by Alice Addy
Tony killed the motor. “Get out, honey. We’re home.” He made a cheesy smile. “I’ll get your bag.”
Giada ran up to the porch and plopped down in one of the comfortable looking chairs. “I’ve never been out of Chicago before. Did you know that, Tony? Have you been out of Chicago much?”
Tony snorted and rolled his eyes, but Giada didn’t see. “You could say that. I’ve been all over the world, sweet cheeks, and I’ll probably keep on traveling.”
Giada looked up at the darkening sky. Twilight had descended without their noticing. She sighed. “It must be wonderful to see so much. It must make you very smart.”
Tony sat down on the rough-hewn step and looked at the beautiful girl curled up in the rustic chair. “I don’t think I’m that smart, and life on the road can get lonely. It’s hard to make lasting relationships when you know you’ll be moving on.” He thought that was true about his life in general. Not only had he traveled great distances over the course of his life, but he had left many friends behind as well, lost in time. That was the saddest thing of all.
“Night comes quick up here, Giada. I think we need to unpack and get some dinner started. We need to turn in early.”
Giada explored the cozy cabin. It was clean and homey. Against one wall stood an upright piano. She’d play for Tony, later, she decided, hoping it was tuned. A huge round table sat in the middle of the room. Its center pedestal was made from an ancient tree trunk. Several animal heads adorned the stonewall above the fireplace. She found a deck of cards in a drawer, along with some dominos and a jigsaw puzzle.
“Look here, Tony,” she announced, excitedly, as she held up the cards and dominos. “At least we won’t get bored.”
Tony had no intention of getting bored. He had to keep his eyes and ears open, while they were in hiding. He needed to provide security, and he needed to keep his libido in check. Giada was so damn beautiful. She made his eyes hurt and his groin ache. Her plump breasts jiggled slightly, tucked in the delicate white blouse she wore. He’d already seen her shapely legs, on stage. Giada was exquisite and as sweet as sugar. He needed to be on guard at all times, and try to avoid her. “Damn,” he muttered, praying he could rise to the insurmountable challenge.
Giada made sandwiches and opened a can of tomato soup. She sliced some apples and slathered them with peanut butter. Tony made the coffee, hot and strong. Giada chose milk.
Dinner was consumed quickly, and in relative silence.
Tony stood looking out the window, staring into the darkness. “Let’s take the apples and beverages out onto the porch,” he suggested. “I miss the night sounds of the deep woods.” Tony sighed. “In the city, the noises are so loud and jarring. They disrupt your life. But here, a man can think. I feel as if there is still some hope for me, and I don’t have to run from life.” Tony was embarrassed to hear his private thoughts spoken, aloud, but here, and with Giada, he could voice his innermost fears. “The quiet sounds of the night calm your nerves and lull you to sleep.”
He turned toward Giada, to help her out onto the porch, and discovered she had fallen fast asleep at the table, never hearing a word of his deeply felt confession. It had been a long day.
Tony quietly closed the screen door and walked over to the sleeping beauty. He picked her up, surprised to find she weighed nearly nothing, and deposited her on the soft double bed. A colorful quilt was pulled back and four feather pillows waited for her to rest her sleepy head.
He kissed her cheek and whispered, “Sleep tight, darling. You’re safe, here.” He pulled the quilt up to her chin and turned down the lamp. He’d sleep on the sofa, as there was only one bed.
“This could be a long, long retreat,” he muttered.
* * *
The sound of birds singing their morning songs awakened Giada. The bright sunlight streamed through the crystal clean windows and heated the wood planked floor. It was a lovely morning. She sat up and stretched, looking around the comfortable room for Tony, but he was nowhere to be seen. She could get used to this, she thought.
“Morning, sleepy head,” Tony called to her, from the back door. “How are you feeling this fine morning?”
Giada smiled like an adorable child. “I’ve never slept better. Oh, Tony. I don’t ever want to go back to Chicago. I wish Mama could come up here for vacation, someday. She and Papa work so hard.”
Wanting to make her happy, Tony heard himself say, “I’ll see what I can do. I have a few connections.”
