At 10:00 p.m. Inacio took his wife by the hand and led her into the kitchen. The couple said their goodbyes to a beaming Uncle Pio and a tearful Angelina before sneaking out the back door.
They arrived at the Parker House Hotel in Boston less than forty-five minutes after leaving Gloucester. They would spend their wedding night there, and then head out the next morning for a week at Niagara Falls. When Inacio gave his name at the front desk, he felt certain the clerk was looking down his nose at him.
"Yes, I see the reservation here," the clerk said in a nasal tone that suggested he was sorry he'd found it. "Mr. and Mrs. Raposo for one night," he said, and then let the key drop into Inacio's hand as if it were lint he had picked from his lapel.
Inacio picked up their suitcases and the couple headed for the elevator bank. An elevator door opened and two smartly dressed businessmen emerged. One of them ogled Inacio's wife before smirking at Inacio. What are you going to do about it? the businessman seemed to say as he passed them.
Inacio put the suitcases down and turned. His face was screwed up in jealous anger, and his fists were clenched. He started after the man but stopped when he felt his wife's gloved hand take his arm. Inacio turned to look at her. She smiled and shook her head. Inacio gave a slight nod to her, unclenched his fists, and picked up the suitcases.
§
It was her first ride in an elevator, and she clung tightly to her husband's arm. When they reached the hotel room, Inacio used one suitcase as a doorstop. She felt herself being hoisted into the air, and then her husband carried her across the threshold, kissed her passionately, and lowered her onto the bed.
While Inacio was busy collecting the suitcases, she slipped into the bathroom and locked the door. She turned on the faucet, stared at herself in the mirror, and wept. I want my mamãe. I want my papai. I want Mateus. I want to go home.
She imagined her father coming for her, breaking down the hotel room door. Her papai would scoop her up in his arms, like he used to do when she was a child, and carry her back to their home in Horta.
Then she pictured Mateus. She wanted Mateus to have the same passionate jealousy in his eyes that she had seen in Inacio's in the hotel lobby. She wanted him to storm in and knock Inacio out cold. Then Mateus would take her by the hand and spirit her away to Rio de Janeiro, where they would live the lives they had dreamed of—he as an artist and she, a dancer. And, together with their beautiful baby, they would live happily ever after.
A muffled sound startled her. Inacio was knocking on the bathroom door. How long have I been in here?
She wiped her tears away and cracked open the door. Inacio looked worried. "Are you all right?"
No, I want to go home. "Yes," she said, "I am sorry."
"You've been crying."
"Tears of joy," she said.
He held up her suitcase. "I thought you might want this."
She opened the door wider and gave a half-smile and a nod. "Thank you."
She closed the door gently, and cringed at what she knew was to come.
Chapter 9
September 14, 1957
THE NEW BRIDE TREMBLED as she made her way from the bathroom to the bedside. The nightgown her mother had made for the wedding night was stiff and a little scratchy. Inacio had turned down the bed. He stood looking out the window and was smoking a Pall Mall cigarette. He turned to face her, but she avoided eye-contact.
"You look very beautiful," he said.
"Thank you."
"I'm going to take a bath. I'll just be a little while."
She nodded.
When he disappeared into the bathroom, she began to pace. She sat on the bed for a moment, and then stood up and paced some more. She repeated this process several times until she heard the bathtub drain gurgling. She jumped into bed, pulled the covers up high, and stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. Her papai was not coming to save her. Mateus was not coming either. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. I will think of this as something like a vaccination, painful but necessary.
The bathroom door opened. Her eyes grew wide again. She popped up, turned off the bedside lamp, and lay back down in the dark.
Inacio started across the darkened room and stubbed his toe. "Shit." he said, hopping on one foot. He quickly added, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to curse in front of you."
He stood by the window again, and she knew from his silhouette that he was naked. He was larger than Mateus, and she wondered if it would hurt more than it had her first time. Oh, Mateus.
Inacio approached the bed.
And now he is getting in beside me.
