Come Pour the Wine

by Cynthia Freeman

  “Just a little, Tory, just a little.”

  “You’re crying, Papa.”

  Dominic picked the little boy up and held him close as the tears ran down his cheeks. Then he wiped them with his sleeve and looked at the child. He must have been out of his mind to say he could leave. No wonder Catherine had tried to hold him back. No matter what she had done, it hadn’t given him the right to walk out on her and at a time such as this … what kind of man did a thing like that? … with small children and expecting? She had faults, so did he. If only he could remember Catherine was a spirited woman that wouldn’t be controlled or bent to his will. She simply wasn’t that way and wasn’t that the very trait he had fallen in love with. Of course, she was petulant and spoiled in many ways … and of course, a great many of their problems stemmed from the fact that Catherine refused to yield, thinking that if she did, it would make her subservient.

  What he wanted was for her to be a simple, understanding, loving wife who thought about his life and his welfare and his wants … and if that’s what he wanted, he should never have married Catherine. But goddamn it, wasn’t that the most selfish attitude a man could have. So, Dominic thought, the very thing I’m accusing her of is the thing I’m guilty of … thinking only of my needs. Beating himself mentally he was making all kinds of excuses in Catherine’s defense.

  “Everything is alright, mio figlio,” Dominic said reassuringly to his son as he took the child down the long hall back to his room. When he entered, Dom was sitting up in bed.

  “Is Mama alright, Papa?”

  “Yes, Dom,” he answered as he tucked Tory in.

  “But I heard Mama crying,” Dom answered apprehensively.

  “Yes, I know. She fell down, but she’s alright now.”

  The children must have heard them arguing and how frightening and insecure that can make a child, Dominic thought. Swallowing the hard lump in his throat he bent down and kissed the boy on the cheek and said, “Don’t worry, Dom. Mama’s fine. Now, go back to sleep … both of you … I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Good night, Papa,” they said as he closed the door softly behind him.

  He sat on the Victorian red velvet settee against the wall, with his head buried in his hands, and started to cry. Why did he allow his temper to become so fever-pitched. Catherine could make him so angry at times, he really wanted to choke her … no, not really. She had so much that was good in her. There wasn’t a more loving and devoted mother, an exceptional housekeeper and it couldn’t have been easy for her in the beginning. Of course she rebelled … she wasn’t accustomed to being denied. That wasn’t her fault, it was the way she’d been brought up. He was going to accept the things about her he didn’t like and try very hard to overlook them. It wasn’t easy to control one’s impulses when he was angry. “But I’ve got to learn to deal with Catherine for the sake of the children … for the sake of our own personal tranquility … for the sake of our future. I must. Dearest God, let Catherine have this child, born healthy and whole, please, I beg you.” Suddenly in his guilt Catherine emerged in his mind with all the virtues and none of the vices.

  He was startled when Dr. Vincente put his hand on Dominic’s shoulder and said, “I think everything is under control, I’ve stopped the bleeding. However, Dominic, I can’t say for sure that we’re out of the woods. We’ll know in the next few days … naturally Catherine is very upset which doesn’t help, but I’ve given her an injection for sleep … I suggest it might be more comfortable if she could have the bed to herself. Now, Dominic, get some rest, you look tired. I’ll be here early in the morning. Good night.”

  “Yes. You’ll forgive me if I don’t show you out?”

  “Go in to your wife, that’s more important.”

  “Thank you for everything.”

  “What for? Get some rest,” he said as he descended the stairs, but Dominic did not wait until the front door shut as he hurried to their room.

  Entering, he heard Catherine’s voice weak and unsteady, “Dominic, please sit here till I fall asleep.”

  “Yes, darling.” He seated himself once again in the chair beside the bed and held her hand.

  “Dominic?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your eyes are red … have you been cryin’?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, my dear … you do love me, don’t you.”

  “Very much, Catherine.”

  “I don’t know why I question you at times.”

  “Darling, Dr. Vincente said he’d given you something for sleep … we can talk another time.”

  “No, Dominic, please, I’m really not sleepy. Dominic?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m really wicked at times, I know it … I’m impulsive and in spite of knowin’, I go right on doin’ the very thing I know is gonna make you angry. Why do I, Dom?”

