Brava, Valentine: A Novel Page 14

  You would think that estrangements that occurred a hundred years ago are irrelevant, until I walk into my own shop. I still can't get along with my own brother, and there are times, when I fight with Alfred, that the wound seems ancient. Maybe the answer lies in the past.

  After all, history is the energy that flows through our work in the shop. Everything I create is based on the designs my great-grandfather left behind; wouldn't it also stand true that we also carry certain behaviors forward when dealing with one another?

  I IM Roberta. "What do you do?" I click send.

  A few moments pass. I wonder if she'll give me the brush-off. Then, an instant message pops up from Roberta.

  "I operate and own the family business," she writes.

  "What business?

  "We manufacture men's shoes. We're the Caminito Shoe Company."

  Roberta types in the name of her company, just as I do my own. A chill goes through me. "Gabe, you won't believe it. Roberta makes shoes."

  Gabriel sits down next to me and reads the e-mail exchange. "This is crazy."

  I type: "Would love to discuss everything with you. May I call, or do you prefer e-mail?"

  Roberta types: "Send me your questions, and then we'll talk. I have a new baby, and my hours are difficult."

  I exit out of e-mail and click into Google. I type in: "Shoe Manufacturing in Buenos Aires." I type in "Caminito Shoe Company." A series of articles about Argentinian shoe manufacturers pops up. My hands shake as I type.

  "I can't believe it. I have a cousin who makes shoes, too!"

  "Everybody has a twin, you know. Maybe she's yours. Northern hemisphere, southern hemisphere--separated by the equator. I wish we'd found your twin in Rio, though--I always wanted to go to Carnival."

  "Sorry, I wouldn't care if she had a mill on the moon."

  Gabriel places a cup of coffee with a small scone next to the computer.

  "For me?" I place the pressed linen napkin on my lap.

  "If you're going to dig up family secrets, you need to eat."

  "You're better than a husband."

  "Or a wife. Deciding to keep the Minton china made me feel British. I just had to whip up some scones." Gabriel places the jam in front of my plate.

  I nibble the buttery fresh biscuit. "You should open a bakery."

  "I've thought about it." Gabriel pours me a cup of coffee and then one for himself.

  "Can we talk?"

  Gabriel sits. "I'll talk about anything--including NASCAR, which I know nothing about--I just don't want to talk about Alfred."

  "I'm sorry. I'm obsessed. But it's because I don't know what to do."

  "Do nothing. You can't be sure you saw what you saw."

  "Oh, I saw it."

  "Okay, for the thousandth time, let's say it was what you thought. That they were kissing. What if it was the first time they kissed?"

  "What difference would that make?"

  "A lot. Nothing puts the brakes on a budding affair like getting caught in an illicit lip-lock. Put yourself in Alfred's shoes. The only thing worse than your sister catching you fooling around is your wife. I can't imagine that the Redhead and your brother didn't talk later and say, 'This was God telling us to stop.'"

  "You watch too many Lifetime movies."

  "I know," he says.

  "The tension with Pamela makes sense now. She calls the shop all the time. She can never find him. He forgets to show up for stuff at the school. He's late. And he hides behind the job here. He uses me and the shoes as an excuse."

  "So what?" Gabriel shrugs.

  "I don't like it."

  "Oh, I think you like it a lot. You finally have something on that brother of yours who never did right by you."

  "That's not true. I didn't want to find out that my brother was this kind of a guy. I'm very sad about it. And mostly sad about it because he tortured my father emotionally all these years for doing the exact same thing!"

  "That's their business."

  "Yeah, but the rest of us were dragged into it."

  "Okay, look, I've known your brother almost as long as I've known you. I've always thought he was a little stiff, and I never liked the way he treated you--but I never pegged him as a bad guy. A superior guy? Yes. He was always a snob. And he never failed at anything. Well, he didn't until he left his job at the Bank of All Money."

  "He was let go." I correct Gabriel.

