The Matrons of Regal Bay
Chapter 12
Gloria's Tales -- Part 3
It was Easter weekend in Regal Bay, the second weekend of April, and Gloria had been looking forward to a quiet one. Most of her close family was away on spring break vacations. In fact, only her daughter Gina was spending the holiday weekend in Regal Bay. As a result, the elder Van Winkle thought she'd give her daughter a call. That call quickly went from pleasant to something less in a manner of minutes, thanks in no small part to Coors Light beer.
"Mom, I just don't want to keep hooking up with guys who only want to fuck, fish, and free-load. And believe me, that's the only kind of guys around this shit-hole of a town that want to do anything with an old bitch like me."
Gloria was sitting at her breakfast table that Saturday enjoying light lunch that her house-keeper had prepared, listening once again to the dismay her daughter Gina seemed to enjoy spewing her way, at least once a week. Gina was the twin sister of Ginger, Gloria's oldest children, and even now as she advanced into her late forties, Gina was still the black sheep of the Van Winkle family.
"Gina, Gina, Gina," Gloria clucked. "I really wish you would stop worrying about settling into a relationship of any kind, with any kind of man. You need to relax more, and get out and enjoy your life. Regal Bay is a wonderful place, if you'd only take the time to enjoy it."
"Mother, I grew up in this fish-breath town, remember," Gina retorted. "I know this place and I know that there isn't anything around here that I want to do. I don't like hanging around the beaches or parks, I don't like going out to clubs with all of these college kids and their drugs and music, and I don't like spending any amount of time at your golf club. I don't like golf and I don't like the people that are always snobbing around, sticking their hands out looking for some Van Winkle charity."
"But you do like spending time up at the Cattle Ranch or the Pecos Bill Salon up by the highway, don't you?" Gloria thought to herself, knowing that Gina was a fixture at those two country-western bars. Gloria audibly sighed. "Gina, I understand you very well. You've been this way since you were a teen-ager, and you haven't outgrown it yet. Nor will you or should you. I love you just the way you are, dear. You're the only Van Winkle that really did her own thing, you know."
"And look where that got me," Gina replied. "A single mother with a son who has disowned me and won't answer my calls, all because I "did my own thing" instead of following my beloved sisters and brother in the Van Winkle goose-step."
"That will be enough, young lady," Gloria insisted. "I understand perfectly well that you have never embraced our family's eccentricities, nor will I even blame you for your choices."
"You mean, it's not my fault I never felt the desire to sleep with my own father or brothers," Gina snidely replied.
Gloria paused, growing more frustrated. "Gina, you were never pressured and always respected. The Van Winkle family has always been close, you know that, but it is not a pre-requisite of being a family member. Not all of your cousins have enjoyed the pleasures, and your siblings have long ago settled into more traditional family roles."
"Which is why Ginger still enjoys bragging about her personal sexual escapades every time she calls, or those of her bi-sexual twins," Gina answered. "And don't tell me you still aren't entertaining Gabriel, especially now that he works for you. I know better than that. Plus, I've heard stories about cousin Annie's boy Tim. He's gaining something of a reputation, did you know that?"
Gloria paused, quite aware of young Tim Strauss's reputation, having only recently spent a few quality hours with her great-nephew, and a friend of his. That brought an idea to her mind.
"Gina, why don't you come over tonight for dinner?" she offered. "We can talk better about your problems if you'd like, and maybe over some wine, or beer if you'd rather, we can get it all out and see if it makes you feel any better. Plus, I might have a few ideas of my own to help you. How does that sound?"
Gina, for her part, seriously thought about not accepting. Instead, she realized that it had been too long since she and her mother had actually sat across from each other and enjoyed an evening. "Okay, Mother. I don't have anything else planned this evening any way. Why not?"
"Wonderful!" Gloria replied. "I'll have Shonda prepare her delicious chicken and dumplings for us. It'll be nice having a quiet dinner with my lovely daughter, I think. Just the two of us."
"Okay, whatever. I said I'd be there, didn't? Good-bye, Mother," Gina said and hung up.
Gloria set her phone down on the table and finished off the piece of toast she'd been nibbling on. A string of thoughts flowed through her mind and she was dialing a moment later.
"Hello, Natalya? Yes, this is Gloria. I was wondering if I might speak to your son, if he's available?" She listened for a moment. "Yes, I think I've got it. Thank you." Gloria hung up and quickly touched in the number that her friend and employee had given out. A moment later she was talking to Nicolas Aleshinov.
