I had no Shanghai girl, so instead I pushed myself to the limit, not taking any time off until my body screamed it had to get away now. Then I’d be forced into a situation of planning something at the last minute, and trying to find someone to cover my shifts. When I’d call Robbie in Australia to let him know, he was always cool about it. He knew what it was like in Angeles. Heaven and Hell, he’d call it. “Why do you think I don’t spend more time there?”
Cathy was always one of the first ones to know what was going on with me. The way she could read me sometimes was almost scary.
“It’s time, isn’t it?” she asked me the night Isabel made her announcement about Larry’s imminent arrival.
“Okay, you lost me,” I said.
Instead of my normal place, I was standing at the end of the bar nearest the front door. It was the mood I was in-antsy, I guess you’d call it. I just couldn’t sit still.
Cathy, like a shadow I couldn’t shake or really wanted to, stood on her side of the counter nearby.
“No,” she said. “I don’t think so.”
“If we’re playing some sort of word game, I’m not interested.”
“It’s definitely time.”
“Time for what?” My voice came out harsher than I had intended. About ten feet away, a couple of the girls who had been talking stopped and looked over to see what was wrong.
But Cathy looked at me, unaffected by my tone. “Have you called Robbie yet?”
That silenced me for a moment. I’d called Robbie just before I came to work. “How did you know?”
“I told you before, you can’t hide anything from me.”
She had told me that, on numerous occasions. And, as always, I chose to believe it was just lucky intuition. But truthfully, until I found Natt in Bangkok, no one ever knew me as well as Cathy did. Blessed twice, fucked up once. God, don’t let me fuck up again.
“Yeah. I called him.”
She smiled. “When you leaving?”
“I don’t know. In a couple days I guess.”
“Alone?”
“Alone.”
She nodded to herself. Apparently it was the answer she expected. “You want a beer?”
“Please.”
The next morning, Isabel went to Manila to meet Larry. By both accounts, their reunion was everything they both had hoped for. Victor, the guy Larry hired to bring Isabel down to Manila and both of them back to Angeles, apparently told several people that Isabel and Larry spent the entire trip whispering, then kissing, then whispering some more.
That evening at around eight thirty p.m., Isabel brought Larry into The Lounge. She was a half-hour late for her shift, but we all knew what was going on, so there was no reason to call her on it.
The minute Larry saw me, he extended his hand. “Doc,” he said. He looked much the same as the last time I’d seen him, except the smile. It was larger. “How are you?”
We shook warmly, like old friends. “Good to see you, Larry,” I said. “How was the trip?”
“Long.”
I laughed. “It is that. When did you get in?”
“We got to Angeles about noon. Isabel met me at the airport.”
“I heard.”
His smile grew a little more, not the knowing leer a newly arrived whoremonger would give me, but a shy, almost embarrassed, grin. “I pretty much slept most of the afternoon.” I saw his eyes flick past me. “Hi, Cathy.”
“Welcome back, Larry,” Cathy said. “San Miguel?”
“Sure.”
She put a bottle on the counter, opened it and then wrapped a napkin around the top. Larry started to reach for the bottle, then stopped.
“That reminds me,” he said.
He lifted up his left hand, and for the first time I noticed he was carrying a duffel bag. There was a thud as he set it on the bar.
“Should I be worried?” I asked.
“You tell me.”
He unzipped the bag. It was stuffed full with those white Styrofoam pellets used to pack things that were fragile. He shoved a hand in, and when he pulled it back out he was holding a bottle of Gordon Biersch Marzen.
“There’s ten in there,” he said. “It’s all I could fit in the bag. There’re two more in my suitcase back at the hotel to make an even dozen.”
“You son of a bitch,” I said, grinning broadly. “Thanks.”
Cathy began pulling the rest out of the bag.
“They’re all warm, so you can’t drink them right away,” Larry told me.
“Bullshit.” I turned to Cathy. “Can you get me a cold glass and a bottle opener?”
“Sure, Doc.”
“Have one with me,” I said to Larry.
“No, thanks. This will do me just fine,” he said, raising his San Miguel.
He and Isabel stayed for an hour, maybe two. After a few bottles of Marzen and a lot of laughs, I mentioned my upcoming vacation. When he asked me where I was going, I said, “Boracay Island, I think. Haven’t been there in over a year.”
“I heard of that place,” Larry said. “Nice?”
“One of the prettiest spots in the world.”
He asked me when I was leaving, and I told him I didn’t know yet, that I hadn’t bought my tickets. Not long after that, it was time for them to leave. And for the second time since she began working in Angeles, Isabel allowed herself to be bar fined. Only it wasn’t just a one-night EWR. Larry paid enough so that she could be with him his entire ten-day stay in the Philippines.
About an hour after they left, Mariella showed up. Whereas Isabel could have been a superstar but refused, her cousin, who’d been granted the same opportunity, grabbed onto it with both hands, nails dug in deep. She strode into The Lounge, a beauty-queen smile planted firmly on her face, instantly drawing the attention of everyone. Several of the girls screamed in delight at seeing her, while I noticed a few others moving quietly toward the back of the room, having no desire to talk to the woman who now commanded center stage.
Mariella had never been one of my favorites. Everything was drama around her-everything. And while she brought in more than her share of cash when she worked at The Lounge, there were days when I couldn’t help wishing she was someone else’s problem. When she finally did leave, the reason for which is still not clear to me, Cathy and I toasted quietly at the bar with champagne. She probably had more reason than anyone at that time to hate Mariella.
“Papa Jay, how are you?” Mariella had finally found her way to me, her voice dripping with all the false concern it had the last time I’d seen her.
“I’m fine,” I said, more subdued than I’d been just prior to her arrival. “How are you?”
“Good, thank you.” She leaned in and kissed me on each cheek, European style.
“Night off?” I asked.
“I make my own schedule.” Which, at The Lotus Club where she then worked, was entirely possible. “How about you buy me a drink?”
I considered saying no, but what the hell. “Sure. What do you want?”
“White wine.”
I turned to the bar, expecting to find Cathy standing there, but she was nowhere to be seen. I called over Analyn, one of the other bartenders, and had her get Mariella the wine.
There were a few moments of awkward silence. I had no desire to continue in conversation with Mariella, yet she seemed to be waiting for me to ask her something. When she finally realized I wasn’t going to, she said, “I hear Isabel was here with her new boyfriend.”
“For a while,” I said.
“That’s good, that’s good,” she said.
More silence.
“What’s his name?” she asked. “I can’t remember.”
“Who?”
“Isabel’s boyfriend.”
“I can’t remember, either.” I don’t know why Mariella was so interested in her cousin’s business, but it just didn’t feel right and I was in no mood to help her.