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A Yonkers Kinda Girl

Page 32

by Rose O'Callaghan


  “This is yours?” Lilly was impressed.

  “I got a deal.”

  “Your deals!” she said laughing. “About Everett and Eileen, she had her tubes tied when Kara was born. Then tonight, she had to tell him she’s pregnant again. I think they have mixed emotions about it.”

  “Understandable.”

  “Tell me about this car deal.”

  Tony smiled at her and highlighted some of his better deals as they drove to lower Manhattan playing Tom Waits on the cassette deck. She felt she was flirting with fire.

  The drizzle gave way to a full-fledged downpour as Tony turned down his street. He stopped in front of a building that looked nothing like a warehouse to Lilly.

  “It’s a false front,” Tony said as he led her to the doorway and into his home.

  Lilly stood looking around the high-ceilinged living room while they removed their shoes.

  “Tony, this is beautiful! You decorated this? The furniture, the lamps, those pictures. I like your taste.”

  Tony stood proudly, “Actually, my architect friend had a decorator friend. She came over and drank some wine and watched a Yankees game with me and then came back with ideas. I set up her business on computer for her. Come on, I’ll give you a tour.”

  He led her through an L-shaped living room that was open to a dining room and then into a kitchen.

  “This is fit for a gourmet cook.” Lilly looked at all the cabinetry and the work island. “Wait a second,” she said suspiciously. She chose a middle cabinet and opened it, exposing one bottle of ketchup.

  Tony laughed again. “I suppose I don’t utilize this kitchen to the fullest.”

  Lilly had the urge to kiss him but pulled back.

  “I do have a nice wine in the refrigerator,” Tony said, getting the wine and reaching for the stemware over the counter top.

  Lilly walked around, finding another door.

  “The darkroom,” Tony explained.

  You’re doing that much photography?”

  “Not really. When the photographer set up around the corner in another part of the warehouse, I got interested. It’s more of a whim.”

  “You shouldn’t call it a warehouse. It’s a home. You couldn’t even tell there’s another apartment when we came in.”

  “The architect cut the building in half, so the other half has a different street address. The building is in the middle of the block, but it goes through to the other street.”

  “This door?”

  “The bathroom.”

  “That’s the one for me,” she said and entered.

  She came out and found Tony in the living room, rolling a joint. Steely Dan was on the stereo.

  Lilly asked, “Whatever happened to our old furniture and stereo?”

  “The furniture never moved back to New York with me. It was laid to rest in a dump. I gave the stereo to McGrath.”

  “Mike? How is he?”

  “He’s fine. He’s an FBI agent out of San Francisco, married to a psychiatrist. She’s a bit older than him.”

  “FBI, that’s a surprise. He never mentioned police work.”

  “He was recruited in his senior year. He was a business major and did post-grad in accounting. He’s not really serious, or anything. He’s still Mike.”

  Lilly walked over to his stereo. “You moved up in the world.”

  “I have things. You have something better. You gave a year and a half to the world. I kept thinking of that at the reception today. Going to Cambodia, that took guts.”

  “I was always headstrong.”

  “True,” he said teasingly, putting down the pot.

  “You rat.”

  Tony put his arms around her and pulled her down to him. He saw the panic in her eyes and kissed her.

  Lilly jumped up, rushing across the room to the mantelpiece and picking up a small sculpture chosen at random. “This is nice. Where’d you get it?” She said nervously.

  Tony lit the joint and brought it to her. “I bought it in Boston. I don’t know about art. I liked it.”

  “If you look at it this way, it’s like a far-away dancer doing a pirouette, or a waterfall,” Lilly said. “Do you go to many galleries?”

  “Not really. I used to go with an artist.”

  “Oh.”

  “She hated computers and soon hated me.”

  “She must have been an artist with very little vision,” Lilly said, still looking at the sculpture. She could feel him looking at her. “I haven’t smoked pot in two years. I’ll probably get a headache.”

  “I thought Southeast Asia and marijuana were synonymous.”

  “Not in refugee camps. I lived with four French nuns in a temporary housing unit.”

