Fairytales

by Cynthia Freeman

  “Can’t you think of one nice thing to say about me?”

  “I would, if I could think of anything.”

  “Oh, Victoria, I love you,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to him, where she sat on his lap as he kissed her.

  Then time became their nemesis. Dominic dressed as Victoria tried to keep the conversation light, but when it came time for him to leave, it wasn’t quite so easy. “This is the most difficult part … the thing I knew would happen.”

  “Now, look, Dominic, my Jewish mother taught me if you can’t have the whole matzo ball, you savor the part you have. Dominic, let’s savor the part we have.”

  “I’ll try, but God, I wish it could be different.”

  “So do I … but in time it will be easier. Now, darling, go home. It’s getting late and we have enough to worry about. I love you.”

  “I adore you. I’ll call at the office tomorrow and if you’re free, we’ll have lunch, okay?”

  “Okay, Mr. Rossi, I’d love that. Now, goodnight, darling.”

  When Dominic left, Victoria straightened up, put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, went back into the living room, poured herself a drink, turned on the stereo and listened to it play “Clair de Lune” as the tears ran down her cheeks.

  The next morning at ten, Dominic called like an excited school boy, “May I speak to Miss Lang?”

  “Who’s calling?”

  “This is Mr. Rossi.”

  “One moment, I’ll see if Miss Lang is available.”

  While he waited for Victoria to answer, he hummed “the most beautiful girl in the world makes my” … “Victoria, darling.”

  “Yes, Mr. Rossi, darling, how are you this fine day?”

  “Couldn’t be happier … what about lunch and where?”

  “Meet me at the office at twelve, if you can, and where I’ll tell you later.”

  “The answer to the first is I can … and the question of the latter, I’ll leave up to you.”

  “Twelve then. The door to my office will be open. Oh, and remind me to tell you I love you, Mr. Rossi.”

  “I intend to, Miss Lang.”

  When Dominic entered, Victoria was on the telephone. She motioned to him to be seated, gestured, holding up her index finger that the conversation would be over in about a minute, give or take.

  “Yes, Mr. Friedman … yes, of course I can understand how you would take that attitude.”

  Dominic walked to where she was seated behind her desk, took her hand as she stood, then he seated himself with her on his lap, kissed her on the neck, unbuttoned the front of her blouse and felt her firm warm breast as her nipple distended … “The only problem … is …” holding her hand tightly over the mouthpiece, she said, “Stop that, Dominic, how can I concentrate with you doing that. This is a very important client… No, Mr. Friedman, I don’t think there’s a chance they’ll settle out of court … yes … yes, I know, but I believe that’s in our favor … with the proper jury … Yes? How do you mean? … Dominic, stop biting my ear … Of course, I absolutely agree it will be a different story when we take their deposition.” Trying to release Dominic’s hand, which was very disconcerting, she said, “Fine, that’s exactly the way we’ll proceed and I’ll be in touch as soon as I have a few more answers from the opposition … Fine … yes … not at all … no, Mr. Friedman, I don’t think it’s very good strategy to show them we’re too anxious … alright, I’ll keep you posted … of course… good-bye, Mr. Friedman.”

  Hanging up, she said, “Dominic, you’re incorrigible. How do you expect me to carry on an intelligent conversation with you …”

  He kissed her over and over again.

  Breathlessly, she said, “If you don’t stop that, I’ll have you on the couch and then you’ll be sorry because I have something for lunch that won’t keep.”

  “I dare you. Go ahead and see if I’ll be sorry and besides, I don’t think I can keep till after lunch.”

  “You’ll have to … now, come on,” she said, taking his hands. They walked to Victoria’s car and drove along the Embarcadero where Victoria turned onto a deserted pier where she brought the car to a halt. “Where’d you find this spot?”

  “I’ve had my eye on it. In fact, I’m thinking of buying it just for us.”

  “Okay, I’ll chip in a dollar and a quarter.”

