Fairytales

by Cynthia Freeman

  He got up, pushed a button which separated the sliding panels of the hidden bar, poured himself a stiff drink and swallowed it in one gulp. Then he paced the length of the large room, no closer to the answer than he was since this morning. He pressed the intercom and told his receptionist he was leaving for the day.

  How he got to his car, he couldn’t remember. All he knew was he was driving wherever his instincts directed him. Finally, he brought the car to a halt at Baker’s Beach under the span of the Golden Gate Bridge and there he sat behind the steering wheel gazing out at the blue Pacific. Victoria … Victoria, what do I do, he asked himself. My children are important, I’m responsible for them … I helped give life to them, do I forsake them, in my heart for you … or do I forsake you for them? I don’t think I can have the best of two worlds, not because I’d be the first man in history to have a mistress, but because I’d stand in my own way. It’s me … something in my psyche that somehow holds me back. If only you had been a broad that I slept with, zipped up my pants … said it’s been nice knowing you, it would have been different, but unhappily for me, that’s not the case … I love you. But the more he dwelled on it, he finally came to the realization that no matter how much Victoria meant to him, he would have to live without her. He simply couldn’t play the game, it wasn’t his style. Quickly, he started up the engine and drove to the first pay station he found, got out of the car, then stood in the booth waiting for Victoria to answer as his heart pounded. When he heard her voice he didn’t think he had sufficient strength to tell her, but he steeled himself, saying, “Victoria, how are you, darling?”

  She didn’t respond immediately, then answered, “Sad … terribly sad because I know why you’re calling. I can tell from your voice.”

  “What can I say … except that I wish life had been different for us.”

  “A little late for that, isn’t it? I understand, in fact I knew last night it was over … you have no other choice, Dominic.”

  He wanted to say, You don’t know what this is costing me … giving you up, but the words stuck in his throat.

  “Actually,” she went on, “it’s worse for you … You have to live with a woman you no longer want. At least I don’t have that kind of thing to contend with.”

  “Victoria, what can I say to you?”

  “Nothing. We’ll both go on living, surviving. It just wasn’t meant to be … no woman can compete with seven children. The odds against that are too great … so, darling, I’m going to hang up now. But as a last good-bye … I love you, I always will.”

  “And I love you and I always will.”

  “Good-bye, Dominic.” He held the silent receiver in his hand for a moment, then replaced it on the hook, leaned against the wall of the small enclosure and wept.

  That night at dinner the platters were passed, family style. As Dominic helped himself to the fettuccine, Catherine said, “I swear nobody, but nobody makes pasta like Stella.” There was no answer required as everyone continued to eat. If only she’d keep her mouth shut, Dominic thought. “How beautiful it is to see my whole family assembled together. I think we should all toast our blessin’ and to Papa’s health.”

  “Saluté … Papa.”

  “Grazie, mio bambino, grazie.”

  As the dinner progressed, Dominic listened to the happy voices of his children as they spoke in Italian just as Catherine wished them to do when in the intimate circle of the family. Much as he loved them and was happy they were all together, he felt uncomfortable and ill at ease. He missed Victoria … he simply couldn’t help himself. He ate almost mechanically, not really knowing or caring what dinner was like. His mind kept wandering off wondering how Victoria was spending this evening alone. He could guess. We’re both alone, he thought, I’m sitting right next to you in that lovely serene room, holding you close.

  “Dominic, I planned this dinner especially for you … havin’ Stella make everythin’ you love.”

  “I’ll buy you a Ferrari, thanks.” Oh Christ, why couldn’t she leave him alone.

  “You enjoying it, Dominic?”

  “Yes.”

  Finally, with thanks to heaven, dinner had come to an end. The children went their separate ways. For a while Dominic sat at the table alone, drinking his wine. The thought of having to share the bed with Catherine tonight was a little more than he was up to. But after a while, he walked wearily up the marble stairs to their room. He undressed and showered, rubbed himself dry, put on his pajamas, the first he had worn in three months and got into bed, stared up at the ceiling. I suppose the end of an affair is more difficult in the beginning … it’s always that way … the loss of a person is shattering. What he felt was almost as painful as when his father had died … almost … there was that hollow feeling … that void that something was missing which was lost forever … it would take time … just time … tomorrow, it might be a little easier. But my God, Victoria was alive and living not more than ten minutes away … that was almost worse, wasn’t it? He was so deep in his thoughts, he hadn’t heard Catherine come into the room. She was saying something about Mama sending her love, and how hot the weather was and Rosa Ann’s daughter was expectin’ her first child, and that her relatives couldn’t have done more for her and the children.

