Fairytales

by Cynthia Freeman

  “She didn’t?” Dom asked, repeating the question only out of disappointment, then continued, “Do you have a reservation for her at all … anytime this week?”

  “Hold on, I’ll look through the book.” Scanning the pages, she said, “No, sir, I don’t see her name down.”

  “I see … now, if she does come at any time, it makes no difference when, please call this number day or night.” He gave the number to a very innocent operator, unaware that Catherine had been secreted away in a tower suite since earlier … so when she said … “Yes, sir, I have your information” … she filed away the slip of paper never dreaming it would in future have spared an overwrought Dominic plus seven children a great deal of anxiety. However, since a strict gag rule had been imposed by Mrs. Van Muir, the operator, who had no way of knowing, saw no need to even mention the call to the directress of the Farm. Dom hung up more disturbed than he pretended.

  “Alright,” Dominic said, his breathing labored, “she’s not there.”

  “Not yet,” Tory answered quickly to offset his father’s fears.

  “If that’s where she was going, she’d be there by now,” Dominic said adamantly.

  “Maybe she stopped off somewhere… overnight.”

  Dominic looked at Tory. “You don’t believe that anymore than I do.”

  “Fine, so where do we go from here?”

  “To bed, if any of us can sleep … and in the morning, we’ll call Santa Barbara, try and get some information about the rented car. That’s the first step.”

  “Then …?”

  “Well, obviously she’s got to turn that car in eventually. She can’t keep driving forever and by now, she’s too well known not to be recognized,” Dominic answered.

  However, for his peace of mind as well as the family’s, such was not the case. For days the Santa Barbara police department with the aid of the San Francisco department, under the cover of complete secrecy, alerted the State Highway Patrol to look for a Mercedes Benz. They were given the license plate numbers. That was the only information they had so far been able to obtain. Even if Catherine decided to go incognito, using her maiden name, at least the car had been taken out in the name of Rossi and her driver’s license bore that name … it was only another ambiguous clue, which up to now seemed to be unproductive. Dominic cancelled all his speaking engagements …

  “What’ll we give as an excuse, Dominic?”

  “Any goddamned thing you can think of … but for God’s sake, no excuses of sickness … that’s all we need is to start a rumor that the candidate had a mild coronary.”

  When the news media asked why he had returned to San Francisco … “On very pressing official business which demanded my immediate attention.”

  Each day that passed, Dominic tried desperately to believe Catherine was safe and well somewhere as the family kept trying to brainwash him. Now his anxiety about her welfare outweighed any hostility that might have crept into his overlapping thoughts. By the end of a terrifying week, he was unable to go to the Capital or function at all. He couldn’t sleep or eat. There were dark circles under his eyes and he was beginning to lose weight. In the sightseeing bus that passed daily, the passengers heard the tour director say and point out, “Now, ladies and gentlemen, on your right is State Senator Rossi’s mansion. It is considered to be one of the most…” None of them could possibly have known the gloom, the apprehension that went on behind those imposing double doors. The family never left Dominic alone. It was two weeks since Catherine’s disappearance. Now Dominic finally said to his children, as though he were delivering a eulogy:

  “I guess the time has come for us to announce publicly that Mama’s missing.”

  Gina Maria broke down and sobbed. Quickly, Sergio drew her to him for consolation.

  “Papa … should we give it another day or so?” Angie asked.

  “What for,” Dominic said with tears in his eyes, feeling all the burden of guilt heavily upon his shoulders. He had driven her to this. He wouldn’t wish his dreams, his nightmares on any enemy. He could see her lying in some ditch in some remote spot … he blinked his eyes. “We’ve waited long enough … there’s nothing to wait for. I’ve listened to many voices … Ricci’s among the few that knows. So let the public think this is a grandstand play … to hell with the public … the campaign … who needs it … who wants it…. the cost is too high.”

  Gina Maria began to scream, running out of the room with Sergio after her. A very sober, subdued Tony said, “Papa, somehow, I just know nothing has happened to Mama … I just know she’s safe … somewhere.”

