The Devil of DiRisio

by Leslie DuBois

  “I couldn’t let you wake up from surgery alone,” he whispered still caressing my face. Oh, how he looked at me with those baby blue eyes. He really did love me.

  “How did you know I was in surgery?”

  “I’m your emergency contact. The Academy called during the game and I came as soon as I got the message. A painful silence fell between us. “I know you’re still mad at me, but I love you and I know we belong together.” I turned away from him. “You’re right you know. I need to see a doctor again.”

  He paused and took a deep breath. When he started talking again, his voice quivered. “When my parents died, it shattered me. You were the first thing to make me feel whole again. I can’t bear the thought of losing you. I know I screwed up big time, but we can go beyond that, can’t we?”

  I turned to look at him then turned away again. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to shut him out and then fell asleep. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t shut Will out of my life. Every time I opened my eyes, he was there. Even when I went to the psychiatric ward of the hospital, he came and slept on the recliner in the room. He had to be terribly uncomfortable but he never complained.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in Madrid?” I asked when I noticed he was making himself comfortable in my room. He’d actually had one of his teammates bring him some clothes.

  “They backed out of the trade. They think I’m mentally unstable. It wouldn’t matter anyway. Lottomatica is out of the tournament. So, you’re stuck with me. I’m staying by your side until you’re completely healthy whether you like it or not.”

  He stared at me from across the room with his sweet eyes begging me to forgive him. He wanted his determination to stay by my side to be proof enough of his love. He wanted me to be able to forget everything and take him back unconditionally. I stayed silent, not knowing if I could do that.

  “When you get discharged, I’ll leave you alone forever if you want,” he said when I didn’t respond, turning his attention back to the basketball game he was watching.

  When the psychiatrist came for the first time she asked Will to leave so that she could be alone with me.

  “Do you speak Italian? My English is not so good,” she said when Will was gone. “My name is Patricia Giadorno.” She continued once I assured her I was fluent in the language. “Was that your boyfriend?” She was trying to make small talk and seem friendly. She could tell from my body language that I did not want to be there. It was obvious that I thought I didn’t have a problem.

  Dr. Giadorno stared at me waiting for a response. For some reason, I couldn’t think of what to say. Was Will still my boyfriend? Was he my fiancé? Was he anything to me anymore? Just four days ago, I was about to get on a plane and live with another man. Dr. Giadorno took my silence as resentment for the treatment she was trying to give. She decided to try a different approach.

  “Dr. Montero is very worried about you. Six years ago, his daughter died due to complications from anorexia. He doesn’t want that to happen to anyone else. He just wants me to talk to you. I don’t know if you have a problem or not, but he is a good friend of mine and if he’s worried I will do anything to allay his fears.” Dr. Giadorno put her pen and clipboard away and sat next to me on the bed. She was relatively young with a good figure and beautiful smile, but behind that smile she seemed tired and overworked. I wondered how many pathetic teenagers she tried to convince to eat every day. I felt sorry that she had to waste her time with me when I obviously didn’t have a problem. “So, why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

  “What do you want to know?” I sighed, resigned to the fact that I was stuck there.

  “I hear you dance. Why don’t you tell me about that?” she said with a smile. I found myself unconsciously warming up to her. It wouldn’t hurt to tell her about ballet. I could talk about ballet to anyone. I told her I was attending the DiRisio Academy of Dance and then somehow I ended up talking about the very first dance recital I saw when I was eight years old and how determined I was to take lessons.

  Before I knew it, two hours had passed and a nurse knocked on my door to bring my lunch. I stared at the food in disgust. Everything was high fat and high protein. What were they trying to do to me? Well, that was a stupid question. Everyone in this place thought I was too skinny. They were trying to fatten me up.

  Dr. Giadorno stood by my bed even after the nurse left waiting for me to take my first bite so she could write down her observations or something like I was some sort of lab rat. The food made my stomach turn, but I had to eat something or she might never leave. I reached for the strawberry yogurt and thought of Anna Marie and how she would unconsciously start scratching herself at the sight of a strawberry. Then I opened it, dug my spoon in and shoved a heaping portion of it into my mouth. I tried to smile while the thick sweet gushy mess swished around in my mouth, but suddenly I gagged and I spit everything back up onto the tray of food. Everything was ruined and inedible in my book. Dr. Giadorno grabbed a towel and started cleaning up the mess I made. For some reason, I started crying. Maybe something was wrong with me.

  Will came back a few minutes after Dr. Giadorno left and silently assumed his regular spot on the recliner.

  “I know I’ve lost a little weight, but I don’t have an eating disorder,” I said suddenly after he’d flipped through several TV stations. I don’t know why I was saying this to him. Maybe the silence was getting to me and I wanted at least one of us talking. More likely, though, I felt I needed to convince someone other than myself that I was fine.

  “It’s not only the weight that has people worried,” he said turning the TV off. “It’s your whole attitude around food. For the past few months, everything edible has repulsed you. That’s another reason I believed you were pregnant. I thought it was morning sickness.”

  “Maybe I just … ” I didn’t know what I was about to say. Thankfully, I didn’t have to think of anything because Anna Marie and Raffaele came in.