  “That’ll help. Now, darling, I have to get something out of the trunk rack.”

  “What?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Dominic took the keys and opened the back, got out a basket filled with sourdough bread, cracked crab, cheese, olives and wine, and brought it back. They ate looking out to the blue bay as the ships slipped past them. Victoria picked the white plump crab from its shell with a small fork and handed a piece to Dominic, then took one for herself. Nothing ever tasted so good. The wine, that had been chilled in a small ice container, Dominic poured.

  “Victoria, this is the most marvelous thing. How did you ever think of it?”

  “Just clever, I guess.”

  “And that’s no exaggeration.”

  “I know.”

  “I believe it.”

  “You can believe anything I say, Mr. Rossi.”

  “I do.”

  “Including the fact I adore you and you make me happier than anything in the world.”

  “Me too,” he said, kissing her. “Victoria, do you think you could leave for a few days … I’ve got to go to Chicago on Thursday.”

  “Umm … I don’t know, darling, I’ll have to see what’s on the calendar.”

  “Try. Will you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, God, wouldn’t that be wonderful.”

  “Simply wonderful, but let me see what I can work out.”

  “Try?”

  “If I can make it, you won’t be able to keep me away and then you’ll be sorry you asked.”

  Drawing her close to him, he whispered hoarsely, “I’ll never be sorry where you’re concerned … Vicky, I want you so badly now.”

  “Can you hold on for about five minutes?” she said, releasing herself gently, then starting the ignition.

  “I’m not sure,” he answered smiling.

  “Discipline yourself, Mr. Rossi, well be at the apartment before you know it.” …

  When they’d finished loving, tenderly, Dominic stroked her hair, “I didn’t know anything could be so wonderful between two people.”

  “Nor I, Dominic.”

  Then suddenly, Victoria sat up in bed, “My God, Dominic, do you know what time it is … two-fifteen, and I have a two-thirty appointment.” She picked up the telephone and dialed her office. As it rang, she said, “Dominic, you’re interfering with my livelihood, a struggling lady lawyer has to … Hello, Jenny, Miss Lang here … look, I’ve been detained, but I should be there in about twenty minutes. Hold down the fort.” She kissed Dominic on the forehead and jumped out of bed, rushing to the bathroom.

  When she finished, she came back quickly to the bedroom, where Dominic was still in bed. “Alright, sir, the bathroom’s all yours and I would suggest, if you want to hitch a ride back to your office, you’ll have to be ready in about five minutes.”

  “Come and get me.”

  After an exhausting and hectic afternoon, Victoria was happy to be home. She undressed, then sat on the edge of the bed taking off her stockings. When the phone rang, she lay back nude. Her free hand ran over the bed where Dominic had lain earlier today. More than sure it was him, she said, “Hello, darling.”

  He laughed, “How did you know it was me?”

  “I could tell from the sound of the ring.”

  “You’re even psychic.”

  “That’s right, but only about you.”

  “And I’m more than psychic about you. I can’t get you off my mind and I had to call before leaving the office. What are you doing?”

  “Well, I’m lying in my favorite spot, dressed in the same outfit I had on the first day they spanked m
e on the bottom and dreaming about earlier today with you.”

  “I miss you.”

  “Same here.”

  “Wish I could be there.”

  “Well, Mr. Rossi, nobody can have everything. Don’t you remember when you were a little boy and found out there was no Santa Claus?”

  “I remember and I cried a lot.”

  “Did you really? How sad … that can be traumatic for a little boy … but I’ll try and make up for that shattering experience.”

  “You’ve already helped … about Thursday, can you go?”

  “Yes, darling … I shouldn’t, but I’m going.”

  “Oh, my God … there is a Santa Claus.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  “Got the message … what about tomorrow for lunch?”

  “What time and where?”

  “Twelve-thirty at Paoli’s … can you make it?”

  “I may be a few minutes late.”

  “I’ll wait. I love you.”

