“It’s just dinner, Karen. And I’m not even sure if he’s my type.”
“Oh really? And what exactly is your type?”
Marie’s mouth went into an instant smile. Both women knew she didn’t have an answer to that question. “For one thing, when I told him I was separated but still married, he referred to me as a California widow.”
“What does that mean?”
“I have no idea. I was afraid to ask. And when I described Richard to him, he called him a regular flannel mouth.”
“Huh?”
“It must be a whole other language.”
“A real cowboy then?”
“I guess.”
“Well, it doesn’t take away from that handsome face of his, and those tight jeans. Whew!”
“Cool down, Karen.”
“Well, I just can’t stand to see you alone. You have so much to offer someone. And that someone is out there. I just know it. Someone who will accept you for all that you are, including who your father is. Maybe that’s Ted.”
“Tell me, why do you think Paul was interested in me even after I told him about my father?”
“Honestly? I think he had never met anyone like you before—college-educated, gorgeous, and secretly colored—and that was exciting for him.”
“Really?” Marie pondered Karen’s rationale. “What do you think the odds are of meeting the true love of your life? And just how many frogs do you think you have to kiss before you find him?”
“Who knows? Maybe hundreds. Or maybe he’s right under your nose, and you don’t even know it. My mother used to say, ‘What’s meant to be will always find its way.’ I think she was right.”
“Maybe. How are things going with you and Maurice these days?”
A vivid red blush crept up Karen’s neck. She smiled.
“Okay, tell me. What’s going on?”
“He told me he loved me.”
“And you said?”
“I told him back.”
“I knew there was something different about you today! I’m so happy for you. What about his wacky mother?”
“I’m trying to ignore that. Makes things a lot easier. And he told me if it ever came down to it, he would choose me over his mother.”
“You two make a great couple, you know that? So how much chocolate have you eaten this past month?”
“Shut up, Marie.”
Ted picked Marie up the following Friday in his pickup truck. He was wearing jeans, boots, and a cowboy shirt. She came to the door in a silk dress and three-inch heels. As soon as they saw each other, they both laughed.
“I’ll go change,” she said. Ted waited in his truck.
They went to a restaurant/bar on the outskirts of Hiawatha where everyone seemed to know Ted. He led Marie to a table in the middle of the room, near the bar, where he promptly sat down. Used to a man pulling out the chair for her, she tried to overlook it. Maybe it wasn’t a cowboy thing to do.
“They do a bang-up job here with their chuck wagon stew. And their biscuit pie is fine as cream gravy. Do you want a beer?”
This wasn’t going to work.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” she told him.
When the waitress brought two beers and chuck wagon stew, Ted held up his bottle and said, “Here’s how!”
It was going to be a long evening.
Between Ted’s cowboy lingo and the boisterous bar activity, Marie understood only about half of what he said during dinner. Toward the end of their meal, when he told her they should probably get a wiggle on, she admitted to herself she liked this man’s personality and character, but definitely not as a love interest.
Ted pulled his truck up in front of Marie’s apartment. She reached for the door handle, but he gently grasped her other arm and said, “Can we talk a spell?”
Marie turned to face him. “Sure.”
“I like you.” He had the calmest deep brown eyes.
“I like you too, Ted.”
“But not as your home-skillet.”
She wasn’t familiar with the expression, but based on the connotation, she figured it meant something like boyfriend/girlfriend. “I agree.”
“Whew! What a relief.” His smile was wide. “The whole time we were talkin’ through dinner, I was thinkin’, ‘I wonder if she’s thinkin’ the same thing I’m thinkin’.’” He grinned. “When it comes to understanding women, I’m afraid I’m usually pretty much lost at sea.”
Taken in by his innocent charm, Marie couldn’t help but smile. “Then we’re on the same page?”
“I think so. How about if we go riding sometime?”
“I’d like that.”
He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Good night.”
“Good night, Ted.”
“Hey, and just remember, I’m someone you can always ride the river with, so if you ever need anything, anything at all, you call on me. Ya hear?”
Marie smiled. “You can count on that, Ted. Good night.”
“So how did your date go?” Karen asked the next day.
“Oh, we had a real hog-killin’ good time.”
“That bad, huh?”
“No, it wasn’t bad at all. In fact, I rather enjoyed it. And he did too. But we both decided when he dropped me off afterward—in his freshly washed pickup truck, I might add—that we’re probably better off as just friends.”
“It’s nice to have a good male friend.”
“I think so too. Hey, do you want to come over Monday night? There’s a new television show everyone is talking about called I Love Lucy.”
“I’ll bring the wine.”
The divorce papers were served to Marie at her studio. After immediately informing her attorney, she phoned Jonathan.
“You’re going to sign them, right?” Jonathan asked her.
“Yes. I am definitely going to sign them.”
