Where Does My Heart Belong?

by Libby Kingsley

  I get involved with her charity work but I'm not too crazy about that. I enjoy her close friends but there are other snooty ones that I don't like. A couple of her friends set me up on blind dates. One of them turns out to be a real disaster. This guy named Bill takes me out to a really nice restaurant and seems decent enough but at the end of the meal he tells me he doesn’t have enough money for the tip, will I get it? I do, but it pisses me off. Then while we’re outside waiting for a cab, he says he’d like me to come back to his place for a nightcap and starts telling me all about his sex toy collection. This really burns me up, so I haul off and punch him in the stomach. When the taxi pulls up, he’s heaving his guts out on the sidewalk. I jump in the taxi and leave him there still puking. I hate these lousy men. They all think that women will whore for dinner and a couple of drinks. I’ve had it with the lot of them. No more, if I have to spend my life as a spinster, so be it. Besides, I know I’ll never love any man as much as I did Red.

  After I get home, I tell Grandma all about it and she is horrified. Disgusted at Bill, and ashamed of my behavior.

  “Tell your friends I don’t want any more dates. I’ve had it with men. If I decide I want one I’ll hunt him down myself,” I tell her.

  Twice a week we volunteer at San Francisco’s large food bank. This charity is my favorite. Most of the time we help package up the food and get it ready to be distributed, but one day the manager asks me if I will go out back to the loading dock and wait for a produce truck that’s due to come in. “Call me on the intercom when he gets here and I’ll send some guys out to unload it.” “Sure,” I tell him, and I head out back. About 10 minutes later, I see a “Vera-Good Farms” truck pulling into the yard. The driver pulls up to the loading dock and then jumps down and comes over to me.

  “Hi, I’ve got some fruits and vegetables for you here.”

  “Great, I’ll call and tell them you’re here.”

  “I’m Tony Vera, with Vera-Good Farms,” he tips his straw cowboy hat off his head and reaches out to shake my hand. Oh, my goodness, a gentleman, I haven’t seen this in a long time.

  “I’m Libby Kingsley, I volunteer here,” I tell him as I shake his hand.

  “Are you any relation to Jessie Kingsley?”

  “I’m her granddaughter.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. Jessie is one of my favorite people. Our families have known each other for a long time.”

  “Where do you get fruits and vegetables this time of year?” I ask him.

  “They’ve been in our cold storage since harvest.”

  “Oh.”

  While we’re waiting for the men to come unload the truck, I take a good look at him. He looks Latino, probably around 30, about 5’10” with a good build, coal black hair, brown eyes, and a killer smile. He’s drop-dead sexy. One of the best-looking men I have ever seen. Then I hear a little voice say, “Quiero conocerla también.” I look up at the truck and there’s a little girl in the window waving at me. “¿Cual es su nombre?” she calls out.

  “Mi nombre es Libby,” I tell her. “Is that your daughter, what a beautiful little girl?”

  “Yes, that’s Angelita; she’s four, and the love of my life.”

  “What a heartbreaker.”

  “Yeah, I know, I’m planning on keeping her locked up until she’s 30,” he laughs.

  He goes and brings her down from the truck. She’s a tiny little thing with long wavy dark brown hair and startling blue eyes. She reaches out to shake my hand with a big smile on her face.

  “Angie doesn’t speak English. I want her to be bi-lingual so we speak only Spanish at home. She’ll pick up English soon enough once she goes to school.”

  By this time, the men are here to unload the truck and Tony wants to go inside to see Grandma. When Angelita sees her she runs to her screaming, “Abuela, Abuela, te quiero Abuela.”

  Grandma reaches down, cuddles, and kisses her, saying, “I love you too, Angie.”

  “Well, I see you’ve met Tony and Angelita,” Grandma says to me. “I have known his family for many years. They are some of my most cherished friends. I just wish I could talk with this beautiful child, when in the world are you going to let her learn English, Tony?”

  “Soon enough, Jessie, but love is the universal language, and you and Angie don’t seem to have any trouble there.”