Immediately, Giada was sailing off the bed and flying into his arms. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “I love you, Tony. You’re the best!”
Tony knew that she didn’t mean ‘love’ exactly. She was simply very happy. “Do you love me as much as you love Paul Whiteman?”
Giada tapped her teeth with her manicured nail. “I don’t know. I do love his music. Do you play an instrument, Tony?”
“Uh-hmm.” He cleared his throat and strutted around the room. “As a matter of fact, I play the flugelhorn.” He tried not to laugh.
“You don’t! No one plays the flugelhorn! You made that up.”
“Did not.”
“Did to.”
“Listen to yourself, Giada. You sound like a child,” he chuckled.
“Do not.”
He laughed again. “Do to.”
Suddenly, he grabbed her by the waist, and swung her around the room until she shrieked with laughter. It felt good to play as children. He no longer felt so old. He didn’t feel cursed. In fact, he felt blessed. In his arms was the most wonderful creature he could imagine, and she was happy to be with him. He sat her down, on her feet, and kissed her. Really kissed her.
Giada closed her eyes. “Mmmm, I like this,” she sighed.
Tony drew back and smiled. “So do I. You’re very kissable. I’ve got a treat for you.”
“You do?” Giada’s eyes opened wide with surprise. “What is it? Candy? I love candy. Or is it cake? Pie?”
Tony laughed. “You remind me of a child at Christmas. Come here and I’ll show you,” he grinned as he reached for her hand.
He led her across the front room to the far corner. Partially concealed behind a large potted plant, was a phonograph—a portable phonograph.
“Oh, Tony! It’s wonderful! Does it have any records? Can we take it anywhere?” Giada had seen the advertisements for the new portables, and wished she owned one, but they were very expensive. She guessed this one cost more than forty dollars—a king’s ransom. That’s more than she made in a month.
“Well, let’s see.” He found a stack of recordings on a small table. “Paul Whiteman’s, ‘Hot Lips’, is here.”
Giada wrinkled her nose. “I love Paul, but I like his new recording, ‘Three o’clock in the Morning’, better. Is there any Caruso?” She tried to peek around his shoulders.
“I found ‘Some Sunny Day’. It’s Irving Berlin.”
She shook her head. “Do you see Enrico Caruso?”
“There’s some George M. Cohan. I like him,” he confessed. “There’s Al Jolson and Eddie Cantor. They’re so funny. I saw them both, the last time I was in New York,” Tony said, casually. “Oh, here’s, “My Buddy”, by Henry Burr. You know that one, don’t you?”
Giada nodded. “I don’t like it. It makes me cry. Are you sure there’s no Caruso?” she pressed. “I wish I could have seen him sing. He came to Chicago, all the time, but I couldn’t afford the ticket to hear him. He did see me dance, once, and he winked at me,” she crowed.
“I bet he did wink,” Tony growled, remembering how fetching Giada looked on stage. “I hate to disappoint you, but there is definitely no Caruso in this stack.”
“Oh, well. It doesn’t make any difference anyway. I can’t believe he’s dead. He was so young.” She thought for a moment and turned toward Tony. She grasped his arm, and turned him to her, so they were face to face.
“Life is short for all of us, Tony. None of us know when we will be called to para
dise.”
Tony started to say something, but Giada put her fingers to his lips to silence him. “Not the Paradise Lounge, Tony...heavenly paradise.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m serious. That is why life is so precious. Everyday is a new chance to make life better for someone else. It’s really not about ourselves. I want to make things better for my family. They try to make things better for me. I want the best for you, Tony. Your eyes hide a deep sadness. Perhaps, in time, I’ll be able to erase that sadness,” she said, hopefully. “You need to find a purpose in life...an incentive for getting up every morning and doing your best throughout the day. Then you’ll have a reason for living, however many years you have left.”
Tony placed his hand around her tiny waist. “You’re how old, Giada? You are wise beyond your years, sweetheart.” He leaned down and lightly kissed her lips.
Clearing his throat, Tony announced, “I’ve a wonderful idea. You make a light lunch, and I’ll pack up this machine. We’ll go on a picnic. It’s a beautiful day, and although there will be no Caruso, I think Paul Whiteman will do nicely. What do you say?”
