The Spia Family Presses On - By Mary Leo Page 0,64
Jade Batista.
The big white tour bus idled in our parking lot in front of our tasting room like it did most days. My mom had made friends with most of the tour guides, and knew several of the drivers on a first name basis. I didn’t have a problem talking the guide into taking Jade after I offered everyone on the bus a free three-once bottle of our oil. Luckily, there were only thirty people on the bus and the tiny bottles were a great promotional device. It was one of those win-win moments.
Jade and I stood in front of the bus handing out the oil as everyone boarded. They smiled, thanked us and went away with both the oil and a brochure detailing Spia’s olive oil club. For about forty dollars every quarter, the participant received two bottles of extra virgin olive oil of our choice, along with a few recipes, and a fifteen percent discount on any online purchase. A great deal for the EVOO connoisseur.
“You have someone to pick you up at the bus drop-off and someone to stay with for a few days, right?” I asked her. I had to make sure she would be safe.
She nodded. “My ex-boyfriend.”
I could tell she was scared, and I felt sorry for her. I knew that feeling well. Plus she kept running her hand over the welt on her head, which was already turning a deep purple.
My shoulder was sore and stiff. Whatever drug they had given me in the hospital was wearing off and it was time for another dose from that filled prescription my mom had picked up.
“Here,” she said pulling off her engagement ring. “Tell Dickey I don’t want to be engaged anymore. I don’t like car chases and sneaking around. That’s for movies and books, not for real life.”
I closed her hand around the ring. “You keep it. Believe me, he doesn’t need it. Sell it and use the money for something you want.”
“I can’t do that. It’s not right.”
“Consider it payment for all you went through today.”
“No, I—”
“Trust me on this.”
She smiled and slipped it back on her finger.
“Tell me about your ex.”
“He’s just a guy I met when I first moved to the city. We were going to get married, but he didn’t like me writing to Dickey or working on the island. I only wrote to Dickey because of research for my thesis, ya know? Same reason I worked on the island. When Dickey was released, part of me got engaged to him just to show my ex I’m my own person, ya know? But it was all a game.”
She piqued my curiosity. “A game?”
“Yeah. Confidentially, all that stuff about sex with Dickey, I made that up. I only ever slept with one other boy in my entire life before Jay-Jay, that’s his name. And really, all we did was sleep together, and maybe fool around a little, but nothing serious happened. I was a virgin when I first made it with Jay-Jay. I don’t like to admit that. Makes me sound like a real nerd or something, which I kinda’ was before I moved to San Francisco. Ruins the mystique, ya know? I don’t even know if I would have gone through with it with Dickey. I mean, the guy was old enough to be my grandfather, ya know?”
I smiled. “I know. We all like to play games with our sexual prowess.”
“Yeah, that’s for sure. Even Dickey.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for all his bravado, he told me he never slept with that Carla woman. That she told him she really was a virgin, and meant to keep it that way until she was married.”
“But I thought they were having an affair?”
“That’s what she wanted everyone to think, just like our affair. He said he thought she was playing him and all she really wanted was for some other guy to get jealous and marry her.”
“Some other guy?”
“Yeah. Dickey said he really loved Carla, but she didn’t love him. He said it was sort of like Sophia Loren, Cary Grant and Carlo Ponti. I mean, I know who Sophia Loren is, and everybody knows Cary Grant, but I have no idea who this Carlo Ponti dude is or was, but anyway, he said that somebody killed Carla before she could marry her Carlo Ponti. Does this make any sense to you?”
I nodded. I knew all the details because of Aunt Babe. It was one of her classic Hollywood love triangles. “So Carla