  “Because it hasn’t been easy for you … I know at times you feel frustrated. I’ve been so busy, trying to make a name for myself that I can understand you feeling neglected. But Catherine, I don’t know how to stop trying… I just can’t back up now at the most productive time in my life. Darling, all I can say is, I love you very much. I just wish we understood one another better. For all our sakes, especially the children’s, and become a little more tolerant of each of each.”

  “I surely hope so, Dominic … I’m gonna try, I really mean I’m gonna try.”

  “So am I, Catherine. Now, darling, go to sleep.” Dominic remained until Catherine fell asleep, then went downstairs and slept, uncomfortably, on the couch.

  The next few days were filled with a great deal of anxiety and although Dominic was in the middle of a large negotiation, he put off whatever he could in order to stay close to Catherine’s side. After watching Catherine carefully, Dr. Vincente said to Dominic, “I don’t think we have to worry any longer. If Catherine hasn’t aborted by now, I feel almost certain she will carry the full term, but she’s going to have to be very careful and rest a great deal.”

  “Thank God,” Dominic answered, sighing deeply. The worst was over.

  Since Dominic had still not seen the new house, Catherine said, when she felt stronger, “Darlin’, take me for a ride.”

  “I don’t think we should … yet.”

  “It’s alright. I asked Dr. Vincente and he said I could.”

  “Fine. Where do you want to go?”

  “To show you your new house.”

  “Okay, can I help you with anything?”

  “Just have Anna get the children ready.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go alone … just the two of us. It might be too much of a strain having them all come.”

  “No, darlin’, I want my whole little family to share this one glorious moment. It’s a happy day, Dom … we’ve survived so much together, I think we should all share in the joy, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” He smiled, kissed Catherine, holding her close, then went and gathered his brood.

  The children squealed with excitement, running all over the huge house. Little Dom slid down the bannister with Tory not far behind. And the twins were outside trying to climb a large tree, while Bobby, just turned four, was in one of the bathrooms, running the water in the tub and splashing his stockinged feet. By now, he was wet to his underwear … but it was such fun. Gina Maria hung onto her father’s hand. Even at two, the devotion she had for Papa was a thing that was to last all of her life. Excitedly, Catherine led Dominic from one room to another, then they stood before the large window overlooking the blue bay and the green hills of Marin. “What do you think, Dominic?”

  He was thinking he’d have to sell some of his investments in order for them to live here, but he owed her this. Smiling, he answered, “It’s magnificent, Catherine.”

  “You really like it?”

  “How could I help it.”

  “Dominic?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not angry anymore?”

  “Oh, no, darling … no
. In fact, I’m happy, now that you bought it. This is where you belong. I know it more than ever before.”

  “You mean it … really mean it … not just sayin’ that to appease me?”

  “No, Catherine, I mean it.”

  “But you said, I belonged here … you didn’t say we.”

  “I meant we … yes, we do belong here.”

  “Oh, Dominic, we’re gonna be so happy here, I just know it … feel it in my heart. It’s a place for the children to grow … for us to grow. Nobody knows better than I how important one’s heritage is and I want our children to have that … I also know you’re makin’ a lot of very important friends and I want you to be proud to bring them here. I haven’t begun to show my potential as a hostess. Dominic, you’re gonna be so proud of me. I’m gonna be what my Mama trained me for.”

  Dominic looked at his wife, his eyes narrowed slightly in contemplation. Then, ever so fleetingly, the thought of Catherine’s Mama vanished. He smiled, “Catherine, just be you.”

  “I’m gonna be, Dominic. I surely am gonna be me for the first time in a long time. And the kinda wife I’ve dreamed of bein’ in a house like this.” Then she walked quickly into the marble foyer where her happy voice echoed in the vast empty mansion, “Where’re my babies … Dom and Tory, get off that bannister and go look for your brothers.” When she saw Bobby soaking wet, Catherine laughed so hard, there were tears in her eyes. Then gathering them all around her, and with a grand sweeping gesture, she said, “This is our new home … it is indeed and this is where we’re gonna have the best time of our lives. I’m just about the luckiest woman in the world … and that’s a fact.”

  From that day until her seventh month, Catherine spent almost all her time at the new house with the contractor who was remodeling the kitchen and bathrooms, complaining about the costs, and taking their good old time to do the work. And the painter quit in the middle of the job because Catherine kept after him while he spackled the walls, watching for every tiny crack, but what broke the camel’s back was she decided the colors he had applied were not the same as she had chosen. Angrily, he walked off the job.