  “I guess that’s true but I sure would like to communicate with her in English. Tony, would you and Angie like to have lunch with Libby and me. We’re going to the park, across the street. Meg has packed us enough food for an army.”

  “Sure, Jessie, but first let me make sure the truck is unloaded and moved away from the loading dock.”

  Grandma, Angie, and I take Meg’s lunch and go across the street to the park.

  “So what do you think of him?” she asks me.

  “He sure is one good looking hottie,” I tell her. “His wife is a lucky woman.”

  “He’s not married. I’ll fill you in when we get home. Fancy him, do you?”

  “No. I’ve had enough men disasters to last me a lifetime; I’m not interested in having any more.”

  When Tony joins us, we eat our lunches under a big old tree. He offers to share his potato chips with me and I give him two of the oatmeal raisin cookies that Meg baked. He's a wonderful conversationalist and divides his attention between the three of us, never leaving any of us feel left out. When it's time to go back to work, he reaches out, takes my hand, and kisses it. "I'm glad I got to meet you, Libby, I hope I’ll get to see you again." Angie hugs Grandma and me and then they're back in the truck headed to their next destination. What a wonderful, nice man, I think to myself. It’s too bad I’m soured on men, because contrary to what I told Grandma, this is one guy I’d really like to get to know better.

  CHAPTER 17

  March 1972

  Later that evening Grandma tells me about Tony. He’s 32 and from Cuba. He came to the U.S. when he was ten years old. The youngest of five children, he has three older brothers and one sister. The family is wealthy. They are commercial growers of thousands of acres of fruits, vegetables, and wine grapes. Tony and his father manage the business end of things and his three brothers manage the crops. They employ hundreds of people during the growing season.

  “Angelita is not Tony’s biological daughter. He had a relationship with her mother and got her pregnant, or so he thought. Being the decent man that he is, Tony stuck by her. Gave her a place to live and told her that he would take care of her and the baby. She wanted him to marry her, but he said no. When the baby was about 6 months old, Tony was convinced that she couldn’t be his. She had fair skin and blue eyes. Angie’s mother was Mexicana, with dark skin and brown eyes, as Tony has. Tony confronted her about who the real father was but the she insisted that he was her father. One day Angie got hurt, and they typed her blood in case she needed some. Her blood type is B negative, a rare type. Tony is O positive and her mother was A positive. There’s no way that combination can produce a B negative child. When Tony learned this, he was determined to get out of the relationship with her mother but he wanted to keep custody of Angie. Even though his name was on her birth certificate, the lawyers told him that it probably wouldn’t happen. Courts usually award custody to the mother. Then fate took it out of everybody’s hands when Angie’s mother was killed in a car accident. So, there you have it.”

  “Oh, my goodness, that poor little thing will never know who her real parents are.”

  “That’s true, but Tony is a wonderful father and Angie has Tony’s family who dote on her.”

  A couple of days later I’m lying on my bed reading a good book when Grandma calls down and says there is someone here to see me. What the heck, I don’t know anybody who would come to see me but I make my way upstairs to see who it is. I can hear her and a man laughing uproariously. It’s Tony.

  “My goodness, what’s all this mirth and merriment?” I ask.

  “Tony has invited both of us to take a tour
of his family’s farms, and have dinner with his parents. What do you think, would you like to go?”

  “That sounds great. I’d love to go. Thank you, Tony. But what’s so funny about that.”

  “Nothing, your Grandma was just telling me a funny story,” he says. “How does Friday sound? Plan to stay overnight. I’ll send a car for you.”

  “Oh, no, I want to drive. My new car is 2 years old and only has like 2,000 miles on it because I never have any place to go.”

  “Okay, I’ll write down the directions for you.”

  ”Libby, take Tony downstairs and show him our wine cellar and get his opinion of it and the wines.”

  So I take him down and show him the cellar.

  “Wow, this cellar is really great, Libby, and you’ve got a fine selection here too, seeing that most of them come from our winery,” he teases. “Which is your favorite?”

