Picture Not Perfect Read online

  Picture

  Not Perfect

  Lois Lavrisa

  SunLake Press

  Picture Not Perfect

  By Lois Lavrisa

  Picture Not Perfect

  Lavrisa, Lois Marie (12-05-2012)

  Copyright 2012 Lois Lavrisa

  Discover other titles by Lois Lavrisa at www.loislavrisa.com

  Amazon Edition, Licensing Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal use only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission from the author.

  All Trademarks mentioned herein are respected.

  All quotes are intended as fair use and not intended to abridge copyright.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or to actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  www.sunlakepress.com

  What Authors and Reviewers are saying about

  Lois Lavrisa’s anthology

  Picture Not Perfect

  “Picture Not Perfect — Who wouldn’t love this story about a guy working at an ice cream joint solely to earn enough cash to take his girlfriend to prom? I see this as a modern fairytale that offers a wonderful morale of the story. Some may see it as unbelievable but I believe good karma comes in full circle.” Usako, Good reads reviewer

  “This anthology (ETERNAL SPRING) provides great stories in the YA field… the ‘Picture Not Perfect’ by Lois Lavrisa are my favorites. These 13 stories provide points of view and are unique in their own right.” Tom Haase, Amazon reviewer

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Novels by Lois Lavrisa

  Dedication

  Picture Not Perfect

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Connect with Lois Lavrisa Online

  Five Fun Facts about Lois Lavrisa

  Acknowledgments

  My sincerest and deepest appreciation goes out to my beta readers, and dear friends: Patricia Mason, Donna Shea, Nancy Remler and Charles Cory. With your very insightful and useful feedback on my stories, I know that they are much stronger and better because of you. I cannot thank all of you enough, my Savannah Pen & Ink group. And of course special thanks go to my final editor, formatter and much more, my dear husband Tom.

  However, my biggest gratitude is extended to you, my readers. Without you my stories would never be given life. Thank you, enjoy.

  About the Author

  Lois Lavrisa writes Mystery with a Twist. Her first mystery LIQUID LIES, an Amazon bestseller and Amazon Hot New Release, is set in an affluent lake town in Wisconsin. Fast paced with twists and turns around every corner, it’ll keep you guessing until the end.

  Her short story “Picture not Perfect” is in a young adult anthology called ETERNAL SPRING which was released with great reviews in April 2012. Another short story “Turnabout Twist”: is included in The WG2E All-For-Indies Anthologies: Summer Fling Edition. In 2012 she will write short stories for two additional anthologies.

  She’s working on a cozy mystery series, THE CHUBBY CHICKS CLUB about sassy southern sleuths, set in Savannah, Georgia. THE CHUBBY CHICKS CLUB is a rag tag group of friends (not all chubby nor all chicks) who find themselves investigating a friend’s mysterious death, with time running out for them to find the killer before the killer finds them. THE CHUBBY CHICKS CLUB, book one, should be completed next year.

  She’s been married to her aerospace husband Tom for over 21 years and they have four children - two boys and two girls. She’s a member of several writing organizations including: Mystery Writers of America (MWA), Romance Writers of America (RWA) and Sisters in Crime (SIC). Currently, she’s serving as vice president of the Low Country RWA. For the past six years she’s been a member of the Savannah Pen & Ink writers group. She’s written for a local newspaper, a magazine, numerous newsletters and posts weekly on a blog. Additionally, Lois has worked as an adjunct instructor and a technical writer.

  If you want to contact her, please go to www.loislavrisa.com, www.liquidlies.com, www.facebook.com/authorloislavrisa, www.thechubbychicksclub.com, www.facebook.com/loislavrisa, twitter.com/loislavrisa or www.goodreads.com/loislavrisa.

  Novels by Lois Lavrisa

  Liquid Lies

  Short Stories in Anthologies

  Eternal Spring

  Her short story titled “Picture Not Perfect”

  WG2E Summer Fling

  Her short story titled “Turnabout Twist”

  Save Me, Santa

  Her short story titled “Christmas Corpse Caper”

  WG2E Spooky Shorts

  Her short story titled “Treat or Trick”

  Dedication

  This story is dedicated to an incredibly brilliant, wonderful and generous friend who keeps me laughing and is one of my favorite people in the entire world-Patricia Mason. You are my muse, my brainstorming partner and idea generator. Plus my away from home fun loving travel buddy. I am honored to have you in my life. This story is for you.

  Picture Not Perfect

  Chapter One

  Being a seventeen-year-old guy without a car sucks big time. The possibility of not being able to afford to go senior prom with your girlfriend blows too. However, working at an ice cream shop and having to wear a dorky paper cap is by far the worst.

  “Can you work late and close up by yourself?” Mike, my manager, asked me.

  “Yeah.” Wiping down the black marble countertop, I glanced up at the clock. It was 9:00 p.m., an hour left before we closed.

