Hope's Angel

by Fifield, Rosemary

  Greg looked annoyed. “Actually, my car broke down, and it’s been in Swazey’s garage over on Pine Street all week. I’ve been sleeping on the couch in my friend Jim’s apartment.”

  “You’re kidding!” Connie’s jaw dropped. “And you still didn’t come find me? You were that stubborn?”

  Greg pressed his lips together and looked away. “At first I was just mad. And then I was afraid you’d think that was the only reason I was coming back—to get a ride.”

  Connie didn’t know if she should believe him or not, but it didn’t matter. A week without him had sent her life in a different direction. “I’ve got a date tomorrow night,” she said.

  Greg sat silently for a moment, then said, “Okay. Then how about Sunday?”

  She shook her head. “I think we should just go back to carpooling. For now, at least. Unless you don’t want to.”

  He stared off into the distance. “If that’s what you want.”

  “For now.”

  Greg stood up from the bench without looking at her. “Okay. I’ll pick you up on Monday, if that’s all right. I get my car back this afternoon.”

  “I’ll see you Monday.”

  ***

  Connie spent Saturday morning helping her mother in the laundry. In the afternoon she ran register for her father. She had worked on her statistics paper the night before, staying late at the library in order to get it done. She would finish the remainder of her homework on Sunday.

  Angie was out at the homecoming football game with friends. Connie secretly hoped she would match up with the boy who had wanted to take her to the game and dance, and that maybe her still-glum spirits would lift.

  Gianna had taken a daytrip to Boston with David to meet his widowed mother. They had left early that morning, before Connie was out of bed, and she was just as happy to have missed him. She hadn’t seen David since Sunday’s aborted dinner, and that was fine with her. Gianna had apologized multiple times for his behavior, until finally Connie had told her to stop, reminding Gianna that she wasn’t responsible for his actions. When Gianna left angry, Connie realized that her sister had hoped for reassurance that David had done nothing wrong. But that would not be forthcoming. Connie’s evening with Greg could have been the beginning of something special, but now it was tainted by anger and distrust that would take a while to forgive and forget.

  At four o’clock, Connie left the store and went upstairs to get ready for her date with Paul. She took a shower and washed her hair, then brushed it vigorously to tone down the natural curl as it dried. Instead of the gauzy peasant blouse and colorful tiered skirt she had worn the week before, she chose tight black pants, a black turtleneck, and shiny black knee-high boots. Large hoop earrings finished the outfit, and when Paul arrived at her backdoor, she slipped on a soft red Nehru jacket.

  He looked her up and down with unabashed admiration, a wide grin on his face. “Holy shit.” When his eyes met hers, they were shining with approval. “God, you look amazing.”

  She gave him a teasing grin, cocking her head to one side and raising her eyebrows. “Thank you.” She looked him up and down with equal abandon. “You look pretty good yourself.”

  Paul stepped out onto the porch and let her go down the stairs ahead of him. When they reached the bottom, he stepped up beside her as she headed for the street. They were basically the same height, and his incredible eyes were level with her eyes as they walked to his car. “I can’t believe it took us this long to get together,” he said, watching her.

  When she answered, “Me, neither,” he laughed.

  “Actually, it was because of Nino,” he said. “But you probably know that. He was jealous as hell about you. Even when you weren’t going out anymore, he made it clear he didn’t expect to see anybody else with you.”

  “And you honored that… until now.”

  “He knew I’d ask you out after he left. He said he was all right with it.”

  They had reached Paul’s car, a dark blue, souped-up Ford Fairlane GT. He opened the passenger side door for Connie, and she slipped inside, thinking about her last conversation with Nino. The way she remembered it, Nino had been defensive about the prospect of her going out with Paul.

  “By the way, Frankie’s ma got a letter,” Paul said as he slid in behind the steering wheel. “They’re doing okay. He didn’t say much, of course. It was pretty short.”