Giada bounced up and down, and clapped her hands. “Yes, yes. I’ll be ready in a jiffy.” She rushed to the cozy kitchenette, and stopped, turning to look back at Tony. “We aren’t going to go out onto the water, are we, Tony?” She needed clarification.
He shook his head. “No sweetie. Just a picnic.”
Her eyes narrowed as she continued to stare at his incredibly green eyes. “Promise?”
Tony chuckled. “Cross my heart.”
* * *
The weather was perfect, the food was fabulous, and the company was unsurpassed. Tony and Giada laughed for hours. They rested on the blanket that Tony remembered to bring, and guessed at cloud formations. They laughed at the squirrels running from tree to tree, and Tony teased Giada with bugs. The lemonade was cold and sweet, and Tony had to admit, it was much better than any alcoholic drink he had guzzled, in the last several years.
Suddenly, Tony was aware that his life had profoundly changed. He reached up to his neck and felt the leather pouch warm against his skin. As foretold, long ago, his life had been changed for the better since meeting a beautiful woman, wise and pure of heart. He knew at that moment, she had saved him for all eternity. No longer was he in danger of losing his soul. She was an angel, and she’d been sent to save him, to pull him back from the dark abyss. He owed her his life.
CHAPTER SIX
Tony smiled as he thought back to his life in Chicago. Giada eventually married a man whose family owned hundreds of acres of virgin forest and crystal clear lakes. They built a dozen cozy cabins, and rented them out each year, to serious sportsmen. Her mama and papa happily left Chicago, and opened a small Italian café on the same road as Giada’s resort. People traveled for miles to partake of the delicious items found on the menu.
Oddly enough, it was a young man, by the name of Capone, who had made it all possible. Early, one morning, Giada’s papa was unloading a vegetable truck parked in front of their old restaurant, when he saw a car, with guns aimed out the windows, careening toward him. He noticed the heavyset man standing alone, on the sidewalk, gazing into his café. He yelled to get down and knocked the man to the pavement, just as the bullets sprayed the window, saving the man’s life.
Al Capone was grateful. He offered to set Giada’s papa and his family up in a more peaceful part of the city, or even in another city, if they preferred. It was Mr. Capone that bought the little café, at the side of the highway, leading to Giada’s woods.
Tony chuckled as he thought of “Little Tony”. Ten years after he’d last seen Giada, he learned that she and her husband, after having four girls, finally had a son. They named him Anthony, but called him “Little Tony”. It was reported that the child was stubborn and willful, but a pushover for a pretty face. Undoubtedly, he would break many hearts, it was said.
Giada had a good life and it pleased Tony, immensely. She was his angel and he thought of her often. He could picture her pretty face as if it were only yesterday, when they parted.
Speaking of pretty faces, Tony missed Sophie.
* * *
“Stop it!” Sophie shouted, as she slammed her fist into her wet pillow. She sat up in bed, and furiously wiped the tears from her eyes. “He’s not worth it. He is no gentleman, no matter what he thinks. Tony’s mean, and…and…old…and crabby. He doesn’t even kiss that well,” she blubbered. The tears refilled her beautiful turquoise eyes. “Oh, yes, he does,” she wailed, and threw herself prostrate, across the bed.
Dinnertime came and went unnoticed, and still Sophie sobbed at the mere thought of Mr. Anthony Barton. What had she done to make him dislike her so, she wondered? What did I say? She asked herself. Sophie had always been popular among her peers, and therefore, she simply didn’t understand someone disliking her for no obvious reason.
She got off the bed and stumbled over to her full-length mirror. For the longest time, she stared at the image reflected in the glass, transfixed by what she saw. A tall, slender woman stood looking back at her. She had a very young face, but men thought it was endearing. Her eyes and light blonde curls were very nice. She never had to worry about injecting her lips with some substance to plump them out, as they were naturally full and well formed... kissable, her friend had said. A pair of dimples graced her soft cheeks, and her teeth had always been snow white and perfectly aligned. Her granny had been fond of saying that the angels had smiled down on her when she was born, and gave her the gift of great beauty. If that were true, why couldn’t Tony see it?
