Page 52 of Save the Drama for your Mama
“How did you unlock it?” I asked.
“I jiggled it a couple of times,” Melody said.
“You’re a genius.”
“I know.”
I gestured to the trunk. “Okay, Einstein, you can have the honor since you unlocked it.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Melody said, her beautiful smile shining brightly. She opened the trunk, then craned her neck in my direction. “Picture frames. A bunch of them.”
“Bingo. We are going to find out what Alfredo wouldn’t tell us, then we’ll get to see his reaction when we show him.”
I moved closer and squatted next to her. Hopefully, there were more photos of James and my mom, or at least something that would give us a clue as to who he was.
Melody pulled out the first frame, a sunset photo of the Coronado bridge over San Diego Bay. “This is so beautiful.”
“I agree, it’s amazing, but I don’t see any clues here.” I took the picture from her and set it aside. “What else is there?”
She pulled out the next frame, a photo of Skull Rock in Joshua Tree National Park, then the next one, a very cool shot of the Oceanside Pier. There were also pictures of Anza Borrego desert; the lighthouse at Point Loma; Balboa Park; and fireworks over the aircraft carrier, USS Midway. All of them were mounted in black 12”x18” frames. None of them gave us any clues.
“Why would your mother have these locked up?” Melody asked. “Don’t get me wrong, they are absolutely gorgeous, but they belong on the walls or in a gallery, not in a trunk where nobody can see them.”
“I agree,” I said. “It makes no sense at all.”
“Stand back!” Alfredo called out from the other side of the attic door. A few seconds later, the door opened without any friction, force, or fanfare. He stepped inside the attic with a sledgehammer in his hand. “Well that was a little anticlimactic.”
I blinked. “How did you open the door?”
“I just pushed it open with my palm,” Alfredo said, then glanced down at the sledgehammer. “Too bad. I was hoping to use this, but destruction and mayhem will just have to wait for another day.”
“It doesn’t matter how you did it,” Melody said. “You’re still my hero.”
Alfredo mimed tipping his hat. “All in a day’s work, my fair lady.”
“Give it a rest, chicken breast.” I shook my head.
“Some knucklehead tried to diss. ’Cause his girls are on my list,” he said.
“Quoting Sir-Mix-a-Lot?” I said. “Who’s next? Vanilla Ice?”
“Only if you want to stop, collaborate, and listen.” Alfredo grinned. “A true hero isn’t measured by the size of his sledgehammer, but by the determination of his heart and the power of his words.”
“Okay then . . . why don’t you use your word power to explain why my mom would have these pictures locked up?” I walked over and picked up the framed photo of the fireworks over the USS Midway.
“I’m suddenly at a loss for words,” Alfredo said. “But I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.”
“We’re not friends anymore,” I said.
He shrugged. “That’s too bad. I was going to barbecue your favorite ribeye steaks this week.”
I sighed. “Fine. We’re friends again, but you’re on probation.”
Alfredo chuckled. “That’s what I thought. On that note, I am going to get back to my reruns ofEverybody Loves Raymond. See you on the flip-side.” He winked, then eyed the picture frame in my hand.
After he left, I chuckled and turned to Melody. “Never a dull moment with that man.”
“He’s adorable,” she said, obviously charmed. “See you on theflip-side.”
