Fairytales

by Cynthia Freeman

  Dominic took a deep breath, then sighed, walking to the window, “Lots of people are separated and the children grow up.”

  “But how do they grow up, Dominic?”

  “That I can’t answer, Catherine. But we can’t relive the past. We’re just going to have to do the best we can with the future.”

  She slumped back into the pillows, sorry she had brought up the issue that was long since gone.

  That evening Dominic and Roberto returned to the hotel. Silently, Roberto went to Catherine’s room and Dominic to his. Taking off his shoes, he lay on the bed and called Victoria.

  “We’ve found Bobby.”

  “Thank God,” Victoria sighed. “Was it an ordeal?”

  “Yes, but at least he’s safe and his mother’s happy.”

  “How is she?”

  “Better, much better.”

  “How long will you be away?”

  “About a week or so … it depends on her … how quickly she can travel.”

  “I hope it will be soon. Darling, get some rest now that the worst is over.”

  “I don’t know about the worst… but at least he’s in the next room.”

  “He’s just a boy, darling, he’ll grow up.”

  “And while he’s growing up, I’m growing old.”

  She laughed. “You’ll never grow old. Now, get some rest and call when you can … I love you, sweetheart.”

  It was only nine-thirty and with nothing else to do, he put his shoes on again and went downstairs to the bar. When the drink was served he sat twisting the glass in his hand, then took a sip. Finishing, he ordered another. God, he felt lousy. Getting up, abruptly, he walked across the lobby out into the street. The rain had stopped. Although it was very cold, he did not bother to go back and get a coat. Instead, he walked along the boulevard for blocks, trying not to think. It was eleven when he put the key in the lock. First, he looked into Catherine’s room to see if Roberto was there … he was and fast asleep. Then he went to his room, picked up the phone and called the overseas operator again.

  “Will you hold on, sir, or shall I call you back?”

  “Call me,” he said, hanging up. Undressing, he prepared for bed when the phone rang. Quickly picking it up, he said, “Anna?”

  “Si, Signore Rossi, how is Signora?”

  “Much better, grazie … let me talk to Gina Maria.”

  “She’s not here.”

  “What! It’s only seven in the morning. She can’t be at school.”

  “She’s not.”

  “Then where is she?”

  “Staying overnight with a friend.”

  “What friend?” Dominic asked angrily.

  “A girl from school.”

  “What girl?”

  “Wait, I call Vincente. He tella you.”

  “Hurry up. This is long distance.”

  “I’ma gonna go,” she said, running up the stairs. “It’sa your Papa on’a the phone. Come quick … it’sa long distance.”

  Lifting off the receiver from his phone, he said, “Hi, Papa, how are you?”

  “Fine and how are you?”

  “Great… how’s Mama?”

  “Better … tell me, where is Gina Maria?”

  “Sleeping overnight at a girl’s house.”

  “What girl?”

  “From school.”

  “I know that, but what’s her name?”

  “Pam McCormack.”

  “Who the hell is she?”

  “I don’t know. They go to school together.”

  “You don’t know! Do you have her phone number?”

  “Yes, hold on for a minute. I’ll get it.” Soon, he was back, giving Dominic the number.

  Writing it down, he said, “This is the way you take care of your sister? Three grown boys in the house with a grandmother and you let her sleep at a girl’s house you don’t even know?”

  “What do you want from me, Papa? It’s only a girl’s house she’s at. From the sound of your voice you’d think she was being raped.”

  “That’s enough … from now on, when we’re away, I don’t want any of you to sleep away from home … you hear? I mean none of you.”

  Big deal, Vincente thought, but it’s all right for you to sleep with another woman. “Okay,” he said sullenly.

  Dominic caught the intonation in his voice. He was beginning to realize that since he had become the errant father, he was being more demanding with the children. “All right, Vincente,” he said more softly, “be good. Take care of yourself and Gina Maria. I depend on you. Now, let me talk to Angie and Tony.”

  Vincente swallowed hard, “Papa … don’t holler, but they’re not here either.”

  “They aren’t?” he asked, bewildered … it was too early for them to be in school. “Where are they?”

  “Papa, please don’t get mad now.”

  “What is it … tell me.”

  Slowly Vincente answered. “They’re in Juvenile Hall.”

  Dominic took the receiver from his ear and looked at where it lay in his lap. Finally, putting it back to his ear, he said, “Juvenile Hall? Why?”

  “You won’t get mad?”

  “I won’t get mad … what happened?”

  “Angie … now you’re not going to get mad?”

  “No…”

  “Okay, Angie talked Tony into taking a motorcycle … now, wait a minute … it doesn’t sound like it really was.”

  Long pause, then, “What was it really like?” Dominic asked.

  “What happened is they were just goofing off with this kid’s bike and drove away.”

  “And?”

  “And they took it overnight.”

  “Don’t tell me … let me guess … the kid thought they stole it, right?”

  “Right, Papa … how did you know?”

  “Because I’m psychic … then what?”

