Maybe This Life

by Grider, J. P.

  Of course, reality hit like a ton of bricks and recent events flashed back into her mind. Rick had been the indirect cause of Vince’s anger four nights ago. Lena didn’t know how Vince had guessed it. She assumed she had been so careful with her thoughts, but he intuited them anyway. Today was not about Vince though. Thoughts about Vince would be pushed aside. Today she wanted to thank Rick. She only hoped it hadn’t been too late.

  After today’s assignments were complete, and her desk, cleared, Lena ventured down to Rick’s office trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. When she entered, he seemed to be expecting her. Not that he expected any gratitude, more like he had wished for her and here she was. His smile, warm and genuine, he stood and walked over to greet her.

  “Lena.” Rick put a hand on the small of her back, causing another swift rush of flutters. “Sit down. I heard you were back today.”

  “Oh.” Then why didn’t he walk by like he usually did, she thought?

  “I figured you had a lot of work to catch up on," he said, uncannily answering her thoughts.

  “Mmm. That’s an understatement.”

  “How ya feeling today? Any better?” The deep concern on his face flattered Lena. But for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why he cared. Nor could she understand the intensity of her own feelings toward him.

  “I’m better. Thank you.” She took a deep breath and fuddled with the broken locket that hung around her neck. “Rick, thank you so much for yesterday. I’m not sure why you showed up…but…I’m really glad you did.” It took all Lena's mental energy not to jump up and hug him. Boy she wanted to, but she was still engaged to Vince. Though she knew she had to break that commitment soon, she hadn’t yet, and initiating any physical contact with Rick wouldn’t be prudent.

  “Well, I’m glad I did also,” Rick assured her. “I wish I could do more, love, but…when you’re ready…I’m here.”

  The tingles in her stomach were distracting, and Lena sighed before saying, “Thank you, Rick.” He’d called her love. Her heart became heavy once again. She could feel the weight crushing her chest. All of a sudden, she wanted to cry. With all her might, she tried to prolong the tears. Her throat tightened where the lump was forming, and her eyes widened to let the air dry the tears before they sprung. Words were going to fail her, so she stood and walked out. From behind her, she could feel Rick watching her rip through the hallway in a hurry to leave work...before anyone saw her break down.

  In her car, she hastened to leave the parking lot. Once she was on the road, she allowed the tears that swelled up in her eyes to flood down her face. She wanted Rick so much. But she couldn’t have him. Not when she was still tethered to Vince. And she knew it’d be a difficult task to sever that link. His family was too big...too important to allow anything disparaging to be said about them. Who would believe her when she finally revealed the horrid truth about Vince Battaglia? Her family of course, but his family? The town?

  Lena knew the Giordanos were just as prominent a family in the town as the Battaglias, but they had much more money to offer the town to keep any gossip at bay. How was she going to do this? When was she going to do this? It had to be soon. It had to be yesterday.

  Lena stopped by her parents' house on the way home from work. She loved walking into her childhood home. Its Victorian charm was comforting in its prim and proper way, but the coziness and love that her mother Jules put into it added warmth and intimacy. Jules loved her large family, and it showed in everything she did for them. Even the coffee she perked over the gas stove had the aroma of love – its smokey, yet full-bodied taste shouted, ‘Come. Sip me. Stay awhile.’ Although it lacked the convenience of Lena’s Keurig, her mother’s coffee trumped convenience in smell, taste and enjoyment. Just like coming home to Mom and Dad trumped going home to her empty apartment.

  What had she been thinking moving out on her own? She was much happier here at home. Big deal if she were twenty-five and still living at home. Many people were doing that now as a result of the poor economy. Why had she been in such a rush to leave?

  Vince was why she was in such a hurry to move out. He kept insisting that if she wouldn’t move in with him, she should at least have her own place for him to stay over. Ironically, she’d never let him stay the night anyway. It just never felt right.

  Now here she lived in her own apartment, more unhappy than ever.