She tensed. She made fists and crossed her wrists over her chest, like a corpse. And then she felt his warm body pressed against hers, and she realized she was shivering.
"Darling," he whispered, "I know this is your first time and you're nervous. But I'm going to be very gentle with you. And if it hurts you, just tell me, and I'll stop. I don't ever want to hurt you."
He kissed her lips tenderly for a long time. The warmth of his body and the gentleness of his whispered words eased her tension. And after a while she began to respond with soft kisses of her own. He removed his hand from her shoulder and traced the outline of her figure until he reached the bottom of her nightgown. She felt the roughness of his fingers as they probed beneath her nightdress and traveled the length of her body, from calf to outer thigh and hip, to the curve of her waist, her ribs, and on to her breast. He rolled her nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger for a time before easing her nightgown up and over her head and tossing it to the floor.
Inacio gently parted her legs and knelt between her thighs. She closed her eyes and tensed her body in anticipation of the pain to come. But he did not enter her. He leaned down and took her left nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue. She felt his hardness hot against her thigh. Before long his mouth was moving down her body, exploring and planting wet kisses until he reached... My God, what is he doing? He's kissing me down there.
She had never heard of this. She and her girlfriends had talked about sex, but no one had ever described anything like this. She closed her eyes even tighter and turned her head, burying it in the pillow. She remembered herself as a young girl in the bathtub. Her mother had told her it was "dirty" down there, that she was always to wash quickly. To touch herself in that place would be sinful.
But it's not me, it's him. It's him... What are you doing to me? It feels...think about something else. But the something else was Mateus lying naked atop the boulder at their Secret Place, stroking himself as she watched from above.
Inacio continued to kiss and lick. She felt a strange pressure build up inside her, and it was frightening and pleasurable at the same time. She could still see Mateus stroking himself, faster now, and she began to move with him. She longed for Mateus to be inside her, to fill her.
Inacio's tongue moved faster. Mateus pumped wildly...he was close now, so close. She felt tingling and warmth throughout her body as she moved herself up and down, up and down until...
Mateus's seed shot out in a great arc. And then there were no more illusions. Just waves of pleasure. She had gone someplace else, someplace outside of herself, someplace devoid even of thought.
When she came back, she realized that she still tingled everywhere, that she was pulsing down there.
And that Inacio was deep inside her.
Chapter 10
May 2, 1958
ANGELINA AND PIO SAT calmly while Inacio paced the perimeter of the waiting room at Cape Ann Women's Hospital.
"Mr. Raposo." the doctor called out as he entered the room. He extended his hand to Inacio. "Congratulations. You have a healthy baby girl. You can go in now."
"And my wife?" Inacio asked.
"She's doing just fine. Follow me."
As the doctor led Inacio, Angelina, and Pio down the hallway, he asked, "Have you chosen a name yet?"
"Well, I was hoping for a boy, of course, but we decided on Renata Angelina, f
or a girl," Inacio answered. [He pronounced it Ray-nah-tah]
Renata Angelina Raposo was wrapped tightly and lie sleeping in her mother's arms. Inacio beamed as he kissed his wife's lips and then the baby's tiny forehead.
"Oh, I almost forgot," said Inacio. He fumbled through his jacket pockets, and pulled out two cigars. He gave one to the doctor, and one to Uncle Pio.
Angelina regarded the new mother with suspicion. She turned to the doctor. "This child does not look so small for having come before its time."
"Hmm?" the doctor looked at Angelina and then turned his attention to the pleading eyes of the new mother.
"Oh," the doctor said, "well, it's not unusual for this size in a premature delivery."
"Is that so?" Angelina asked in a tone that suggested that her real question was What kind of fool do you take me for?
"Absolutely, I've seen bigger. I could tell you some stories..."
Uncle Pio broke in. "Parabéns Avó." Congratulations, Grandma. Pio threw his arms around his sister.
Angelina tried to break the embrace. "Doctor..."