  “Me, too, Mr. Rossi.” She hung up with the sound of his voice still in her ears, feeling warm all over, wanting him terribly after this afternoon…

  At eleven o’clock that evening, Dominic stood brushing his teeth in the bathroom and observed himself in the mirror, but the image he saw was not of himself, but of Victoria rushing nude into the bedroom earlier this afternoon. The glow of today still remained with him. The anticipation of what lay ahead for them filled him with an excitement he could scarcely contain. Imagine being with her alone, just the two of them away from everything familiar, like going into a world of enchantment. When he lay in bed with the lights off and Catherine alongside him, he said, “I have to go to Chicago for a few days.”

  “Oh … and when will you be back?”

  “Sunday night.”

  “Dominic?”

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “That the time has come when I can leave the children … and go off with you.”

  Unable to catch his breath, he thought he was going to faint. He couldn’t believe it. He shook his head in the dark. What was he going to say to Victoria? He could fight enormous corporations and win, but he didn’t know how to handle this one. Then his mind began to play tricks on him … Did she know? … Did she suspect? … for Christ’s sake, how could she? Logically, he realized Catherine must have reconsidered their positions, coming to the conclusion that maybe she should be with him a little more, since their so-called reconciliation. But why … why now, at this time in his life? Years ago … yes, but that was a different time … It was altogether different.

  “Catherine,” he said, trying to keep his voice even, “you know I won’t have much time to devote to you. This is strictly business.”

  “I don’t care, Dominic. You’re not gonna work night and day.”

  “That’s just the point. Sometimes these conferences go on and on into the early hours of the morning.”

  “I’ll worry about that when we get there.”

  “Look, Catherine,” he said, switching on the light and sitting up in bed, “this could be very boring for you … I’m only saying it for you. What will you do with yourself all day?”

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. I’ll find things to do. After all, Chicago has lots and lots of gorgeous things to buy. I could spend the entire day at Marshall Field’s alone.”

  Oh boy …

  “You do want me to go, don’t you, Dominic?”

  “What… oh, yes, of course.”

  “You’re not to concern yourself with me. It’ll just be nice bein’ together.” Dominic wasn’t listening, just thinking. “What’ll the weather be like? Cold, I suppose?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Dominic?”

  “Huh?”

  “I asked you what about the weather?”

  “What about it?”

  “I just asked … do you think it’ll be cold?”

  “Oh … oh, yes, very, very cold.”

  “Then I’ll take my mink coat and hat, a few woolen suits, maybe one or two dresses for dinner and…”

  “Look, Catherine,” making sure he didn’t sound as though he was protesting too much, that could be the kiss of death, “knowing how much you dislike the cold … it’s cold. In fact, freezing in Chicago this time of the year. Why don’t you wait until I go some place more pleasant where the weather is better?”

  “No … Dominic, you’d be surprised how accustomed I’ve become to the cold. I never thought I would, but do you know I was so uncomfortable in New Orleans this summer, I thought I’d die … now, would you believe it?”

  “Believe what… ?”

  “Dominic, you’re not payin’ attention. You got so much on your mind, sometimes I think I’m talkin’ to myself … I said the weather down south was so hot, I couldn’t stand it.”

  “Oh, really … is that a fact?”

  “That’s a fact. Mama couldn’t get over it.”

  “I believe it.” I can believe anything after this, Dominic thought. Catherine was fast asleep when Dominic got out of bed at two in the morning after not shutting his eyes. Going down the stairs, he went to his study and poured himself a large bourbon, then stretched out on the sofa and thought about Victoria. He knew she was a woman of extraordinary patience and understanding, but how much could a woman take … how long would she be able to endure the strain of what she was being subjected to. He was really devastated. Drinking himself into oblivion, he fell asleep. That morning at six he awoke groggy with a headache and a terrible taste in his mouth. Going to the small adjacent bathroom, he brushed his teeth, then went into the kitchen where Stella was just preparing fresh orange juice.

