Run Delia Run

by Cindy Bokma

  “It’s a very big deal,” he said.

  “David, I’m still the same,” I insisted, but he shook his head again and looked away. The sound of the violin concerto began which was my signal to walk down the aisle. Paris, the wedding planner, stood to the side and whispered for me to walk. She spoke into a headset and motioned for us to move.

  “Let’s talk later, okay?” David squeezed my hand and when I looked up at him, he grinned down at me and winked.

  Gazing straight in front of me, Leo was in my direct line of vision. He looked like a fancy topper on a wedding cake in his custom made tuxedo.

  How could I have ever doubted marrying him? Tears glistened like diamonds in his eyes as I walked down the makeshift aisle in the sand. He wiped the tears away and the crowd made a collective “awwww” sound.

  Waves lapped at the sand, birds overhead squawked. The fading sun was low and painted the sky pastel colors. I repeated the words the minister told me to say, the entire time, gazing into Leo’s blue gray eyes. In Leo Kubias was my present and my future. He was giving me stability and love. So why did my insides feel like hot lava as the minister proclaimed us husband and wife?

  When the brief ceremony was over, flashbulbs went off in my eyes and a microphone was thrust into my face. Leo invited a popular magazine to cover the event, something I didn’t find out until we were announced as Mr. and Mrs. Leo Kubias.

  “Tell us, how it feels to be Mrs. Kubias?” a perky blonde reporter asked me.

  “It’s wonderful.” Leo laughed, putting his arms around me. He answered all her questions in his charismatic way as the reporter and her crew caught me looking like a deer in headlights, speechless and frozen. Helicopters swarmed overhead. Was this for our wedding or had there been a crime? I touched my hand to my throat where my pulse beat wildly.

  “What are the reporters doing here?” I posed the question to Leo as calmly as I could although inside, I was furious. After a flurry of photos were taken, we strolled inside. I tried to disguise my anger. This was supposed to be my special day, but there was a reporter with a microphone in my face, a camera crew and yards of video equipment not to mention photographers.

  “Oh come on, Delia.” Leo placed his arm around me and tightened his grip, nails digging into my upper arm. “Publicity is good, especially with my new movie coming out in a few months. Tom! How are you?” He left my side to saddle up to an actor and I watched him grin and shake hands leaving me to stand alone. He was caught up in the moment, that’s what was happening. I shouldn’t be mad at him.

  Claire sashayed over to me in the gown Leo had chosen—a black, empire waist, silk gown—with a pearl choker around her neck. “Impressive.” She glanced over the room, fixating on a young actor standing by the open bar. I knew him from one of Leo’s latest independent films, and I met him in Sundance over the winter.

  “I appreciate you being here, Claire.” I turned to her. “I don’t have many friends; it means a lot that you were in the wedding.”

  “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. And be sure to thank Leo for the dress and the plane ticket and hotel room. If you don’t mind, I’m going to introduce myself to the man I’ll be spending the night with.” Giving me a wink, she patted my arm and walked toward the actor at the bar.

  After an elaborate seafood dinner, the cake was brought out. Leo knew I liked chocolate, yet he chose a highly structured four-tier coconut layer with vanilla mousse filling. Pure white coconut curls and edible silver balls festooned the cake. He was so in charge of every detail I felt like an embellishment at my own ceremony. Between Leo and Paris the wedding planner, the only decision I made was which underwear to put on under my dress. I was impressed at what he arranged, grateful how he spared no expense, yet a piece of me was upset that it lacked my own touch.

  The day was over like a candle blown out quickly and all that was left was a wisp of air that silently and slowly evaporated.

  The honeymoon was a disaster. Instead of feeling full of love and ecstasy, I was nervous, worried I made a mistake by marrying a man like Leo. I often thought after my parents died, I would never find anyone to love me. Then Leo swooped in, offering me love, comfort, and protection.

  “No one will love you like I do,” he whispered into my hair as he held me tight.

  Sometimes he told me, “You’re mine. I can’t live without you.” He’d stare with those steel blue eyes full of such intensity that my breath caught in my throat.

  There were times that his words made me feel loved; other times, I wanted to burst into tears.