  "Got it. The only difference between a vice president and a receptionist is that when a vice president gets fired, he gets to spin it and say he left first--they do not extend the same courtesy to the working class. We are, simply put, shit-canned and shown the door."

  "Got it."

  "What you don't get is that at the age of forty--this is the first time your brother has been shown the door. He has had an enchanted life up until now. And that's worse than taking your lumps all the way through, like the rest of us. We are used to disappointment. We know failure. We not only expect the other shoe to drop, we're there to catch it when it does. We know what it takes to come back from a blow. Alfred really hasn't been tested. And guess what? Now, he's been tested. And he's scrambling."

  "I know. And I actually feel sorry for him."

  "You know what? I do too. The man is in a pickle. He looks at his life with the wife and the kids and the house in Jersey that costs a fortune--that he's always been able to pay for, and now he can't. Now everything will change. He's looking at cleaning the pool himself, and mowing the lawn himself, and asking Skinny Minnie to go out and get a job to help out, which he never had to do before, and the guy feels like he's been asked to put his balls in a shoe bag. Okay? Your brother is falling apart as he's trying to hold it all together."

  "As smart as he is, he didn't see it coming. The collapse. The banking disaster."

  "Oh, they all saw it, they just didn't believe it. They didn't want to believe it. And why would they? Who would want to believe that the money would ever stop! And you know, it killed him to have to come here and work with you."

  "I know, I know."

  "And I will guarantee you that Gram told him in the beginning, Just look out for Valentine, okay? She never proposed a partnership. Gram probably didn't want to bother him, she probably said, Check in on Val at the shop once in a while, help out with the financials--and he said, Gram, it's over at the bank. I need a job. You can't just have me check the books--I need a stake in the thing, because I have no other options right now. I'm telling you as I'm standing here, I swear on my mother, father, and our standard poodle Brutus--all dead by the way--that your brother groveled for this gig."

  "You could be right about that. I mean, Gram never mentioned a partnership until we were all in Italy together for the wedding."

  "A little late to sit you two down, don't you think?"

  "Absolutely."

  "So almost on cue, when Alfred is feeling the most vulnerable on all fronts, and like a loser in general, then Missie the Redhead makes the scene."

  "Kathleen."

  "Yeah, her. Alfred couldn't feel worse about himself; he's watching June cut patterns and you making art, and he's lived a life pushing around a bunch of fake numbers. He's the lowest he's ever been because he realizes that he's spent his life not making anything. Missie the Redhead works for the government in a crap office downtown, and she's ten years younger, therefore ten years dumber, and she looks up to your brother--who probably spun some tale to her like he's gone back to his roots by choice to run this shoe company, and she looked at your brother, with his big life, and all his experience, and his full head of hair, and said, I want me some of that. And that's what she's having down there by the powder room. Some of that."

  "Dear God."

  "And everybody wins--at least in the short term. Your brother is nicer to his wife, the mistress has something to look forward to other than people like you filing loan applications--and Alfred gets his groove on. After the biggest disappointment of his life, he feels smart, scintillating, and desirable again, a
nd then hot sex ensues. And the world goes round. Got it?"

  "Oh, I got it." I put my head in my hands.

  Gram used to say if you are lucky enough to live a long life, you see everything come and go at least twice. If I had to predict the things in life that I would have seen twice, it would have included a lot of trends: the return of thick eyebrows, the resurgence of curly hair, and the reinvention of skorts. But I never thought I would have lived through Dad's indiscretion twice, and I surely didn't think it would be my own brother Alfred, so wounded by it so many years ago, who would repeat the mistake.

  Gram's absence, her move and new life, have never had such impact as they do right now. She was the calm center of our family, the glue. She would know what to say, and what to do--she'd knock some sense into Alfred, as she did my own father so many years ago. But family problems in a long lens aren't nearly as potent as they are when they're percolating in the next room. The distance between our shop on Perry Street and Dominic's kitchen in Arezzo is so far, it might as well be a galaxy away.

