When Christmas Eve finally did arrive, Richard sensed her uneasiness and did his best to make her comfortable. “Why don’t you get settled in my room while I take a quick shower?” he suggested.
“Richard, are you sure you want to sleep on the sofa?”
“No, I’d rather sleep in here.” He shot her a playful grin.
“I meant I could sleep on the sofa just as easily.”
“Oh, that’s what you meant,” he chuckled. He sat down beside her on his bed. “Okay, I’ll behave.” He kissed her lightly, and then more deeply. “If you need anything, I’ll be right in there, in the shower. Just shout. I’ll come running right out if you need me,” he said as he got up off the bed. She threw a pillow at him.
Marie changed clothes and retreated to the living room. When the rush of water in the shower suddenly stopped, she could hear him rattling around his bedroom. He emerged wearing only his trousers. She tried not to stare at his strong hairy chest. In his right hand he held up a blue shirt and blue and grey striped tie. In his left were a grey pinstriped shirt and solid black tie. He tilted his head toward her. “Which one?”
She was wearing a black dress with a grey cummerbund-style belt. “I like them both, but if you wear the grey shirt, it might look like we dressed to match each other.” While she kind of liked the idea, she thought that might not be something a man’s man would do.
“Okay.” He hummed an aria from Camille while he finished dressing. He surprised her every time he did something like that. He had no formal training in the fine arts, yet could hum that tune. He hadn’t attended college, but had read books that no high school kid would have ever read. He owned an original Tchelitchew and could talk about the artist. And he could recite poetry.
Richard entered the living room in the grey pinstriped shirt and black tie. A slow smile quickly came to her lips and then to his. That was sweet.
“I’ll get us a couple of drinks, and then I’ll introduce you around,” he said when they arrived at Rosa’s. She waited outside the bar area and watched him as he shook one hand after another, putting his arm around the men, or slapping them on their backs.
While Richard made his rounds, a short jowly man, somewhere in his fifties with massive shoulders and a stomach to match, approached Marie. Unlike every other man in the room, he wore no tie. His shirt lay rumpled beneath his cheap, ill-fitting suit coat, and his pants had long since lost their crease.
“Godalite?” He winked at Marie with a red-rimmed eye and held up a cigar with his sausage-like fingers. Her eyes rolled toward the thick tufts of hair growing out of his ears and the shimmering beads of perspiration on his temples. “I’m sorry, I don’t,” she responded, taking a step back from him. Her eyes darted in the direction of where she had last seen Richard.
“Hey, Guido! Stop harassing my girl!” Richard returned from the bar with a glass of red wine in one hand and something on the rocks in the other.
“I ain’t harassin’ her, Med Man. I was just lookin’ for a light. Whatsamatta? Can’t I even talk to your new boo?”
Richard made quick introductions and then briskly took Marie’s elbow and headed into the main dining room.
“Why did he call you Med Man?”
“I don’t know. Don’t pay any attention to him. He’s crazy.”
When dinner was about to be served, Richard led Marie to two seats in the middle of the nearly fifty-foot-long table. Five waiters carried in massive trays and placed the serving bowls and platters down along the entire length of the table. Turkey, ham, and veal. Mashed, baked, fried, and oven browned potatoes. Beans, peas, corn, and beets. And pasta, all kinds of pasta. Marie looked at Richard and shook her head. The amount of food was overwhelming.
Dinner went on for a full two hours. When the waiters brought in the trays of desserts, everyone groaned, but that didn’t stop them from trying bite-size pieces of tiramisu, cannoli, cassata, and zabaglione.
“I need to visit the restroom. Will you be alright?” Richard asked.
“Yes, of course.”
She watched him walk away from her. He stopped to talk with people along the way, including the social misfit, Guido, who now had a woman on his arm. She was easily a foot taller than he, slim and well dressed. Richard worked the room like a seasoned politician.
“May I sit down?” a woman asked. Tall, loose-limbed, with an oval-shaped face and delicate features, she looked like the kind who was easy on the eyes, but not on the heart. She put her hand on the back of the chair next to Marie, the large diamond ring hard not to notice.
“Of course, please do.” Marie held out her hand. “I’m Marie Costa.”
The woman ignored Marie’s hand, sat down, and looked straight ahead. “Yes, I heard.” Her eyes were cool and expressionless. “I was in your chair last Christmas.”
“Oh?” Marie didn’t know what to expect of Richard’s former girlfriends, but this wasn’t it.
She turned to face Marie and gave her a thin watery smile. “And I can assure you there will likely be someone else there next year.”
Marie tried to look past the glazed smile on her cold face. Even though she was the current girlfriend in Richard’s life, she felt threatened by the woman. “Hmmm. What makes you so sure?”
“Because I know him. How long have you been dating?”
“A few months. Why?”
“You’ll see.”
Marie squirmed in her chair, not knowing what to say next. Richard saved her from having to say anything.
“Hello, Richard. You’re looking handsome as ever.” She smiled a curl of a smile and held out her hand, but then dropped it into her lap when he didn’t take it.