  “Well, at least one of them writes.”

  They made small talk as he drove the twelve miles to downtown Barre and pulled into the public parking area behind the buildings on Main Street. As they walked through the lot to reach access to Main Street, Paul rested his hand on the small of Connie’s back, sending a shiver of excitement through her that she fought to contain.

  The new restaurant called Dante’s Inferno was across the main street, beside a small groceria similar to the one Connie’s family ran. Inside, the restaurant was bright and colorful and bustling with noisy patrons enjoying hearth-baked pizza from the big stone ovens in full view at the back of the restaurant.

  A busy waiter seated Paul and Connie at a small table in the middle of the room and offered drinks. Paul ordered a bottle of red wine, and the waiter hurriedly carded him, then brought two glasses and took their pizza order. Between bites of spicy pizza and sips of wine, Paul and Connie talked about his apprenticeship, about her classes, and about their grandmothers who had become close friends after Nonna Balestra moved into her sisters’ duplex. They compared experiences growing up in heavily traditional Italian families, his Sicilian and hers Pugliese, and laughed over Connie’s stories of Cousin Tony burying the fig tree every year.

  By the time they moved on to dessert, the bottle of wine was almost empty, and Connie’s heart was full with the joy of being with Paul. His smiling gaze rarely left her face, and when they finished their espressos and ricotta pie, they had come to the same conclusion: a movie would mean sitting silently, side by side, engrossed in something other than each other. Dancing, on the other hand, would be more intimate and sounded like a lot more fun.

  Not surprisingly, Paul knew where to go, and when they weren’t seated in a dark corner of the small club conversing, they were in each other’s arms, dancing. Paul held her close, and Connie did not resist. She had waited so long for this, and the feel of his arms around her was the best thing she had ever experienced. His cheek was warm against hers, his soft curls brushing her face, and they fit together perfectly, their legs the same length, their torsos curving into one another. He was a smooth dancer, guiding her with ease, and she relaxed in his arms and let him lead. In between, he drank beer and Connie had club soda, but he never drank too much, the way he had at the church festa.

  At eleven o’clock Paul looked at his watch and suggested that they leave.

  “I don’t have to be home until midnight,” Connie said, dreading to see the night end. “Can’t we stay a little longer?”

  Paul leaned across the space between them and gently kissed her lips. When her eyes widened in surprise, he said, “We’ve already had our first kiss, remember?”

  Connie smiled. “I remember. I’m surprised you remember. You were pretty far gone that night.”

  “Not too far gone to know who I was kissing.”

  “You kissed Tina, too. And a few other people. Mostly women.”

  Paul laughed his easy, heartfelt laugh that she had come to love in just their few hours together. “I’ve thought about that kiss a lot since then. You can believe that or not, but it’s true.”

  Connie smiled. “I felt really bad last week when I had to say I couldn’t go out with you.”

  “It was stupid for me to expect you to be free, but I just had to ask. I’d put it off too long.”

  “Why did you put it off? I mean, once Nino was gone.”

  Paul’s smile disappeared. “Because you scare the hell out of me.”

  “I scare the hell out of you?” Was he kidding? “Why?”

  “It’s hard to explain. You’
ve got one hell of a presence, Connie.”

  “A presence?”

  “Yeah. I can’t explain it. You’re beautiful, and you’re smart, and you don’t take any crap. You’ve got this way about you that says you’re gonna make it, no matter what. I gotta say, it’s kind of intimidating.”

  “I intimidate you?” Paul Cefalu? “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Why? To be honest, I wasn’t sure you’d even go out with me. I’m no college guy.”

  How could he think that mattered? “College guys are just guys. They’re in school to learn a trade, just like you.”

  Paul smiled, then rose to his feet and held out his hand. “One last dance? Come on.”