  No, we will have to sort this one out on our own. And whether I confront my brother or stay silent and stew, as he has done all these years in the shadow of my father's mistake, will be my choice. I just wish my brother had made a better one.

  I've dragged the last of the garden supplies onto the roof to plant the tomatoes. The potting soil, sticks, and planters are good to go. All I need are the plants, which my dad has promised to pick up in Queens, where they are sturdier and cheaper than the ones I would buy here in town.

  I considered not planting them at all this year, but figured it had to be bad luck not to. I don't want to be the first person in my family to cancel the family garden after decades of relying upon it for the August harvest. Even though Gram is gone, the tomatoes must go on.

  I pull out my cell phone and sit down on the chaise. I dial Gram.

  "Have any luck finding out about Rafael?" I ask.

  "You were right. Michel and Rafael were brothers. I scanned the baptismal certificate and sent it to you. And they were about a year apart in age. Michel was the older of the two."

  "Unbelievable." I can't imagine what horrible transgression could possibly sever the relationship of two brothers forever. I know there is nothing that could come between my sisters and me. Alfred is different. And maybe part of the reason I want to understand the past in our family is to help me cope with my brother in the present. "What do you think happened between them?"

  "I don't know." Gram is puzzled. "I was very close to my father-in-law--I can't imagine why he wouldn't have told me about this."

  "It must be something pretty awful."

  "Or maybe it's just money," Gram says. "My father-in-law watched every penny. And if anyone ever tried to take advantage of him, he cut them out."

  "Well, I'm about to find out what happened. I'm going down there."

  "You are?"

  "I can't tell enough about Roberta from e-mails. And I want to see her factory. Wouldn't it be something if we could work together?"

  "You're doing so much more with the business than I ever could," Gram says wistfully. This is the first time since her wedding that she sounds like she misses the Angelini Shoe Company.

  "In the end, Gram, we're still making shoes. It's all about the shoes."

  She laughs. "I guess you're right about that."

  "Gabriel moved in. I hope you don't mind."

  "I think it's great."

  "I do too. Now, here's the big question. He wants to redecorate. Now, if you don't want him to, I won't let him."

  "How do you feel about it?" Gram asks.

  My eyes sting with tears. "I guess I'm okay." But I'm not. I'd do anything if Gram would say, "Don't change a teacup. I'm on my way home." But that's never going to happen. Sometimes I think her move to Italy is God's way of preparing me for our final parting, which I do not like to think about--ever.

  "Valentine, I was apprehensive about moving over here. I was afraid to start all over again at my age. Yes, I had Dominic here to help me, but it's still an enormous change. But I swear, once I got past the fear and threw myself into life in Arezzo, I feel twenty years younger. Just waking up to different walls--never mind a new husband, a new village--has given me a whole new perspective. I've got a new pep about me. Don't be afraid of change."

  "Okay, okay," I say.

  "And don't be afraid of color. I always meant to put more color into the rooms."

  "Gram, Gabriel is choosing the paint chips--I don't think that's going to be a problem."

  The Bus Stop Cafe is empty. The groggy waitress pours us the first cups of coffee from the pot; we're her first patrons at the start of another long day. Greenwich Village is waking slowly, an occasional cab passes by on 8th Avenue, but the streets are empty, and the new morning sun throws very little light on my neighborhood.

  Bret pours the cream into my coffee, extra light, no sugar, just like I like it. We used to hang out at the Bus Stop Cafe when we were teenagers, and felt so grown up. Everything has changed in the world, except this diner. The fry cook, the owner, and the waitress are still here twenty years on.

  "We're old," he says.

  "What makes you say that?"

  "The staff."

  "Maybe they're old, and we're still young."

  "Keep dreaming. You don't have children yet. Now, that reminds you the clock is ticking."

  "What's it like?"

  "Kids? They're the best. They're always happy to see me. They're uncomplicated except when they want something, and then it's hard ball. Mostly, though, they just want to play. What could be better than that?"