  At this point, she became irritable and terribly fatigued. Each evening, after the children were put to sleep, she would collapse exhausted on her bed and fall asleep immediately.

  Dominic was away on a case and would be for a few more days. At eleven o’clock that night, Catherine began to have excruciating pains. Her breathing labored, she called Dr. Vincente on the phone and told him to please come immediately. He was there within minutes. After examining her, he said, “Catherine, I’m going to take you to the hospital.”

  “No … no … I can’t go. I’m only in my seventh month; Dominic’s not here and I know I’m gonna die,” she screamed hysterically.

  “Now, Catherine, listen to me,” he answered as he put his arm around her shoulders, “you’re not to think of such terrible things … many women have premature babies. You’re a healthy young woman. Now, you must be calm, everything is going to be fine, just trust me.”

  “I do, but it seems everythin’ has been against me with this child and now, when I need my husband more than ever, where is he … ?”

  “Catherine, you’re not thinking rationally. Dominic had no more idea that this would happen than we did. I’ll phone him later. Where is he staying?”

  “The number is on my nightstand.”

  “Fine, now I’ll get your coat and we’ll go.”

  “No, I want to see my children first.”

  “We don’t have time for that. I’ll just tell Anna. Now rest for a moment.” He hurried from the room and was back before she could protest.

  The delivery was terribly difficult, and in her agony, she screamed out for Dominic. For a while, Dr. Vincente wasn’t sure if the baby was alive … he had lost the heartbeat.

  After eight hours, finally, she was taken to the delivery room where at last her child was born. He weighed only four-and-a-half pounds and was placed in an incubator. In the interim, Dominic had been notified by Dr. Vincente. For a moment, he could not recover from the shock of being told.

  “Is she alright? Tell me everything.”

  “Look, Dominic, let’s not waste any time … just get here as fast as you can.”

  “How is she,” Dominic asked, afraid of the answer.

  “She’ll be fine, but it’s not very promising for the baby.”

  “Oh, my God,” Dominic cried out, “I’m leaving immediately.”

  “When do you think you’ll be here?”

  “In about six hours if I can get a plane … tell her I love her.”

  He arrived just in time to see Catherine being wheeled out of surgery to her room. He followed behind, but was asked to wait since Mrs. Rossi was under sedation and that the nurse had a few duties to perform. Nervously, he paced the floor. When Dr. Vincente tapped him on the shoulder, he was startled as he turned around. “Come, sit down, Dominic.”

  Taking out a cigarette, he drew the smoke deeply into his lungs. With fear in his voice, he asked, “How is Catherine?”

  “She’ll be alright.”

  “And the baby?”

  Dr. Vincente shrugged his shoulders, “I’m not so sure, Dominic, he’s very tiny and we had a difficult time trying to start the breathing. For a while, it was nip and tuck, but we’ll watch him very carefully.”

  Dominic broke down and sobbed. Finally, he said, “It’s a boy.”

  “Yes … and he’s alive.”

  “Thank God.”

  “Thank God, indeed. It’s nice to know he’s on my side when I need him and in this case I sure did.”

  “I’m just sick that I wasn’t here.”

  “How could you have known this would happen anymore than I did. Everything seemed to be going so well.”

  “I’m away so much. I know I’m missing a lot.”

  “Come on, Dominic, don’t punish yourself. A man does what he has to do. Everybody makes compromises, trades one thing for another, including doctors. Now I think you can go in and see Catherine.”

  Dominic stood by the side of the bed and waited for Catherine to awaken. When she opened her eyes and saw him standing before her, she said, “I missed you.”

  He kissed her, then answered awkwardly, “I’m … I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”

  “I needed you, Dominic.”

  He just shook his head. Maybe he ought to give up and go into real estate … forget the dreams and the ambition. It seemed to be destroying them. His thoughts were interrupted by Catherine saying, “Dominic, have you seen the baby?”

  “No, darling, my main concern is you. I love you, Catherine, I love you.”

  He pressed her hand gently and swallowed hard, “What can I say?”

  The next ten days passed slowly and sadly for both of them, and when it came time for Catherine to leave the hospital without her child, her youngest, her Vincente, she was devastated.

  That first night was simply dreadful. Dominic tried to comfort her as best he could, but she would not be consoled … in fact, her nerves were so taut that she accused him of being responsible for the early birth, an accusation he knew was unfair, but nevertheless felt guilty about.

