Love Finds Its Pocket

by Mary Scarpelli

  “Energy would then be reallocated toward the improvement of our environment rather than being single-mindedly focused on trying to fill-in ones deficiencies with ultimately empty gestures, blindly ushering in the ruination of oneself and society, while ignoring the aggregate negative impact which precludes mankind from making the world a better place in which to live so that we can stop treading water and reach for the next rung in that evolutionary psychological ladder.” Dr. Evans stopped speaking when she realized that she’d been on a rant – lest she cast blame at Kat for being the basis of her inspiration to cull out the problems of the world, she thought it best to simply stop talking.

  Kat tended to bring out in her a fluidity of thought that few others did. On several occasions she came close to asking Kat to find a different therapist so they could pursue a non-professional friendship but worried that they’d already gone too far in the analytical arena, precluding a smooth transition into a peer relationship. ‘Maybe one day’, she thought.

  “So then you can make the check payable to Katherine Warrington – that’s with two r’s,” Kat said while slowly shaking her head in mock disapproval.

  Both women laughed in knowing relief at the absurdity of how difficult it was to actually connect with someone with whom a deeply relevant conversation could be conducted while simultaneously balancing the perceived restrictions governing the construct of a formal relationship. From that point forward, accommodations would always be made between them to allow for skating on the perimeter of or even marginally breaching the boundary of professionally acceptable patient / doctor communications without concern that professional ethics were being blithely discarded. Transference was a non-issue so the first potential obstacle to commencing a friendship was eliminated. They both believed themselves to extend beyond the strictures imposed by the conventions of the common-thinking man so accepted the necessity of making meaningful connections in world otherwise devoid of such depth.

  The scarcity of personalities possessing self-awareness coupled with integrity and compassion was depressingly prevalent so neither woman was going to allow a best-practice ethical standard, so clearly not meant to apply to the societal outliers, to thoroughly dictate their deviation from standard behavior. However many shades of grey there were was open for a critical analysis through debate and discussion; absent that, they intended to continue appreciating every moment they shared.

  “Okay, so it’s not about her, it’s about me. I get it and I fully intend to contemplate the ramifications, but I’m still having trouble getting past the minutiae and that, I guess, speaks to whatever unresolved garbage is still floating on my dysfunctional barge. Do I really need my parents’ acceptance that badly? Am I that insecure – still? I’m disappointed to discover that my childish nonsense is still tagging along behind me. Sometimes it takes being reflected upon from someone else’s perspective to get a deeper, better look at ourselves.

  “I’ve never been particularly short-tempered, especially not with Toni but it seems as though, in the eight or so years that I’ve known her, and especially since we’ve gotten back together, she’s placed personal growth on hold; it stagnated even further, if you can believe it, after she moved in. I don’t want our relationship to become some static cliché.

  “I get the sinking feeling that she’s becoming complacent, sexually, intellectually, emotionally and those things scare me senseless because the last thing I want is a relationship in which its participants pride themselves on maintaining the status quo. I thought that we’d both continue to be works-in-progress and then also extend ourselves to the outside world in order to show, by example, how personal development can improve the lives of those around you.

  “I know she’s been overloaded at work but it’s as if all of her resources have been fully reallocated there, which has left her bereft of development in any other arena. Neither one of us is in a position to take a break from personal growth, but her more so because she has further to go, having started at a bit of a deficit.” Kat paused as the reverberations of her recriminating words bouncing around inside of her head were beginning to sound far more critical than she actually felt.

  “You’re making sense, Katherine. You had hopes of finding in Toni the soul-mate that would ride with you in a never-ending journey of personal development but she appears to have taken a slight detour, or possibly a temporary vacation.

  “The self-actualization process can easily extend throughout the duration of one’s lifetime; some people never even realize they should be on a journey, so your collective awareness places the two of you at an advantage. Perhaps you can find it in yourself to give her a wider-than-usual berth - the benefit of the doubt so to speak, that her intermittent detour truly is just that. But you need to keep communicating with her about this.” Dr. Evans paused for a mini think-break.

  “Do you really believe that she no longer intends to resume her aspirations toward attaining a higher level of enlightenment? From everything else you’ve mentioned about her, that scenario seems unlikely. Don’t forget that she is coming from a comparatively significant socio-economic disparity that only diligent efforts can remedy. And because that means something to her, you might benefit from demonstrating more compassion for her goals.

  “My advice would be not to let her off of the hook by ignoring the static nature of her individual and your collective development and take the time to remind her that there is an end-game in sight that far exceeds the need to make six figures at the cost of succumbing to emotional immaturity for the remainder of her natural life. If she’s interested, she’ll find the right balance that will allow her – and you, to have it all.

  “Again, from everything that you’ve said, I think she wants to continue in her pursuit of enlightenment. The question is whether or not you have the patience to see it through to fruition. Only you know the answer to that.” And with that said, Dr. Evans looked up at the wall clock, shocked to see that one hour and forty-five minutes had passed.