  “Is your ankle so bad that they’re admitting you?” Anna Marie asked when she had put the flowers she brought in a vase.

  “They’re not admitting me because of my ankle. They think I have an eating disorder. I have to gain at least ten pounds before they even consider releasing me.” Anna Marie and Will exchanged knowing looks. “What?” I said, thinking they knew something I didn’t.

  “Will and I have been concerned about you for a while. It’s not only the eating or not eating. You sleep an extraordinary amount. No seventeen-year-old should sleep that much. We’ve been trying to figure out a way to get you to a doctor. In a way, I’m glad you broke your ankle. It forced you to come to the hospital.”

  I stared at her in disbelief. How could she be glad I broke my ankle? How could one dancer say that to another? She had to be jealous of me. She was jealous that I was better than her. She just wanted to take my place in the company. I told her this in no uncertain terms, making her eyes swell with tears.

  “I know you don’t really mean that,” were her last words before she grabbed Raffaele and fled the room.

  “How could you say that to her?” Will said incredulously. “Anna Marie has put up with so much from you. She’s a true friend, unlike your sister who hurts you time and again, but you continue to forgive and defend her. I don’t understand you lately.”

  Will got up and started to storm out of the room. Before he reached the door, I started crying. Will turned and looked at me. Then he came over to my bed and held me.

  ***

  “So, where were we?” Dr. Giadorno said as she sat on my bed like we were two girlfriends about to have a gossip fest. “Why don’t you tell me more about your sister?”

  I spent the next hour and a half talking about my sister and how I used to think she was perfect. I told her about how she hid her true self from me for years and eventually got me expelled from Bridgeton. And even though I now found it quite embarrassing, I told her how I recently accepted her back into my life and that she had betrayed me once again.
Dr. Giadorno listened intently, providing very few comments except to clarify my Italian once in a while.

  “Why is it that you never ask me about my eating habits or anything like that? Isn’t that why I’m here, because I don’t eat enough?”

  “Usually, there’s an underlying psychological reason why people stop eating. I’m just trying to find out more about you so I can make a clear assessment.”

  “Well, what do you think so far? Am I anorexic or not?” Dr. Giadorno sighed.

  “Honestly, I think you have some self image issues and I think you’re depressed. For so long your self-image was tied up into two things. Dance and your sister. You sister was everything you thought you weren’t. But then she didn’t live up to what you thought she was. Then you move here and you fear you’re not the type of dancer you thought you were. So then you’re left with nothing. You had less than low self image; you had no self image.

  “This was very damaging to your psyche and made you depressed. Then I think you unconsciously latched on to the one thing you thought was preventing you from being the best dancer you could be: Food. Somewhere along the way one of your instructors calling you fat stuck. Unlike most anorexics, I don’t think you made a conscious decision to stop eating. I think it was a manifestation of the depression that has made you sleep an extraordinary amount as well.”

  I wanted to argue with her diagnosis, but I couldn’t. I opened my mouth to dispute what she was saying, but all that came out was, “So, what do I do? What’s going to happen to me?”

  “Well, you’re already making a lot of progress. You’ve been gaining about a pound a week. I tell you what: I’ll give you a nutritional plan. If you follow it for a few days, I’ll discharge you on the condition that you continue to see me once a week. Can you do that?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said excitedly. After five weeks of living in a hospital room I would have agreed to give up a kidney to get out of that place.

  I was in such a good mood that I agreed to go for a walk, well a hobble, with Will around the hospital. It was kind of nice to do something besides lying in bed and moping. I didn’t know how he continued to put up with me.

  “How ‘bout a race?” he challenged while we were outside in the gardens. “And to make things even, I’ll only use one leg.” He held up a pair of crutches he must have borrowed from another a patient. The crutches were a little too short for him. It was going to be hilarious watching him try to use those things.

  “Where?” I said, intrigued by the prospect of showing him up.

  “Around the fountain to those benches and back,” he said pointing.

  “Fine. On your mark, get set, go!” I yelled taking off before I had completed the phrase. I got a good two paces ahead of him before he caught up. His height gave him an unfair advantage. Before long, he had a commanding lead and was increasing it with each forward thrust of his crutches. I knew I would never catch him this way so I threw my crutches down and started hopping. When Will saw I was gaining on him, he threw his crutches down as well and hopped on one foot. In the end, however, my balance and agility paid off and I beat him by a mile. Or, at least by three hops.

  I was doing a few celebratory hops with my fists pumping in the air when Will said breathlessly, “You … cheated … ”

  “No … whining. I beat you … fair and square.” We were exhausted. I could barely stand upright without mycrutches. We held on to each other for support as we hopped back to retrieve them. Then we sat on a bench to catch our breath. A man in a wheelchair gave us a scorn-filled look and called us stupid for hopping around like idiots which made us start laughing hysterically.

  When our laughter died down, Will turned to me, placed his hand at the base of my neck and brought his lips to mine. I didn’t push him away. It was the first time in two months that we had kissed. It was a slow, sweet kiss that was filled with so much emotion it made my stomach do pirouettes and brought tears to my eyes.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered as he rested his forehead on mine.

