anything. Nydia invited her to lunch because she said she needed to tell Tatiana something. Judith had already committed to go to lunch with Augusta and since she knew how they felt about her, she didn't suggest all four of them have the meal together.
When Nydia and Tatiana arrived at El Rancho restaurant, their jaw dropped open. Judith and Augusta were about to be seated when Augusta eyed them.
“Hi,” Augusta chortled. “You're eating here too?”
“Augusta wanted to come here,” Judith uttered apologetically.
“I thought you didn't like it here, Augusta,” retorted Nydia from between her teeth.
“I don't but I know Judith does,” said Augusta, sighing.
Please! Por favor! Acting the concerned friend. Give me a break!
“I was okay with going somewhere else,” Judith murmured, her voice still apologetic.
“Don’t be silly. I know how much you like it here,” Augusta announced, sighing yet once more. “I don't mind. Really I don't. As long as you're happy.”
Please Louise! Por Favor!
“We should sit down,” grumbled Judith, looking at Augusta.
Tatiana and Nydia eyed one another. They had never heard Judith with such an edge to her voice. Not even when they had had the intervention, had she sounded so irritated.
“Would you like to join us?” asked Augusta. “It's my treat.”
“No,” Nydia blurted and asked Petra to seat them elsewhere.
Petra, who was beginning to read their minds, put them in the opposite direction of Augusta. They couldn't even see her from where they were sitting. Petra took their order and left.
“We need to give Petra a big tip,” Nydia said.
“Absolutely.”
“The nerve of that medusa!” Nydia snapped. “I'd rather eat with a ravenous bunch of lions.”
“They'd be better guests.”
“They'd eat us but wouldn't talk about us afterwards.”
They chuckled as Petra put two glasses of iced tea on their table along with the chips and salsa. Tatiana immediately started in on them.
“Have you tried calling Randy?” asked Nydia, grabbing a chip.
“I've tried his cell, but it's not working any more. That's the only number I've got, and I feel uneasy about calling him at work. I don't think he's been in anyway.”
“I've heard a rumor,” declared Nydia.
“What is it?”
“He was fired.”
“Fired?” Tatiana asked.
“Yes.”
Can it be true? Tatiana wondered. “How do you know?”
Nydia looked nervous. “From Tristan.”
“Tristan?”
“Yes, Tristan told me that Randy had been fired.”
“He did?”
“He was worried about you,” Nydia stated.
Tatiana’s eyebrows shot up in puzzlement. “Tristan Segovia was worried about me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He seems to think there’s something that doesn’t compute with Randy.”
“Tristan seems to have a suspicious nature, don’t you think?”
“What he seems to have is feelings for you,” Nydia stated, smiling.
“Stop it,” Tatiana demanded, irritated.
“But, Tatiana—“
“I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”
“Okay, Tatiana.”
“Do you know why Randy got fired?” Tatiana questioned.
“Of what I understand Randy wasn't a producer. He hardly sold any advertising airtime.”
“That's why he hasn't called me. He's probably ashamed about what happened to him.”
“Don't take this wrong, but he still should've called you for your birthday.”
Tatiana nodded. “I know.”
Back at the agency, Tatiana and Nydia were hard at work trying to tie up the loose odds and ends of the Segovia account. It turned out that Tristan lived up to his promise and gave Tatiana no more problems. In fact, there were a few times he even complimented her on the work she was doing for him.
“Had a good lunch?” asked Beatrice, entering Tatiana's office.
“It was excellent. Maybe you'll join us sometime,” Tatiana said.
“Sure,” answered Beatrice.
“Are you feeling okay?” asked Nydia. “You don't seem yourself.” Beatrice hadn't smiled at all.
“It's been a long day. I'm afraid I'm going to have to impose on your generosity.”
“What are you collecting for today?” asked Nydia, smiling.
“You know me too well. I'm collecting for flowers to send to Magda's mom. I know Magda's mother doesn't actually work here, but she's very sick and—”
“What's wrong with Magda's mother?” asked Tatiana, concerned.
