The Big Money (Emily)
My dad hangs up and puts the phone back in his pocket.
”Dad, you have to let Steel have a dealership,” I say.
“What?” my dad blurts.
“But it’s only fair. You’re giving one to each of my brothers, I should get one too.”
“But it would be in Steel’s name, not yours.”
“It wouldn’t matter, we’d be married. Plus it would solve two problems, the visa and the job,” I say.
“How does it solve the job? You’re going to have the owner being the guy detailing the cars?” my dad says.
“No, Steel can sell,” I say. So can I, but I’ll leave that for another day.
“That’s ridiculous,” my dad says.
Steel clears his throat, and says, “A carny can sell anything to anyone.”
“Fleecing them on a fixed game is a little different from selling cars,” my dad says.
“Are you sure about that?” Steel asks, his eyebrow arched.
“Besides, no one in their right mind is going to buy a car from a salesman with a neck tattoo,” my dad says.
“Don’t you sell any sports cars?” Steel asks.
“Of course. I’ve got a few Chevy dealerships that sell sports cars. What does that matter?”
“Because I bet those customers wish they were rebels. They don’t want to buy a sports car from some nerdy car salesman who smells like cabbage. They want to buy from someone like me, a bad ass with a neck tattoo, so they can imagine they’re one too. They want to be me, so they’ll buy a car from me.”
Suddenly, a belly laugh erupts from my dad, and he tilts his chair back as he laughs.
“That’s a great idea,” I say, squeezing Steel’s hand.
“It’s a pipe dream,” my dad says, wiping the tears from his face.
“Let me prove it. Tomorrow. You put me in your dealership, and if I sell one car, we have a deal,” Steel says.
Through his laughing, my father says, “Tell you what, since there’s no way in hell you’re going to be able to sell a car tomorrow, I’ll take you up on that deal. You sell a car, I’ll give you the quarter of a million to fund your own dealership.”
“You’d better honor that promise when Steel sells a car,” I say. I can’t believe what an asshole my father is being. If we were in the carnival, I’d stick him in the Loosey Goosey.
“If Steel sells a car, I’ll give you a dealership, and a house.”
“Greg, there’s no need to be rude,” my mom says.
“All I’m asking for is a shot, is all,” Steel says, flicking his hand in the air.
“Even if you sell ten cars, you still have to go back to Canada for two months to get the visa,” my dad says.
“That’s fine. We’ll go together, right, Steel?” I say, looking at him.
“You know I want to show you Niagara Falls,” he says, his blue eyes sparkling.
“Perfect. It’s going to be fun,” I say.
There’s no doubt in my mind that Steel will be successful. He can do anything.
“Wait a second, Emily, don’t go getting your hopes up. He has to sell a car first, and there’s not much chance of even my best salesman selling a car on a customer’s first visit to the lot.”
“So then give him more time,” I say.
“You know I can’t do that, I’m not risking having an illegal worker there for more than a day. You’re lucky I’m giving you anything at all.”
If Steel can’t sell a car tomorrow, my baby is going to be born in Canada. There’s no way I can get through this pregnancy and birth without Steel. Besides, I’m not about to live by myself in Woburn, and all the gossip in town would be about how a carny knocked me up and abandoned me. I’m not staying here and listening to that.
* * *
It’s after eight pm, and I’m lying on the bed in the Motel 6. Steel didn’t want me at the dealership with him, and neither did my father.
I dropped him off at the Woburn Chevy dealership at eight thirty this morning, and haven’t heard from him since. Steel has an idea he’ll sell a shiny, new Corvette, but my dad said he’d give him a dealership if he managed to sell anything, even if it’s the cheapest used car on the lot.
He’s wearing his black jeans, and the black buttoned shirt he bought for our wedding. All the other salesmen always wear suits, or at least suit pants and dress shirts and he thought he should at least try to look like he works there. Though I did noticed he shoved in his Metallica t-shirt in his backpack that he took with him.
My mother and I hung out at the mall for awhile this afternoon. We bought baby books, and looked at baby clothes. It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to think about the fun side of babies, and we had a good time.
We even grabbed an early dinner in the food court before I came back here.
It’s kind of freaky. She’s treating me completely differently now. She hasn’t once tried to tell me what to do, or even implied I don’t know what I’m doing.
My mom has been strangely intrigued by my time in the carnival, and yelped in excitement when I told her about the Ferris wheel wedding. Though I left out The Gravitron.
The change in her is shocking, but Steel was certainly right when he predicted it. I only hope he’s getting along okay under my father’s glare.
My phone hasn’t beeped all day, and I check it again to make sure the sound is on.
I get off the bed, grab a wrapped glass from the shelf, and walk to the bathroom. The tap is stiff, so I fill it from the bathtub faucet.
Taking a sip, I sit on the end of the bed and switch on the tv. There’s nothing on, so I flip through the channels. It’s amazing how long you can flick for, especially when you’re trying not to think about things.
I manage to watch an entire episode of Seinfeld on some high-numbered channel.
It’s now nine o’clock, and I can’t take it any longer. I thought Steel would’ve been home hours ago, he’s been there almost thirteen hours now.
The pit in my stomach is telling me one thing, the thing I’ve been trying to not face, all evening. Steel must not have sold anything, and is refusing to leave until the minute they close.
Are you coming back?
A moment later, my phone rings. It’s Steel.
“Hey,” I say.
“Goldie,” he says. There’s a lot of noise in the background, and it’s difficult to hear him.
“Is everything okay? Are you coming home,” I can’t resist any longer, “Did you sell a car?”
The only sound is of the busy bar.
“Steel?”
“No, I didn’t sell a car.”
The way he said ‘a’ gives me hope, though I might’ve misheard through the noise.
“Did you sell two?”
“I didn’t sell any cars. No one wanted to buy a car from me.”
The pit in my stomach grows bigger. I guess my baby’s going to be Canadian.
“Well, you tried,” I say, my voice flat.
“But I sold two pick-ups!”
“Shut up!” I squeal.
“Yeah, turns out the guys buying pick-ups like to see themselves as bad asses too. And there are a lot more people buying pick-ups than sports cars.”
“Holy shit, what did my dad do?”
“He was gone when I sold the first one. But he saw the whole second one, and we’ve been here celebrating at the bar ever since.”
“What the fuck? You didn’t think you should tell me? I’ve been sitting here going out of my mind.”
“Sorry, babe. We’re just trying to figure out the money side with Rob.”
“He’s there too?” Unbelievable. Why am I the last to know?
“He only got here after dinner.”
“You had dinner with my dad?”
“We shared a mountain of suicide wings.”
I give my head a shake to make sure I’m not imagining things. Steel and my dad getting along?
“I can’t believe it, am I hearing you right?”
“Everything’s good. Your dad’s actually a pretty good guy, once you get to know him.”
“What about his precious reputation?”
“He says once his buddies at the Lions Club all meet me, they’ll love me.”
Figures his reputation matters in context to his friends.
“Let me guess, you two bonded over beer.”
“Beer and the smell of success,” Steel says, laughing.
“Does this mean we’re going to Canada for two months?” I’ve never been to Canada before, and it sounds like another fun adventure — now that I know I’m coming back afterwards. Even though I’ll be five months pregnant when we get back.
“It most certainly does.”