NoHo Noir Short Fiction: 'Valentine's Day'

The third time the new manager drifted past Rouzan’s checkstand to tidy up the items on the end-cap display, Joaquin smirked. “Your boyfriend’s back,” he said to Rouzan, knowing it would annoy her.

Ralphs Supermarket

6:37 a.m.

She waved the bag boy off like an annoying fly, her attention focused on the customer in front of her. City Councilmember Barbara Zavala was a short, severe-looking woman who knew how to dress. Rouzan had met her when she held a meet and greet at the store and been impressed.

She’d sent all the store employees hand-written notes after the event, thanking them for their help. After what had happened in Arizona though, there wouldn’t be any more parking lot gatherings.

"Thanks Rouzan,” the councilwoman said as she dumped her change into her purse. “See you soon ... Gracias Joaquin,” she added as she took her bag.

You really are good. Rouzan thought, I hope you win your election.

The new manager walked by for the fourth time. Rouzan gave him a smile. He was kind of cute in that goofy geek kind of way.

***

Celia was still asleep when Eric walked into their bedroom carrying the breakfast tray with a plate of French toast garnished with berries and powdered sugar, just like they made it at Hugo’s. He’d looked the recipe up online and followed the directions exactly.

The first batch had been a little burnt but this second was perfect. Everything was perfect—the French toast, the coffee, the tall glass of orange juice. He’d added a vase with a single, sunset-colored rose in it. The rose was from their backyard so it actually smelled rosy and not like nothing.

Celia opened her eyes as he put the tray on the table next to her. She had those little boogers in the corner of her eyes, which was not that appealing, but Eric could work with that.

She looked over at the clock and saw it was only 7:30. “What the hell Eric? It’s only 7:30.” Celia was not a morning person.

She rolled away from him and snuggled back under the covers.

Eric and Celia’s house

7:30 a.m.

“I made breakfast for you,” he said. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She sighed visibly and sat up in bed.

“That was sweet of you,” she said without much enthusiasm as he balanced the tray on her legs. She leaned forward to kiss him and he tried not to gag at her breath. They’d chowed down on garlic pizzas at Little Toni’s the night before and the garlic had fermented or something.

He flinched as their lips touched and accidentally knocked the orange juice over. She jerked back and the whole tray went flying, sending French toast and coffee and the rose to the floor.

Eric fingered the ring box in his pocket. This was going the way he’d imagined.

***

“Somebody got flowers,” the receptionist said to Anna Lee as she entered her mother’s office and took off her jacket.

Office of Lee Realty

8:59 a.m.

It was a big arrangement, heavy on pink, in a heart-shaped vase. The receptionist looked on avidly as Anna opened the card and read the message. “Happy Valentine’s Day Anna. Love Dad.”

Anna tried not to let her disappointment show. She knew it was silly. Devin wasn’t a send flowers kind of guy. He didn’t really do boxes of candy either. In fact, come to think of it, Devin really didn’t do much of anything. His Christmas present to her had been a gift card.

“Who’re they from?” the receptionist asked.

Anna thought about lying and saying they were from her boyfriend but she figured the girl had already read the card and would know better and then she’d look weak.

 “My dad,” she said.

“Did that guy from Hong Kong call us back?”

***

Lem Majewski had only visited Marta once since the funeral but he figured she’d expect him on Valentine’s Day. They’d always made a big deal of the holiday because they’d met on February 14th when he’d come into the flower shop where she worked to buy a bouquet for his mother. It was late in the day and the shop was pillaged, but she’d pulled a flower from this arrangement and another from that and put it all together and by the time she was done, he knew that he’d be back and not to buy flowers.

Pierce Brothers Valhalla Memorial Park

11:47 a.m.

She’d been keeping company with a neighbor boy, he remembered. A big galoot who had a two-tone Chevy and plenty of money to spend. His name had been David. He’d been very surprised when Marta chose Lem. The woman he’d married had looked a lot like her. He’d invited Marta and Lem to the wedding. They’d declined but sent him a nice tea kettle from the May Company.