“She's had a massive heart attack. She's in a coma and barely alive.”
“How horrible!” exclaimed Nydia.
“How devastating,” Tatiana expressed. “How's Magda?”
“Not well at all. She's very close to her mother.”
“Of course we'll pitch in,” Tatiana said as she and Nydia handed Beatrice money from their purses.
“Thank you. May God bless you for being generous and not being ugly about other people's predicaments,” Beatrice expressed as she left.
Tatiana and Nydia were puzzled. What a strange statement. What did Beatrice mean? How could anybody not understand the seriousness of a heart attack and a daughter who loved her mother?
What they didn't know was that Beatrice was talking about a heart far sicker than the one belonging to Magda's mother. Augusta had completely shaken Beatrice’s sense of balance earlier.
“I'm not going to give you any money for anything that has to do with Magda,” Augusta had declared.
“Why not?”
“Magda is a lesbian.”
“How do you know that?”
“You know that I answer the phones around here. No one else can be bothered to do it,” Augusta had muttered, sighing. “I noticed that this one woman kept calling her. I accidentally picked up the line and heard the woman pleading with Magda to have a 'commitment ceremony'. A commitment ceremony! As if they can ever be right with God with a fake marriage. Those lesbians are so—”
“Stop! I don't want to hear anymore. Magda's private life is none of my business,” announced Beatrice, shaking with frustration.
“What do you mean it's none of your business? You're a Christian like me. You know those people are condemned to hell. We can't be encouraging them by condoning their sin.”
“I'm not God, Augusta. I don't put myself in His position to judge. I don't cast the first stone. Meanwhile, I think we can act Christ-like if we show Magda we care and send some flowers to her mother.”
“Why should we send her mother flowers when she doesn't even work here?”
“But—”
“I resent your high and mighty stance on Christianity,” snapped Augusta. “Just because you're a marshmallowy Christian doesn't mean you're a better one than I am. I am a tough soldier of Christ. I don't waffle when it comes to my beliefs. Because of people like you, condoning sin, we live in a Sodom and Gomorrah world and even if you don't make it in to heaven, I intend to slide into that glory with all the other righteous souls.”
Beatrice’s nostrils flared in an uncharacteristic way. Few people were able to upset her like Augusta did. “I doubt if heaven is full of haters,” she declared, leaving Augusta’s mouth wide open as she rushed to get away from Augusta.
After work, Tatiana decided her cooking was bad enough without having to eat it and ordered take out from her favorite Chinese restaurant. Cashew chicken and Hot and Sour soup would if not fix her discouraged-about-life mood, at least they would help it. She was relaxing at home and about to eat a mouthful of fried rice when there was a knock on the door. When she looked through the peep hole, she saw it was Candida carrying a dish in her hands.
“Mama, what are you doing here?” Tatiana asked when she opened the door.
“I'm visiting my daughter,” said Candida, letting herself in. “I brought some fajitas I made earlier. We can have dinner together.”
“Okay.”
Candida saw the Chinese food. “Put that up and you can have it tomorrow, Tati.”
“Okay.”
Tatiana wanted to be alone and eat her cashew chicken, but throwing her mother out was akin to committing a mortal sin. It would be an eternity in hell if she dared banish the woman who had given her life, albeit a bizarre one, but an existence nonetheless. She could feel the love her mother had for her so acutely that she couldn't imagine making her leave. She put the Chinese food in the refrigerator and started eating the fajitas with Candida.
“The Frida print looks good in your dining room,” Candida mentioned.
“Thank you.”
“How are you, Tati?”
“Fine.”
“Tell me what's wrong?” Candida asked.
“Nothing's wrong.”
“Yes it is. Is this about a man?”
“Mama, don't ask me that.”
“It's the man in the elevator in your building.”
Tatiana almost choked. “What? How did you know?”
“When I left the agency on your birthday and the elevator doors opened, a man holding a box with what looked like his personal things was on. He asked me if he knew me from somewhere.”