  “Have you asked Gabrielle to prom yet?” Mike asked. He took off his paper cap and ran a hand through his thick brown hair.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I kind of want to make sure I have the cash first. This week’s paycheck should be enough, I hope.” I grabbed a bottle of blue glass cleaner and made my way to the front window to scrub off the sticky fingerprints.

  “It’d really suck if she said yes and you couldn’t afford to go,” Mike said.

  “Yeah, sure would,” I replied. “Then again, it would suck if she said no.”

  “No kidding.” I watched a blue drop of cleaner slide down the glass, the smell of ammonia mixed with the sweet smell of waffle cones.

  “Isn’t prom, like, this weekend?”

  “Saturday night.” Today was Thursday.

  “Glad you gave yourself plenty of time,” Mike crumpled his paper hat and threw it at me.

  I caught it, then lined up my shot and tossed it in the trash. “Two points.”

  “Good shot. I’m heading out. Thanks for taking over.” Mike untied the white apron from his waist and tossed it over his shoulder. As he exited, the bells on the door jingled.

  A woman with a huge multi colored purse slung over her shoulder walked in as Mike left.

  “Good evening and welcome to Leonardo’s. Savannah’s most famous ice cream parlor, established in 1919. The city’s best ice cream and sandwiches. My name is Tim,” I greeted her with our standard spiel.

  “Your hat say
s Tim ICG, what does ICG mean?”

  “Ice Cream Guy,” I replied.

  “Creative.” She smiled.

  “I try to come up with something different every time,” I said. Each shift we got a new paper hat. We took a crayon and wrote our name on it. Some employees drew pictures on their hats as well. “What can I get for you?”

  She looked through the glass display case. “There are so many choices here.”

  “Forty three flavors, all made fresh right here,” I said, motioning toward the back room. “In our kitchen.”

  “You sure have a lot of Hollywood memorabilia,” she said as she pointed at the wall.

  “The owner is a movie producer and this is stuff he’s collected over the years. Plus, there are a lot of original pictures and things from the three original owners.”

  While she walked over to a wall adjacent to the ice cream display case, I noticed she stood about five and a half feet tall, half a foot shorter than me. Her short red hair poked out from under a straw hat. Her pale skin had a few slight wrinkles. I guessed her around my mom’s age, maybe late thirties.

  “Are you from around here?” I asked.

  “No, I’m from Pennsylvania,” she said. Her back was to me as she stood in front of a shadowbox on the wall. Lining the entire wall were pictures and posters. So many that only very small areas of the red wall was visible. I knew each item on the wall by heart, having cleaned the glass on every piece many times.

  “Is this your first time in Savannah?” I asked, trying to make small talk. Rule number twenty in Leonardo’s employee manual is to show customers southern hospitality. That meant small talk.

  “No, I visited here as a child. I had family who lived in the Victorian district.”

  “Are they still here?”

  “No.” She turned to face me.

  “How long are you staying?”

  “Just until Saturday.” She reached in her bag and pulled out Leonardo’s brochure and laid it on the counter. “The concierge gave this to me. He said it gives patrons ten percent off.”

  The front of the brochure had pictures of the interior of Leonardo’s and a history of the store. The backside had a stamp from the Marshall House.

  “Just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll be glad to take your order,” I said.

  “Can you give me a few more minutes?” she said as she looked at the wall of pictures.

  I figured she was finished with small talk. The back door buzzer sounded. I ignored it. Then my phone buzzed. I looked at the caller id. It was my brother.

  I texted him: What?

  He texted back: Open back door.

  I texted back: No can do. I’m working.

  The buzzer went off again.

  Then he texted: emergency

  Rats. “Would you excuse me a sec?” I said to the lady customer.

  “Hmm. Sure,” she said, sounding distracted a she studied the pictures.

  I locked the register, and put the tip jar under the counter then I jogged through the kitchen to the back door. Looking through the peephole, I saw my twin brother, Theodore. He was my mirror image; slim build, six feet tall, curly black hair, olive toned skin and chocolate brown eyes.

  After unlatching the locks, I opened the door. His bike leaned against the brick wall adjacent to the door.

  “Listen, I could get in big trouble. What’s the emergency?” I asked.

  “I need twenty bucks, I’m kind of short this month and I really want to take Vicky to the movie. You know the vampire one.”

  “That is not an emergency.”

  “To me it is.”

  “Anyway the movie is horrible. I’ll give you money not to go.”

  “Yeah, I can’t stand it either. But she sure gets cozy with me after seeing that lead actor.” Theodore winked.

  My wallet had exactly twenty dollars in it, and it was going toward my prom fund.

  “It starts in thirty minutes, and I promised her. But I’m tapped out with all the prom stuff I had to pay for,” Theodore said.

  “I’m broke and I need the money for prom.”

  “C’mon, please, you’ll get it back tomorrow. Promise.” He motioned across his heart.

  “You better.” I raised an eyebrow.

  He was always tugging at my heartstrings, and I usually gave in. I pulled out my wallet and handed him my twenty. Perhaps my being born a minute of ahead of him gave me a big brother protective complex. On the other hand, maybe I was just a sucker.

