Fairytales

by Cynthia Freeman

  Well, the next two months were a joy … growin’ bigger and bigger with Dominic’s child inside me. Soon I’d have somethin’ of my own … my very own, my baby … then I wouldn’t be so lonesome anymore. And Dominic couldn’t have been more devoted. He’d call me three … four times a day … hard as he was workin’, tryin’ to get started. Like yesterday, I can remember that morning when my water broke. I had gone to the bathroom and suddenly, like all hell broke loose, I stood there with my legs apart watchin’ what looked to me like Niagara Falls. Nervously, I called to Dominic, who rushed into the bathroom. He was breathin’ hard and tremblin’. “Oh, my God, it’s happened … wait here till I get something,” he said … as though I were goin’ anywhere. With that, he ran from the room bumpin’ into the door and stubbin’ his toe. He swore under his breath, but came back limpin’ with a pail which I straddled, while he went to call the doctor, frantically. After the flow of water had subsided sufficiently, Dominic bundled me into a coat and away we went to the hospital. Three blocks from our flat, Dominic remembered he had forgotten my overnight case and was about to turn back when I said he could pick it up later. I happened to look down at his feet and noticed that he had put on a blue sock and a beige. Laughing, I said, “And Dominic, when you go back, change your socks.” I don’t think he paid any attention to what I’d said. When we arrived at the hospital, I was taken to my room immediately and prepared. Dominic never left my side … only for the times when Dr. Vincente said he had to examine me. Then Dominic was back, holdin’ my hand. I screamed and hollered I shamefully admit, more than was necessary in the beginnin’, but I felt he should know how much a woman went through in presentin’ her husband with his child. Well, the hours went on … by now, I had good reason for screamin’ and hollerin’ and I wasn’t thinkin’ about Dominic or anythin’, just gettin’ this child born. Finally, after six hours, I was taken to delivery, and greedily, I breathed in the gas anesthetic … one more hard push and there it was, that chubby little red baby boy, black-haired and dark-eyed. I swear, from the moment he saw the light of day, he looked just like my Daddy. What a baby … nine pounds, two-and-a-half ounces … he was so big, I thought he was gonna get off that table and walk right out of that room. I couldn’t believe, for all the world, that I could’ve been big enough to give birth to a baby that size, tiny as I was … or thought I was, but the doctor said, “You’re a born mother, you have the perfect build for it.” Then I was given somethin’ for sleep. When I awoke, Dominic was there, standin’ over me. He stroked my hair and held my hand. How touchin’ it all was, watchin’ that big man with tears in his eyes. “Are you happy, Dominic, darlin’?” “Oh God, Catherine, you have no idea what I feel … to think of what you’ve given me.” I smiled weakly and said, “It’s been a pleasure doin’ business with you, Mr. Rossi.”

  When I look back on that first year, in spite of all the quarrels and the makin’ up and adjustin’ to married life, I’d say all in all it hadn’t been any different or more difficult than most young newly married people have. Sure I took things seriously and maybe overreacted at times and blamed Dominic for a lot of things because I wanted him to be what I wanted, and what I wanted was for Dominic to keep reassuring me I was his whole life. But I suppose for a man that’s not quite what he needs—to make a woman his whole existence. A woman is different, she needs that, because, for all her emancipation, or her so-called independence, she really just stepped out of the stone age. Bein’ pulled out of a cave by the hair wasn’t so long ago and to walk out of that into the Steinem age is kind of a hard thing to come face to face with. I’ve been readin’ a lot about this lady lib stuff lately, in search of myself. But that lady lib stuff didn’t have one little bit to do with me when I was a new wife and mother. Sure, I’d fight back to try and defend myself against Dominic. Because he could be very persuasive when he wanted to be, and had I allowed it, he could have submerged me and my personality. I had to fight him hard all the way to try and stay a woman in my own rights … not that I did a very good job of it in the beginnin’. I’m sure I never would’ve won any prizes from the lady libbers. The truth is, that here I was with money of my own to do with as I wanted, and Dominic with his male ego would fight me for spendin’ what was mine. However, I did as I damned well pleased, buyin’ some of the things I wanted anyway, but he never knew how guilty he made me feel—which is not exactly what Gloria is advocatin’ … but that’s the way I always felt … guilty, guilty, guilty. But then Gloria Steinem wasn’t in love or married to someone like Dominic Rossi … I was, and please forgive me, lady libbers of the world, I was never as happy or content as when I was pregnant. At these times I felt Dominic was mine, all mine, and lovin’ him as I did, I saw to it I was pregnant just about as often as I possibly could be. I never did get around to wearin’ my trousseau.

  Eighteen months after baby Dom, I gave Big Dom another son. Salvatore, whom we called Tory.