  Kat excused herself, thanking Dr. Evans for providing much-needed clarity, and left the office in search of a cab to take her home where she intended to welcome home Toni in grand style, which in her interpretation meant naked and ready to pounce on her unsuspecting prey. Trying to keep Toni playful when her energy was being diverted toward scrubbing-away her modest upbringing by earning as many accolades, promotions and pay increases as she could accumulate, was becoming Kat’s raison-d’être. She only hoped that Toni hadn’t lost sight of what was important in life – staying focused on the only things that had any real meaning, none of which were even remotely connected to achieving professional success.

  When Toni texted Kat at six-twenty P.M. with an apology about running late, Kat was livid, beside herself that Toni had the temerity to continue placing her job at the front of the queue, even after everything they’d discussed. Toni seemed unnaturally fixated and tied to her desperate need to succeed. The sinking feeling that Kat experienced in the pit of her stomach left her woozy with fear that all might be lost and that she was about to lose the love of her life to the spiked wheel of ambition. She pulled out the menu of her favorite neighborhood sushi restaurant and ordered enough for two, quickly regretting it when the food arrived long before Toni.

  Lost in the Miasma of Overtime

  “What the fuck! Really Toni? Are you so lost in your own head that I’ve now blended into the landscape? Like a piece of fucking furniture?” Kat was screaming.

  “Furniture! What?”

  “You don’t even see me anymore. Because I’m always here, you just take for granted that I always will be. Are we a couple or not because I’m not going to live my life like this. You are stressing me out and I’m reaching the end of my patience with this nonsense. We’ve talked about it a thousand times and each time you say that you understand and then you go right the fuck ahead and do it again. So I’m asking you one last time Toni, what – the – fuck!” Kat had to stop yelling because she felt her blood pres
sure soaring; she was weak from expressing anger that she’d so neatly suppressed over the past several months.

  Toni stood very still in the foyer, mid way between taking off her coat and moving closer to Kat for a much-needed embrace. Time had indeed slipped from her conscious thoughts as the deliverable timetables being forced upon her at work could not be met without committing to an extraordinary amount of overtime. She loved her job, found great satisfaction in accomplishing her assigned tasks within the stated deadline, error-free and producing a smile from Elena that could light a room. But, Toni never meant for it to become central to her existence; she never wanted to be seen as ‘that’ person – the one who lives for her job to the exclusion of all else.

  She looked over at Kat then at the wall clock, which read 9:45, and squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as possible. Upon opening them, she was still standing in the entry foyer, arms mid-gesture, with Kat’s glaring eyes cast down upon her, boring a hole into her head while awaiting an explanation. Toni had seen this side of Kat only a few times in the past and never before had it ended well or easily.

  Toni slid her coat the rest of the way off, walked over to Kat, stood on her toes to level out their lips then gave her the most sensuous kisses she could muster. Kat tried to pull away several times, in protestation that they needed to talk first, but Toni’s insistence prevented any further speaking and as Kat began to heat up despite her initial refusal, her body betrayed her to the extent that she eventually relented and allowed Toni to apologize to her – to the tune of three unassisted and unreciprocated orgasms.

  Back on the Road to the Mangiarmi Residence

  Two lousy, partially detached fucking belt loops on a raggedy old pair of jeans were the only things separating Kat from becoming road kill. On Toni’s insistence, she agreed to take a ride on Giovanni’s motorcycle to get from the ferry terminal to the Mangiarmi household rather than attempt to navigate Staten Island’s paltry mass transit options or worse yet jump into a dubiously selected non-medallion, but very quickly came to regret her decision. She had wrong-headedly assumed that outer borough roadways would be in better condition than the overused streets of Manhattan.

  Giovanni swerved to miss each pothole and for that, Kat was grateful but his evasive maneuvers also created a weight imbalance that was difficult to compensate for on a smooth bike seat with someone who was barely taller than she and weighed possibly less. The momentum conservation principle wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about Giovanni’s impressive musculature if he lost control of his motorcycle and crashed headlong into a guard rail or worse yet, into oncoming traffic.

  “At least this smelly helmet will allow my head to remain intact. Open casket, folks!” Kat’s joke went unheard beneath the din of his rumbling, twin cam engine although she managed to creak out a light chuckle; best to exit life laughing, she reasoned. But the humorous moment was short-lived as Giovanni came within inches of sideswiping an SUV that had been hugging the left lane, which dislodged Kat’s heart, relocating it to the core of her throat where it remained for the duration of the ride.

  “We gotta get off of this fuckin’ highway. They ain’t done shit to fix these disgratziati potholes. There’s pasta fagioli waitin’ for me at home and I don’t wanna be dead before I can eat it.”

  With that perceived bit of cleverness, Giovanni snorted and veered onto the next exit ramp and gratefully for Kat, into a snarl of traffic as they headed south on Hylan Boulevard, which prevented them from driving too quickly or Giovanni from weaving his way through the jam.

  Finally, It’s Mangiarmi Time!