  “A shack?” Tony asked.

  “It wasn’t nice enough to be called a shack … or big enough. Anyway, we didn’t party. I had one friend, but she left five months ago.”

  “You and nuns – somehow that doesn’t go together.”

  “Actually, they were sisters, not nuns. There’s a nit-picking difference. At first they were warm, but when they found out I was a divorcée, forget it. Cold shoulder was the only thing cold in the tropics.” Lilly finished her wine and took the joint.

  “I don’t smoke either. When I moved from California, I stopped. I didn’t know who to buy from, then I didn’t care. I got this for Frank’s wedding, but I never took it there. I think I’ll take it on the trail.”

  “It seems like an appropriate place to smoke grass. How about some Grateful Dead?”

  “Right,” Tony said, going to the stereo. He heard Lilly pouring more wine and knew she had made a decision.

  “Do you hear from anyone else in the band? Randy and Sam came to visit me, to bring my keyboards and sleep with my roommates in Jamestown,” Lilly said, ending up giggling.

  Tony chuckled, “Randy never told me he saw you. He’s in prison now.”

  “Randy’s in jail?”

  “Federal prison. He tried to smuggle a speedboat full of pot into Florida.”

  “Dumb.”

  “Sam’s doing studio work in L. A. He sees his kids now. His ex-wife tried to kill herself, so his kids are living with his parents.”

  “How is his ex?”

  “She shot herself with a shotgun so it’s pretty gruesome. Oh and José …”

  Tony waited for her to rise to the bait.

  “José? Wait a second, who’s José?”

  “You remember, the bass player you hated so much.”

  “OK, OK.”

  “He’s in a big band now, on the radio all the time.”

  “Tony, you’re kidding! He had no concentration. When Jay or Randy or I would start drifting, he could never follow us.”

  “You don’t have to be good to made it.”

  “Sad, but true.”

  “You would have made a great rock star.”

  “Yeah. You would have made a super hoop star, Dr. T.”

  Tony made a slam dunk motion. Lilly danced to the music. They ran into each other. This time Lilly didn’t run away.

  Tony said seriously, “Eileen and her husband have a problem. They could use some privacy.”

  Lilly said, swaying to the music. “Such a gracious invitation … and so proper.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be proper, or gracious for that matter.” Tony was leading her to the stairs.

  Lilly raced ahead of him, turning on the stairs to kiss him.

  Tony said, “You’re looped. Am I taking advantage of you?”

  “Probably. You’re always sweeter when you’re guilty.”

  Tony dragged her up the stairs as she giggled. They took turns undressing each other and taking off their own clothes. Lilly felt awkward and out of sync.

  Tony seemed to understand and was slow and gentle. When he kissed her ear, she thought she’d jump out of her skin. After they made love, she felt like crying but didn’t know why.

  Lilly held back the tears as long as she could, then whispered, “B
athroom?”

  Tony pointed to the door. He heard her crying and sat up, but something held him back. He knew by her stiffness and tightness that it had been a long time since she had sex. He was relieved but his relief was disturbing. All his single life, he’d had complete control. The women he allowed in for longer than a passing liaison were self-contained. Lilly’s essence was beauty and fragility. He didn’t know if he could handle her, or if he wanted to once again open that Pandora’s Box.

  Memories of the time right after she left flooded him: the incriminating, disgusted expressions on his parents’ faces; the day he landed the right job and raced home to a joyless, empty apartment; their friends’ trying to make a martyr of him and a slut of her. He jumped out of bed, crossing the room to the window. He returned to bed to pretend to sleep when she returned.

  Lilly slipped into bed with characteristic quietness of movement. She perched as close to the edge as a waterbed allowed. Tony turned over and gathered her in his arms.

  “It’s OK, Lil. It’s me,” he said softly.

  She touched his face. “When did you get a water bed again? Remember our waterbed? When the heater broke?”

  He laughed. They looked at each other’s faces.

  “Goodnight, Anthony.”

  “Goodnight, Lillian.”

