Fairytales

by Cynthia Freeman

  “Well, Dominic, the truth is, this is the kind of subject one is never up to discussin’, but you’re just gonna have to be a little patient with an old lady who doesn’t really want to interfere, but, Dominic, it does seem to me that I think you’re not takin’ into consideration a lot of things.”

  “Yes, and what is that?”

  “You know, Thanksgivin’ is comin’ and what do you suppose it’s gonna be like for the children without their Daddy there?”

  And what’s it going to be like for Victoria and how in the hell could he face Catherine after that horrible nightmare? The wounds were too raw and deep to even consider sitting at the same table with her. Obviously, she had discussed his spending the holiday with the family or else why would Violet Posata be here? “Mama, I don’t want to offend you, knowing your intentions are meant for the sake of the children, but I regret to say, I simply could not do that.”

  Quietly, she asked, “Why, Dominic, is it your pride?”

  “It goes a little deeper than that.”

  “Are you gonna sit there and tell me that what happened between you and Catherine goes above your responsibility to your children?”

  He got up and walked to the window, looking out at the dusk that covered the city. Turning around, he said, “I love my children and I think I’ve been a good father, but there are some things a man can’t do, not because of pride, but because … the situation between Catherine and me is completely over.”

  “When you have children, it’s never over.”

  “I’m afraid that’s one thing I’m going to have to deprive them of.”

  Taking a sip of her brandy, she said, “Dominic, I think you’re one of the most exceptional people I’ve ever had the privilege of knowin’ and I’m just a little shocked that someone of your stature can’t rise above your own personal feelin’s … not when your feelin’s involve so many others. Whatever your problems are with Catherine, I’m not even concerned about … in fact, the two of you, at this moment, are unimportant … it’s those children I’m thinkin’ of. You brought them into the world and imagine, if you can for just one minute, what that day’s gonna be like? Now, I’m not takin’ you to task, you know that. No matter what happens, the future between you and Catherine is somethin’ for the two of you to resolve … but, Dominic, think like the mature man you are. You can’t avoid one another forever … not that I’m askin’ you for one minute to make it up with Catherine, you two just aren’t important … but those children are. Don’t you know there are gonna be lots and lots of events in the future the two of you are gonna have to share … have you thought of that?”

  “Yes … I’d be less than honest if I said I hadn’t.”

  “Well, then, Dominic, be honest. Don’t you think you should be sittin’ at the head of your table with your children all around you?”

  He sat down with his head in his hands and thought, much as he wanted to say, “I wouldn’t, I can’t,” he could not dismiss lightly the things she had said. He was brought up sharply. “Dominic, darlin’, I know you have to be goin’, but you think about this … and whatever decision you come to, I’ll still love you. But you consider the children. I know, before I go, that you’ll do the right thing … Now God love you and I’ll be in touch in a day or so.”

  He got up and kissed her lightly, on the cheek, and watched as she closed the door behind her, then he went back and sat for a few minutes. He swiveled in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. He knew the answer … that wasn’t why he was procrastinating … how do you tell a woman you’re living with, someone you love, adore, would do anything in the world for … except be with her on Thanksgiving … Christmas … Fourth of July … Sundays … etc … etc., and expect her to keep saying, “yes, darling, I understand … of course darling, I don’t mind playing second fiddle to your seven little Neros.” Oh, shit! It was easier before he left Catherine. Cockeyed as it was, the only problem it seemed then, as he looked back, was being unfaithful to a wife. He glanced at the clock on his desk … it was six. Getting up quickly he left with a feeling of being more unfaithful to Victoria than he’d ever been to Catherine.

  That evening, he sat in the theater and heard not one word of what was going on. Instinctively, he laughed in the right places, applauded at the right time, said it was marvelous when Victoria asked. He had all the makings of Mr. Hyde, but the pretense was killing him. That night, when he lay next to Victoria, he felt like a louse for having made love to her that evening. It was almost the same kind of deviousness Catherine had perpetrated on him when she had tried to soften him first… the night she told him about the house she had bought without his knowledge, the only difference was that he weighed in the balance what Victoria’s reaction would be.