  “No one hopes it more than me … go to church … pray, I don’t want to add to all of your worst fears, but if Mama were safe, she would have called one of us by now.” Dominic swallowed back the tears, got up from the table and went into his study, closing the door behind him. He was now prepared to have Chief of Police Howe make a statement publicly to the press… With that decision, he picked up the phone and called. Hanging up, openly crying, he said to the silent room, Catherine, where in God’s name are you …?

  Catherine at that very moment was luxuriating in a soft, lukewarm tub of fragrant blue bubbles at the Farm, lying back and thinking how much she had matured. She had survived this lonely ordeal longer than she’d ever thought possible … aside from the fact that she missed her grandchildren at times with a longing she had difficulty trying to control … It really hadn’t been too bad. She also missed her children. Disappointments? She had a few … except for Tish. The boys had disappointed her by marrying girls she was not too fond of, and Roberto? Better to blind herself on that issue. But all in all, this absence would make her appreciated more. I’m finally an emancipated woman. I’ve survived. Getting out of the tub, she dried herself, put on her sheer chiffon gown and matching peignoir, walked into the bedroom and waited for lunch which was soon to be served. Pouring herself a sherry, she thought what a joy Mrs. Van Muir has been … I’m never gonna forget how she listened to me pour out my achin’ heart… those terrible nights when I couldn’t sleep and she came up and played gin rummy till four … after all, I couldn’t keep the poor dear soul here till dawn … I do have consideration for the workin’ classes even if I’m not runnin’ for public office … but I’m never gonna forget her kindness, sittin’ with me, drinkin’ a little brandy, joinin’ me for dinner when I was so low in spirits … no, sir, I never forget a friend … let’s see … I’m gonna buy her … ? A case of brandy. Catherine heard the soft knock as Mrs. Van Muir wheeled in the luncheon cart. Taking off the silver domes, Catherine said, “Looks positively luscious … just simply too beautiful for words. That salad’s a work of art … and you got a raspberry napoleon this time … you darlin’ … my very favorite.”

  Mrs. Van Muir smiled and hoped Mrs. Rossi was doing fine. “Bon appetit …” she said, as she left the room.

  Catherine poured a glass of clear cold Chablis into the wineglass, held it up to the light … lovely, then took a sip … put the glass down, picked up a fork and stabbed a plump crab leg, put it in her mouth and savored it. A little music would go nicely … getting up, she turned the knob on the radio as the soft melodic strains of “Amapola, Pretty Little Flower” invaded the room. Returning to her luncheon, she seated herself again and contentedly continued to eat, humming in between bites. The song ended … another began … so pretty, she thought, when suddenly the announcer interrupted the melody. “We interrupt this to bring you this news bulletin. Senator Rossi of San Francisco … candidate for United States senator …” “Oh God,” Catherine thought, “not again … now on radio … it’s not enough I bashed in the television tube … what’s that he’s sayin’?”

  “… and she has been missing now for two weeks. The news has come as a shock to everyone. At this point, the police cannot make a definite statement as to the mysterious disappearance of Mrs. Rossi. The only clue they have is that she left Santa Barbara to join the senator in San Diego and has not been seen nor heard from s
ince. The senator and his family are in seclusion at the Rossi mansion in San Francisco and none of the family have made a statement. We will interrupt this program for any further developments …”

  The music began again … Catherine was dumbfounded, then excitedly happy, then frightened like a child about to dive off a high diving board. She ran for the phone … “Mrs. Van Muir, did you hear the news?” Catherine asked breathlessly.

  “Yes … oh my, yes, Mrs. Rossi. Do you want me to come up?”

  “I want you to get me a San Francisco paper.”

  “Immediately.”

  When Catherine read the entire account with her picture staring back at her, she was delighted… Well, Senator Dominic Rossi, I finally made it … pushed you off the front page … for a little girl who came from New Orleans I gave you a pretty good run for your money … San Francisco, here I come.

  She picked up the phone and called Gina Maria. “Mama,” she screamed, then cried, “Where are you?”

  “Never you mind about that… for now …”

  “We’ve been going out of our minds … tell me something … anything … ?”