  “Well, the kid’s old man called the cops and said Angie and Tony swiped the bike … and when they got here they found it parked in front of the house.” Vincente hesitated.

  “That’s okay, Vincente, I’m listening.”

  “Well, Papa … they handcuffed Angie and Tony, put them into a police car and took them to Juvenile Hall.”

  “Handcuffed them … took them to Juvenile Hall?”

  “That’s right, and was I mad … I called the boy every name in the book and told him the twins had only meant to borrow it and were bringing it back but he wouldn’t buy that.”

  “He wouldn’t… who is the boy … ?”

  “Peter Owens. He called you a terrible name. That’s when I swung at him.”

  “You tried to fight him?”

  “Yes, but he was bigger.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “Only gave me a black eye, but I wasn’t going to let anyone call my father the Mafia.”

  Dominic put his hand up to his forehead to stop the pounding.

  “Are you mad, Papa?”

  “No, mio figlio … I’m proud of you … very proud … now, Vincente, call Gina Maria and tell her I called. I’m depending on you to take care of her. I don’t want her to sleep in any girl’s house, you understand? I’d call, but first I want to get the twins home. Don’t tell Mama, if she calls. There’s no need to upset her.”

  “I won’t, Papa… did you find Bobby?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you mad at him?”

  “No … not anymore.”

  “I’m glad … give Mama my love and say hello to Bobby.”

  “I will… grazie, Vincente, we’ll be home as soon as possible … you’re the man now. Take care of everything.”

  “I will, Papa … arrivederci.”

  “Arrivederci, Vincente.” Hanging up, he placed a call to his partner’s home.

  “Dominic?”

  “Yes.”

  “How’s everything going?”

  “Couldn’t be worse.”

  “Wh
at do you mean … you still haven’t found Roberto?”

  “We found him … at the moment he’s not my problem.”

  “You’ve got more problems?”

  “The twins are being detained at Juvenile Hall. I want them released immediately.”

  “Juvenile Hall?”

  “Right.”

  “On what grounds are they being held?”

  “For … for borrow … for stealing a kid’s motorcycle, which they didn’t intend to keep. I want them out of there in a damn big hurry. Comprendere?”

  “Right… I’ll get on it immediately.”

  “Call me the minute they’re home.”

  “Will do … how’s Catherine?”

  “Better.”

  “That’s something to be grateful for.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Dominic, I know this is not the time, but I’ve got to say it… this is your nickel and you can tell me to mind my own business or to go to hell, but, Dominic, go home, make it up with Catherine … that’s where you belong … the head of your house. If you were, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Now, don’t blow your stack … I never said a word or tried to give you any advice when I found out about you leaving … but listen to me, Dominic, no matter how much you love this woman, your kids come first… now, tell me to keep my damn mouth shut.”

  Dominic sighed deeply and remained silent.

  “Dominic? You there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry I shot my mouth off. I suppose it’s just the Sicilian in me … not that I’ve got much to brag about in the broad department, but when it comes to the Mrs. and especially the kids, that’s a whole different ball game … Still friends?”

  “Still friends … thanks. Now get the boys home.”

  “It’s done … talk to you later.”

  “Good.” Dominic hung up slowly. Jesus … his whole life had come crashing down on him. Who did he owe? The painful answer came rushing at him like a bulldozer, hitting him right in the pit of his stomach. Victoria … Victoria … I love you more than anything in the world. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, but I’m not Dominic Rossi … I’m the father of seven children whose lives have to be shaped … whose lives I hold in my hands … I can’t turn my back on them … I love you, but I can’t have you because I don’t own myself.

  The next morning Dominic sat across the table from Roberto having breakfast in their rooms. It was to an angry Roberto Dominic said, “Your mother was happy to see you.”

  “That’s great … and so were you when you rushed into my room like gangbusters yesterday.”

  “I’m sorry about that, Roberto.”

  “Sorry? You’re sorry?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s very nice, but it doesn’t excuse what you did.”

  Dominic said, “It doesn’t excuse what you did either … running away.”

  “Maybe not, but I just got fed up with the whole fuckin’ world.”

  Dominic was shocked to hear the word from his son. He said nothing. “What made you so fed up?”

  “Segetti … putting me through the hoops like I was a circus performer.”

  “Do you know what he told us?”

  “That I was a bum … a lazy bum, right?”

  “Wrong … that you were a gifted sculptor, if only you had the discipline … in fact, he said your talent was extraordinary.”

  “He said that?”

  “Yes, and much more about your ability, but that you lacked the incentive.”

  “What does he know about incentive? He thinks everyone is the same … can be driven the same … I’m not a machine. I have to work things out my own way—”

  “And what way is that?”

  “To work when the inspiration hits me. If it’s in the middle of the night or in the middle of July, I’ve got to do it when I want to … I don’t want to be told when to create. Maybe that’s the way most artists work, but not me. Don’t you understand … I’m a person … Papa, a person with my own ways.”

  Dominic shook his head. He was beginning to understand a great deal … “Okay, Roberto, what is it you want to do?”