  He held her tightly and asked for the very first time, “Victoria?”

  “Yes, darling?”

  “Are you happy?”

  There was a long, long pause, “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I know this situation isn’t easy for you.”

  “It isn’t easy for either one of us, is it?”

  “No … but my concern is you.”

  “I’ve never complained, have I?”

  “No, never … but I’m sure there have been many times when you would have liked to.”

  “That’s true, Dominic, but I’ve got to accept it on these terms, don’t I … what other choices do I have … or you, for that matter?”

  “None, not really. I told you once a man doesn’t belong to himself when he has children. You remember that?”

  “Yes … and what you’re trying to tell me is you’re having a problem with yourself?”

  “Yes, things like where my loyalties lie … my duties, obligations.”

  Victoria switched on the lamp and sat up in bed. “Let me understand this, Dominic, what kind of duties, obligations and loyalties are we talking about? Do I fall into the category of a duty … an obligation? Look, let me tell you this … my boiling point is very high. It takes a great deal to make me angry. I cut my eyeteeth on tolerance and never being sorry later for things I said in anger. At this moment, I’m not thanking my parents for giving me such sage advice because I think there’s a great deal more to this conversation than you’re telling me. Alright, Dominic, say it.”

  “Victoria, I can’t stand it when you’re hurt like this.”

  “You can’t stand it? Well, at this moment, if you don’t mind, I’m concerned about my feelings … you have something to say, then say it.”

  “I had a visitor today.”

  “Really … your children … your wife? The King of Siam?”

  “This is not like you, Victoria.”

  “Don’t you think so? Well, maybe there are things about me you don’t know. Now, who was your visitor?”

  “My mother-in-law.”

  Victoria started to laugh, until there were tears in her eyes. “Your mother-in-law? My God, there’s no end to the parade. And what did the dear Southern patrician lady say? … No, don’t tell me, I know.”

  “What do you think she said?”

  “Dominic, I’m in the law, remember? Now, let’s see … she said, Dominic, darlin’ I really think it’s wrong for a family to break up. It doesn’t make any difference what happened … you’re a family … Am I gettin’ warm?”

  He didn’t blame her, she had a right. Quietly, he answered, “That’s about right.”

  She got out of bed, and went into the bathroom, trying to hold on to whatever dignity she was still able to control because if she said another word, it would be like the night at DeLucci’s with Catherine throwing things and that’s exactly what she felt like doing … screaming, but she washed her face in cold water, grateful Dominic had not persuaded her or tried to be soothing or comforting. At this moment, she had to be alone. Then, suddenly, a thought conjured up from the past when Dominic had pleaded with her not to become involved with him. Remembering his words, ‘But what kind of a life will this be for you’ and the r
est of the words and conversation rang like a bell in her mind. He’d been right … hadn’t he? But how sure she was that evening which seemed like a million years ago. ‘But I’m a big girl,’ she heard herself saying, ‘and I know what I’m getting into … my eyes are wide open.’ Isn’t that what she said? My God, the promises people think they’re equal to before the challenge. Victoria, you’re acting like a jealous wife … be honest for God’s sake, Dominic’s torn between you and them. They came first, his duties and obligations are to them … it’s tough, but that’s what you’re confronted with … Okay, now, how much does he mean to you … how much do you really love him … is the loneliness, the frustration, the feeling of being shut out at times, worth it … would your life be less complicated … That’s a damned foolish question. Of course, it would … but can you have the love without the pain? Think … what would it be like without him. Hell. Okay … dry your tears and wash your face and act your age and be a woman.