“What did he charge you with?”
“Abandonment.”
“I would take it and run.”
“I’m going to.”
“Claire wants to talk with you. I’ll talk to you later. Congratulations, Marie. I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”
Claire got on the phone. “Marie, will you be spending Thanksgiving with us this year?”
“Yes, I will.” It would be her third Thanksgiving spent with them.
“And what about Christmas?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Well, we would be thrilled if you could spend the month with us—the month between Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
Her heart raced. “Oh my. Uh…let me give that some thought, Claire. What a wonderful invitation. The only reason I’m hesitating is because I have a business to run and customers who wait until the last minute to get their homes ready for the holidays. This is a very busy time of the year for me.”
“I understand.” The disappointment in her voice was obvious.
Marie had managed to build a successful business despite predictable odds for the times, and putting it in possible jeopardy by taking a month off wasn’t something she wanted to do. But spending a month with her family had the potential of enriching her life as nothing else could. Somehow she would make this work.
“Claire, my staff will just have to handle things while I’m gone. Yes. I would love to stay the month.”
“Wonderful. You and Jonathan can work out the details. And Marie…”
“Yes?”
“There’s someone besides your family who will be thrilled with your visit.”
“Is she fourteen and talks in teenager?”
“You guessed it. Ben brings her around every once in awhile, and you’re all she asks about.”
“That’s interesting because she plays it pretty cool in her letters and our occasional phone calls. Any word from her mother?”
“No. Not a word.”
“Well, please tell Rachael I’m looking forward to seeing her, and maybe we can do a few things together while I’m there.”<
br />
“I can hear the squeal now. I don’t think I’ll tell her just yet. If I do, she’ll be calling me every other day to see if I know anything more about when you’ll be here.”
“Good idea.”
Marie didn’t have to wait long to find out the court date, which was set for November 16, three days before she was to leave for St. Charles to be with her family for the holidays. She asked Karen if she would go with her for moral support, and Karen readily agreed.
They flew into Chicago the morning of the trial. Marie met with her attorney at the courthouse a half hour before they were scheduled to go in the courtroom. Karen sat on a bench down the hall.
Cavanaugh explained how the proceedings would go. He told her the whole case shouldn’t take any more than a half hour.
“What if he changes his mind?”
He gave her a puzzled look. “He was the one who filed.” He flipped the document in his hands to the last page. “And he signed it.”
“I’m just trying to think of all possibilities.”
“I understand. But I’ve been in touch with his attorney. In fact, I know him.”
“Really? What’s he like?”
“Let’s just say he’s not someone I would ever play a round of golf with. Anyway, everything seems to be in order.” A clerk came out of the courtroom and told them to come in. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Richard wore a navy blue pinstriped suit, bright white shirt, and perfectly knotted striped tie. He looked at Marie with a somber expression. Standing beside him was his attorney, who reminded Marie of one of the many characters Richard had brought into their home from time to time—dark slicked-back hair, shiny suit, and a large diamond pinky ring. He presented Richard’s case, and when he went on and on about Marie’s abandonment, Richard cleared his throat loudly as if to say, “Enough.”
Marie swiped the palms of her hands on her dress before taking her seat on the witness stand. While she had no intention of denying she had left Richard, her attorney had advised her she would likely be asked why she left him. She needed to reveal enough to justify her leaving, but not so much as to incriminate him. And she had to be truthful.
“Tell me why you left Mr. Marchetti,” the judge said.
“I left, your honor, because of my husband’s business.”
The judge peered down at the papers on his desk and then at her. “He sells medical equipment. You had a problem with that?”
“You see, in his business he has to meet with all kinds of people, attend all kinds of functions, and I just didn’t feel comfortable around them. I didn’t understand what he was doing half the time.”
The judge glanced at Richard and then his attorney. Marie was certain Richard’s attorney gave the judge some kind of signal with his facial expression. “You may leave the stand, Mrs. Marchetti. Divorce granted.”
The proceeding lasted just twenty minutes. Marie joined her attorney and walked toward the door, but before they reached it, Richard approached them.
“May I have a private word with your client, Mr. Cavanaugh?”
Cavanaugh turned to Marie with a questioning look.
“It’s okay,” Marie said. “I would like a moment with Richard if that’s okay.”
“I’ll wait for you in the hallway.”
Richard led the way to the back row of spectator seats and waited for Marie to sit down. He sat down next to her. He didn’t say anything at first; he merely focused on her with the same endearing eyes she remembered from when she was with him during the good times.
“I still love you. I want you to know that.” His voice was soft, and his words came slowly.
“I know.”
“This doesn’t have to be it, you know.”
“Yes, it does.”
He stared deep into her eyes and then past her. After a few seconds, he looked back at her and said, “I want to be there for you.”
She looked at him, puzzled.