  “Lena, sweetheart,” Jules hailed when she saw her daughter in the kitchen doorway. “I’m so happy you’re here. How are you feeling? Any better?”

  “Yeah, Mom, I’m better.” Lena slowly pulled out one of the high-back Victorian-style kitchen chairs and sat down, leaning her head in her hand.

  Jules must have caught Lena’s silent sigh, because after preparing her daughter a cup of coffee, she sat it in front of her, sat down next to her, and placed both her hands over Lena’s free hand. “Sweetie. What’s the matter? Why are you so sad?”

  Lena didn’t even try to stop this round of tears. She allowed them all to flow, like a weakened dam succumbing to the weight of the water. Yet, although the tears could freely tumble, the words would not. They remained prisoners in her mind, unable to free themselves from the torment.

  “Lena, honey, what?” Jules empathized, unable to get hold of her own emotions while her daughter broke down in front of her.

  Lena just shook her head, still leaning on her hand. Her breathing came out in clips. Little hiccups between cries.

  “Baby... is it Vince?”

  Still cradling her head, Lena nodded.

  “Did he cheat on you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Was he fresh?”

  A nod.

  “Oh sweetie. What’d he say?”

  What could Lena say? ‘Mom. He raped me. Twice.’ No. She couldn’t tell her mom that now. That bridge should have been crossed a year ago, the first time Vince stole her innocence. How ‘bout, ‘Mom. He beats me. Regularly.’ No. Another bridge untouched. What was left? Another truth. “Mom,” she cried into her hand, still being used as a support. “I don’t want to get married.” She finally dropped her hand and looked at her mother. “Not now. Not to Vince.”

  “You are young yet,” her mom validated. “I never did think you were ready.”

  Lena wiped her eyes. “Really, Mom? It’s okay to break it off?” Lena asked, with just the tiniest hint of hope.

  “Of course, Lena. Your father and I would never want you to do anything you’re not ready for. Especially marriage.”

  Jules’ reassuring support was like a beacon in the night. Lena finally could see happiness up ahead.

  But how would she tell Vince? It wouldn't be easy. And she most definitely could not do it alone.

  “Mom. Could you and Daddy help me tell Vince and his parents? I…really don’t want to do it alone.”

  “Of course. Now,” Jules got up and went to the stove, “how ‘bout some pot roast?”

  Suddenly, Lena felt famished. “Okay. I love your pot roast.” Lena got herself a plate and brought it to her mom. “Where is everybody? I mean…Daddy’s working, but what about Katrina and the boys?”

  “Katrina’s at Joe’s house, Francis is working and Antonio is at school. Nicky and Christopher are with Daddy. Wrestling practice. Dad’s not working tonight.”

  “Oh.”

  “They should be home soon. Why don’t you stay here tonight? You know your room upstairs is still yours.”

  Lena liked that idea. “Yeah. I will. I still have half my clothes here, so I don’t even need to go get anything.”

  “Great.” Jules was perfect. Lena was so grateful that she had her for a mother.

  Tomorrow, she’d be unengaged.

  And finally free from Vince Battaglia.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Vince bolted through the Giordano’s front door, crashing it into the bottom step of the staircase. “Lena,” he bellowed.

  Jules came running to the door, Christopher fol
lowing. Lena stood in the kitchen doorway, afraid to move forward.

  “What’s your problem, Vince? You don’t bust in our house like that,” fifteen-year-old Christopher warned.

  “Christopher.” Jules put her hand on his shoulder. “Now, Vince. What’s got you so upset that you need to crash through our front door without knocking?”

  “Lena’s avoiding me. I wanna know why,” he commanded.

  “Vince. She’s been sick. Today was her first day out, and I asked her to stay here for the night.”

  “What’d she tell you?” Vince once again demanded an answer. Lena peered out from behind the half-wall that blocked her from Vince’s sight.

  “Lena,” he howled. “What’d you tell ‘em?”

  “Nothing, Vince,” Lena said quietly, wishing he would just go away. “Nothing. I…I.”