But Pio held her fast and talked over her. "Doctor, thank you for bringing this beautiful, healthy baby into the world. We know you're a busy man, so we'll let you get back to your other patients now."
Pio turned to his sister. "And we have a baptism and celebration to plan. Come along, Angelina. Let's let this young family have some time alone. I'll take you home so you can start cooking."
§
Angelina whispered angrily to Pio as he led her from the room. "That baby is no more premature than..."
Pio fixed Angelina with a grave expression and whispered back. "Be careful, sister. You have no proof of what you imply. I remember you, yourself, sending me to the store for feminine napkins, and I don't think they were for you..." Angelina looked back over her shoulder. A nurse had taken the baby from its mother and was handing it to Inacio. Angelina Raposo glared at her daughter-in-law.
"Don't look at her, Angelina," Pio said, "look at him."
Angelina's focused her eyes on Inacio. He cradled tiny Renata Angelina in his arms and was cooing at the baby through a broad smile. The old woman's expression softened.
"Isn't that the important thing?" asked Pio. "See how proud and happy he his. And that's what you want, isn't it? Remember how angry was the boy who lost his father and brothers at twelve years old, and was doing a man's work at fourteen? I tell you: This girl is good for him. Let it be, sister."
§
The young mother watched as her husband held the baby. Silently, she thanked God for giving her a second chance. She vowed to Him that she would always be a loving wife and mother. And she thanked Him for Uncle Pio.
The young family would have to spend a few more tense weeks at the home of Angelina Raposo. But then they would move to their new home. Inacio's savings, together with the wedding gifts they'd received, had been enough for a down-payment on a tiny cottage on Rose Hip Point, a mile-long peninsula that poked out from the village of Hollistown Harbor into the sea like a bony, accusatory finger.
Chapter 11
January 14, 1959
INACIO STOOD IN DARKNESS and peered through the window at the woman inside with the pixie haircut. He could hear the music she danced to as she made her way about the kitchen and gathered ingredients for the evening meal. Then she stopped dancing and stared straight at him, and his heart stopped. But then she started to dance again, and he realized she hadn't seen him. She had seen only her own reflection in the window pane. He was invisible to her. He felt a tingling move from his spine to the back of his neck and ears.
Inacio leered at her body. As she swayed between the refrigerator and stove, spice rack and stove, sink and stove, her ass jiggled. She'd never have that kind of shake if she wore a girdle. Inacio hated girdles.
She walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. Inacio knew it would be only moments before she returned. He scurried to the kitchen door, turned the doorknob ever-so-quietly, and slipped inside. She was coming back. He could hear her humming along with the record playing in the living room. He quickly knelt behind the table and chairs in the dining area and prayed that she wouldn't see him.
She was in the kitchen now. He could hear the click of her shoes on the linoleum. Her footsteps caused tiny vibrations in the floor that he felt through his knees, and he tingled again.
Her humming became less audible, and the sizzling sound from the stove became irregular. She must be facing the stove.
He rose up without a sound as she continued to hum, dancing in place.
But she wasn't alone: She balanced a smiling baby on her left hip while she poked at the contents of the cast iron skillet with a wooden spatula.
Inacio stole up behind her and spoke in a menacing rasp. "Você tem uma bunda bonita, Senhora." You have a pretty ass, lady.
The woman shrieked. She dropped the spatula and clutched the baby with both arms. Sensing its mother's distress, the baby's smile dissolved into a look of alarm. The woman spun around, wide-eyed with fear. Her expression changed when she saw her handsome husband beaming manically at her, his teeth gleaming and the dark tendrils of his hair bouncing with his laughter.
"Inacio, you are insane. You scared me almost to death".
"I'm sorry," he continued in Portuguese, putting his arms around his wife and daughter. "I'll never do it again."
"That is what you said the last time."
"This time I mean it," he kissed his wife tenderly. "It's your own fault, though. You do have such a pretty ass."
"Shh, don't talk that way in front of the baby."