Marie watched Richard’s face tense up. The way his eyes skipped from hers to the other woman’s was telling, and Marie couldn’t help but wonder if the fire was really out between them. He glanced at her ring and said with a cold distant voice, “I think Beatrix is looking for you, Carmela.”
She got up from her chair and turned to Marie. “Nice chatting with you, Marie.” They both watched her walk away with her hips swaying gently from side to side in a confident gait.
“C’mon, Marie.” He reached for her hand. “It’s getting late. Let’s find our hosts and thank them for inviting us.”
“Richard.”
He looked at her.
“Who is she?”
He took her hand and squeezed it. “I’ll tell you all about her when we get home.”
He lit the fire while she opened a bottle of wine. A medley of Cole Porter songs played on the radio. He suggested they get out of their party clothes and into something more comfortable. Her first thought was that things were moving too fast. But on second thought she realized he had been nothing short of a gentleman so far.
They walked to his bedroom. He pulled out a robe from the armoire and pajamas from a dresser drawer and went into the bathroom. “Let me know when you’re ready,” he said from behind the bathroom door, “so I know when it’s safe to come out.”
She quickly undressed, her body tense while she removed her stockings, brassiere, and garter belt. She slipped into her lace-trimmed nightgown, the silky material slowly sliding over her breasts and down the front of her body. Even with the matching robe, she felt underdressed. She looked at her reflection in the mirror above the dresser and down at her breasts, wishing the room wasn’t so cold.
“Okay, you can come out now.”
“You look gorgeous.”
She smiled a bashful smile and turned to go into the living room, where the flames of the fire were playfully licking the logs. The radio played softly in the background.
You do something to me.
Something that simply mystifies me.
They exchanged gifts. His to her was a pearl necklace from Tiffany’s. She had bought him a Guardian Service ice bucket, four crystal wine glasses, and a fine bottle of wine. To add a personal touch, she tucked six mono-grammed handkerchiefs in the ice bucket.
They nestled
into each other’s arms on the sofa and watched the fire.
“This may not be the best time to bring this up, Richard, but you said you would tell me about Carmela.”
He breathed in, slowly exhaled, and then folded his arms loosely across his chest. “Carmela Danza is Beatrix’s niece’s half-sister or something. I dated her for a while.”
“How long is a while?”
“About a year.”
“When did it end?”
“Last June.”
“You weren’t very cordial toward her.”
“No, I suppose I wasn’t,” he admitted. “I broke it off with her, and she was bitter about it. She started badmouthing me to her family, trying to stir things up, and I didn’t appreciate it. It wasn’t a good break-up.”
“Break-ups generally aren’t.”
“You know what I mean. Anyway, I was hoping she wouldn’t be there tonight. What did she say to you?”
“Nothing, really. She just introduced herself and then you came up.”
“She didn’t say anything? That’s not like her. Carmela always has something to say.”
“Hmm. She’s quite attractive.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? No, she’s definitely attractive.”
“She has ugly feet.”
“Richard!”
“Let me see your feet. I may have second thoughts about you, too,” he teased.
She kicked off a slipper and held up her foot.
“Well, that’s a relief.” He shifted to a prone position until the curve of her back and derriere fit snugly into his body like two puzzle pieces. He stroked her arm.
“That was some ring she was wearing.”
“Really? I didn’t notice.” He gave her a playful squeeze. “Can we change the subject?”
“Yes, of course.”
Strange dear, but true dear,
When I’m close to you, dear,
The stars fill the sky,
So in love with you am I.
He held her close and sighed. “This feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Mm-hm.” She pressed her body closer against his, abundantly aware of the breadth of his shoulders.
His fingertips stroked her hair. “Being relaxed like this. By a warm fire.”
“Mm-hm,”
Even without you
My arms fold about you,
You know darling why,
So in love with you am I.
“You lying next to me,” he whispered in her ear, his words curling around her head like smoke.
“Mmmm…” Marie closed her eyes and sighed. She felt like opening up her heart and letting him explore every inch of it.
I’m in love with the night mysterious,
The night when you first were there,
In love with my joy delirious,
When I knew that you could care,
So taunt me, and hurt me,
Deceive me, desert me,
I’m yours till I die,
So in love…So in love…
So in love with you, my love, am I.
“I feel like I’m living inside that Cole Porter song,” he said under his breath. Marie had been listening intently to the words of the song, and now her pulse raced. She turned herself around to face him and locked her eyes with his.
“Marry me,” he said.
* * *
The next morning Marie awoke in the bright sunlight pouring through the window. She stared at the ceiling while she took a few seconds to remember where she was. Expecting to see him next to her, she turned her head, but his side of the bed was empty. She wrapped her arm around his pillow and held it close to her face, the lingering hint of his scent intoxicating.
The last thing she remembered was him holding her as she fell asleep. His hands had flowed over her curves like a stream, his touch slow and gentle at first. He had explored every inch of her body with his hands and then his lips.
