He answered, “I’m glad, we missed you.”
Then I took the twins and smothered them with kisses, “Look at my babies … my little Angie and …”
“No, he’s Tony,” Dominic said, laughing.
“Oh, lawd, how am I ever gonna tell the difference?”
That night after the children had been put to bed, Dominic and I went to our room. We had a lot of time to make up for. The three weeks separation had seemed like a century. Oh God, how good he felt layin’ so close to me, breathin’ hard. It was like we just couldn’t get enough of each other. The feelin’s that man could evoke in me. Each time was almost like the first … even better. Then we were quiet, listenin’ to each other’s breathin’ in the silent room. I was the one who broke the silence, “Dominic, did you miss me?”
“Terribly.”
“What did you do in my absence?”
“Just worked hard. Of course, I saw the children before they went to bed every night.”
“Oh … and did they ask for me?”
“All the time.”
“Where’d you have dinner? … at your mother’s mostly?” I was just jokin’ him, but he seemed to resent that, which was surely apparent by his answer.
“Now, why do you ask me that, and what difference would it have made, since you were away?”
“No difference, just curious, that’s all … just wanted to know if my sugar was eatin’ well, that’s all … did you take the babies over?”
Dominic was so sensitive, his voice was a little irritated. He raised up on his elbow, held his face in his hand and said, “I didn’t say I had dinner at my mother’s.”
“I know you didn’t … but I was just wonderin’ … did you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you take the children?”
“Yes.”
“Why you gettin’ so worked up, darlin’, after all, I’m a wife and mother, it’s only natural I’d be wonderin’ how you’d be spendin’ your time … now, that’s not so unreasonable is it?”
“No …”
“Well then … lay back, Dominic, and put your arms around me. I’ve missed them so.” After Dominic took me in his arms, we clung together, at least I did … always so ready to receive him. One thing I never had was a headache when he wanted me. “Dominic?”
“Yes?”
“Do you love me?”
“How can you ask me that?”
I laughed, “That’s a funny thing for a big lawyer to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Answerin’ a question with a question.”
“It’s not any funnier than asking me something you should already know.”
“I don’t think so … every woman has to be sure and from time to time, she just wants to hear it said.”
“I tell you all the time I love you.”
“No, you don’t … not always.”
“Come on, Catherine, that’s just plain nonsense.”
“Now don’t get into a snit, sugar … it’s just because I’ve been away so long … Dominic?”
“Yes?”
“Why’d you marry me?”
“Well … that’s just got to be the goddamndest question you could ask.”
“Hold on now, Dominic … don’t let your Sicilian corpuscles start pulsatin’ through your veins. I just asked a simple question, why’d you marry me?”
“Because I loved you, Catherine.”
“Oh … and what was so redeemin’ about me?”
“Really, Catherine, this sounds so damned childish …”
“To you maybe, but not to a woman. What was there about me you fell in love with?”
Dominic laughed sorta strange. It wasn’t really a happy laugh, but he said, “I fell in love with you because you’re beautiful … I didn’t analyze it. Love is something a person feels. I don’t know, Catherine … how the hell can you explain love … there was just something about you, the way you talked, being southern, so different from anyone I’d ever met. You were simply adorable and provocative.”
“And rich.”
“What the hell is that suppose to mean?”
“Oh … oh, Dominic, you’re gettin’ mad.”
“Of course I am. You’re also so damned irritating at times.”
“So, the fact I had money didn’t impress you, one little bit?”
“Yes, it impressed me totally, that’s why I married you … is that what you want me to say?”
“If that’s what you felt … yes, there’s nothin’ wrong with a little honesty … is there?”
“Nothing at all wrong with a lot of honesty … do you know what I think as long as you brought up the subject?”
“Yes … I’d like to hear.”
“Okay, you ready for this?”
“I surely am.”
“Fine … you’ve got a problem.”
“I have, have I, and what’s that?”
“Your problem is … you simply can’t believe anyone could love you in spite of your money … you’ve got an obsession about it. Catherine, why can’t you believe you’re a beautiful and worthwhile person?”