The Portuguese fisherman took the infant girl from her mother. His voice became higher-pitched and tender. "You don't know what your papai is saying, do you, meu coração?" he cooed.
"You know only that I love you and that you are a beautiful princesa. Yes, you are."
"And she knows that she will have her papai around her little finger, and that he will spoil her," Mamãe smiled.
"Don't listen to your mamãe, my love. She is just jealous because you have surpassed her as the most beautiful woman in the world.
"You are Renata Raposo, RR. The most beautiful women in the world have initials that are the same, Marilyn Monroe, Brigitte Bardot, and now, Renata Raposo."
"You are right about that, my darling. She is the most beautiful child, no?" Mamãe said.
"She is the most beautiful child, yes. And do you know why? It's because she has the magic of Raposo blood flowing through her veins."
Mamãe blushed and turned to face the stove.
"But tell me, my love," her husband said to her back, "It's not so bad to be the second most beautiful in the world, is it?"
"No, not if our daughter is the first," Mamãe called over her shoulder.
Inacio sniffed the air, the aroma of fresh fish simmering in olive oil with garlic, onions, tomatoes, and wine. "What is that heavenly smell, my little Renie-bird? [he pronounced it "Rainy-bird"] Your mamãe is cooking something wonderful for me. A bacalhãu fresco, I think, if my nose does not betray me."
Mamãe smiled. "Yes, and I want you to eat all of it. You are still too skinny, Inacio. You can't get completely well if you don't eat more."
Inacio came up behind her and kissed her neck. "Can I help it if I have more of an appetite for you than for food?" His gaze moved to the frying pan. "The fish looks wonderful. How can such a beautiful woman also be such an incredible cook? What is your secret?"
"Well, I get the freshest cod because my handsome husband is the best fisherman in all of Cape Ann."
"Only Cape Ann?" he asked with mock sadness.
"I meant in all of Massachusetts."
Inacio again feigned dejection.
"I meant in all the world," she said.
"Your husband is a lucky man to have a wife who is such a good cook, and has such a pretty ass."
"Inacio..."
"What?" he laughed, "I'll stop saying it before she's old enough to u
nderstand."
"I don't want you to ever stop saying it. I just don't want you to say it in front of our daughter."
"Ahh, did you hear that, minha menina (my little girl)? Do you know what that means? It means you'll be going to bed early tonight so that your papai can say a lot of things to your mamãe that you're not allowed to hear."
Inacio held the baby girl high above his head, brought her face down to meet his, and then rubbed noses with her. She laughed with delight, so Inacio did it again and again.
"You are all right for now, Renata Angelina," he said with a loving tease, "but next your mamãe must give me a boy."
After dinner, while his wife did the dishes and tidied the kitchen, Inacio bathed the little girl. He powdered her, and then diapered her and dressed her in a soft, pale-pink sleeper sack. As Inacio bent over and lowered his smiling daughter into her crib, his wife approached from behind, put her hand on his broad back, and rubbed it lovingly.
"You are a wonderful papai," Mamãe said.
"Look at her—" Inacio beamed "—and tell me: How could I not be?"
Chapter 12
July 19, 1962
THE SANDS OF GOOD Harbor Beach, Gloucester, glowed in the fiery afternoon sun like a bed of hot coals. Barefoot bathers tended to prance rather than walk to minimize the scorching of their soles.
Little Renata made a game of hopping from foot to foot. "Ouch...ouch... ouch...ouch..." she cried in rhythm. "Mamãe, olhe para mim. Ouch...ouch ...ouch...ouch..."
Mamãe looked up from her book and answered in Portuguese. "I see you, meu coração, it's like you are dancing."
"No, Mamãe, I'm hopping."
"Well, hopping is a kind of dancing."
"Olhe para mim, Papai. Ouch...ouch... ouch...ouch. Papai, olhe para mim."
"English, Renata, speak English."
"Look at me, Daddy."
"Yes, I see you, my Renie-bird. But, if it hurts you, why not come on the blanket, under the umbrella?"
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