  Roberto looked at his father … it was the first time he had ever been asked. “You really asking, Papa?”

  “Yes … I’m really asking.”

  Maybe the old man didn’t want to make him over into his own image after all … was it possible the old man was growing up?

  “Let’s talk, Roberto … about you. We’ve never done that, have we?”

  “No, did you ever give us the chance? Were you ever home long enough?”

  “Well, Roberto, I’m sorry … but I have needs too. Whether they’re the same as yours is unimportant … Now, about you.”

  For the first time, Roberto forgot his anger and set aside his hostility. “I want to go home … but not back to that big house … it suffocates me … what I want is a studio with a glass slanting roof, a bed, a table and a toilet. I want to paint … murals at four o’clock in the morning if I feel like it or all night or not for days sometimes … I want to explore myself. I don’t want to conform … I don’t like ties, Papa. They choke me … not my neck, my soul.”

  Dominic sat silently, listening for a long while. Catherine, in her way, knew more about their son than he did. Once she had said he needs room and that’s really what Roberto needed. “Alright, Roberto, when we get back, you find a place and I’ll buy it for you … that is, if it’s not against your principles.”

  Roberto smiled … it was the first time Dominic could ever remember him doing so and, at that moment, he loved Roberto more than he could say, not only loved him, but admired him because he stood up for what he believed in … maybe they weren’t so different after all. Both fighting for the things they wanted. Suddenly Dominic felt a strong bond between them. “It’s pretty tough, Papa… trying to be a human being, isn’t it?”

  “That’s pretty profound stuff, Roberto … and the answer is yes … very …”

  Roberto looked at Dominic. “Funny, isn’t it … to find out about your father in a few minutes when you’ve been living together all your life?”

  “Sometimes it takes a real crisis to wake us up.”

  “Right… I sure caused one, didn’t I?”

  “You sure did, but maybe it was a necessary one … a new beginning for you and me.”

  “Maybe. I hope so, Papa.”

  “Okay, Roberto, go get dressed and we’ll go and see Mama.” Getting up, Dominic said, “If you don’t want to wear the tie, don’t.”

  Roberto smiled and answered, “I want to while we’re here…” Laughing, he added, “it’s the least I can do to make up for the trouble I put you through.” Dominic laughed back, then put his arms on Roberto’s shoulders and held him close.

  Catherine sat in the large chair near the fireplace, warming herself with a blanket around her knees. The George V Hotel wasn’t home, but she was grateful for it “Dominic, you don’t know how good it is to be here … after eight days in the hospital … you certainly had your hands full.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Thank you for everythin’.”

  Dominic shrugged his shoulders as he sat on the sofa. “No thanks needed.”

  “I’ve noticed a great change in Roberto … he seem so changed, so calm … not at all like the boy we brought to Florence last year, I’ve noticed a difference between the two of you too … Dominic?”

  “Yes …”

  “You’re quite a father.”

  “I wonder.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to wonder… look at Roberto. It takes a father, I can tell you that. No matter how hard you try, a mother’s just not able to handle children the same way … I suppose it’s a different kind of respect they have.”

  The moment had come, a moment he’d thought long and deeply about, but the decision was hard and difficult… he was trading his own personal happiness … his love … his joy in Victo
ria … But there was no other way. He would have to be a husband once again with all that involved. “Catherine,” he said, “you know with all that’s happened in the past few weeks … with you being sick, and Roberto … well, I’ve done a lot of thinking and I’ve finally realized that when you’re a parent you can’t just think of yourself. Sometimes you can’t think of yourself at all. What it boils down to is something you said. You’re right. Children have got to have a mother and a father … So, in spite of what’s happened between us, if you’re willing, Catherine, to try again, I feel my place is with my family …”

  Catherine shut her eyes and mentally put her hands together, pointing them toward heaven. Thank you, dear Mother Mary, for your blessings, I’ve prayed for this moment.

  Dominic went on, thinking the decision was difficult for Catherine to make. “Would you … be willing to try again … ?”

  Holding back the tears, she answered, almost whispering, “Yes, Dominic, I’ll try.”

  “That’s the most, or should I say the least, we can do for the children.”

  Thank you, God … thank you, Jesus. “Yes, Dominic, the very least.” What about the other woman? But thinking she knew Dominic … he would never have asked if his intentions were not to break off with her.

  “There is only one thing I feel we should understand,” he said.

  “And what’s that?” an apprehensive Catherine asked. Maybe she had been too confident.

  “Well … you know I’ve always wanted to get into public service. Since Dom will be through with school this June, he can assume many of my responsibilities. I’m going to take an active part in the party … there’s a Senator DeKaye I want to see get reelected, which is going to mean a lot of campaigning. I’m telling you this because most of our past problems have come from my being away. Do you still want to try … knowing that?”

  “You want me to be honest?”

  “Yes—now’s the time.”

  “I don’t like politics, never did—but that’s not important, now. What really matters is the family. Yes, Dominic, we’ll try.”

  Roberto came back from walking. He was a welcome diversion.