Free The Orange Blossom Special by Betsy Carter Page B

“There’s this fella who comes up from Fort Lauderdale, he runs the Jai Alai fronton down there. We print all of his programs.”
    â€œThe Baron!” said Maynard.
    â€œYou know him?”
    â€œEveryone in the state of Florida knows the Baron,” said Maynard. “He used to be a starving painter in Paris. Now he’s a businessman worth more than a million. Fascinating story.”
    â€œQuite a character,” said Tessie, trying to sound neutral.
    â€œA horny one at that,” laughed Maynard. “Though he’s a monk compared to the Baroness.”
    â€œThe Baroness, who’s that?” Tessie cocked her head.
    â€œFran Antonucci. Barone’s wife. The former—quote, dancer from Teaneck, New Jersey, unquote.” Maynard raised his eyebrows. “Whoo, that woman can drink any man under the table. And she’s built like a brick you-know-what house.”
    Tessie took another sip of the wine. “I’ve heard that,” she lied.
    Just then, Victoria jumped up and clapped her hands together. “All right now, it’s showtime. Crystal and her friend have prepared a song for us.”
    Dinah’s right, thought Tessie. That woman really doesn’t know her name.
    The girls had made up their own dance to the popular song “Lollipop.” They snapped their fingers, bent their knees, and wiggled their hips in time to the simple rhythm. “Lollipop, lollipop, oh lolli lolli lolli . . .” Charlie sat behind the girls, playing the bongos as they acted out the song. He watched his sister with a smile. Crystal could put a bag over her head or jump up and down in place, and she’d still be cute. She danced with the ease and confidence of someone who didn’t worry how she looked. But the other girl, Dinah, there was an awkwardness in her step, something hesitant about the way she kept looking to Crystal for confirmation that she was doing it right. If Crystal abandoned herself to joy, Dinah seemed intent on keeping it at bay.
    He watched Mrs. Lockhart take deep drags on her cigarette, her eyes darting as if to take in the ceramic birdbath, the pool, the brass sundial, the fountain that cascaded into the pool, the cutting garden, the grasses, the enormous house that went as far as the eye could see. Nervous, he thought. She wonders what she’s doing here. She can’t figure out how a nice man like my father ended up with a spoiled woman like my mother. She’s not bad looking. If she did something with that limp hair and wore less dowdy clothes, she would be quite attractive. God help me, I am starting to sound like my mother.
    Victoria lit a Salem and lay cross-legged on her chaise. The nighttime air was smoky and sweet with frangipani. There was a soft breeze. “For all the misery in the world, there is this night,” Victoria said to Maynard and Tessie. The girls were winding it up, thrusting their arms forward, and rolling their l’s from the back of their palettes. “. . . oh lolli lolli lolli. Lollipop!”
    â€œWhoever wrote that song had the IQ of a water bug,” Maynard whispered. Victoria laughed and swatted him on the thigh. Tessiewondered what Victoria could possibly know about misery. Everyone clapped for the girls. Then Victoria stood up again and announced, “Charlie has a special song he would like to sing. And he will accompany himself on the guitar.”
    Charlie stood next to the grill, his wide face backlit by a citronella candle. He strummed the guitar and bobbed his head up and down before he began to sing. The song started out innocently enough—something about an old man and his cat. But then came the chorus:
    The cat came back, the very next day
The cat came back, we thought she was a goner
But the cat came back, she just couldn’t stay away.
    He never took his eyes off Tessie. When he finished, Tessie clapped harder than anyone. Dinah tried not to stare at her. “What