  Connie followed him onto the floor and melted into his arms. She snuggled as close to him as possible, and when his leg slipped between hers as he pressed her breasts to his chest, she didn’t stop him. He turned and kissed the corner of her mouth, then kissed her cheek and her jaw where it met her ear. Connie closed her eyes as she savored his attentions and pulled him closer.

  The song ended, and they put on their jackets and headed for the door. Outside, the night air was brisk, and Connie snuggled against him as they headed across the parking lot to his car. He laughed as she knocked him off-balance, and they were still laughing when he opened the car door and helped her inside. When he slid in behind the steering wheel, she scooted across the bench seat to sit close to him, and he placed his hand on the inside of her thigh as he leaned over to kiss her. The presence of his hand in that vulnerable spot sent a thrill through her that cut off her breath. His kiss was hard and searching, and she pressed back against him, their teeth colliding, their tongues tasting one another.

  “Jesus,” he said, pulling away, letting out his breath.

  Connie realized then that they were in a pool of light from the parking lot lamps, visible to passersby in the lot. She moved away from him and waited for him to start the car. Her lips were still tingling from the pressure of his kiss, and she ached with the need to have him touch her in more intimate places.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t want to go too fast. But it’s up to you.” He was still breathing heavily, his profile to her as he started the motor.

  “We need to get out of here,” she said.

  He put the car in gear and drove out onto the highway. They were roughly twenty-five minutes from home. That meant they would have almost another half an hour before she needed to arrive inside her kitchen door.

  Paul drove without speaking, his eyes on the road ahead. Connie sat quietly beside him, a dozen conflicting thoughts going through her head. This was only their first date; she didn’t want to come off as fast. Yet, they had known each other almost their entire lives; they were hardly strangers. Still, she had no idea how many women Paul had bedded, and she didn’t want to be just one more on his list of conquests. Not to mention that she was still a virgin.

  “I don’t want to go too fast either,” she said, at last. “But I’m not even sure what that is. Do you know what I mean? I don’t know what you expect, Paul.”

  “What I expect?” Paul glanced at her, his eyebrows knit together. “I don’t know what you expect.”

  But of course, he had no idea what she was like, and most likely Nino had never bragged about his inability to score with her.

  “I’m sorry if that sounded like an insult,” she said, afraid she had said the wrong thing. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “I didn’t take it that way.” Paul kept his eyes on the road. “I’m a guy, Con. I’m going to take what I can get. But I’m not going to force you. I had a good time tonight. I want to do it again. I hope you do, too.”

  “I had a great time. And I do want to do it again. Very much.” She felt so inarticulate, unable to say what she meant. “It’s just… I don’t know what Nino told you, but I—”

  “Connie.” Paul’s brow furrowed. “You don’t have to go there. I know you.” His voice was soft and gentle, and he gave her an earnest smile that said he understood.

  She knew then she could love Paul Cefalu. He wasn’t just the guy whose face had kept her heart aflutter since tenth grade. He was kin. He was like her. He was familiar. He was security at the same time he provided a sense of danger she found exhilarating and challenging. He was family and he was foe, a threat to her virginity and all that she held as important, but he understood her and where she came from, and if she were to lose her virginity before marriage, it might be okay if it were with him.

  They reached her street with twenty minutes to spare. But instead of parking out of sight of her house, Paul pulled the car up in front of the store, turned off the motor, and immediately opened his car door. He came around to her side and helped her out with a smile on his face. She glanced up at the apartment windows. A dull glow behind the living room drapes was all she saw; no one was looking out, watching for them. She and Paul walked into the shadows beneath the stairs on the side of the house, and he pulled her into his arms. Their kiss was long and sweet and satisfying, and neither of them wanted to be the first to let go and start for the stairs.

  He rested his forehead against hers, their noses just touching. “Can I pick you up for church tomorrow?”

  “What time?”

  He pulled back and gave her the slow smile that turned her insides to jelly. “Nine. I don’t do seven.”

  Connie leaned forward and kissed his full lips again. “Sure. It’ll be nice to sleep in.”