  Bret hands me a file across the table. "Chan Inc. is the best manufacturer of shoes in Beijing. They build Kate Spade, Macy's private line, and get this: Nike's. They do all styles and materials, and the minimum order is only five thousand pairs."

  "Sounds promising."

  "Alfred contacted the reps. They need patterns when you can send them."

  "I'll scan them and send them right away. I'm surprised he's doing his job at all. His mind is elsewhere."

  "Well, you just stay focused. This is all going to work for you."

  "You know, good deal or not, I almost don't want to give Alfred the satisfaction of going to China. You know he's been pushing for it. But now I feel sorry for him, so I'm ready to sign on for whatever he wants to do."

  "Don't worry about Alfred. If it's a good business deal for you, it's a good deal period. No matter where you do production."

  "What do you think of Buenos Aires?"

  "I've heard it's gorgeous."

  "Well, I have another option to present to you. It turns out that I have a cousin down there. Roberta Angelini. And she runs a factory that makes men's shoes. I'm thinking about asking her to expand into women's wear."

  "Argentina is known for its superior leather goods."

  "That's what I was thinking. And you know I love the family business model. So then I was thinking, we could brand the Bella Rosa--you know, made by the Angelini family. We could do the cutting and assembly down there and the finishing here."

  "Now you're thinking like a marketing person."

  "There's something compelling about a family brand in tough times. It says something. You know, quality, attention to detail, tradition, that sort of thing."

  "So, how do we proceed? Do you want me to talk to Roberta?"

  "Her e-mail is in the folder. She just had a baby, so she's overwhelmed, but I told her about you--that you were putting together the financing package for us, and that you helped us secure the loan with the SBA, so that she understands that the money will be available once we've found the right factory. When I found out my great-grandfather had a brother, I Googled around and found Roberta. She told me she'd give me the whole story--Rafael's side--when I get there."

  "Lot of intrigue in the Angelini family."

  "And even more now that my brother is running around," I add.

  "It's hard to believe.
Alfred is so pious." Bret shakes his head.

  "Those are the ones to watch," I say.

  "No, you have to keep an eye out on all men. We're all vulnerable. You saved me from a big mistake last year.

  "You knocked some sense into me. You reminded me of everything I'd lose if I had an affair with Chase. I was really tempted. She was cute and young, and a lot of fun. Available. And I was close to messing up my whole life for nothing. I see the guys at work who fool around--and eventually, it catches up with them. The wife doesn't necessarily find out, but you see that they can't handle the guilt. And then all sorts of bad stuff starts happening: drinking too much for one. No, you showed up at the right moment. As you always do."

  "I will always tell you the truth--just as you are always honest with me."

  "You know, at the time, I actually believed that Chase was attracted to me. I really did--and what I realized, thanks to the expression on your face when you saw us together..."

  "What'd I do?"

  "You gave me the old Sister Bernadette scowl from Holy Agony on the roof of the Gramercy that night. The old 'I know what you're thinking, buddy.' Well, it made me think beyond what I wanted in that moment. We have a long history, Val, and you know me. I might see myself as a twenty-five-year-old--but I'm not--I'm careening towards forty, and I'm not complaining about it. Chase treated me like a peer, though, like I still had it.

  "But she wasn't interested in me, she was enamored of my power at the office and my position."

  "What happened?"

  "When the fund downsized, her opinion of me downsized almost instantly. You could say the biggest recession since the 1980s helped me stay faithful in my marriage."

  "Funny how that works."

  "Anyhow, I've never thanked you. You saved my marriage."

  "Why were you tempted? Mackenzie is a beauty--and she's so pulled together. Why would you even look at another woman?"

  Bret looks away and out the window. When we used to go together, I remember that look. He really thinks about things, in a way that I can appreciate and understand. We were like-minded then, and we still are. "Things change when the babies come. And Mac and I didn't have a lot of time together before we had the girls. It all happened very fast."