“I do, Dominic, I mean the worthwhile part that is.”
“No, I don’t think so, Catherine.”
“Dominic, don’t say that to me. I know what I think … I couldn’t have given you those four beautiful babies if I wasn’t worthwhile … now could I?”
“We’re not talking about the same thing. Giving birth … the act of childbearing has nothing to do with character. I’m not talking about motherhood,”
Now I was really irritated and I wasn’t about to take that lyin’ down, so I said, “Look here Dominic, I really resent that. You surely must’ve thought I had plenty of character when you married me or you thought I had plenty of somethin.”
“I did think you had character and an inner strength which I admired when I first met you … I didn’t know however that you had a complex … an inferiority complex.”
“How dare you say that to me!”
“Because it’s true. When someone has to be reassured as often as you do, it can only mean one thing … that they feel unsure of themselves. Catherine, why can’t you believe you’re a worthwhile person, a lovely, lovable, beautiful woman whose husband married her because he loved her … her and not her money. Forget your money and learn to give … give of yourself, that’s all I want … why you didn’t even ask how the trial came out.”
“I was gonna, but what with all the excitement of seein’ the children and wantin’ to love you, I haven’t had time.”
“Well, you’ve got time now.”
I really was peeved at Dominic for sayin’ those things to me, but as a dutiful wife, I asked, and very kindly I must say, “How did the trial come out?” But I’ll be damned if it isn’t a man’s world … he was angry at me! Imagine, after he had let me know I didn’t quite measure up to his expectations. But the thing Dominic was unaware of was my bein’ a lady with the kinda breedin’ I had … so as a dutiful wife I asked again, “Dominic, how was the trial?”
“Fine.”
I swallowed my pride and overlooked his sullenness and asked again, “Did you win?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Dominic, I’m so proud, I really am.”
“I’m so glad,” he answered … without kissin’ me or sayin’ another word. Then he turned around and fell asleep after all the lovemakin’ we’d had earlier and left me layin’ awake there in the dark.
Well … as I could’ve predicted … me with my ability toward fertility, I was expectin’ again. But this time, Dominic and I prayed it would be a girl, however I couldn’t fight those Rossi genes. It was a boy … eight-and-three-quarter pounds … We called him Bobby which was pretty Anglo-Saxonized for Roberto Pasquale Mario Posata Rossi. Oh my, the weight I put on with that one … about forty pounds, give or take … and if there’s anythin’ I loathe is havin’ to deprive myself of a most pleasurable delight such as eatin’ and the kinda food o
ur Stella could make … I declare. She was the best Italian cook this side of Genoa, that heavenly pasta. I have to chuckle when I recall her sayin’, “Youa gonna eata signora per gli nuovo bambino.” I took her advice (in half-Italian and half-English). I did just that and the result was … I simply hate to think about it. I once wore a size six and weighed about ninety-nine drippin’ wet. Not that I was jealous, mind you, but Dominic was still too young and handsome for me to let myself go, especially with those cute little secretaries he now had in the office … well, it wasn’t exactly for them or anyone for that matter that I decided to go on a diet; it was my pride that led me close to starvation that year. I can say this even if it is only to myself … talk about strength of character. No sooner had I gotten myself down and begun to buy a new wardrobe, there I was pregnant again and this time I held the most adorable, precious little baby girl in my arms. For all my sons, there’s somethin’ so special about a daughter, especially my Gina Maria. And Dominic … I thought he would go mad with excitement. Good Lord, an Italian father with a daughter. I can remember my darlin’ Daddy bein’ so protective havin’ to know just who I was goin’ out with because no one was gonna get their grubby hands on … or climb into the hay with his little Catherine without the benefit of clergy. Oh, Daddy, if you could see the anguish your sweet little Catherine is goin’ through now, you wouldn’t have been so anxious to marry me off to that Italian import from the west with all the Sicilian corpuscles runnin’ through his veins.