“You’re going through a difficult time right now. I can be there for you. I want to be there for you.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Marie, it can’t be easy dealing with who your father is. I’ve met him, and he seems like a decent enough man, but it doesn’t matter how decent he is, he’s still a Negro, and so are you.” Jonathan had told her how Richard had finagled his way into a dinner party at his home two years earlier by posing as someone interested in horses. “I can help you with that. You need help with that.”
Richard had always taken exceptionally good care of her physical and material needs, but had never shown such consideration toward her emotional needs. She shook her head. “I’m handling things just fine.”
He stared into her eyes for several seconds, then got up and left. Marie took in a deep breath of air and sat alone for a minute before joining Karen and her attorney.
“Everything okay?” Cavanaugh asked.
“Yes. Everything is okay.”
He reached out for her hand. “Congratulations, Marie.”
“Thank you.”
Marie didn’t say anything on the way back to their hotel room, and Karen didn’t ask any questions. Once in their room, Marie called for room service and ordered a snack for the two of them, including a bottle of wine. She then went into the bathroom and had herself a good cry. When she came out ten minutes later, Karen was waiting for her.
“You okay?”
Marie nodded. “I just needed to get that out of my system.” She sat down in the chair across from Karen. “I don’t know why I cried like that. This is what I wanted.”
“What did he say to you? If you don’t mind saying, that is.”
Marie told her about their conversation.
“Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow.” Marie heaved a healthy amount of air out of her lungs. “He was like a totally different person.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know. It almost seems like when he finally realized there wasn’t any way I would be coming back to him—and that took three and a half years, I might add—he saw that he didn’t control me, and I don’t know…it was like there was this other person inside who took over.”
“Like a broken soul?”
“No, more like he conceded, and once he did that, he could take off his game face.” She stared past Karen, out the window.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m curious about who that other person is.”
“Marie, you aren’t…”
“No, I’m not thinking of finding out.” I’m not, am I? “I’m just curious, that’s all. I lived with the man for over two years, and I never saw that side of him.” She looked at Karen. “I know you’re probably not going to understand this, but deep down, he’s not a bad person.”
Karen gave Marie a disparaging look.
“And you know what I hope for him?” Marie went on.
“What?”
“I hope he figures out someday how to live his life without that game face.”
“To thine own self be true?”
Marie nodded. “Something like that.”
After Marie returned home, she thought about why she cried so hard back in the hotel room. It unnerved her to think it was because of the finality of their relationship. She didn’t want that to be the reason after all she had gone through to get to that point. But her mind kept going back to Richard’s words after the trial, his demeanor, his compassion.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been compassionate when they were together, she thought. But this compassion was different somehow. She thought back to when they were together, before he’d gotten in so deep with the unsavory cast of characters he referred to as his business associates. She went back to the good times. He had compassion back then, lots of it. Or had he? No, that wasn’t compassion. It was passion. He lacked compassion. She wondered why she had never realized that about him before.
She was pretty sure her crying jag had no
thing to do with Richard, but it had everything to do with now being totally free to pursue other love interests…and confront her ethnicity head-on.
To thine own self be true? Marie knew she would have to figure that out completely before she could ever have a meaningful relationship with anyone.
CHAPTER 21
Champions
Karen came over to help Marie pack for her six-week visit at Jonathan’s.
“How are you going to pack six week’s worth of clothes into one suitcase?”
“I’m not. I’ve got two.”
“Isn’t that kind of hard, managing two suitcases on the plane?”
Marie turned to Karen and smiled. “I didn’t tell you. Rachael talked her dad and Jonathan into having Jonathan’s driver pick me up, and…”
“And she’s coming with.”
“You guessed it.”
“She’s a little hustler.”
“She is so excited about my being there for six whole weeks, she can’t stand it. I talked to her yesterday, and she must have said the word ‘crazy’ a hundred times.”
Marie put the last of her things in the second suitcase and poured them each another glass of wine before relaxing in the living room.
“I’m going to miss you,” Karen said.
“Aw…you’ve got Maurice.”
Karen looked at Marie with a deadpan face.
“What?”
“I haven’t talked to him all week.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Found out his daughter Hannah isn’t his only child.”
“What?”
“Apparently he had an affair with another woman when Hannah was just two, and she had a baby.”
“What? Did he just find this out?”
“No.” Karen teared up. “He’s been sending her money for years.”
“Karen, I am so sorry.” Marie put her arms around her as she sobbed.
“But I loved him,” she wailed into Marie’s shoulder.
“I know you did, hon.” Marie left the embrace and looked into Karen’s eyes. “And you still do, right?”
Karen sighed. “I don’t know.” She swiped the tears from her face. “It was one thing to not tell me he was Jewish, and then of course there’s his insane mother he could have told me about sooner, but this…this is something else. He should have told me about her long before this.”
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