  “I’m not a wine drinker; I think it tastes like vinegar. There was only one time that I had some and thought it was decent. It cost $20.00 a bottle at this restaurant where I had dinner. I think it was called Merlot.”

  “Merlot is great. I’ll be sure and have some open for you on Friday. Do you know which winery made it?”

  “No, it was in Spokane, Washington, probably something local.”

  “A good Merlot with a steak, it doesn’t get much better than that.” Then he bursts out laughing.

  “What in the world is so funny around here today?”

  “Did you have to pay the tip that time too?” He’s laughing uncontrollably.

  “What’s that old woman up there been telling you? God, nothing’s private anymore. Come on, get on out of here before you sour the wine,” and I push him out of the wine cellar into the bedroom that adjoins it. Still laughing, he throws himself face down on the bed and pounds the mattress with his fist. I can’t believe I’m watching a grown man act this way.

  Hearing his raucous laughter, Grandma yells down at us from the top of the stairs. “What’s going on down there? You’d better not be into that wine. Tony has a long drive ahead of him.” I hear her coming down the stairs.

  “Wine, my ass, I’m headed for the hard stuff.”

  “Libby, your language!” She looks over at Tony who is still in hysterics on the bed. “What’s the matter with him?”

  “Nothing that a frontal lobotomy wouldn’t fix. He’s nutso. You should be more careful who you let in the front door. This is all your doing. You just had to tell him about Bill, didn’t you?”

  Tony gets off the bed and is trying to get himself under control but my words have set him off again. “I’m sorry, ladies, but I would have given anything to see that. I can’t believe that a little thing like Libby punched out Bill Fitzgerald. If his other dates hear about it, you’ll be a hero. I just keep imagining the whole thing in my mind.”

  “Keep it up, keep on yapping, I can do you too,” I tell him.

  Still laughing, he takes my arm and leads me up the stairs. “That has to be the funniest story I’ve heard in a long time.”

  “Where I come from women stand up to their men, we don’t take that kind of shit.”

  “I’ll remember that, but right now I think I’d better head for home. You ladies have a nice evening and I’ll drop by later this week with the driving directions.” Still chuckling, he heads out the door.

  Then this gorgeous, crazy, hunk of a man is gone and I’m having second thoughts about going on the trip to his farm. I keep telling myself that I don’t want anything more to do with men, but when I’m around him all those thoughts go out the window. On one hand, I’d like to get to know him better but on the other, I think I should stick with my resolve to have nothing more to do with men. If I let down my guard, will he be the next man who will break my heart?

  CHAPTER 18

  On Friday, Grandma and I go to Tony’s in Marin County. The drive takes about 45 minutes and I’m so glad to be going somewhere. I’ve been getting so bored and restless lately. When we get there he introduces me to his parents, José and Isabel, and then takes us to a beautiful little 2-bedroom guesthouse that’s situated behind their main house. “Take a few minutes to get settled while I get the car,” he tells us.

  When he comes back, he’s driving a beautiful white Cadillac sedan with Angie in the back seat. I open the back door and get in with her but Grandma hollers at me to get up front so I can ‘see things’ better and not get car sick. Baloney, she just wants me next to Tony. I tell her I’m fine where I’m at and if I get sick, I’ll let her know. Angie’s brought a baby doll along and gives it to me to hold. Then she hands me some clothes for it and I change its clothes. I listen to her chatter softly in Spanish and we spend time playing with the doll until we get to the fruit groves where we get out of the car and Tony introduces us to his brother, Manuel. After giving us a tour of the groves, he gives us a bag of oranges that have been in cold storage and then it’s off to see the vegetable fields. Grandma has jumped in the back seat this time so I’m stuck up front with Tony. “She moves quick, doesn’t she?” he whispers to me. I ignore him and stare out the side window. When we get to the vegetable fields, we meet his other brother, Ramon and after touring the fields, we go back to Ramon’s house for lunch. After lunch, we drive to the vineyards, which are quite a ways away in Sonoma County. His brother, Luis, manages the vineyards and the winery. Luis gives us a tour of the winery and gives me a bottle of Merlot, and Grandma a Chardonnay. Then it’s off to tour the fields. I am very impressed with what this immigrant family has accomplished. They left behind hardship and poverty to come here and make a better life and they’ve certainly succeeded.