  She went back into the bedroom and for a moment looked at Dominic, who could not meet her gaze. Of course she had become an obligation to him. Was that bad, she asked herself … no, because it was more than that … he loved her and that’s why he couldn’t face her at this moment. Getting back into bed, she clung to Dominic in silence for a while, then she said, “Now, I’m ready to hear what your mother-in-law said to you.”

  Softly, he answered, “She spoke to me about being with the children at Thanksgiving.”

  Victoria responded without emotion, “You’ve given it a great deal of thought?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “I feel it’s the only thing I can do …”

  “You’re right, Dominic … forget a few minutes before. I simply had to blow off steam, but I, honestly, know this is right.”

  He held her closer. As she turned off the light, she felt his tears on her naked shoulder. Dominic was deeply shaken, knowing he was abandoning her. Finally she said, “Darling, I love you and that’s all that matters.” And almost believed it.

  Dominic stood before the door, dreading to ring. How the hell could he see or much less be in the same place with Catherine. He felt like a stranger with his finger poised on the bell. Finally summoning enough courage, he pushed and heard the sound of chimes inside. Almost immediately the door was opened by Gina Maria who threw her arms around Dominic, kissing and hugging him saying, “I’m so glad you’re home, Papa.” Home? No, you’re the only thing that makes it possible for me to be standing here, he thought and then she called out, “Papa’s here.” Soon the rest were surrounding him, embracing him like some hero returning from the wars. He looked at all his sons. They took hold of him by the shoulders. If only they had been Victoria’s. Then the moment he had dreaded was standing before him dressed in a printed flowing matte jersey from Pucci’s, her hair coiffed to perfection, bejeweled with earrings that hung like diamond chandeliers.

  When Catherine took his hand in hers, he shuddered, but as though nothing at all had happened, she said, “Dominic, the children could hardly wait and I’ve got a few wonderful surprises. Now, come on in.” He released his hand which she seemed not to notice as he followed her into the enormous sunken living room. There were autumn chrysanthemums in profusion. The aroma from the kitchen permeated the air with delicious holiday smells. And sitting in the large chair before a blazing fire was Dominic’s mother. Shocked at seeing her, he said, “I spoke to you last night and you didn’t tell me you would be here.”

  “We wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “I thought you were going to Theresa’s … you go every year.”

  She smiled and shook her head, “So this year I decided to be here.”

  Catherine didn’t overlook a thing, did she, he thought as he kissed his mother with great affection.

  “And don’t I get the same kind of a kiss from my favorite son?” Mama Posata asked, dressed in her favorite color, rose mauve lace.

  “Of course,” Dominic answered as Catherine stood by smiling broadly.

  “Now, Dom, you be the bartender while I go see if everythin’s going well in the kitchen.”

  Everyone was in a festive mood laughing and chatting … all except Dominic and his mother who both pretended to join the happy occasion. His mother felt out of place since this was the first time Catherine had been so cordial, extending her hospitality so graciously, which Mrs. Rossi knew was for the benefit of Dominic. She also knew that Dominic had left his home and was living with a strange woman. At this moment, although her grandchildren made up for some of the pain she felt, never before had she been grateful that her beloved husband had been spared the charade of this pretense. For Dominic, it was like drinking hemlock, seeing Catherine, remembering all too well what she was capable of and the crushing humiliation Victoria had suffered, and she was heavy on his mind, knowing that, although she was spending today with her parents and a house full of friends, she felt as alone as he. But he sat on the large sofa talking to Dom and Tory about school when suddenly he looked up and standing in front of him with a platter of hors d’oeuvres was Stella. His mouth hung open. This was the second shock he had received today … that’s what Catherine had meant by a surprise.

  “Buon giorno, Stella,” Dominic said, feeling the heavy pain in his chest, in fact he had to hold back the tears knowing she had suffered because of her loyalty to him. He truly loved this simple woman. How had Catherine taken her back?

  “Buon giorno, Signore.” She held the plate for him to help himself. As he did so, she lowered her eyes, then moved on to the others.

