7
Moira - Fall - 2016
Moira pulledthe heavy wooden door by its loop-shaped metal handle and blessed the owners of Chez Nous with a silent prayer. Not all buildings in Brazil possessed climate control, but the quaint adobe structure that housed the trendy restaurant was a welcomed oasis after her long commute in a car without air conditioning. In a tropical island, the word autumn did not mean the same as in countries in the northern hemisphere. A person could sweat like a pig sitting in traffic during the months of BrazilianFall.
That had been the case for Moira. The AC unit in her car had been a goner for a while, but paying for her kids’ school and health insurance came on top of her priorities. She could always roll down the window and get some oceanbreeze.
“When the air isn’t fucking stifling as a sauna, that is,” she muttered to herself, as she dumped her backpack on the couch at the staffroom.
“That’s what you get for being stubborn, Moira Mathias,” a voice sounded behind Moira, startlingher.
“Shit! You scared me half to death. I didn’t notice you were in here.” Moira offered her colleague as an explanation, when Karen Razzini’s voice made her jump and knock the carafe and spill water on a table set up with cookies, coffee and water for the staff. “And it’s Moira Romano now. It’s been so for a couple ofyears.”
“You’re more OCD than me with this cleaning stuff.” Karen handed Moira the paper towel roll and plopped herself on thecouch.
Karen Razzini was Chez Nous’s bookkeeper. She was also Nelson Razzini’s sister. Nelson had partner with Tristan Knight and Noah Cartwright almost fifteen years ago to create the bistro. Their hard work had turned the restaurant into one of Floripa’s hottest gastronomic spots. Moira had been lucky Karen put in a good word with the owners when Bob vanished and secured Moira a job as bartender in the happy-hour shift, when the best tips stuffed the jars on the barcounter.
“What are you doing here? It’s not your regular bookkeepingday.”
Karen shrugged. “I had some papers for Nelson to sign, family stuff. Then, I decided to stay for happy hour. Who knows? I might meet someoneinteresting.”
Moira guffawed as she nodded toward the door, signaling for Karen to follow her. She needed to get the bar ready before opening it for customers. “More? Aren’t three boyfriendsenough?”
“There’s always room for a little extra happiness in my life. How about you? I swear to God, when we were in high school, and you started dating Bob, he gave me the creeps. I told you that, remember?” Moira nodded, and Karen went on. “You went and married the guy right after we finished highschool.”
Moira shrugged. “I didn’t realize he was a scumbag until many yearslater.”
“Speaking of which, is he still MIA, or has he grown some balls and started helping you take care of hischildren?”
“I’m fine withouthim.”
“No doubt, but I meant help pay for the bills. Tell me the house is yours, atleast.”
“I filed for divorce based on the fact that he abandoned his family, leaving me without means of providing for our kids. The judge ruled in my favor and transferred the house tome.”
“Not the business,though.”
“Bob had a partner, so the business is different. It doesn’t belong solely to Bob, and I have no legal part in the business. My lawyer has been trying to get a judge to agree to force Silvio Fernandes to set up a fund for my kids with the profits that Bob would have received from the advertising agency if he hadstayed.”
Karen scoffed. “I imagine Mr. Fernandes must have gotten thrilled with the prospect. Silvio and his bunch of dirty politicians love to throw moneyaway.”
“Right? I really dislike politics, though. In my opinion, the only thing Brazilian government seems to excel in is forcing people to pay more taxes. Too bad the money doesn’t return as properservices.”
Karen squinted her eyes. “I couldn’t agree more, but you’re going off the topic, and I bet it’sintentional.”
Moira deliberate shrug was meant to offer no commitment eitherway.
Karen didn’t buy it. “We’ve stablished you’re better off without Bob. Fine. That doesn’t mean being alone. I ran into Frank Mendes the other day. He asked me if you were seeing anyone because you haven’t been returning hiscalls.”
Another non-committal bob of her shoulders, as Moira swept the floor. “We went out a couple of times after you introduced him to me last year. I liked him, but the logistics wascomplicated.”
Karen grabbed a beer from the fridge and returned to the table she had been occupying. “He’s a cute single guy who lives fifteen minutes away from you. What could be complicated aboutthat?”
“How well do you knowFrank?”
Karen hesitated. “He’s a friend of my boyfriend’ssister.”
“Meaning, you don’t know him that well, correct? I don’t either. I don’t want to offer access to my house to a man I barely know. I’m thinking about my safety and that of my kids. Frank invited me over to his house. I also didn’t feel safe doingso.”