  They drifted to sleep with his arms around her. Lilly woke during the night and studied him. He had no obligation to her, and he obviously was enjoying being single. She wondered if clinging to him was a reaction to her own feelings of rootlessness. She tried to put it in perspective by imagining life in another month. Tony would be gone on the Appalachian Trail, but she still had no idea where she would be. She also felt thrilled by his reaction to seeing her. She smiled, kissed his shoulder softly, and fell asleep.

  Tony woke first. He showered and decided to follow his regular routine, walking the perimeter of Central Park and crossing twice with a thirty-five pound pack in preparation for the trail. He dressed and gazed at Lilly. Her long blonde hair on the pillow circled her head like a halo. She looked small and angelic. The blanket and the sheet covered her loosely, revealing a tiny part of a scar on her back.

  Tony covered Lilly with a blanket and left a note on the pillow: Lil, Taking a walk. Catch you later. Tony

  He started walking, seeing his neighborhood as though for the first time, imagining it through Lilly’s eyes. He turned back, deciding to awaken Lilly and take her to brunch. He arrived home while she was showering. He located her box and brought it to the bedroom.

  “Tony?” Lilly called with slight panic in her voice.

  He remembered her fears following the rape and swallowed. “It’s only me Lil.”

  She emerged from the bathroom wearing yesterday’s clothes.

  “Hi. Oh, the box.” She went for it eagerly.

  Tony sliced the tape sealing the box, then stepped back to watch as Lilly unpacked each item slowly, fondly, much as he had two years earlier. Lilly came to the picture Hillary had taken of them in the sunroom in East Hampton eight years earlier. She sat on the bed looking at the tenderness of the picture. Tony backed out the bedroom door and disappeared.

  He returned with coffee to find her examining her booty, which was now in neat piles.

  “I thought you were walking.” Lilly looked up, smiling.

  “I came back. Let’s go to breakfast.” He added, “I have a washer and dryer in the darkroom if you want to launder the clothing.”

  “You are truly an amiable host.”

  Lilly put on the last drop of Chanel 19. “It must’ve evaporated.”

  “I didn’t use it.”

  “It’s not the right fragrance for you, jokester. You need comet.”

  They went to breakfast. Tony explained the importance of brunch.

  “Lunch is for deal-making and meeting people you might use at some time. Dinner is either formal, when dining out, or grab something to eat at the office while you work until ten-thirty. Brunch is slow, Sunday, no suits allowed, a New York must. I never went to brunch in California. It wasn’t needed.”

  They speculated on the fortunes and futures of the other patrons. Tony prompted Lilly to giggle. He knew no other person who laughed so easily or so completely without restraint. When they finished, they left the restaurant to walk in ever widening circles. Tony pointed out all the small shops and irregularities of SoHo.

  They worked their way to the neighborhood where Tony grew up. Tony showed her his old school, and they stopped in front of his apartment. The grocery was still there.

  “I can’t believe I never took you here. But then again, I never came here. It’s taboo in my family to acknowledge this place.”

  “Do you come here often?”

  “Not when it’s awake. Let me explain. When I walk getting ready for the trail, I walk for miles before and after work. I come by here often. It’s part of me.”

  “We never had time Tony. We were always working or you were in school. When I thought about it, I couldn’t believe how few basketball games I went to. I should have been there, cheering for you.”

  “Don’t feel bad about that. It’s regrettable, but it was unavoidable. You worked so hard to keep me in school.”

  They stood looking at each other with new appreciation. Tony silently led her back to his home and then to his bedroom.

  “Why don’t we wash your clothes? We can put these in the load too.” Tony indicated the clothing she was wearing.

  “She gathered the clothing and followed him down to the darkroom. He started the washer, then stood, expecting her to strip. She pushed him out the door to the kitchen. She took off her clothes and put on a tee shirt of his that was sitting on the dryer. She walked into the kitchen.

  It was empty. She walked through the house. Tony was in his bedroom. Her neat piles were knocked on the floor. He was laying on the bed, glorious in his nakedness.

  Tony said, “Will you strip for me now?”