  Although Dominic’s practice began to gain some momentum, he still wasn’t makin’ just gobs of money and we needed a new house. When we looked, everythin’ I wanted was more than Dominic could afford. And as always, the problem of my money reared its ugly head. “Dominic, I’m just not goin’ to move into one of those ugly old houses just because you’re so damned stubborn.” “Goddamn it, Catherine, we go through this all the time. I’m giving you the best I can for the time being. For Christ’s sake, can’t you just wait?” “No, because it’s not the best I can afford and I’m not gonna raise my children like poor white trash.” Dominic answered, “I’d hardly call this living like poor white trash. Who the hell do you think you are, Catherine de Medici?” “No, I’m Catherine Antoinette Frances Posata Rossi and I’m gonna live in a style I’m accustomed to. I’ve had enough of livin’ in a place like that awful flat we’re gettin’ out of. Maybe that’s good enough for your family, but not for me.” Dominic went into a rage, “Well, goddamn it, you should’ve married a millionaire, not me … and leave my family out of this.” “Maybe I should’ve done just that,” I screamed back. For a week we didn’t talk, then finally, Dominic calmed down and by that time I was so utterly miserable, I guess I’d have moved into the city dump if it could’ve been with Dominic. So we compromised … we bought that five-bedroom Victorian on Scott Street … but I furnished it.

  In the meantime, Mama and Papa came out to see us. They hadn’t seen the children because poor Daddy couldn’t travel since he had had a severe heart attack and in the last year, he’d been doctorin’. It broke my heart that I couldn’t go back to New Orleans, but I couldn’t leave Dominic alone with little Dom and Tory and I was expectin’ … so those telephone calls flew between San Francisco and home. It set us back a pretty penny, I can tell ya. But when Mama saw the house, I thought she was goin’ to faint. Her Catherine … livin’ in a place like this? “Well, Mama,” I said, jokingly, of course, “you picked my husband for me … it’s really your fault marryin’ me off to some strugglin’ lawyer.” She smiled and answered, “I guess we have to be sensible … after all, Catherine, you’re not married to a house, you can always sell it. But Dominic’s a young man with a good future … and I truly believe, in my heart, he’s a man of destiny.” I’ve thought about that many times and wondered if Mama really realized how very profound she was or if she was just sayin’ that to make me feel better … but she really hit the nail on the head, didn’t she?

  By George, no sooner had Tory turned one, I found myself pregnant again. But this time the nine months were miserable, really miserable. In the beginnin’ I threw up constantly. Nothin’ agreed with me, I felt sick and weak most of the time. I simply had to get some extra help in to assist with little Dom and Tory, and this time Dominic didn’t complain, not once. In fact, I think I felt closer to him durin’ that pregnancy than almost at any other time in our married life. His solicitude was so reassurin’ and comfortin’. I’ll just never forget it.

  By this time, he was just about to the point in his practice where he was makin’
a good livin’. In fact, Dominic’s name was beginnin’ to appear in the newspaper as havin’ won a large injunction against a major corporation. And always, there were little things said in the article about Mr. Dominic Rossi bein’ the most promisin’ young attorney that had come along in years … and naturally I was proud. In fact, I began to make a scrapbook of all of his clippin’s. I’d buy an extra paper and send the article for Mama to see. But with all he had on his mind and as hard as he was workin’, he managed to call me several times a day, if only for a minute before rushin’ off to court. Well, the months passed slowly and toward the end, my belly looked like one of those New Orleans overripe watermelons. I had the worse time gettin’ in and out of bed. During the night, I would moan when I had to get out and go to the bathroom … and Dominic would wake up and help me. I can tell ya, I wondered many times how he could go into court bleary-eyed with hardly any sleep with me gruntin’ half the night tryin’ to turn from one side to the next. Finally with the help of the dear Lord, my time had come. And what a surprise that was. Heaven help us! We had twin boys. Angelo and Anthony … those adorable little pink chubby babies, whom we came to call Angie and Tony. Well, you’d just think no one in this entire universe had ever been the father of twins, the way Dominic strutted around and crowed. I swear, he was just about the proudest man alive. I just hate myself for admittin’ that I could’ve had a … a mild case of jealousy over those poor little innocent babies. No, not them really, it was all the attention and lovin’ they were receivin’ from everybody and somehow, I felt neglected, especially after Dominic was so terribly concerned about me durin’ those nine months. Suddenly, it seemed to me that all I was good for was producin’ his inventions. I had the feelin’ of bein’ a conceivin’ machine, poppin’ out one child after another. Good Lord almighty … I’d never let a soul know I ever harbored such thoughts, why people’d think I was downright wicked … I don’t know … maybe I am just a little, but who hasn’t got faults for heaven sakes. I got mine but I do believe most faults are inherited and there’s not much a body can do about that except admit to yourself you’re just human. But I do think I showed my character by gettin’ over those feelin’s in a hurry and no one was the wiser. By the time me and the babies came home, we were one big happy family again.