  They thought the twins looked just like him and that Bobby was the spittin’ image of her and that Gina Maria was going to be a positive enchantress, and imagine, Tory going off to Harvard next year when it seemed to all of them that it was only yesterday she had been a bride … and … and … and … and the next thing Dominic knew, Catherine was lying next to him in her black sheer nightgown smelling of perfume, her hair loose and her breathing a little too deep. “Dominic, you don’t know how I’ve missed you,” she said passionately and seductively. How could he go on with this; if only she’d leave him alone. “Didn’t you miss me just a little?” Catherine purred as she moved closer to him and ran her fingers through his hair. After all, someone had to make the first overture, she thought … three months … that was a long time for a man like Dominic. But she was stunned as he said, getting out of bed, “Look, Catherine … nothing has been resolved just because you came home … what is this supposed to be, a reconciliation, a roll in the hay and everything is forgotten … Well, nothing has changed. I’m still the same lying son of a bitch you accused me of being three months ago. I haven’t changed and do you think I’ve forgotten that slap across the face … not for one minute, no … or taking the children and going home … back to Dixie … it’s taken me a little longer to get over that and don’t think I’m going to protest if you threaten that you’re going home again because frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. But the next time you pull a stunt like that, you’ll go alone, because those children are as much mine as they are yours and don’t you forget it. Beggin’ your pardon, the bed’s all yours.” With that, Dominic hurried from the room, slamming the door behind him, went to the storage closet, grabbed a blanket and pillow, walked quickly down the stairs to his study and locked the door.

  No sooner had he settled himself on the leather sofa … he heard Catherine knocking frantically, “Dominic, open this door!”

  “Get away, there’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Dominic, open this door, I’m warnin’ you.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “I’m warnin’ you, Dominic. If you don’t open up, I’m gonna get a hatchet and bash the door in … and I never meant anythin’ more sincerely in my life.”

  Dominic knew she’d do just that, so what the hell, he had no choice. Opening the door, she stormed in with her hands on her hips, stood before him, “Now, you tell me what the hell this is all about?”

  “I told you upstairs. You can’t come home and butter me up as though you’d just gone off on a holiday to visit Mama … I’m sick and tired of catering to your whims. I’m sick and tired of fighting you about how badly you’ve been neglected. I’m an ambitious man who’s going to achieve as much as he can, and I’m
not going to allow you to interfere with that. If you had loved me, you’d have been proud of what I’ve accomplished in twenty years. Instead, you’ve been a pain in the ass, constantly telling me the same damned thing over and over again … well, a man gets his belly full of that and I’ve had just about as much as I can take from you.”

  “You have, have you. Well, what do you propose to do about it?”

  “I think we should stay out of each other’s way as much as possible. It’ll be best for both of us.”

  “Is that a fact … Well, let me tell you, Mr. Rossi The Great, I didn’t have to come back and don’t think for one moment I hadn’t thought about it. Contrary to how you think my understandin’ should be about the great contribution you’re makin’ to the world’s cause, my life hasn’t been easy with you … I have felt I’ve taken second place in your affections and in your life … but with all of that, if I hadn’t loved you, do you think I would have humbled myself to you tonight … I tried sincerely and honestly to make up for whatever wrong you think I’ve done. Now, what do you want me to do, live the rest of my life beggin’ your forgiveness … get down on my knees in sackcloth and ashes. Well, I’m not gonna do that because I’ve got a few memories of my own. You said some pretty rotten things to me that night which seem dismissed from your mind and if you must know, it was you tellin’ me about my faults that brought on the whole miserable affair.”

  Dominic interrupted. “Listen, Catherine, we’ve been through this over and over again. I don’t know how to resolve my life with you, I really don’t.”

  “You don’t because you lack the understandin’ I need. You think only of your needs. Well, I’ve got mine, too.”

  With that, Catherine sat down on the chair and wept uncontrollably. She looked like a broken, bewildered child. Dominic bit his lower lip and shook his head. Even though he no longer loved her as he once had, still she was a distraught woman and seeing her cry as she was doing now evoked enormous pity.

  Finally he said quietly, “Don’t cry, Catherine, please don’t cry.”

  “I’m cryin’ because I do love you … in my way. I know you don’t believe that, but I do and when I think I’m losin’ you, I do and say things I know I shouldn’t ought to, but I don’t know how else to get your attention. And I go about it in the wrong way … I know it, Dominic … I really do know it.” She stood up and clung to him, burying her head against his chest. “I love you, Dominic, truly I do.”

  Awkwardly, he put his arms around her, “I know, Catherine, I know.”

  “Well, can’t you say you love me?”

  Painfully he swallowed and said, “I do.”

  “Then come back to bed where you belong. I’m your wife, Dominic, and that’s where you belong, not layin’ down here alone on this cold sofa, but next to a warm wife who’s been away for a long time.”

  They went up the stairs together with Catherine’s arm in his and at this moment, he wanted to be anywhere else in the whole world. Getting into bed, Catherine put her arms around Dominic and waited for him to respond. When he did not, she kissed him over and over again, trying to arouse his passion, but it served only to inhibit him. Finally, after a struggle to give Catherine what she so badly needed, he gave up, leaving her unsatisfied and unhappy. “I’m sorry, Catherine, but I guess I’m just too tired tonight. Please forgive me.”