  Lilly laughed, “You hum.” He hummed while she sang, “From the minute you walked in the joint …” She peeked at a shoulder through the neck hole. “I could see you were a man of distinction.” She lifted the bottom of the tee to show a hip. “A real big spender …” She whipped off the tee. “It’s really not enough clothes too …”

  He reached up and pulled her down interrupting her words with his tongue.

  They were lying in afterglow when the washer finished. They playfully tried to push each other out of bed to put the clothes in the dryer. Lilly lost.

  She donned the tee shirt. The doorbell rang after she transferred the bundle to the dryer. She froze. Tony came down and answered the door, dressed only in jeans. A chubby man in his early forties exploded into the apartment, walking through to the kitchen.

  He opened Tony’s refrigerator and asked, “Are you going to watch the Knicks? Why don’t you ever have anything worth drinking here?”

  “Not today, TJ. Come in and help yourself to the fridge though,” Tony said nodding assurance at Lilly, who was still frozen in the darkroom doorway.

  TJ turned and spotted Lilly. “Hello, Thomas Jefferson Kolte. He’ll never introduce us.”

  Lilly smiled a shy smile.

  TJ asked, “Tony?”

  “OK, TJ. This is Lilly. She’s not a bimbo. Sorry.”

  Lilly giggled a little but still said nothing.

  “Hello, non-bimbo Lilly. Do you have a last name?”

  “Della Robbia,” Tony said.

  “O’Dwyer,” Lilly corrected, turning to Tony.

  “This is your ex-wife. Hello, Lilly. I feel like I know you. Mostly nice things, though.”

  Tony was embarrassed into silence.

  “Hello, Thomas Jefferson. I’ve heard of you too. Are you from Virginia?”

  TJ looked at her unsure how to take her. “Framingham, Massachusetts. You realize if you put your wardrobe together, you’d almost be dressed.”

  “He’s quick, Tony.” Lilly looked around the kitchen. “Where’s the coffee?�
��

  Tony handed her a canister and pointed to the counter.

  Lilly looked at it then asked, “How does this machine work?”

  “The Mister Coffee? I’ll show you,” Tony answered.

  “Where have you been girl? You can’t rent an apartment without a Mister Coffee. It’s considered standard equipment, like a bathtub,” TJ said.

  “Bathtub?” Lilly repeated blankly.

  “Cute, no bimbo.” TJ sat on a stool and watched Tony show Lilly how to make coffee.

  “No Knicks?” TJ asked.

  “I haven’t walked the park yet today. I have to do it this afternoon,” Tony answered as he watched Lilly’s back go up across the room.

  They drank coffee in the living room, continuing the banter. A buzzing came from the kitchen.

  “That’s the dryer, Miss O’Dwyer,” Tony said dryly.

  Lilly got her clothes from the darkroom and dressed in the kitchen where she could hear the men but could not be seen.

  “Your ex-wife?” A short silence followed. “How long have you been seeing her?”

  “I saw her for the first time in four years yesterday.” Tony’s voice did not reveal any emotion.

  TJ said, “She must have been glad to see you. Yesterday. That was your brother’s wedding. He invited your ex-wife?”

  “No. I ran into her.”

  Lilly emerged dressed with a pile of clothes in her arms.

  Tony stood. “I’ll see you later TJ.”

  TJ walked toward the door. “It was nice meeting you, no-bimbo.”

  “You too, Framingham,” Lilly retorted. She waited for him to leave and then said, “Tony, I’ll repack the box and head to Eileen’s.”

  “Sure Lil,” he said and followed her back to the bedroom.

  She packed the box, facing one way while he dressed facing the other. Tony turned to see her holding their marriage certificate and turned back again. The movement was enough for her to catch out of the corner of her eye. She hurriedly finished packing the box and carried it down the stairs.

  Tony came behind her “Lilly,” he said, taking the box from her. “Have you ever really seen Manhattan?”

  “Well, I don’t know.”

  “Walk the park with me. I won’t do only the park. I’ll give you a sight-seeing tour. I’ll go slowly.”

 

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