  “Buon giorno, Signore,” she said, continuing in Italian, “You’re up so early.”

  “Yes, a little.”

  “Signore, would you like breakfast?”

  “No … no, Stella, just strong black coffee per piacere.”

  Putting the palms of her hands up, she asked, “A tutto?”

  “Si grazie, a tutto.”

  “No orange juice?”

  “Just coffee.”

  “I’ll bring it into the dining room in a few minutes.”

  “Grazie, Stella.” With that, Dominic seated himself at the dining room table and waited with his head in his hands, trying to stop the throbbing in his temples.

  “Buon giorno, Papa.”

  Dominic looked sideways. It was Bobby. “Buon giorno, Roberto. You’re up early too.”

  “No, I’m always up early, Papa … Sometimes I think sleep is such a waste of time.”

  “It can also be a blessing, believe me, Roberto.”

  “You look tired, Papa, like you haven’t slept at all.”

  “You’re right. I had about four hours.”

  Without hesitation, he said, “You know, Papa, I’m not going to be a lawyer like the others.”

  “You made up your mind? At sixteen?”

  “Yes, Papa, I did.”

  In spite of the pounding in Dominic’s head, he laughed mildly, “It’s funny how sure you can be at sixteen. I’m forty-three and not sure about a lot of things.”

  “You’re sure, Papa.”

  There was a peculiar sound in Bobby’s voice … almost like condemnation. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean you’re sure about the things you want.”

  “Really … and what do you think I want?”

  “You want to be famous … important … rich.”

  Dominic looked at his son as though he were seeing him for the first time. He seemed so old … so mature … too mature for his age this morning. It was a little disturbing. “And what’s so bad about that?”

  “It’s alright if that’s what you want … but not me.

  “No … ? What do you want?”

  “I want to be free.”

  “Free? And you can’t be free and want all those things?”

  �
��No.”

  “And what makes you so smart and wise?”

  “I’m not so smart and wise. I just don’t want a lot of possessions.” Stella brought in the coffee and put it in front of Dominic. As he started to take a sip, Bobby continued, “Possessions and power are the worst evils in the world.”

  Dominic choked as he swallowed. Finally, with a gulp, he asked, “Where are you getting all these ideas, Bobby?”

  “From philosophy.”

  “From philosophy? What kinds of books are you reading?”

  “Nietzsche … Marx, Engels.”

  Once again, Dominic choked, but this time a fine spray of coffee spewed from his mouth. “Nietzsche, Marx and Engels? Listen, Roberto, those books are not for you now. Not now. Wait until you’re older and can understand them. Do you hear what I say? … They were all crazy, paranoid misfits.”

  “I don’t think so, Papa. They were men of vision, who saw how oppressed the masses are.”

  “Is that a fact … well, you don’t look too oppressed.”

  “That’s just it. Why should we have so much when other people are starving?”

  “Because I worked goddamned hard to see to it that you wouldn’t be oppressed.”

  “Yes, but you didn’t do it for humanitarian reasons, you did it only for us.”

  Oh, my God, he didn’t have enough to think about this morning with Victoria and Catherine, he had a junior Commie on his hands who had no idea what he was getting into. “Listen, Roberto … this discussion is over. Now, I’ll call Stella to get your breakfast. On a full stomach the world doesn’t look so bad.”

  “Listen, Papa, there’s one thing I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

  Dominic was afraid to ask what … maybe he was joining the Communist Party … maybe he’d get a medal from Stalin for being the youngest member in existence outside of Russia. “Okay, Roberto … what have you been meaning to tell me?”

  “I don’t want to go to school anymore.”

  “What the hell kind of nonsense is this?”

  “It’s not nonsense. I want to go to Europe and study sculpting in Florence.”

  “Are you crazy? First, you’ll finish school, then we’ll talk.”

  “See, that’s what I mean by being free.”

  “At sixteen, you don’t have to be free … at twenty-one, you’ll be free.”