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  Chapter 28

  Surprise Wedding

  The next day I woke up. I mean I really woke up. I opened my eyes and saw Will sleeping awkwardly on the recliner in the corner of my room. And for the first time in a long time, I really saw him. He had been sleeping on that thing for over a month all because he didn’t want to leave me. Meanwhile, Damian Karl said he would call me every day and I hadn’t heard one word from him.

  And speaking of Damian Karl, Will thought I was pregnant from him yet he still wanted me. He was willing to raise another man’s child just so he could be with me. That was love. That was real love. Not some sort of twisted infatuation like Damian and I had. Will was the one.

  My cast wasn’t scheduled to come off for another week, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from what I was planning. I had to do it before I lost the courage. I called Anna Marie and enlisted her help. Will knew I was up to something, especially since I borrowed his credit card, but he would never guess exactly what.

  “I knew you were throwing me a surprise party,” he said with a broad smile when we entered his house greeted by his teammates and my classmates. “You’re not very good at keeping secrets.”

  “Oh really? Well, I will have you know that this is not a surprise party,” I said with a sly grin. Will looked confused. “It’s a surprise wedding.” He was stunned speechless. “I’ve got all our friends here,” I continued when he didn’t say anything. “I’ve ordered flowers and Anna Marie and Raffaele decorated the patio. I thought we could do it there around the pool. And Raffaele’s father is here, he’s going to do the ceremony. It’s all perfectly legal. I mean, you finished the paperwork months ago.”

  The longer Will stayed silent the more nervous I got. What if he didn’t want me anymore? I just kept rambling to hide my trepidation. “And I thought I could wear the dress I wore to prom last year. You remember the white empire cut dress with the red accents. And I thought you could wear the same tuxedo you wore when you proposed. And cake! There’s even a cake,” I said leading him to the dining room where a white three-tiered wedding cake with red rose petals was waiting.

  Will was still quiet. All the guests started to stare at each other. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, I thought. I was going to be completely humiliated in front of the only 30 people I knew in the country.

  The guests started whispering to themselves as Will continued to stare at the cake in disbelief. Then he turned to me with tears in his eyes and said, “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. I mean … if you still … ” Will interrupted me with a kiss that lifted me off my feet.

  “Let’s have a wedding!” Anna Marie called in Italian. Actually, what she really said was let’s have a nose, but I think everyone knew what she meant.

  Will tried to blink away the tears and seem manly in front of his teammates, but when he saw me walk toward him in my dress he couldn’t hold back any longer. Even my cast that we had decorated with rose petals made him laugh and cry at the same time. Tears were streaming down his face as he repeated what Raffaele’s father told him to say.

  And then it was done. I was Mrs. William Riley Maddox.

  Towards the end of the evening, the party started dying down. People gave us their words of congratulations and left. Eventually, it was just me, Will, Anna Marie and Raffaele. Raffaele was in the middle of one of his stories that seemed to last forever. Will and I kept glancing at each other and smiling knowing what was going to happen next. But we knew it wouldn’t happen if Raffaele kept blabbing about how happy his father was about Maria. He hadn’t realized that the underlying reason why he and his father didn’t get along was that all this time his father thought he was gay. He said he was finally able to sit down and talk to his father and explain that he wasn’t homosexual and that he just enjoyed beautiful things which included beautiful women.

  I tried to throw Anna Marie a look that said ‘get out’
but she didn’t get it. She was completely enthralled with what her boyfriend was saying, hanging on his every word. She could listen to him talk for hours on end which is probably what happened most of the time since he could chat incessantly to anyone about anything. Anna Marie was probably the first woman to not only put up with it but enjoy it.

  Will got up, stretched and yawned, but they still didn’t get the hint. Finally, I said, “You know, I think Anna Marie’s highlights are getting dull.”

  Will picked up on my plan and said, “Yeah, and are those roots I see?”

  Raffaele inspected Anna Marie’s hair closely and agreed it was time for a touch up, so off they went to the store to buy some more dye. I’d never seen a man, a straight man, who loved to play in hair more than Raffaele. It was like Anna Marie was his own personal, living, breathing dress up doll.

  Before the door was even completely closed behind Raffaele and Anna Marie, Will and I were in each other’s arms kissing and tearing clothes off. We bumped into a chair and nearly toppled over before Will swept me up and carried me to the bedroom. Soon we were both naked and rolling around the bed. Then he stopped.

  Oh God what now? I thought. We’re married now. There’s no reason to stop. There’s no need to wait. There’s no one and nothing to interrupt us like runaway llamas.

  But Will wasn’t stopping, he was just getting started. He sat up on one arm and stared at me, whispering his undying love while tracing my curves with his fingertips. Then he began to kiss every inch of me until I was quivering with expectation. Then finally, when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, when I thought I would die of anticipation, we became one. Slowly and steadily, with each thrust, he took me closer and closer to a place I had never been before. Soon we were both shouting out with sheer ecstasy. And after an explosion of warmth, we clung to each other shivering.