  Catherine sat at ease and chatted casually with the two mothers as though today was as natural as past holidays had been. If she felt any tensions, they were not apparent. After an hour, Anna came in and announced dinner. Dom took his mother’s arm while Dominic assisted his mother on one side and Gina Maria on the other. Tory escorted Grandma Posata and the others followed. Everyone took their seats with Dominic uncomfortably sitting at the head of the table.

  “Everyone’ll be quiet while Papa says grace … Dominic?”

  He lowered his head while his eyes rested on the dinner plate. For a moment he could not find his voice. Then quickly, shutting his eyes, he said, “We thank thee dear Lord for all we are about to receive which you have given us so abundantly.” His voice faltered at the end, but all the children raised their glasses, as did Catherine and the grandmothers, and drank a toast (which Catherine had previously suggested they do) to Papa’s good health.

  Dom stood up with his glass in hand and said, “I drink, as I think we all should, to the love of our parents for having given us so much … for having given us the understanding and patience through all the years … to your health and happiness, I drink.”

  Each of the children stood. “Salute … Mama … Papa.”

  Dominic had tears in his eyes as Gina Maria went quickly to her father and kissed him, then to her mother.

  Stella had outdone herself … the dressing was marvelous, the turkey moist and tender, as Dominic carved. The cranberry molds, the sweet potatoes, casseroles, the pies and pastries melted in one’s mouth.

  Catherine had been instructed by Mama to be gracious, but not overly so … to be casual with Dominic without seeming aloof. She played the part to perfection. The gracious, loving mother, the understanding wife, solicitous only when the occasion demanded, sure the innuendos intended were understood by Dominic.

  Dinner over, everyone retired, more than full, but happy, to the living room where Catherine said, “Gina Maria, play Papa’s favorite song.”

  She sat down at the piano and began “Sorrento.” Vincente came to her side and began to sing. Soon all the others joined in as Dominic sat observing them, while Catherine sat observing him and thinking, this is the beginning, Miss Lang. He’ll be back and you’ll be out.

  The music continued with all the old Italian songs which Dominic loved so much. It was Dom who came to his father and whispered, “Dad, could I speak to you?” />
  Reluctantly, Dominic said, “Yes,” knowing, of course, what the conversation was going to be about.

  “Shall we go into your study, Papa?”

  “Alright.” The two left as Catherine watched, still singing along with the others.

  When they sat down, Dominic took out a cigarette, lit it, watched the flame die, then said, “You wanted to talk … I suppose about school?”

  “Well, that … but first, about something more important.”

  Dominic puffed on the cigarette and waited.

  “Papa, Tory and I didn’t know about you and Mama until we came home. In fact, when you weren’t at the airport, we were shocked.”

  Dominic scratched the back of his head. “I didn’t know when you were arriving.”

  “Oh, I see.” There was silence. “Papa, I’m sure this is very difficult to discuss, but all I know is what I got from Angie and Tony.”

  “What did they say?”

  “That you moved out.”

  “Did they say why?”

  “Only that you and Mama had a terrible fight.”

  “This is very difficult to talk about.”

  “I’m sorry, Papa … but I think I have a right to know what happened.”

  Dominic hesitated and looked at his oldest son.

  “You’re right. In a family there should be no subterfuge.”

  “Okay, I’m waiting.

  “Dominic, I don’t know how or where to begin.”

  “Why not from the beginning?”

  “Well, that goes back to a garden in New Orleans.”

  “I don’t mean that, Papa. Let’s talk about now. What happened between Mama and you?”

  “What happened is that when people are completely different they have nothing in common … well, they fall apart. It’s like a house without a foundation.”

  “And you have no foundation? Your children aren’t a foundation?”

  “Dominic, let me try and explain … I love my children and I think you all know that, but I find I can no longer go on living with the tensions between your mother and me. After all these years, just—”