12:15 p.m.

On his way out of the cemetery, Lem passed an old black man in a Hawaiian shirt who looked vaguely familiar. He was carrying a multi-colored bunch of flowers that looked like he’d gathered them from his yard. He nodded at the guy, who nodded back.

Clarence Garrett knew he’d seen the old guy before but couldn’t recollect just where. It bothered him that he couldn’t recall names and faces the way he used to could. But then, he was 90 and a man was bound to lose a step when he entered his tenth decade.

Clarence missed his wife. He used to visit her more often when he still lived in the Valley but since he’d moved in with Jim, it was a long drive. He still had his license—nothing wrong with his eyesight—but he didn’t like being in traffic.

Pearl had been a good woman and hadn’t deserved the foolishness she’d had to put up with from him. When Jim’s mother had died, Pearl had taken the boy in and raised him as her own. She’d loved him too and in the end; he’d been more hers than his.  

“Happy Valentine’s Day sweetheart,”’ he said.

***

Shari was feeling stressed. She was pulling together a presentation for her boss and she’d just wasted half an hour on the phone with Helen Parrish, the firm’s biggest client. She was a nice enough woman who always gave Shari a check for Christmas, but she’d talk your ear off given half the chance. And you couldn’t just hang up on your firm’s biggest client.

Office of Economou, Deeter & Bailey

2:57 p.m.

She looked up from her work when she heard the front door open. The bouquet of heart-shaped balloons was so big the delivery guy had a hard time wrangling them through the opening.

“Shari Gaines?” he asked.

“That’s me.”

“For you,” he said, handing the balloons over. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

OMG,

Shari ripped open the card.

“You are the breath in my body. You are the flame in my soul. You are the love of my life. Always, Heather.

Shari hugged the card to her chest and smiled.

***

Amanda Gold opened the door to find one of her husband’s assistants standing there with a bunch of antheriums in his hand. So James didn’t forget it was Valentine’s Day after all, she thought.

Home of Amanda and James Gold

3:20 p.m.

“Hi Jack,” said.

“Hi Mrs. Gold,” Jack said, offering the flowers. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She took the flowers, pleasantly surprised that James hadn’t sent the usual generic arrangement of long-stemmed red roses and baby’s breath. She opened the card.

Kayla—

Happy Valentine’s Day.

You’re a Technicolor woman in a black and white world.

Love, James

Amanda looked up at Jack, standing there in a suit he’d probably put on a credit card so he could look like a player at his industry networking events, and smiled.

She handed the flowers back to him but held onto the card. “You effed up Jack,” she said sweetly. “If I were you, I wouldn’t bother going back to the office.”

He looked confused.

“Why not?”

“I’m guessing you’ve got another bouquet in your car. Big bunch of long-stemmed roses with baby’s breath?”

The kid blanched. He was getting the picture.

“I already delivered those,” he said. And as if on cue, his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and just put the phone back in his pocket unanswered.

Sucks to be you, Amanda thought. I wouldn’t count on getting a letter of recommendation.

“Good luck,” she said as she closed the door.

***

Jim Garrett watched his grandson demolish an ultimate grilled burrito with chips and salsa on the side as if he hadn’t eaten for a week. Boy was sprouting up like a weed. He was already almost as tall as his father and hadn’t even hit his growing spurt yet.

El Pollo Loco

10944 Magnolia Blvd.

North Hollywood, CA 91601

4:30 p.m.

Ty’s mother had wanted him out of the house so she could have a romantic evening with her dentist. Hadn’t she been surprised to find out that James had a date of his own.

 ***

Rob Cervantes was running late for dinner with Lyla. Her daughter was spending the night with her best friend so there wouldn’t be any awkward breakfast-table conversation in the morning like the first time he’d stayed over.

He’d been almost to Lyla’s house when he realized he’d left the bottle of wine at his office. Lyla wouldn’t care—she had a wine closet her ex-husband had built and stocked—but it was Valentine’s Day. And even though they’d only been dating six weeks, he didn’t want to show up empty-handed.