  Jules put her hand up to stop Lena from finishing her sentence. “Vince, come in the kitchen, now. C’mon. I’ll get you a cup of coffee. We’ll sit,” Jules turned to Christopher, “Go get your father. He’s upstairs."

  Christopher two-stepped the staircase. Vince followed Jules and Lena into the kitchen.

  Fortunately, when Frank came home earlier, Lena had informed her father of her decision to break up with Vince. Frank’s only apprehension was his concern for the Battaglias. He knew in a large, estimable family like theirs, a broken engagement would definitely be public fodder, and he would never want to discredit their reputation. But in the end, it was Frank’s daughter’s well-being that mattered above all else. He gave his support and promised to help her through it.

  Lena’s father Frank entered the room as he entered every room, commanding respect by his mere presence – a man of short stature yet great power, the effect of holding world powerlifting records for the past two decades.

  Aggravated and tense already, Vince sat rigid when the older man sat down across from him. His chest stuck out like a cave man ready for a fight.

  Frank sat calm and easy, sipping the coffee his wife offered. “Now Vince.” Frank’s even tone was meant to not offend an already edgy Vince. “Lena came to me tonight with a request.”

  Lena’s trembles were apparent to everyone, as her bouncing foot actually caused the table to shake. The locket around her neck was in its usual place, enveloped in her palm and close to her heart. Disappointed in herself for not breaking up with Vince herself, she closed her eyes and hung her head low. He scared her. If she had tried to tell him herself, the words would have never come out.

  “And what request would that be, sir?” Vince's question held disdain.

  “She’s decided she’s not ready to get married.”

  Slamming his hands on the table and jumping to his feet, Vince snarled, “No. She does not get to make that decision.”

  Never ashamed of standing almost a head shorter than most men, Frank also stood and advanced closer to Vince. “Yes, Vince, I’m afraid she does have the right, as would you, if you felt that way.”

  The wrath behind Vince’s eyes, though fearful, caused a swell of sympathy in Lena’s heart. She felt terrible about hurting Vince’s feelings. Despite his gruff and barbarous ways, Lena had a soft spot for Vince, realizing that he really believed he was entitled to his ill-mannered ways. His parents had always been so tied up in business and society events that Vince had always been an afterthought. Lena couldn’t help but empathize with him. Though her childhood had been full of her parents’ attention, something deep inside of her felt the pain of neglect.

  But then Vince’s piercing glare, now directed at her, had punctured that soft spot for him, bringing her back to the real reason she couldn’t marry Vince. His grueling brutality could eventually get her killed…literally. Lena averted her eyes from his stare but managed a timid, “I’m sorry.”

  Without glancing at him, his glower still held enough rage that she could almost imagine the heat of his blood boiling beneath his skin. Thankfully, in the next instant she heard his footsteps striding through the house, followed by the front door slamming behind him.

  Lena collapsed to the floor.

  “Oh my goodness! Frank,” Jules cried.

  Frank kneeled next to his daughter. “Call 911,” he directed to Christopher. “Jules, go get my smelling salts from my first aid case. It’s in my wrestling bag.”

  Jules hastily searched Frank's black duffel bag and retrieved the smelling salts. “Here.” She handed it to Frank.

  “Open it first, Jul.” Frank had one hand under Lena’s head, leaving only one free hand. He took the open package from Jules and held it beneath Lena’s nose.

  "Uggh, ewww." Lena groaned but then closed her eyes again.

  Frank kept waving the salts under her nose. "C'mon, Leen. Get up," Frank pleaded.

  "Eww. Uggh." Lena shook her head. "Hmmm," she mumbled. The room was hazy, but soon her father came into focus. After a couple of seconds, Lena became wide-eyed, not liking the smell of the salts at all.

  “Lena, what happened?” Jules asked.

  “I don’t know…I…I got lightheaded.”

