Page 2 of Gulfside Girls
As Archie’s mood turned from blustery to partly sunny, Jerry showed up. He’d hidden from Archie and so that Ali would have to deal with it. True to form, and Jerry appeared after she’d managed to fix things. She knew Jerry was lurking and hiding until he knew it was safe. Until she’d made it safe.
Jerry and Archie were two barrel-shaped peas in a pod. Archie was older, his hair crisscrossed in wisps and tufts over his round head. His skin was at least less red now that he had stopped shouting. Archie wore a golf shirt with his company logo. Jerry had a full head of brown hair and was younger by a decade than Archie, but golf shirt, check, pot belly, check.
Jerry fit right in with Archie. Jerry also enjoyed yelling at Ali when something didn’t go his way. Delightful. Jerry was all smiles now as he swept over to them.
“Archie! Great to see you!”
The two shook hands. Ali needed to get out of here and get to her next task. Were they done? Was Archie all set?
“Jerry, I was mad, not gonna lie. Thought you were trying to screw me over on this deal, but this will work. We’ll make it work for the price.”
“What can I say, Ali wrote the wrong thing down on the layout. I told her, ‘Get Archie everything and anything he needs for T-Town H&C.’ She’s pretty, but ya know.” Jerry laughed and put his finger to his head to indicate Ali was just pretty. Jerry was the brains and Ali didn’t have any. Really nice, Jerry. Ali swallowed and smiled. She’d rather get out of this conversation than prolong it by sticking up for herself.
She thought, at forty-nine, she’d be past this kind of thing. But not where Jerry was concerned.
“I thought that might be the case.” Archie and Jerry looked at Ali as though she was a child who’d just spilled her milk at the adult’s table.
Jerry had made this mess, assigned Ali to clean it, and now was taking credit for the solution.Typical.
Jerry was a “big picture” guy, he liked to say. He got credit for running one of the best venues in Ohio. He got civic awards, he got the salary, he got the golf outings, and he got the long lunches.
Ali did the details; Jerry got the handshakes.Fine. Whatever.
She needed to get out of this and on to the next thing, which today, of course, meant swinging by her dad’s. He had hospice care now, but she needed to pop in and make sure he was okay. Half of the time that meant sleeping at her dad’s. Just in case he needed something.
And “okay” was relative. Her dad didn’t have long. And that fact had put a dark cloud over her for the last several months. She was an optimist, a look-forward person, a bright-side oldest daughter. But there was no more bright side to be found with her dad’s cancer. They were at the “keep him comfortable” stage.
“Gentleman, I’ll get out of your way.” She backed out of the conversation and they barely noticed.
No sooner did she leave Archie and Jerry than she was on her phone handling half a dozen other details on her way to the parking garage. Ali walked at a fast pace as she dealt with details from her phone.
The coffee vendor backed out; they’d promised a free cup of coffee to all attendees who arrived before 11 am. She needed to sort that out. She called her food service manager.
“If Black Swamp Beans says no, then I’m going to want you to call Gordon’s to get our order for next week’s school administrator conference moved to this week. We’ll serve the coffee ourselves.”
Ali finished that call on her way out of the massive main hall. She unclipped her walkie-talkie and pressed the button. “Carl, you on?”
“Yeah, Boss.”
“Don’t let Jerry here ya say that,” she laughed. Ali wasn’t the boss, but her co-workers at Frogtown gave her the respect she didn’t get from Jerry.
“Right, like he’s on the walkie.”
One of the reasons she loved her job was the staff at Frogtown Convention Center. They had become her work family. Jerry got the accolades, but her work family knew the truth about who ran the place. She was glad no one saw her smile at Carl’s assessment of Jerry. She never badmouthed Jerry to anyone on staff.
“Stop! Hey, can you make sure they figure out why those lights in the C Corridor are blinking?”
“On it. Get out of here, you’re going on what? Thirteen hours in this place?”
“Who’s counting? I am heading out for a bit.”
“How’s your dad?”
“Worse, but thanks for asking.”
“Consider the lights fixed.”
“You’re the best!”