Catherine was brought up sharply from her long excursion into the past by a persistent knock on the door. She rallied herself to the occasion and barefooted, went to open it. There stood Mrs. Van Muir ready to wheel in the dinner cart. The room was in total darkness. Quickly, Catherine switched on the bedside lamp.
“How are you this evening, Mrs. Rossi?” Mrs. Van Muir asked, full of solicitude.
“Just fine,” Catherine answered trying not to reveal her inner turmoil. Casually, she asked, “Did anyone inquire about me?”
“No … no, there were no calls.”
Damn it all … have a family, a husband, and nobody gives a damn. She could be lying at the bottom of Grand Canyon as far as any of them were concerned. When Mrs. Van Muir left, Catherine poured herself a large glass of wine and sat down to dinner. It was really the only solace she had at this moment. Removing the silver domes from the platters, she sniffed. The roast beef was done to perfection with all the au jus gravy poured over it, the small new potatoes, buttered and parsleyed, made her pick one up and bite into it as she observed the salad and soup. The hot rolls smelled yeasty and fragrant and at last … at long last, there it sat as cozy as anything, a chocolate frosted napoleon. The only thing that was missing was a little soft music and candlelight. That she couldn’t accommodate herself with, but she turned on the radio. It played softly as she launched into the salad … so crisp, the dressing was positively fabulous. She’d have to ask for the ingredients. The soup was one of her favorites, vichyssoise, cold and subtle. The rest of the dinner was sheer ambrosia and the pièce de résistance, the dessert, so flaky and delicate. Nothing like a scrumptious dinner, polished off with cognac to soothe the savage soul, was there … no, nothing, except a husband to share it with … Goddamn it, Dominic, get out of my thoughts. That’s all I’ve done in the last hours is think about how nice it might’ve been if you were only content to be like other husbands, coming home after a hard day at the office and shuttin’ out the world … but not you … always runnin’ after another dream, reachin’ for a higher star. You should’ve been the first man on the moon. And you could’ve, without Cape Canaveral. She settled back in the large chair and sipped the cognac, but Dominic still was there to haunt her. What the hell was he doing tonight? Wasn’t he the least little bit worried about why she hadn’t followed him to San Diego? Calm down, Catherine, the little voice within her sounded loud and clear … it was like the Mahony boys running after her with pitchforks. Times have changed, Catherine … not like it was a few years ago when you’d go dashin’ off to the Farm trying to punish Dominic for his negligence … or screamin’ and threatenin’ you were goin’ back home to New Orleans … then waitin’ for him to call, which he finally usually did after a week … naturally angry in the beginnin’ because he said you were drivin’ him out of his mind. But did that make me feel guilty? Not a bit. Why? I’ll tell you … for two reasons. First the children were all grown and second I no longer had to worry about him havin’ a lady love in his life ’cause once he got hooked on politics he neither had the time … the urge … nor would he risk the chance of any possible scandal … not like some, I’ll say that for him … One thing about Dominic, he’s a man with a hell of a lot of discipline when it comes to somethin’ he wants and he wanted to be a politician and eventually a United States senator no one could point a finger at … untainted, no stains, that’s our Dominic … wouldn’t jeopardize his name for no one or nothin’. Yes siree, so I guess for that reason I took him for granted in these last years, not having to worry about where he was spending his nights. Oh come, Catherine, give the devil his due… He was never really a card-carryin’, dyed-in-the-wool womanizer. So that’s not what’s botherin’ you at this moment … no … what’s botherin’ me is that he would never face the fact that I’d pleaded with him not to get involved in politics. I said it would be bad for our home life … I told him. Did he listen? No. But I have to reiterate … it’s a man’s world, and that’s for damn sure. I’m askin’ what do you do when you try to make a man realize he’s destroyin’ you with his strength, self-importance and ambition. Well, I’ll tell you, my darlin’, you do a lot of crazy foolish things when you’re dealin’ with a fool … and I say he is a fool, because he traded me for the limelight and tried to push me aside when he could’ve had the world in me and the children. We could’ve been like a safe harbor. But here I