  As he turned over with his back toward her, he felt her frustration. In spite of the rejection she said, “That’s alright, Dominic, I understand … sleep well, there are other nights.”

  The scene at home seemed, for Catherine, a normal simmering down of the past events. Once again, she took up her roll as mistress of her ménage. Dominic had performed his duty as a husband in bed only once in the ten days since her return and it had culminated much too quickly for her. It was not enough after her abstinence, but it was a beginning. Feeling sure that eventually he would recover entirely from their recent conflict, she felt comforted with that token. The chairs went out to be recovered, the draperies were sent to the cleaners, she shopped for the children, getting them ready for school, directed the household and now, once again, Catherine was doing the things she had missed. But for Dominic, life was not so simple. The night he had been forced to submit to Catherine’s advances, he had no alternative. But the only way he could accomplish an orgasm was to think of Victoria. And he had never stopped thinking of her … to such an extent that when he was in a conference, his mind wandered off to things they had shared. Remembering was a shattering thing that haunted him like a ghost he could not escape from. To make matters worse, he bumped into her, leaving court today. His pulse raced and his heart pounded as he said, “How are you, Victoria?”

  “Fine, Dominic, and you?” she answered, smiling.

  “Alright, I suppose.”

  It was impossible not to notice the change in her … the deep circles around her eyes made her appear tired and wan, she had lost weight. And although she tried to be casual, her hand trembled when Dominic lit her cigarette. They stood awkwardly, looking at each other, then Victoria said, “It was nice seeing you, but I have to dash back to the office.”

  “Victoria?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, nothing … just stay well.”

  “I’ll try,” she answered as she raced to the elevator while Dominic watched her disappear.

  After court, Dominic went back to his office and sat in the silence, where he remained until everyone had gone home. He was lonely beyond anything he had ever felt before. It kept digging into his consciousness. He wanted to scream or pound the walls. In final desperation he called Catherine and told her he would not be home for dinner since he had a client who had come into town unexpectedly. She was disappointed, but said she understood, which to him, mattered not at all. The only thing that mattered was Victoria. Seeing her today made him realize even more how impossible his life was without her. Quickly, he got up, left the office, then drove aimlessly around the city. When he shut off the ignition, it was in front of the building where Victoria lived. He sat in the car, debating with himself, even though he already knew the answer. The doorman came out, “Good evening, Mr. Rossi,” he said, opening the door on Dominic’s side.

  “Good evening, John, is Miss Lang in?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Thanks,” Dominic said as he got out. Nervously he pushed the button to the fifteenth floor, got out and walked to Victoria’s apartment. He stood staring before ringing, then his finger pressed the bell.

  Within a moment, it was opened and he saw Victoria standing before him dressed in mauve silk lounging pajamas. The shock at seeing him was written in her eyes. In fact, she could not find her voice.

  Finally, she said, “Come in, Dominic.”

  Entering, he closed the door behind him and stood facing her … without a word, he drew her to him and held her close. She trembled in his arms. Then he lifted her face to his and gently, tenderly, kissed her, then passionately, then hungrily, until they clung together as though they were one. He whispered, “How could I ever have thought I could live without you? God … oh, God … oh, God … I love you so.”

  “Don’t talk, darling, you’ve come back. That’s all that matters.”

  He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom and there they loved each other with a need so great nothing existed in the world except this moment. When they lay quietly in each other’s arms, Victoria did not question him about why he had come back … it simply didn’t matter. It was Dominic who broke the silence. “After seeing you today, I knew it was no use … no use at all… it’s been bad, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sweetheart, you know I said I never wanted to hurt you, but I did, didn’t I?”

  “You didn’t hurt me. It just overwhelmed us.”

  “How can I ever make up to you for what I’ve done?”

  “But you haven’t done anything, dearest. Let’s not even talk about it. Our time together is too precious … we’re her
e and that’s more than I ever hoped for.”

  The urgent passion spent, he kissed her, feeling her warm body next to his. Nothing quite equaled what he held in his arms.

  “Dominic?”

  “Yes, darling?”

  “I’ll bet you didn’t have any dinner?”

  “You’re right,” he laughed.

  “See, I can make one transition to the next. First, I can make exquisite, delicious love to you and then just like that, I become a Jewish mother … did you eat?”

  “Oh, God, you’re marvelous. I am hungry, now that you ask.”

  “Okay … you fix a drink while I make an omelet … your robe is still hanging in the closet.”

  As they ate he said, “This is the best thing I’ve ever had. But it can’t be too Jewish with all the green peppers, shrimp, ham and mushrooms.” He smiled that magnificent smile that lit up a room.

  “No, Mr. Rossi, it’s half and half. The eggs are Jewish and the other things are Protestant.”

  He laughed, “God, you’re wonderful.”

  “I know it,” she answered, matching his laughter, “and you, Mr. Rossi, are the most exciting, the most virile, the most exceptional … the most fabulous … the man of the year with the most animal magnetism … you’re the most.”