  “Good. I’ll come by about quarter of.” He took her hand and pulled her away from the wall into the light of the porch lamp overhead, and they walked arm-in-arm up the stairs. At the top, he pulled her into his arms for one last, prolonged kiss. She stood in the kitchen doorway and reluctantly watched him leave, overwhelmed with longing before he was even out of sight.

  ***

  Paul was on her porch the next morning, as promised, and they went to nine o’clock Mass at Our Lady of Mt. Carmel. Connie had never been so distracted in church, acutely aware of him kneeling, standing, and sitting beside her, and she fought a continuous urge to reach out and touch him to reassure herself she wasn’t dreaming.

  After Mass, he drove her to Martino’s Bakery where they bought hard rolls and shaved ham still hot from the oven, then took them to his grandparent’s house, next door to Nonna’s. His parents and two of his sisters and their kids were already there. The adults sat at the big kitchen table to eat warm ham sandwiches accompanied by conversation and cups of dark-roast coffee. Connie already knew everyone in the sunny kitchen the way people in the neighborhood tended to know one another from church and school and a shared environment. Paul’s extended family patronized her father’s store, and she and her sisters went to the hairdresser who employed Paul’s sister Anne. Conversation and laughter came easily, and his family seemed genuinely happy to see her at their table. When she and Paul rose to leave, each person gave Connie a hug and said they hoped to see her again soon.

  “I know you have to study,” Paul said as they stepped onto the large covered porch on the front of his grandparents’ house, “but I was hoping we could just take a walk or something before you have to go.”

  “Where?” Connie understood what he was saying; she wanted to delay her separation from him, as well.

  “Anywhere. I don’t care. I just want to be with you as long as possible.” He took her hand, and they descended the stairs into the late morning sunshine. Indian summer had arrived, bringing a late-season burst of warmth, and they crossed Church Street to walk toward the quiet residential neighborhoods to the east.

  After an hour of strolling and talking about a dozen small things, they came full circle, back to Church Street. “I don’t want to wait until next weekend,” Paul said as they approached his grandparents’ house. “I’m not working any evenings this week. Can we do something?”

  Connie smiled, for she felt the same urgency to be with him and dreaded the thought of a long separation. “We could plan something and hope I
’m not swamped with homework,” she said. “I get home about five-thirty most nights.”

  “Wednesday?”

  “Sure.”

  They had reached his car, parked in front of Nonna’s duplex. Connie glanced up at the lace-covered windows on the second floor. Nonna was at Connie’s house, and if she could be sure that The Aunts weren’t around, she would invite him to join her upstairs. She knew where Nonna kept the spare key, and they could have some private time together.

  Paul understood the meaning of her glance. His eyes searched her face, and his expression was serious. “My folks are here, but Anne’s husband could stop by their house any time.”

  Connie nodded, her eyes trained on his. “I know. There’s nowhere to go.” She gave him a wistful smile. “And I should study anyway.” She reached out to touch his sun-warmed cheek with her fingertips. How many times had she dreamt of doing that but never had the right until now?

  He reached up and took her hand in his. “We’ll have lots of time,” he said. “Or, at least I hope so.”

  A pang of fear shot through her at his words. He might be referring to the hope that things would work out between them, but she suddenly remembered Vietnam and his potential to be drafted.

  He caught the change in her immediately. “What’s wrong?”

  Connie shook her head. He didn’t need to know what was darkening her thoughts. “Nothing. You’re absolutely right. We’ll have lots of time.” She reached out to cover his hand with hers. “Let’s walk to my house. I know your car’s here, but walking will give us a little more time together.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Monday, October 21

  “I’ll drive,” Greg said. He was standing on the curb beside his Mustang, watching her as she approached from the house. He held the door open, and she slipped inside, lowering herself into the bucket seat, piling her books onto the long denim skirt covering her lap.

  “How was your weekend?” he asked as the car pulled away from the curb.