The smell of coffee wafting into the bedroom interrupted her thoughts. She listened for several seconds trying to identify the song he was humming. When she did, it brought a smile to her face.
Even without you
My arms fold about you,
You know darling why,
So in love with you am I.
She had a feeling it would become their song.
She appraised herself in the bathroom mirror. No makeup and messy pillow hair. Well, he may as well see now how I look in the morning. She slipped on her robe and entered the kitchen.
“Morning, gorgeous. Sleep well?” he asked without looking up from the kitchen counter where he was preparing breakfast.
She walked up behind him and put her arms around his waist. “I wouldn’t call me that if I were you until you’ve actually seen what I look like first thing in the morning.”
He turned around and looked at her, then put his hands around the back of her head. His stare was long and gentle. “Good morning, gorgeous,” he said with a sweet smile before kissing her. “What would you like in your omelet?”
They looked across from each other as they ate, neither one saying anything about what had happened the night before. Marie finally broke the silence.
“I didn’t hear you get up this morning.”
“I’m sneaky that way,” he said with a smile, not looking up.
“It took me a minute when I woke up to realize where I was.”
“I know the feeling. It happens to me all the time when I travel.”
“Then it took me another minute to recall what we did last night.” She looked up to see his reaction. His eyes met hers.
“Any regrets?”
Marie shook her head imperceptibly. “No. No regrets.” She paused for a few seconds, her gaze straying downward. “It just happened so fast.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll try to slow it down next time.”
“No, not that!”
He tilted his head and looked at her with a soft smile. “What then?”
“What I meant was we’ve only known each other for three months, and now you’ve asked me to marry you.”
“And you said, yes.”
“I know. Like I said, it’s all happening so fast.”
He gave her a comforting glance. “Do you want to forget last night ever happened and slow everything down?”
She knew full well she had already lost her heart to him. “No. I don’t want that, either.”
“Maybe you just need time for this to sink in,” he said.
“I think maybe I do.”
“Tell you what. It’s been snowing all night, and there’s got to be about a foot of it on the walks and in front of my garage. I’m going to go out and shovel. Do you mind cleaning up the kitchen?”
“No. Not at all.” And she meant it. She did her best thinking while preoccupied with something mundane.
“I love you, Miss Costa. But I think I may have known that the first minute I ever laid eyes on you.”
“I love you, too.”
The morning air was crisp and cold as it rushed Marie’s face when she went outside to check on Richard’s progress. His back toward her, he busily shoveled the sidewalk. She picked up snow in both hands and molded it into a small hard ball. THWACK! Her aim was better than she thought it would be.
Richard slowly straightened up, his back still towards her. THWACK! This one came from another direction. THWACK! THWACK! Two more hit him. Marie took a few steps forward to see where they were coming from.
Two small boys stood in the next-door neighbor’s yard laughing hysterically. Richard dropped his shovel and reached down for a handful of snow. “Run!” yelled one of the boys.
“Come here you little varmints,” Richard shouted, running into the neighbor’s side yard. “I’ll get you for that!”
Pretty soon the two boys came round the front of their house shouting singsong taunts, egging Richard on for more childish horseplay. “Nah, nah. You can’t get us. We can run faster than you!”
The smaller chi
ld couldn’t keep up with his older brother. The poor kid had on so many layers of clothes, he could hardly run at all. Richard caught up with him, picked him up, and swung him around. “Ha! I caught you, you little imp, and now you’re going to pay!”
“I didn’t hit you, my brother did,” the small boy pleaded. The two of them tumbled into the snow. It didn’t take long for the other boy to pounce on top of them. Marie watched Richard interact with the children. It was hard not to smile. It was hard not to imagine what life could be like living with this man, raising children with him, growing old together.
Marie had formulated her fantasy family early in her childhood when she dreamed what it would be like to have siblings. She still had the dream, but now her wish to have siblings was replaced with the hope to have children, and she couldn’t think of anyone she would rather do it with more than the man playing in the snow.
Richard broke away from the boys and interrupted Marie’s thoughts. “You started this, you know.” Each boy clung on to one of his arms.
“Yes, I know. Isn’t it fun?” She walked closer to where they were playing and flung the snowball she had hidden behind her back at him. It hit him squarely on the forehead and slowly dripped down his face. The boys roared with laughter.
“You’re going to get it now!” the older boy shouted at her.
Richard stood there expressionless as he licked the melted snow that slowly ran down to his mouth. He squinted and pursed his lips. “Love you,” he mouthed.
“You better stop fooling around.” Marie pointed to the section of sidewalk that was still covered in a foot of snow. “You’ve still got a lot of work to do!” With that she retreated to his apartment.
They went to the Christmas church service and then drove home in silence, she thinking about whether she was ready to marry him and afraid he was already mentally planning the event. That evening they sat slightly apart on the sofa while dinner was cooking. Marie looked through the window at the snow falling. The flakes were larger and falling more slowly than earlier.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked.
She smiled as she searched for the right words. “I was thinking about something you said last night.”
The Coach House Page 7