  Christopher walked in just then with the paramedics, who took Lena’s vitals, fed her some Coke with added table sugar, and told her not to drive for at least two hours. The paramedics were in and out within twenty minutes time and chalked it up to a fainting spell. Then they suggested she see a doctor to determine its cause.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Monday morning, Rick felt the need to talk with Lena before going to his office. After thinking about her all weekend, he had decided to pursue her friendship more aggressively. No longer able to accept the sadness that lurked behind her eyes, his intention was to replace her sorrowful heart with a heart filled with joy, if it were the last thing on Earth he would ever do.

  She was busy writing at her desk when Rick stopped cold in his tracks. There she was, sitting behind the glass cubicle. Beautiful…vulnerable…sad. It may not have been apparent to most, but to Rick...it was as clear as the blue sky on a tragic day. Lena’s beauty was overwhelmed by the wounds that ran deep inside her. She could not hide that from him.

  But Rick had a reason for being here. To mend those wounds.

  He lifted his feet from the floor and approached the fair maiden in distress.

  “Lena.” She looked up from her writing pad and smiled. “How are you, Miss?”

  Lena giggled. “Hi, Rick.”

  He sauntered nearer to her desk and stopped, fumbling with the keys in his coat pocket. “Lena.” Rick paused to collect his thoughts, even though he’d gone over it at least a hundred times. “There’s this park down the road. Sunnybank. I go there sometimes to think. Well...” He wanted to ask her to join him there for lunch, but he was sure she would object to driving there together. “Um, could you meet me there today? About one?” He noticed her eyes widen, but he continued his spiel anyway. “I packed a picnic lunch in the hopes that you would join me,” he questioned, bracing himself for another rejection.

  “Okay.”

  “Wait. What?” Did he hear her correctly?

  Lena smiled. “I said okay.”

  Left speechless, Rick wanted to walk up to her and hug her...then thank her for agreeing to see him today.

  She continued to smile at him while he stood stunned.

  “Um. Great. Do you know where it is, or would you like me to drive?”

  Lena grabbed at her locket.. “Uh, no, I can drive, in case, well, in case I need to get back…before you do.”

  “That’s fine. You know where Sunnybank is?”

  “On Terhune, right? I pass it when I go to the CVS.”

  “Right. Terhune. Great. I’ll see you there. One?” He continued jiggling his keys.

  “One.” She grinned.

  Rick turned to go back to his office. She said yes. Now he had to go buy a picnic lunch somewhere. And a basket? Nah. Maybe a bagged lunch would suffice? No. Not for Lena. Rick locked up his office and told Betty he’d be out until after lunch. Rick headed to K-Mart to buy a picnic
basket and, maybe, a red and white gingham tablecloth.

  After snapping the blanket down on the lawn, Rick took one last look inside the basket. Two sandwiches, one turkey, one roast beef, not sure of which Lena would prefer. A can of Coke, a can of Diet Coke, two waters and two black and white cookies. He hankered for a cigarette, but he didn’t want to have smoker’s breath. Nor did he want to conjure up Angie, as smoking usually triggered, because he needed to have his attention, and his heart, solely on Lena. Today was about her. Not about his past.

  Lena stood at the top of the hill overlooking Sunnybank when Rick caught a glimpse of her. He found it difficult to stand on his own two feet. He hadn’t remembered ever feeling so weak in the knees. He wanted to run. Race by her side and walk her down the hill, hand in hand. But all he could do was stare. She said yes, she'd have lunch with him at Sunnybank, and here she was. His stomach burned with excitement.

  He needed to slow the rapid breathing that took over as he watched her. Approaching him like an angel drifting in the wind, Lena showed him her wide, bright smile. He never wanted to let go this vision that now stood before him.

  “Hi,” she sang.

  “Hi.”

  They stood in silence for a moment. Rick, captivated by her presence, was unable to form a coherent thought.

  “It looks nice.” Lena motioned to the picnic, her voice strained with nervous anticipation.

  He collected himself and came back to reality. “Oh. The picnic? Yeah, well, I’m a dork.” He sighed, able to bring his breathing back to normal.