  “Not now, all I’ll say is I’m fine … couldn’t be better … just had to get away and do some tall thinkin’.”

  “Why didn’t you let us know?”

  “’Cause it wouldn’t have worked.”

  “What wouldn’t, Mama?”

  “Straightenin’ out your Papa.”

  “I wouldn’t have told … if only you had let me know you were safe.”

  “Not intentionally … maybe, but if you’d seen him bein’ a little concerned you’d have told him.”

  “No, I wouldn’t have, Mama. We thought something terrible happened.”

  “No, sir, somethin’ wonderful’s happened. I’m gonna be a wife that counts and Papa’s gonna be a husband that cares or there’s not gonna be any senator named Rossi in Washington come November, ’cause there won’t be any marriage … hear?”

  “I hear …” Gina Maria answered between tears of grief and relief. “When are you coming home, Mama?”

  “I’m not comin’ home … that is, right away, but I’m comin’ back to San Francisco. When I get there, I’ll call you from the hotel I’ll be stayin’ at. I’m charterin’ a plane so no need to find out about nothin’ else. You’ve got my permission to tell the others … Gina Maria?”

  “Yes, Mama?”

  “How are my babies?”

  “Fine … they’ve asked for you, Mama.”

  “Well, I’ll be seein’ them soon. Now give ’em a big kiss and hug from their nonna.”

  “I will, Mama, thank God you’re safe and coming home.”

  “Me, too … nice to be wanted.”

  “We all want you, Mama.”

  “All? … well, we’ll see.”

  When Catherine arrived in San Francisco, it was five in the afternoon and getting out of the airport incognito, then picking up the car she had reserved earlier under the pilot’s name (a deed for which he was handsomely rewarded) was no problem, but how to get into the hotel without detection, incognito or not, was no easy task. She thought it out very carefully. She drove into the hotel garage in the rented Ford (so as not to call attention via any gawkers), quickly accepted the parking tag and walked rapidly up the backstairs to the employees’ entrance. Thus avoiding the main lobby, she opened the door carefully to see if anyone was around. Fortunately, the maids going off duty paid little attention to her, if at all, since she was still wearing the dark sunglasses, bandanna and a simple cotton dress she had borrowed for this occasion from Mrs. Van Muir which was much too long and much too tight, but so far, she had not been recognized. Finding a house phone, she called the manager. When he answered, she said, enjoying all the suspense, “I’m not gonna tell who this is, but come to the second floor employees’ entrance.”

  “Who is this?” he demanded.

  “When you get here, you’ll find out… and Fritz, don’t bring anyone with you … hear?”

  “Who are you? Fritz! … How dare you call me by my first name?”

  “Because I’ve been doin’ it for years … now get up here.”

  “I insist upon knowing who …”

  “I’m tellin’ you to get up here, then you’ll know!”

  He slammed down the phone and thought, should he take the security man with him? Well, of course he wasn’t going to go without protection, but he would have security stay tucked away, out of sight, just in case this proved to be more than he could handle. “Now, Sam, if I don’t come out in five minutes, you come in after me. Better keep the gun ready in case of any surprises,” Fritz said to security.

  “Right …” security answered, and stood back against the wall as his boss opened the door and went in.

  “Fritz … how are you?” Catherine asked, taking off the glasses.

  It wasn’t security Fritz needed … it was the fire department’s oxygen tank or mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. He looked like he was going to faint. “My God, Mrs. Rossi!”

  “That’s right … Mrs. Rossi … that’s just who I am.”

  “But …”

  “I know, they’ve had the mounties out lookin’ for me … well, I just found out this mornin’, but I don’t want anyone to know I’m here … hear?”

  Recovering sufficiently from his state of shock, he remembered Sam, who would be charging in at any moment like a bull. “Wait, Mrs. Rossi, security is outside. I’ll be right back.” He dashed from the room and returned within seconds. “Now, Mrs. Rossi, let me say how terribly happy I am to see you well and home.”