  During our honeymoon, he switched gears, telling me how much he loved me and then in the next breath he’d tell me I was clumsy or stupid. I learned not to reply. Defending myself only stirred him up.

  He’d get a glint in his eye and he’d grin, rising to the challenge, reminding me of a blood thirsty trial lawyer. We’d argue until I was defeated. It was draining and left me exhausted mentally and emotionally so eventually I refused to engage. I nodded and agreed with whatever Leo said. It was easier that way.

  “Have you ever thought of getting braces?” He asked one afternoon when we were sitting in a bar, sipping Mango Daiquiris. A light breeze ruffled my hair. “The clear ones, of course.”

  “No, why?” I sipped through the straw, savoring the sweet flavor. On the white sand beach, a couple rubbed suntan lotion on each other. I dragged my eyes from them back to Leo who was staring at me, laser beam focused.

  “Because that eye tooth is really bothering me. It’s not aligned with the other ones.” Motioning to his own straight white teeth, he said, “We’ll set you up with a cosmetic dentist when we get home. You need a little Botox above the eyebrows, too; your eyes look droopy.”

  “I like my crooked tooth.” I laughed and waved my hand like I didn’t care but deep down, I couldn’t believe he was insulting my looks. “I think it gives my face character.” I said it lightly, but his need for me to be perfect all the time was wearing thin and I wanted to scream.

  He cocked his head to the side and was silent for a minute. “Delia”—he grimaced—“you need to fix that tooth or I will live the rest of my life staring at it whenever I look at you.”

  Turning away, I didn’t answer but wondered why he always needed to point out my imperfections. I bit back the words I wanted to scream, telling him I’d never be perfect. There were many times I quietly seethed in anger from his critical words. I told myself he was older, he knew better. He had more life experience and knew how to fix everything. But still, something I couldn’t name nagged at me.

  For the rest of our honeymoon, all I could think about was that pesky eyetooth. I saw my reflection in windows and in the mirror, always staring at that one tooth that annoyed Leo. It got to the point where I grew obsessive. My nerves were on edge, waiting for him to change from loving to critical. A few days passed without any bumps, we enjoyed our time together, holding hands on long beach walks, driving to an aquarium and taking pictures of exotic fish. We took surf lessons from a local and giggled like kids as we fell off our surfboards.

  I relaxed a little and that choking feeling, that sensation of hands around my neck waiting to tighten, evaporated. This was the Leo I married, the one who cheered for me when I managed to stay upright on the surfboard, who praised the photos I took, the one who slow danced with me in our room to the music from his iPhone, that was the man I married.

  Everything was perfect until one of the last nights of our honeymoon.

  The setting was a dimly lit seafood restaurant that boasted fresh lobster. “We have to get the lobster,” Leo announced, ordering for both of us.

  “I didn’t want the lobster,” I said in a low voice.

  Leo rolled his eyes. “You’ll love it.” To the waiter he nodded, “She’ll have the lobster.”

  Other people in the restaurant smiled and sipped wine, cracked their lobster and eating quietly but when I tried to get the meat out of the shell, lobster sprayed everywhere, even getting in
to my hair.

  As I picked out pieces of sea food, Leo sighed.

  “I know, I know. I’m clumsy.” I tried to brush it off but the serious look on his face sobered me immediately.

  An uncomfortable silence sat between us until I dribbled butter down the front of my plastic lobster bib.

  “Oh my God, Delia,” he blurted, loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear. He dropped his voice. “You’re eating like a pig at a trough.” He held his utensils with perfect refinement, not a drop of excess butter anywhere. A few other diners looked in our direction after Leo made a fuss. He chortled, but it wasn’t funny to me.

  I grabbed my wineglass to hide my quivering lips, blinking back tears, not of sadness, but anger. I gritted my teeth and glared at him.

  When he saw the look on my face he reached across the table and grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze. “I say it out of love. You’re so funny. My hilarious wife.”

  But I wasn’t laughing. I withdrew my hand from his grasp. That night, we went to bed without a word between us.