  Things really began to sail along for Dominic. I have to admit no one worked harder than he did. Those first few years he was almost like a mechanical man, wound up. Runnin’ here, runnin’ there, in such a big hurry. He didn’t really have to, not with the income I had comin’ in from all the inheritance my poor sainted Daddy left me. That was just about the saddest time in my life and the first time I left Dominic and the babies to fly home for that awful agonizin’ event. It’s just not to be believed, the things one can endure. In my state of bereavement, mingled with all the pain, I was never more angry with Dominic because he wouldn’t leave that damned practice to go back with me … he would have, but reluctantly. Why? Because he was smack in the middle of the biggest trial he’d had up to then and had the nerve to say there was no one to replace him. “No one to replace you,” I said lettin’ him know how hurt I was, “why, who do you think you are? No one is irreplaceable. Presidents and kings die and the country goes on and you’ve got one lousy case and can’t leave it when my Daddy is laid out in his coffin?” He bit his lip and said, “Alright Catherine, I’ll leave … I’ll go, if that’s what you want.” “No, sir … you’re not gonna put me in a position of blamin’ me in the future for your losin’ that case as I know you will. I don’t want you to come … I wouldn’t have you come now.” Well, I made that mournful trek back alone. And I stayed with Mama for three weeks … I will say this, Dominic called just about every night, and like most women, I’m sure I was cold and remote and downright nasty the first week. Maybe, a little less so the next, and by the end of that third week, I was so lonesome for Dominic and those sweet darlin’ babies of mine, I really couldn’t wait to fly back into Dominic’s arms when he asked in a sad and soulful way, “When do you think you’re coming home, Catherine.” Of course, I wasn’t about to let him know my desires were greater than his, so holdin’ back, tryin’ to give the impression of reserved consideration that I was makin’ a great sacrifice, I answered, “Soon as I get things straightened out for Mama. After all, you’ve got the babies for comfort and your family who, I’m sure, are hoverin’ about seein’ that things are in order.” “Please, Catherine … please, darling, I know you’re under a great strain, and I don’t want you to be upset more than you are, but my family are not here. The help are managing more than efficiently. I know you’re still hurt and angry at me for not going home with you and I can’t say I blame you and I apologize as I have before. As I’ve said before, nothing would have kept me from going with you under different circumstances, but this case was so terribly important to us … will you just try and understand?” “For us?” “Yes … for us, for our future.” “But I already have a future. My Daddy left me more income property than I’ll ever be able to spend … won’t you try and understand?” There was silence on the phone for a long time, but I could hear Dominic’s breathin’. “Dominic … are you there?” Softly, he answered, “Yes, I’m here.” “Well?” “Catherine, this is not the time nor the place to discuss this … and besides we’ve been through it so many times before.” “Then let’s go through it one more time … tell the truth, so help you God … just like you make those people swear that get up on the stand with a Bible in their hand … why do you refuse to share with me what I got? Is it that damned male ego surfacin’ again?” “Okay, Catherine, you just won’t let it alone, will you … alright, I will not take your money and feel like a pimp. I’m a man … a proud Sicilian who’s still got all those peasant corpuscles running through my veins. My father made it on his own and supported his wife and family as best he could, but he was a man and do you know what a man is? Don’t bother to answer, I’ll tell you. A man is only a man when his wife makes him feel like one. I will not take your money … I will not be beholden to you or anyone. I’m going to be my own man and do the giving … now, Catherine, just one more time … when are you coming home?”

  This time I paused for a lone, long moment while Dominic waited, but I knew he’d never ask again. Finally, I was compelled to say what any woman would’ve said, “I’ll be leavin’ tomorrow morning.” Of course, I knew right then I’d lost the ball game. That Dominic was not gonna bend like a willow, not when it came to bein’ his own man. Of course, I really didn’t want to dominate him … or domineer over his ambitions … but he thought I did, I guess. I only offered it to him outta the goodness of my heart and for us to have a little more of the nicer things in life.

  As sure as I’m layin’ on this bed and daydreamin’ … I can see that day as if it was yesterday. My goodness, how young I was and pretty too, as I stepped off that plane dressed all in black. It was the least I could do for my Daddy for whom I mourned (and would for a long time). But when I saw Dominic lookin’ down from the window at the airport, holdin’ the twins and little Dom and Tory standin’ on chairs, all wavin’ to me, I thought I’d die, my heart pounded so. Good Lord, I loved and missed them more than I even realized. I walked as fast as I could down those landin’ stairs, then ran as fast as I could down to the buildin’ where my own little family waited. There was somethin’ in the way I felt at that moment … a feelin’ I can’t explain, but I needed them all at that moment so very, very much … like they were all makin’ up for my great loss. The next thing I knew, I had my arms around little Dom and Tory … how adorable they looked runnin’ to meet me, callin’ “Mama, Mama.” I kissed and hugged them as though I’d never let ’em go. “My two precious lambs, you’ve really missed Mama haven’t you, and oh dear, how Mama missed her little sugars. I’m just never gonna go way and leave again … never.” I took them proudly by the hand to meet Dominic, but when I came face to face with him, the tears just spilled over. I couldn’t control myself nor did I want to. It was
my way of showin’ Dominic how much I loved him. He gave the twins to Anna, our nursemaid, and I clung to him, weepin’ and sayin’, “Dominic, my Dominic, I’m home.”