  “That’s just the point, Fritz, I’m not goin’ home just yet. I need a room … You’re the only person other than my family that knows I’m safe.” A bewildered Fritz stared with his mouth hanging open. “I’m not gonna explain, but you’re not to breathe a word about this to a livin’ soul… Ya hear?”

  “I understand, Mrs. Rossi … you have my word on that.”

  “I sure hope so … for your sake … ’cause if the word leaks out, I’ll know where it came from.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Rossi, you have my sacred word.”

  “I surely hope so, Fritz, ’cause we own a sizable hunk of stock in this fine establishment.”

  “Have no fear, my dear Mrs. Rossi … now what may I do for you?”

  “Well, first, I want a room … then get my luggage out of the car … it’s in the garage. Here’s the parkin’ tag …” Catherine handed it to him and added, “I want you and no one else to bring the luggage.”

  “Understandably.”

  “Fine, then I’ll give you an order for dinner … again, Fritz …”

  “I know, Mrs. Rossi, I will see no one knows. I will attend to everything personally …”

  “Right on …”

  Knowing this large, exquisitely furnished suite was only to be for a night, if that long, she hadn’t bothered to unpack. She was sick to death of rooms. What she needed now after that long lonely retreat was her home. Catherine was going home come hell or high water … hail or brimstone … Dominic or not … that house was hers as far as she was concerned, but first he was going to get out, if only temporarily … If they couldn’t come to a meeting of the minds once and for all, he could go permanently to hell. With each mounting thought grew the anger which had accumulated over a period of two weeks … no, a lot longer than that. But she’d face Dominic.

  Marching into the bathroom, she bathed, put on fresh makeup, slipped into a peach-colored sheer wool dress, put her size four and one-half feet into a pair of brown suede boots, pulled them up over her legs to just below the knee, then stepped back and observed her image. After wearing nothing but cotton shifts or staying in a nightgown all day … everyday for two miserable weeks, she looked wonderful, like the Catherine of old had just come back among the living. First, she called Fritz to have her dinner brought, then phoned Gina Maria.

  “Mama!” she cried, “I’ve been waiting all day.”

  “W
ell, I just got in a little while ago.”

  “I’m so relieved, Mama, where are you staying?”

  “Where else but at my favorite hotel atop Nob Hill … watchin’ the cable cars climb halfway to the stars.”

  “Mama, I’m so glad to hear you’re happy, but we’ve all been under such pressure … Mama, don’t you think the least you can do is call the family?”

  “No … absolutely not. In fact, Gina Maria, if you tell where I’m stayin’ I’ll never trust you with another secret… I swear, as long as I live.”

  “I won’t, but I don’t understand any of this, Mama … why didn’t you go home instead of to a hotel now that Papa knows.”

  “That’s a question I’ll answer later when you and Sergio get here … Gina Maria … ?”

  “Yes, Mama?”

  “What was your Papa’s reaction when you told him yesterday …”

  Gina Maria winced and swallowed hard. “You there? … Gina Maria?”

  “I’m here … he looked like, he looked like a beaten, bewildered man,” she answered, thinking, “I hope that satisfies you …”

  “Okay, darlin’, I’ll see you later.”

  Going to the bathroom, Gina Maria opened the medicine cabinet, reached for the bottle of aspirin, unscrewed the top, took two pills out and swallowed them with a glass of water. Trembling, she held on to the edge of the pink marble wash basin to steady herself. She looked at her pale face in the mirror, but the image she saw was not of herself, but the recollection of her father’s face which seemed to stare back at her.

  Remembering his first look of total shock, too dumbfounded to speak. It was as though someone had just risen from the dead. In those few moments he ran the gamut from relief to rage.

  “How could she have subjected us to this monstrous anxiety … put us through this unforgivable kind of apprehension. It’s inhuman …” he screamed as though he had lost all his senses. “What kind of a person in their right mind does a thing like that? I ask you, who?”

  So outraged, he shook with the desire to strike Catherine … to retaliate, if only she were there at that moment, and Gina Maria was sure he would have for the first time in his life. The effects of seeing her father in such a state unnerved her so, she could not control the fears of what she anticipated the first meeting would eventually be like between her parents.