  At the pool, he commented on my weight. “Do you have a wrap? I think you’re beautiful, but you have about ten pounds of extra flesh on each leg.”

  “Oh my God, Leo. Would you stop? You’re embarrassing me.” I quickly wrapped a towel around myself.

  “You know I love you so much and I only want to help you. I see your potential even if others can’t.”

  He wore a casual button down top with expensive swim trunks, the shirt was open and his washboard abs were perfectly defined. There was not an inch of fat on him anywhere.

  My husband slowly removed his shirt and draped it over the chaise lounge. He watched me tighten the towel and perch nervously on the edge of the chaise. A swim in the turquoise pool sounded perfect an hour ago but now I didn’t dare expose my fat legs. Why was he even with me? I tried to ignore him and looked away.

  It was a warm day, sunny with clear bright skies. The turquoise pool was enormous, framed by lounge chairs and umbrellas. Palm trees shot into the sky and tropical plants added a punch of color. This was a five star, luxury resort with top notch service but my mind cartwheeled and flipped so much that I couldn’t fully enjoy our surroundings.

  “I’m hiring a personal trainer for you and getting more equipment for the home gym. No excuses, you’re getting in shape this time. You need to lose a few pounds for optimum health. I care about you, that’s all. Just think of how clogged your arteries are. You have to be careful.”

  He studied me from head to toe and added, “And you need a pedicure.” With that, he did a perfect swan dive into the pool, barely breaking the surface. He missed the middle finger I held up, pointed in his direction.

  Leo sold the modern house in the Hollywood Hills and purchased a five bedroom estate on a tree lined street in Beverly Hills. The oak trees reminded me of those from my childhood home in Ohio. I took it as a good omen.

  “We’ll start our family in this house.” Leo nodded, pleased with himself. “Our first home as husband and wife.”

  I agreed. I couldn’t wait to have kids. That’s what Leo needed to mellow out his moods. Children worked magic, didn’t they?

  A friendly expression took over his face yet when he looked at me directly his eyes were hard and cold. I took a step backwards.

  “I can’t wait to decorate a room for our baby...” my voice trailed off as Leo spoke, rubbing his hands together. He pointed outside.

  “It’s not too big, nor too ostentatious. There’s a pool out back, a Jacuzzi, and a workout room. I want to hire a landscaper to construct a Japanese garden outside with a koi pond, which you won’t be allowed to touch, obviously. You don’t know the first thing about koi.” He laughed.

  I ignored his words and told him, “I love the colors. I like the soft tones.” I roamed from room to room, commenting favorably on the cool, gray shades that the previous owners painted the walls. The effect was minimalist and relaxing.

  “Oh God, no.” Leo’s voice was coolly disapproving and he folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. “I’m hiring an interior designer. This gray will be gone. You have so much to learn about aesthetics! A home should have bright white walls; the focus should be on the design elements, not the paint.”

  He sighed and I found myself clenching my jaw. I lifted my chin. “I’d appreciate if you stopped disregarding my opinions.”

  My husband waved his hand. “You’ll learn.”

  “Learn what?” I asked in a tight voice. My entire body went hot and I closed my hands into a fist.

  Leo ignored me and walked away.

  When Kressley Parrish met with us to discuss the interior design of our new home, he warned him, much to my horror, “This is my wife Delia. Ignore what she tells you, she has no taste. She grew up in Ohio and Florida, if that tells you anything.” He had the nerve to chuckle.

  “I have taste, it’s just not always compatible with my husband’s style,” I said, avoiding his eyes. I felt Leo’s anger from where I stood. Glancing at him, I noted his narrowed eyes and red face.

  “Ignore her, like I said.” He laughed and clapped Kressley on the back.

  “It’s my home, too, I will definitely tell you what I like,” I crossed my arms over my chest and took a step away.

  Kressley’s gaze volleyed between my husband and me. “Not to brag my darlings, but I’m the expert here. Let’s see what we are working with.”

  I jammed my hands into the pockets of my jeans and faked a smile.

  “Anyway, welcome, welcome.” Leo grinned at Kressley, standing back so the decorator could walk into the foyer and survey the entrance. I moved out of his way and crashed to the floor with an audible THUMP. I landed on my bottom and hit my tailbone, prompting a nauseating pain to shoot up my vertebrae.