  “Alrighty, Katie, here we are! The Mangiarmi Mansion. Nice, right?” Giovanni beamed.

  Giovanni was clearly proud of the family house, apparently so as he certainly was in no hurry to strike out on his own. He complained that his economic limitations, borne from having dumped every penny of his savings into the construction business, precluded him from securing private accommodations that would be anywhere near as nice as his parents’ house. He was fond of reminding anyone who had the audacity to ridicule him as a mama’s boy that he spent years of hard, unpaid labor, working weekend after weekend expending his precious youth while engaging in a renovation project that required a studs-up reconstruction of the house. That he was also having the time of his life was a fact he chose to omit lest he rebut himself out of illustrating his pain and suffering. Once both of his sisters had moved out, a considerable amount of breathing space was created, which perfectly suited his privacy requirements.

  He didn’t like being alone and since there were no women with whom he was interested in settling down or even sharing an apartment, the family house would remain his home until his situation changed. Giovanni had taken over the basement after Marcella and Toni moved out – at the same time, Marcella securing an apartment with Gene in Manhattan four years after having graduated from college and Toni, directly after graduation in an apartment with her then lover, Trish.

  In yet another round of renovations and reconfigurations, Antonia and Massimo Sr. relocated to Marcella and Toni’s old bedroom, punching a hole through the wall to create an entrance for an en suite, while they moved his parents into the first floor den which they converted into a bedroom. Their old bedroom was partially converted into a guest room whereas the grandparents’ vacated room was converted into the offices of John Max Construction. The renovation project also included expanding the ground floor quarter bath into a three-piece with two entrances, alleviating Nonna and Nonno from having to navigate the stairs when they wanted to shower. Massimo Jr. was left to enjoy the entire attic level to himself, happy to no longer share the space with or fret over the bizarre design choices of his stylistically over-the-top little brother. Everyone had a floor to themselves; the guest bath was now on the second floor, shared by Antonia, Massimo and any occupants of the guestroom. All parties couldn’t have been happier about their new accommodations.

  Massimo Jr. believed he got the better end of the deal, as he considered basements to be uninhabitable irrespective of the improvements made to them but Giovanni’s opinion differed significantly as the basement boasted a full bathroom and open kitchen, housed the family pool table and had sliding glass doors that led to a ground-level walkout to the backyard, which, of course, allowed him to be discreet about the sexual nature of his relationship with each of his short-term girlfriends.

  Massimo Sr. wasn’t naive about the sexual escapades of his youngest son, joking once to his wife that he should just replace the sliding glass doors with a revolving door, but Giovanni was grateful for his privacy. He didn’t have to force complicity of his lifestyle onto his family, especially not in his father’s house, as he preferred his affairs to remain as private as possible. He knew that when he found the right girl he would formally introduce her to the family, get married and have several children but he was in no hurry to settle down and since the girls lining up for his services were seemingly without end and his curiosity about what each one had to offer was boundless, he forged ahead as a carefree super stud. His muscular body, genuine manner and classic good looks made certain that he could continue on living in his bacchanalia as long as he wished.

  Having been allocated that private space allowed him to maintain a sense of individuality and a personal life that he wouldn’t otherwise have had. He enjoyed the company of his family, whom he loved dearly, so was in no hurry to strike out on his own; that they all got along famously and were so generous with their amazingly talented cooking skills was simply icing. He seemed oblivious to the retardation of his emotional maturation, either insufficiently sophisticated to comprehend the ramifications of remaining a dependent adult son well after his expiration date, or too complacent with the status quo to care.

  The latter thought occurred to Kat, giving her pause that perhaps there was a familial quality to Toni’s current lack of apparent motivation to slide out from under the mediocrity that threatened to swallow her whole. She shuddered with the implications an
d promised to share that insight with Toni as soon as she saw her, which couldn’t be soon enough.

  As they rolled into the driveway, Giovanni produced a series of engine roars that had become the signature announcement of his arrival. Kat slid off of the seat while loosening the strap of her helmet, legs still wobbly with fear. She returned it to Giovanni with a thrust to his solar plexus so forceful that it winded him; regardless, he didn’t mind as he found her to be beautiful and quite a turn on. He preferred a strong, feisty woman to one that thought submission was somehow alluring. In the span of a short ride, the smell of her hair, the snarky remarks she thought he hadn’t heard, the feel of her legs around his, her body pressed up against his back – ignoring of course the necessity of such close proximity, he had fallen madly in love.

  Toni opened the front door in time to see the helmet exchange and laughed despite knowing the nightmare that must have transpired to cause Kat to respond in such a manner. She ran over to her and placed an arm around Kat’s waist, reorienting her toward the front door. Kat turned Toni to face her and planted a deep, passionate kiss on her long overdue lips; as of late, their nights spent apart left her feeling unsettled. Toni had decided to spend the night at her parents’ house so she could assist in the dinner preparations. There was bread starter to combine, sauce to make, antipasto to prepare, an entire house to clean. Toni wanted everything to be perfect for her lover’s introduction to the family.