  I put my now empty wallet back into my pocket. Just then, my stomach growled. Thankfully, my one free meal per shift of a sandwich and chips was waiting for me in the fridge.

  “Thanks, bro,” Theodore said. Then he hopped on his bike.

  “Don’t forget, pay it back,” I said to him as he rode off. With that twenty and my next check I’d be able to afford prom.

  Within seconds, I heard purring. I looked down and saw Leo, the grey striped stray cat the employees had sort of adopted. Leo liked to be petted behind his ears. “Hey buddy, you having a good night?”

  He tilted his head and then licked my hand.

  I went into a storage closet and got a scoop of dry cat food from the bag we set aside for Leo. I emptied the scoop into the bowl we kept outside the back door. Leo rubbed against my leg, let out a soft meow then went to town on the food. I shut and locked the back door then washed my hands.

  Nearing the register, I looked around and noticed that the lady, who had been in here earlier, had left.

  The front door bells jangled again.

  “Hi, Timmy, I love the hat,” Gabrielle said as she strolled in. “What does Tim ICG mean?”

  Stupid paper hat. “It’s the initials for Ice Cream Guy. I thought that would get people talking to me, like you just did.”

  “Hmm, why don’t you just put ‘Tim cute boyfriend’ on it?”

  “Right, and on yours I’d write ‘hot chick.’” My heart seemed to be sprinting. The common reaction I had whenever I was around her. Gabrielle was tall with long blonde hair and gorgeous big green eyes. “I thought you were busy tonight with your debutante meeting?”

  “Huh?” her eyebrows scrunched. Then she cleared her throat. “Oh, yes. That was cancelled. Father decided that I should decline the invitation to join. With us being new in town, we didn’t want to come on too strong. Maybe next year. Unless, of course, we move to our chalet in France.” She ran a long finger along the glass display case. Her eyes were wide as she gazed inside.

  “Can I get you something?” She looked thinner than when I first met her a few weeks ago. She said she’d transferred here from some private boarding school in Maine.

  “Our chef is off tonight, and I am such a mess in the kitchen. You know having had servants, it’s so hard to even figure out how to make something as simple as a sandwich. I’m all thumbs.” She gave me a weak smile.

  “Hey, I’ve got a sandwich in the fridge. Why don’t you just take it?” I said.

  “Oh, no. You don’t have to give my anything. I can pay for it.” She dug into her purse. “Rats. I must have left my wallet at home.”

  I reached into the fridge, took out my bagged dinner, and handed it to her. “Please take this, I insist. Are you okay?”

  “Huh?”

  “You are just getting so thin.”

  “Yes.” She twisted a piece of her hair. “You can’t be too skinny or too rich.”

  “I think you look perfect the way you are. You don’t have to go on a diet.”

  “I’m not on a diet.” She clutched the white paper bag. “Thank you. I’ll get you the money as soon as I can.”

  “No, I won’t take it. Plus, it’s my free meal.” I decided it was now or never. “Listen, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been meaning to ask you, what are you doing this weekend?”

  “Not sure.”

  “Are you busy Saturday night?” I asked. My words felt thick and stuck like peanut butter in my throat.

  She cocked her head to t
he side. Her eyes slit. “Why?”

  “This is super short notice and all, and I would have asked sooner, but I’ve been saving up and…well… what I’m trying to say is, would you like to go to prom with me?”

  Her eyebrows raised and her mouth opened.

  Shoot. That was not the response I wanted. She did not look happy. Was she mad that I dared ask? Or was she just surprised? “I mean, I know I’ve only known you a few weeks, but this is senior prom. And I would love to take you.”

  “No. I mean, I can’t go. I have to go now. Really, I am so sorry.” With that, Gabrielle turned on her heels and went out the front door.

  What happened? Did I push too hard? Maybe she was breaking up with me. I wished I could call her, but she didn’t have a cell phone. She said her dad was getting her a new smart phone, but it was on order.

  I let out a big sigh, my feet feeling like lead. Maybe, if I kept myself busy cleaning, I could forget about being shot down by my girlfriend. I wiped the white Formica tables and turned the black wrought iron chairs upside down on them, then got the mop out of the cleaning closet. All the while, I thought about Gabrielle.

  By the time I finished mopping, it was time to lock up.

  My girlfriend turned me down for prom and I was broke and hungry.

  And I had to wear a stupid paper cap. Life sucked.

  As I walked toward the door, my eye caught a patch of red on the poster wall. Red wall paint I shouldn’t be able to see.

  Something was missing.

  Then I knew what was gone.

  A twelve by twelve inch shadowbox, which held an original signed script from a famous motion picture, as well as a five by six inch black and white picture of Leonardo’s great grandfather with the two original founders.

  Chapter Two

  By the time the police completed taking my statement, it was almost midnight. Stanley Leonardo, the owner, had been called to the store as well. The police wanted to see if they could get videotape from the surveillance camera.

  “The security camera broke down last week.” Stanley scratched his head. His glasses slipped down his long skinny nose as his salt and pepper hair fell on his face.