Circus Liquor

7:48 p.m.

He got in line behind a pudgy kid with a six-pack of imported beer in one hand and a family-size bag of chips in the other. Embarrassed when the debit card transaction failed, the kid had stormed out of the store. Rob felt sorry for the kid. He remembered what it was like to be dead broke.

***

Christo Garland was feeling sorry for himself. His roommate Ash had told him to get lost for the night because his boyfriend Todd was coming over and he wanted the place to himself. Christo wasn’t sure what made the night so different from the other nights that Todd stayed over, but whatever.

Christo’s car

8:01 p.m.

His friend Jack had invited him to some titty bar but he’d turned him down because none of his good clothes still fit and he didn’t have the money anyway. His mom has been sending him checks every month but they just barely covered his rent.

I gotta get a job.

The thought depressed him. He pulled into a drive-through Jack in the Box and ordered egg rolls, large curly fries, onion rings and a drink. He had just enough in his wallet to pay for the meal.

I really gotta get a job.

***

Jill was asleep when Ethan got home. He’d been picking up some hours working as a security guard while he was on suspension for the dog thing. The money sucked but the job got him out of the house.

Ethan and Jill’s apartment

9:15 p.m.

She was curled up like a cat on the sofa, the baby sleeping on her chest, his little fists clenched tight in her shirt. Ethan felt such a rush of love looking at the baby that it was almost a physical ache. He hadn’t expected to care so much about the little guy. He hadn’t expected to feel like a father.

But then, there were a lot of things that he was feeling lately that he hadn’t expected to feel.

Jill had named the baby Nathaniel, after the guy in 208 who had stepped in when she went into labor. “It was the least I could do,” Jill had told Ethan. “And it’s a beautiful name.”

Ethan woke Jill when he detached the baby and carried him to his crib. Jill followed him into the baby’s room and slipped her arms around Ethan, hugging him from behind. “How was work?” she asked him drowsily.

“Fine,” he said. And then before he could lose his nerve, he blurted out, “Jilly, I’m gay.”

***

“I love this place,” Jessica Ruttan said as she finished off a plate of sweet cherry strudel with poppy seeds. “I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.”

Maximillians

11330 Weddington Street

North Hollywood, CA 91601

10:30 p.m.

Chris Sillesen smiled at her, happy that she was happy.

“That Cinzano cocktail was amazing.”

“Want another?” he asked.

“No, I’m good.” She smiled back at him, more relaxed than she’d felt since the early afternoon when her boss had gotten a phone call that had sent him into a slobbering rage. He’d left the office about an hour later but had kept calling in, barking orders at his assistants until they were near tears. It didn’t help that his new second assistant, Jack, had texted his resignation with no explanation. Millennials, she thought. They don’t really want to pay their dues.

Chris nudged her hand, cocked his head in the direction of the couple at the next table. “That’s my councilwoman,” he said, pointing out Barbara Zavala. “I landscaped her back yard last year.” Jessica had seen pictures of Barbara but she looked prettier in person, softer. She was with a man who looked 20 years older, and both of them were smiling.

“They’re sweet together,” she said to him.

“They met in high school,” he told her.

“You’re kidding. He looks a lot older.”

Chris looked troubled. “Cancer,” he said. “She didn’t want to run again but he told her he wanted her to.”

“He told you that?”

“He was home when I was doing the work. Used to come out and talk to me. He’s a nice guy.”

“That’s so sad,” Jessica said.

“It’s not over till it’s over,” Chris replied. But Jessica, whose mother had died of breast cancer after a six-year battle, didn’t share his optimism. And suddenly she felt close to tears.

“Are you all right?” Chris asked, looking concerned.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s been a long day.”

He was looking at her so seriously that she added, “Really, I’m fine.”

He nodded thoughtfully and put a small box on the table in front of her. “Happy Valentine’s Day Jess.”

She picked it up and flipped the lid. Inside was a sapphire ring flanked by two small diamonds.

 “It was my mother’s,” he said. “Jessica Ruttan, will you marry me?”