  “Oh my goodness!” Kressley put a manicured hand to his chest. “Is someone a little accident-prone here?”

  “Delia!” my husband extended his hand to help me up. “Watch your step. Didn’t you notice the cracked tile?” He motioned to the floor where a small piece of Italian tile had chipped and lifted. The tone of his voice was condescending and the grip of his hand was unnecessarily tight as he pulled me to standing. His glare was a warning and I lowered my eyes.

  I kept my head down the entire time Kressley discussed his ideas for the renovations. He took notes and agreed with every word that came out of Leo’s mouth, jotting things down on his notepad with a feather tipped pen.

  I would have loved to imitate Kressley to Randall, he’s the only person who understood my sense of humor. With a pang, I thought of my brother, who I barely spoke with during the wedding weekend. We had no time alone and each time I tried to slip away to talk to David, Leo swooped in and told me he needed me. Now talking to Kressley, he didn’t need me at all.

  I gazed out the window to the backyard which was huge by California standards. A Mediterranean blue pool reflected the sunlight, large palm trees, oaks and maples made the yard private.

  I imagined a swing hanging from one of the trees where I’d push my son or daughter. Our kids would love to spend afternoons in the pool during the heat of the summer; I could almost hear the laughter and splashing. My heart sped up a little as I imagined the potential.

  Turning toward Leo and Kressley, I tried to pick up the conversation but they threw out architectural terms I was not familiar with. Maybe Leo sensed my feelings because at one point, he reached out to grab my hand and kiss it. He winked at me then turned back to Kressley. My heart fluttered but then I remembered how he treated me earlier and frowned.

  I didn’t know fancy words, but I knew that I preferred earthy shades over the stark white that Leo favored. I liked the natural stone fireplace and the jeweled toned stained glass window in the hallway. The dining room was painted a deep pumpkin color with hardwood flooring and I thought it was perfect as it was, but Leo found it horrifying. “There’s no accounting for taste,” he murmured when I quietly protested over painting the walls whit
e. I bit my lip hard to keep from speaking. I didn’t want to make a scene.

  Kressley slowly walked around with Leo, the two of them conversing about an industrial, modern look. Leo had his hand to his chin which he did when he was in deep thought. Kressley bounced along beside him taking notes.

  “I like clean lines and a lot of white. All stainless steel in the kitchen, of course.”

  Kressley nodded. “Obviously.”

  “Can’t we at least keep it balanced maybe, between modern with a warm touch?” I asked hopefully. I didn’t want to live in a place that was stark and cold. I had enough of that atmosphere at the Hollywood Hills house. “Maybe we can shop for furniture together, I can add something?” Seeing Leo’s face, I quickly added, “Just a bit of color.”

  “Sweetheart, let me make the big decisions, okay? Why don’t you think about where you want to go for dinner, can you do that? Don’t worry about the design. Actually, if you want, you can start a Pinterest board with the styles you like and I’ll look it over.” his voice was detached. He sighed with exasperation and looked at his watch. “I need to get into the office. I have a meeting and a couple of things that need my attention.” He strolled over to where I leaned against the wall, feeling dejected with an undercurrent of resentment. I was out of place in my new home. Leo kissed me goodbye and grabbed my hands forcefully, giving them a squeeze. “Don’t lean against the wall, you’re slumping.”

  I said nothing.

  He told Kressley to call him that evening.

  After he left, I asked Kressley if we could add blue tones or hints of red to go along with the monochrome theme that Leo was pushing for.

  “I can make a note of it and run it by him, but probably not.” He sighed, typing on his laptop computer and avoiding eye contact. “He clearly has a vision, and red and blue isn’t part of that vision.” He chuckled.

  “Okay,” I mumbled, biting my nails. Wasn’t this my place, too? I realized that none of my ideas would be incorporated. A pain settled in my stomach, a burning ache that I carried with me since our wedding day. Would I be following his directions and abiding by his rules for the rest of my life? Per his instructions I was now wearing invisible braces to correct the eyetooth that bothered him.