Sophie padded barefoot over to the window and looked down from her apartment to the green courtyard below. She was a happy person…most of the time. That is, she was happy when she didn’t dwell on the loss of her loved ones. She was all alone now. Through illness, accidents, and the passage of time, she’d lost everyone she had ever loved, and now there was no one left to love her. Only in the memories, tucked safely within her heart, could she find the solace she so desperately craved.
But Sophie was no fool. She wouldn’t waste her love on just anyone. No, she wouldn’t. The man she chose to spend the rest of her life with had to be kind and noble. He had to show great love and compassion for others. Her ideal man would have to be dependable, brave, and forthright. It was important that he be smart, too, for Sophie realized she wasn’t too gifted, in that department. Most of all, her perfect mate would have to be honest with her, in all things. Deceit would not be tolerated. Then, Sophie smiled. It wouldn’t hurt if he was hot and incredibly good-looking, she thought.
“Sounds like a freakin’ knight,” Sophie smirked.
As the sky began to darken, Sophie looked up and searched the heavens. Locating the first star of night, she repeated the age-old saying of young women, everywhere. She closed her eyes and wished for such a man. “A man to love me...forever.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tony unfastened his seatbelt, and longed for the days when you could light up your cigarette, as soon as the No Smoking light went off. Flying was definitely more fun, back in the day. Flight attendants were all beautiful, sexy women, and single. They spoiled their male, first-class passengers, while in flight, and sometimes spoiled them later, just for fun. “Yeah, those were definitely the days,” Tony grumbled.
“Excuse me, sir, but did you say something?” the middle-aged, male flight attendant asked.
Tony burst out laughing. “No, but thank you. Everything’s just peachy,” he quipped.
The flight attendant didn’t know how to respond to the strange man, sitting in seat 12D, but being the professional he was trained to be, he remained polite and offered him a drink.
“Thank you...Todd. I’ll take a seven-seven, no ice.”
“Right away, sir.” Todd smiled, as he confidently walked away, knowing, once again, he had placated a potentially difficult passenger. He was well pleased with himself.
Tony watched the other passengers seated around him. A littl
e girl with bouncing yellow curls, was coloring, to pass the hours. Every once in a while, she stole a look at Tony and giggled. Two charming dimples bracketed her smile.
A young girl, wearing a UCLA sweatshirt, walked past Tony as she searched for the restroom. She was tall, slender, and had soft curves in all the right places. Upon returning, she looked at Tony with bright, turquoise eyes.
“That’s it!” he snapped. “I need to get off this plane.”
“Sir? Is there a problem?” Todd was quick to respond. “I have your drink.”
Tony was shocked at how fast the flight attendant had appeared at his seat. “Do you keep such a close eye on all the passengers, or are you just watching me?” Tony accused. He didn’t mean to sound paranoid, but it seemed as if he’d fallen under FAA scrutiny.
Todd looked slightly uncomfortable. “You seem to be agitated, sir. I just want to do my job and see that you arrive at your destination, with no undo problems. Are you feeling well, sir? Perhaps you need a doctor?” The man seemed to be sincerely concerned.
“No, Todd. I am definitely, not okay. I am the dumbest bastard on the planet. You have no idea what I’ve done.” Tony didn’t notice his voice had risen in volume, and was on the verge of shouting.
Todd’s eyes grew large with alarm. Nowadays, everyone was suspect. Very softly, so as not to frighten the other passengers, he asked, “What have you done, sir?” He swallowed; his enormous Adam’s apple danced up and down, beneath his collar.
Tony put his head in his hands and stared down at his lap. “It’s too late, now. Dammit, it’s just too late.”
The flight attendant’s face went ashen. Todd took a step back. There was no guessing what horrific scenario would be played out that morning. His breakfast threatened to come up and choke him. He stiffened his back, took a deep breath and forced his knees to stop their quaking. This was what he had been trained for, and he prayed he didn’t fail the passengers entrusted to his care.