  He wanted to say, if you hadn’t made me feel impotent I wouldn’t have had any reason to leave, but he suppressed the desire to lash back. Quietly, he said, “No, Catherine, I don’t think that my leaving had anything to do with this.”

  “Then you’re sayin’ that I’m to blame.”

  “Catherine, please … nobody’s to blame.”

  “But you are blamin’ me, I just know it down deep in your heart.”

  “Oh, Catherine, please … how could I blame you for anything. It’s just something that happened … an act of God. Please, Catherine, stop crying, it isn’t doing you any good. Now let me give you a sleeping pill and try and get some rest.”

  “If anythin’ happens to that child, I’ll never forgive you.”

  In the next weeks, she fell into
a depression so deep that she refused to leave her room except to go to the hospital. When she returned home, she would collapse on the bed and cry. The children brought her no solace nor did Dominic. All she could think of in her confusion was what he had done to her. She couldn’t stand having him in the same bed.

  It wasn’t until a month later when the baby finally was strong enough to be brought home that her attitude changed. To add to her joy of the moment, she held in her arms the last child she knew she would have and took him to the nursery of their new home. She was overwhelmed with the feeling that somehow this new precious life was an omen that their lives would have a new beginning.

  But it didn’t quite turn out that way, did it, Catherine thought to herself as she watched the dawn break over the Arizona landscape. No, you’re damned right it didn’t. It was six and she hadn’t shut her eyes all night. She felt empty, spiritually, emotionally and gastronomically. Getting out of bed, she went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, washed her face and hands, put on some moisture cream and hand lotion, then went back into the bedroom. It was too early to call for breakfast so she opened a can of sardines, which she ate with crackers, peeled the foil off of the cheese and popped a cube in her mouth, then polished off the early morning snack with a few Danish cookies, which she dunked in cognac. Nothing was more tranquilizing than a little antipasto … that wasn’t exactly what Dr. Atkins would have approved of, but what the hell, thought Catherine. “Sardines in the morning, Mrs. Rossi?” “Yes, Dr. Atkins.” Let me give you a little of my expertise … doctor dear … you may know your carbohydrates, but I know what’s good for someone who’s ailin’ from a broken heart. Now, for instance, how’s your diet gonna help a woman who allowed her husband to get away from her … I ask you? Sure, you’d approve of the sardines and the cheese, but the crackers, the cookies and the cognac? Strictly against the rules, you say? Well, be that as it may, strictly between the two of us, who plays by the rules? Huh? Can’t answer that, right? Well, don’t feel too badly. I’m not so sure I can. Because all I know is I think I gave a lot to my husband, raising his children. Between the chicken pox, the mumps, the bumps and the rashes, I had my hands full, I can tell you. And while I was dashing off for fifteen years to the orthodontist, the obstetrician, the pediatrician, dancing school, the Boy Scouts, gettin’ the boys off to summer camps, the Girl Scouts, piano lessons … Whew! And tryin’ to furnish a beautiful house for Dominic to entertain those important people in, bein’ a charmin’ hostess and smilin’ when all the time I resented it because it was all for him … long before he ever thought of runnin’ for U.S. senator. Well, it wasn’t easy, I can tell you that, and while all this was goin’ on, Dominic was runnin’ in twenty different directions. Sure, he asked me to go with him, but he knew I couldn’t leave. In the beginnin’, I was so damned consumed with those seven kids and my house, I didn’t have time to notice how important he was becomin’. Then, all of a sudden, I woke up one mornin’ and Baby Dom was nineteen and away to school at Harvard and Tory was goin’ next year and the twins were fifteen, Bobby was thirteen and somehow different than the rest, in a way I couldn’t quite understand. He wanted to be by himself a great deal and read all kinds of weird books. I was a little worried about him, but I tried to be understandin’, knowin’ he was goin’ through an adolescent stage … and Gina Maria loved her Daddy so much, it made me feel absolutely superfluous. And Vincente was another source of worry because he was too small for his age and I kept taking him to a specialist for shots, but a lot of good that did. The doctor explained that he took after my side of the family, which didn’t satisfy me one iota. I knew all the time why Vincente was so small. The memory of my pregnancy was still pretty well fresh in my mind. And where was Dominic? Gettin’ richer and more powerful all the time. Do you think he appreciated what I was doin? When I asked, “What you doin’ all this for, Dominic?” He’d look at me as though I were askin’ if he was gonna bomb the Pentagon, then he answered, “What do you want me to do?”