  After we get back to the guest cottage, I ask Grandma how these people managed to accomplish all this.

  “They came to the U.S. in 1950 and settled in Florida. Tony was just 10 years old. José, Isabel and the three older boys found work in the citrus groves. Tony and his sister, Elena, went to school. After a couple of years, José found permanent work for all of them with a large grower. They had five paychecks coming in with very little expenses. It doesn’t take long at that rate for the money to pile up. By the time Tony graduated from high school they were millionaires. José had always wanted to go to California so they sent Tony to college out here where he got degrees in business and agriculture. He and his sister are the only ones with a formal education. Tony found the property that Manuel now manages and encouraged José to buy it. He did and they all moved out here. The rest, as they say, is history. They kept buying properties and developed them into what you see today. It just goes to show what can be accomplished when a family sticks together for a common goal.”

  “Wow that is truly impressive. What a great family. They should be an inspiration to other immigrant families who come here.”

  “They are. Occasionally, José holds free seminars and explains to other families how he became so successful. Okay, enough of this, we’d better get dressed for dinner. Tony will be here soon to take us up to the main house.”

  When we get to the main house Isabel tells us that dinner is about an hour away. That will give us time to sample some wine and for Tony to give me the grand tour. Their beautiful five-bedroom log home has almost 5000 sq. ft. The main level has oak wood flooring, a beautiful log burning stone fireplace, living room, kitchen with breakfast nook, formal dining room, vanity bath and the master bedroom. The master bedroom has a gas-burning fireplace, full bathroom and opens out to its own private balcony deck with a Jacuzzi. Upstairs there are three bedrooms, a full bathroom, and a TV loft area. The lower level has a family room, gas fireplace, dining room, wet-bar, one bedroom, a half-bath, a laundry room, and a huge wine cellar.

  When he’s done showing me the house, we go back to the living room and join the others.

  “Wow this place is spectacular; it’s even bigger than Grandma’s. I love log houses and I’ve never seen a more beautiful one. If you ever want to sell it look me up.”

  He laughs. “You’d rattle around in
here like a marble in a tin can.”

  “But it’s out in the country and it’s a log house. Exactly what I want.”

  “I hope one day you get everything that’s exactly what you want. Now, let’s go drink some wine. We’re going to have the Merlot you liked with dinner, but I want you to sample some other ones.” He offers me his arm and leads me down the stairs to the wine cellar.

  I taste several different kinds of wine and they all taste good compared to the vinegary stuff you get in the grocery store. My favorite is a Chardonnay, which Tony says, is his favorite too. Grandma has already drunk two glasses of it and is getting tipsy. We go back upstairs and the men put steaks on the grill while I help Isabel in the kitchen.

  The wonderfully simple meal of steak, baked potato, green salad, and asparagus is superb. After dinner, we sit around the fireplace and José plays his guitar for us. His soft strumming puts Grandma to sleep. “I think it’s time we head back to the guest cottage,” I tell Tony. “I can’t thank you all enough for inviting us tonight. I hope we can return the favor one day.”

  “Libby, you’re welcome to come back anytime. Come and spend a few days whenever you want to,” Isabel says. “I miss having another woman in the house now that Elena’s gone.”

  “Thank you, I’d like that. Good night then, we’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I’ll have breakfast for you whenever you get up. Sleep as long as you like.”

  I shake Grandma awake and Tony takes us back to the guest cottage. “I had a nice time tonight, Tony, thank you. Your home is beautiful and your parents are wonderful. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Buenas noches, querida. Hasta mañana.” Good night, dear. I’ll see you tomorrow.

  CHAPTER 19

  June 1972