am, ramblin’ on and on like I was losin’ my mind. I don’t know, sometimes I think I am … I get so aggravated when I think nothin’ I ever did worked … like leavin’ Dominic when he started in politics to come to the Farm … I’ll never forget the first time … I really had him … because he was frightened … a politician needs a wife and I had the advantage over him but was too dumb to see it … that was the time, yes, sir … I could’ve said, look, I’ll make a deal with you, Dominic, give up the race and I’ll come home and you wouldn’t have to be beggin’ anymore … or if you don’t, I’m through with you … Hear? But did I say that … ? No. When he called I acted just like any other woman, but I was so damned lonesome hearing the sound of his voice sayin’ “Catherine, come on home and we’ll talk about it. In fact, we’ll do more than talk. I’m taking you to Rome and I don’t want you to say no—not this time.” Maybe this just might be a new beginnin’ … except the grapes don’t get sweeter just ’cause they been hangin’ on the vine a long time … imagine, him sayin’ that just threw me into a state of complete confusion. I wasn’t thinkin’ straight. If I was, I would’ve stuck to my guns and held my ground. But no, dumb dodo that I was, I succumbed. “I don’t want you to say no …” That’s all it took and there I was goin’ home … where did it get me? Back to the Farm after that glorious Roman holiday … with my little ass in a sling. You know why? Because the trip didn’t solve a thing … and now it’s like the boy who called wolf just once too often. My goin’ away no longer disturbs Dominic like it did in the beginnin’… That’s why he hasn’t bothered to inquire about me. You don’t think it hurts? It sure as hell does, ’cause I’m just not important to him any longer in any way … and that doesn’t lift a lady’s spirits, now does it? Well, Dominic … you don’t know it yet, but I got a great big surprise in store for you. This is a new ball game. Slightly embarrassed, red-faced and plenty ashamed you’re gonna be when it comes out how I’ve been abused and mistreated. Everybody’s gonna know who I am … make no mistake about that, Dominic, my darlin’ … so you can look all you want after you’ve come to the realization I’m really playin’ for keep
s this time … I won’t come back, if and when you simmer down long enough to realize I’m missin’ … not this time … not if I have to wait until hell freezes over.
Catherine’s righteous indignation really boiled over the more she thought about it. She had to get out of here … everything was choking her. Quickly, she changed into a sleeveless dress, flats, and ran from the room … then from the building and finally into the Mercedes and away in a cloud of dust until she disappeared onto the main road where she drove and drove for miles. By the time Catherine returned to her room, she was weary, but much of the frustrations and hostilities she had felt earlier were dispelled. After drawing the bath, she poured herself a glass of wine, sipped as she went back into the bathroom and undressed, then slipped into the bubbles that covered her slightly plump body and there she found comfort as she reached for the glass of wine that had been placed on the edge of the tub and continued to drink slowly. Relaxed, she dried herself, applied some night cream, then slipped into bed. It was one o’clock before she turned off the bedside lamp and fell asleep almost immediately. At four, she awoke from a dream which she couldn’t remember, but it had been dreadful, and now she lay wide awake in the dark. It was impossible to turn off the avalanche of thoughts that invaded her mind … and they took her back to that mansion perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge. She would never forget seeing it for the first time. It was magnificent with all its nine bedrooms, plus maids’ quarters. The marble foyer with its imposing, regal, winding staircase … that enormous living room with the solarium adjacent … then across to the dining room, a perfect size for a family as large as they had acquired … and the kitchen was almost as large as the dining room, but the garden was the thing that Catherine loved almost more than anything. Although there was nothing about it that resembled that garden back home, somehow being in front and enclosed by a high brick wall, the beautiful trees and shrubs which sheltered it from the winds that came off the bay, made her pause reflectively. This was the house of her dreams and she was going to have it. She was expecting her seventh child and the house on Scott had become obsolete long ago. Not only had she loathed it from the beginning, but it had only five bedrooms.
Fairytales Page 5