“He was trying to pick you up?” asked Tatiana, wondering how she got involved with a man who put the make on women in elevators.
“No, it was nothing like that. I told him I had never seen him before and then he told me I looked like his girlfriend. I was going to ask him who his girlfriend was but the elevator stopped, and he rushed out.”
“His name is Randy,” Tatiana said quietly.
Candida nodded. “Why wasn't he at your birthday dinner? Why haven't I met him?”
Tatiana didn't want to tell her she hadn't heard from him. “Let's drop this, Mama. It doesn't matter.”
“Yes, it matters. . . I don't want to be the type of mother who interferes in your life but—”
“Then don't.”
“I have to. I have to warn you before you step on a land mine. Tatiana, I don't like this man.”
“You see him in an elevator once and decide you don't like him? You haven't had a decent conversation with him.”
“He's mierda, Tatiana. It's the same shit in a different package.”
“Mama, please.”
“Will you even think about what I'm saying?”
“I will if you give your next door neighbor a chance,” Tatiana declared.
“I'm already fifty-two. Why do I need a relationship?”
“He sounds like a good man.”
Candida let out an exasperated sound. “I'll think about it.”
After dinner, Candida had to leave since she needed to stop at Pina's house to borrow a sweater. She wouldn't admit it to her daughter, not even to herself, that after her next door neighbor, Claudio, moved in, she had been taking special care of her attire. It used to not matter if she had an ink stain or a hole here and there on her clothes, but now for some reason it did.
Tatiana was left alone once more and decided that the only thing better than one great dinner was two great dinners. She took out the cashew chicken and started eating. After all, who would know that she was growing another stomach? But someone knocked on her door again.
It better not be someone trying to sell me something unless it's edible.
When Tatiana looked through the peephole, she had to do a double take. Could it be? She momentarily decided not to open the door but then changed her mind.
“What are you doing here?” she asked Randy Durbin as she swung the door open.
“I know you must be furious with me. You have to let me explain. Can I come in?” he asked.
“I don't—”
“I'm begging you.”
She let out a breath. “Okay.” Tatiana lead him to the sofa.
“Did I interrupt your dinner?” Randy asked, looking at the Chinese food on the cocktail table.
“Don't worry about it.”
“I'm so sorry.”
“Don't mention it,” Tatiana said.
“I didn't mean to—”
“Why haven't you called me?”
“I haven't called you because I left my job,” Randy explained.
“You got fired.”
“You heard?”
“Yes,” Tatiana said.
“The manager is a jerk. He expects too much.”
“What are you going to do?” Tatiana asked.
“For the moment, I'm working at my brother's pizzeria.”
“At least you've got a job.”
“I'm so sorry. Please tell me you're not angry with me,” Randy pleaded.
“I'm disappointed in you.”
“Why? I promise you it wasn't my fault I got fired.”
“That's not why I'm disappointed in you.”
“I’m so sorry I haven’t called you. I was so ashamed about getting fired that I couldn’t face you.”
“Randy, you should’ve told me what happened instead of disappearing like that.”
“I know. I’m so sooo sorry.”
Tatiana sighed. “There’s something else that really disappointed me about you.”
“What is it?” asked Randy, scouring his brain.
“Let me give you a hint. I'm a bit older now.”
“Oh my gosh! Your birthday!”
“Yes.”
“I missed your birthday! What an idiot!”
&
nbsp; “Yes.”
“Please let me make it up to you. Let's go to dinner,” he pleaded.
“I love to eat, but I think I should stop at two dinners.”
“What?”
“I’ve already had dinner.”
“How can I make it up to you?” Randy questioned with puppy dog eyes, full of anxious hope.
Should I give him a second chance or not? Normally, Tatiana wouldn’t do it, and she would’ve cut him off by now, but Nydia was always telling her she was too hard on men.
“You can’t take me to dinner tomorrow.”
Randy grinned with relief. “We’ll celebrate big time!”