"Nico? Yes, this is Gloria Van Winkle. I was calling to ask if you might be available this evening, say, sometime after nine?"
***
Gloria greeted her daughter at the front door shortly after five o'clock. Gina's car, a small, red Pontiac, was parked behind her own gray Mercedes. It was an obvious clash between classes, in Gloria's mind, although she and her daughter would always be associated with the higher one.
"I'm so thrilled you decided to come," Gloria grinned as she took her daughter's hands in hers, and then kissed her forehead. "It's been entirely too long since you've paid me a visit, Gina." The two women embraced and then Gloria took Gina's hand in hers and led the way through the big house overlooking the bay from Van Winkle Heights, to the back porch where Shonda had set out a tray of tea and crackers ahead of dinner.
They each took a seat in one of the well-upholstered deck chairs facing out towards the Pacific, some five miles distant. The evening was warm, though a gentle breeze coming from the northwest made it pleasant. The patio umbrella blocked the setting sun. Gina lit up a cigarette and dropped both the pack and lighter onto the glass-topped table. Gloria poured iced sun-tea for both of them, though only she drank.
For the next twenty minutes, mother and daughter small-talked a little as the sun continued to reach for the Pacific. They spoke of work, the weather, and family, until Shonda stepped through the patio door and announced that dinner was served.
"Shonda has this wonderful recipe for chicken and dumplings," Gloria told her daughter as they followed the robust house-keeper inside. Shonda was a member of one of the few African-American families living in Regal Bay, the Reverend Miles Franklin behind her father. "She tells me it's an old family recipe, passed on through generations of Franklins, maybe as far back as the Colonies," Gloria continued. Inside, Gloria and her daughter took places at the smaller table in the breakfast nook of the kitchen, where she had asked for dinner to be served. She felt it a little more intimate, it being only her and her daughter, than the larger eight-place oak table in the dining room.
Once seated, Shonda served their plates already prepared, asked if there was anything else, and then quietly removed herself to the small sitting room she used when awaiting Gloria's instructions.
Over dinner, Gloria drank beer along with her daughter, though she seldom drank much. She always had on hand several varieties for guests, and as her daughter was known to enjoy Coors Light, she had had a case delivered that afternoon. Gina finished three bottles before she had completed her meal, and Gloria, having finished off her one, looked forward to retiring to the den, where she had a bottle of Kaella Rose wine chilling.
With dinner concluded, Gloria insisted they retire to the den to talk. Gina retrieved a fresh bottle of beer from the kitchen before following her mother on through. In the comfortably furnished den, Gina and Gloria sat in matching chairs facing somewhat towards the unlit fireplace, their backs to the windows and the view of the growing darkness. Between them sat a lamp table which Gina used for her beer and ashtray. Gloria had switched to the wine that she had chilling in the den and under her mother's suggestion Gina accepted a glass.
"I invested in this wonderful Washington state winery a few years ago," Gloria explained as she marveled at the sparkling liquid through the walls of her glass. "I receive a case of each vintage annually." Gloria took a sip, and followed it up with a larger mouthful. Gina, for her part, wasn't a wine drinker, but did enjoy hers none the less.
As the evening wore on each woman relaxed more, with Gina growing ever tipsier from the wine they were consuming. It was all to the designs Gloria had for the evening. She wanted her daughter to relax, to enjoy herself, and not think about her person troubles. Soon after the wall-mounted coocoo clock had chirped nine o'clock over her shoulder, Gloria stood and greeted the young man being escorted into the den by Shonda.
"Nicolas! Welcome! I am so thrilled that you were able to make it!" Gina took the young man in her arms, greeting him with a hug, and then a light kiss upon each of his cheeks. She then turned and introduced her daughter.
"Nicolas, this is my daughter Gina, Ginger's twin," she announced.
"Good to meet you finally," he said to Gina, who remained seated in the chair. She had a look of puzzlement upon her face, which she cast her mother's way as the young man stepped up and presented his hand. She shook it and he added, "I have heard about you for some time, but it is a pleasure to finally be able to put a face to the name." Nico then brought his lips to her hand and lightly kissed the back, in a somewhat formal fashion. Gina recognized a slight accent on Nico's words, but could not place it. She also noted the slight grin on his mouth, and the twinkle in his eye as they met hers.
