My bottom lip quivered, and my shoulders began to heave. I tried, but I couldn’t stop the tears from coming, again. I think I needed a serious tear duct adjustment.
“Julie,” Matt whispered, folding me into his arms. “Julie, honey, what’s wrong?”
Matt was holding me close, but I crossed my arms against my stomach in a defensive move.
“I have to go to sleep,” I said stubbornly, untangling myself from his arms and pulling the covers over my head, like an ostrich. “So just leave me alone, please.”
I knew that I was merely postponing the inevitable, putting off a number of unresolved complications—mainly doubts about my marriage. Was I secretly trying to put distance between myself and my new husband? I knew I was avoiding the biggest issue of all—how was I going to be able to cope with a new baby? And the loss of the one man I truly loved.
As I drifted off to sleep, all I could think about was the way I felt in Manny’s arms on that night so long ago in Jacksonville Beach and, more recently, in the hotel room on Key Biscayne, replaying every moment we had spent with each other. I was a horrible wife. I hoped I would make a better mother.
****
When I finally returned to the shop, I reluctantly took a call from Manny at the end of an exhausting day.
“I miss you,” he announced in a rush.
“This is not an appropriate conversation,” I cautioned. “I’m married now.”
“Don’t pretend you’re offended,” he mumbled.
“You’re a vulture,” I accused.
“I really am sorry for the way things worked out between us,” Manny said, genuinely apologetic.
“It’s too late for regrets, don’t you think? Goodbye. And stop calling me.”
I held the phone and listened to the dial tone before I placed the receiver gingerly back in the cradle. When I did, Matt called. He sounded intense and possessive. He was crowding me when what I needed was some space to think about my life.
“When are you coming home?” he asked anxiously. “I can leave work now and pick you up.”
“I have my car here. I’ll drive home. To tell you the truth, I’m really swamped. I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on before the opening.” I wondered if Matt could tell I was stalling. Mercedes was already turning off the lights.
“Technically we’re still on our honeymoon,” Matt pleaded. “We never really got a honeymoon, Julie. Please don’t shut me out.”
“Okay,” I relented, realizing that marriage was all about compromise.
When I walked in the door of our apartment, Matt welcomed me home and wrapped me in his arms.
“Did you miss me today?” he asked.
“I just saw you this morning.”
“Julie, honey, I missed you, so much,” he said, trying to steer me into the bedroom and obviously hoping I would say it back.
“And now that you’re home, you can show me just how much,” he added, lowering his voice and staring at me longingly with his piercing green eyes.
Matt shut the bedroom door behind me, giving me a long, slow kiss.
“God, Julie, you look good enough to eat, but I brought dinner in for us,” he said. “I think dinner will have to keep until we’ve had a chance to catch up.”
His kiss heated up, and I kissed him back. He slipped out of his clothes and stood before me in front of the bed.
I looked into his eyes to steady myself as he reached out to pull me into bed with him. He removed my dress and kissed me hungrily, moving me onto the bed. Slowing the pace a little, he pulled off my panties and began to touch me gently, slowly, methodically, until I was aroused, gasping in delight. He kissed me greedily again and entered me firmly, almost roughly, until he came inside me in a rush of passion. Being married would take some getting used to, but it wasn’t turning out to be so bad.
Matt and I began our marriage together trying to work out a rhythm we could live with. I knew I would be fine as long as I stayed away from Manny and focused on letting go of the memories. There were several times I was tempted to take his calls, but I knew that if I heard his voice again I would capitulate. I was still that vulnerable.
The next afternoon the insistent ringing of the telephone distracted me. It was Manny. He sounded agitated and preoccupied. He definitely had something on his mind. Was he thinking about the baby growing inside of me and wondering, maybe wishing, that it had been his? Or was that just wishful thinking on my part?
Over the past eight and a half months, I had often fantasized about telling Manny the baby was his and imagined his reaction, wondered how different things would be if only I had.
“I have to see you, Julie.”
“No,” I said, trying to fight back my desire to see him again. “Can’t stop. Can’t talk. Too busy. Not today.”
“Make time for me, Julie,” he ordered, with his typical dramatic sense of urgency. “I’m standing at the pay phone right outside the shop. I’m coming in.”
I gripped the counter of my desk and twisted the telephone cord. I couldn’t leave the shop. I was alone there and about to close up. I had no choice but to face him.
As soon as I saw him, I could tell there was something very wrong. And, married or not, the urge to tell him what I had been keeping from him was clawing at my insides to get out. Spilling my secret would have dangerous consequences, but I couldn’t fight it any more. I hadn’t gotten pregnant by myself. I couldn’t keep it from him any longer. It was time. If I didn’t speak up now, and clear my conscience, I’d wonder about it for the rest of my life.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I said in a rush.
“Good, because I have something to tell you, too,” Manny said, wiping the perspiration from his brow with his long-sleeved white shirt.
“You’d better go first,” I said, starting to lose my nerve.
“I went to look at a house yesterday,” he began. “It has a beautiful view of the Bay. Plenty of rooms. Very upscale.”
“A fancy mansion, then,” I said, offering him only a shadow of a smile. “But why do you need so much room?” And suddenly I knew why, and the bottom dropped out of my stomach.
“Julie, Nita and I are getting married. I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else.”
I was stunned, but I shouldn’t have been so shocked when the announcement knocked the breath out of me with the unexpected force of a one-two punch to the gut.
“She wants to have a baby right away,” he said miserably, staring at my stomach. Nita wanted everything I had, and everything I didn’t have.
I was already busy imagining Manny and Nita together, tumbling naked in their bed, the White Witch slithering under him and his lips coaxing her lips apart and tangling with her serpent’s tongue, his brown eyes searing hers. And then a smiling Manny holding his child, their child. I couldn’t get the distressing pictures out of my mind. I had to get out of the store before I became ill. I rushed toward the door, and then my tears started flowing.
“Julie, wait,” he said getting up to follow me. “I’m sorry, really.”
“Don’t. Come. After. Me. Don’t try to see me. It’s over.” Was I insane? Of course it was over. It had ended the day I got married. Was I ever going to come to grips with that fact?
“What is it you wanted to tell me?” he asked, suddenly remembering.
I choked on my bitter laughter, and I could feel the bile rising in my throat. I wasn’t going to make it to the car in time. I ran for the bathroom, locked myself in, and vomited.
“Nothing,” I called out. “Nothing at all.” I composed myself. “Just go away.”
I watched from the tiny bathroom window as Manny’s car crawled out of the parking lot. I lingered in my office, not quite ready to go home and face Matt. I was so exhausted I sat down in my comfortable chair, clutching my medallion, crying, and aching inside. It was the end of an impossible dream. Now that there was no hope at all, I was resigned to going home to Matt and making my marriage work. I rubbed m
y swollen belly, whispering repeatedly, “It will be okay, baby, we’ll be okay.”
Chapter Twenty-One:
A Fresh Beginning
Coral Gables, Florida
I was singing along with the salsa band warming up in the corner as I surveyed the room for a final time. Everything was ready for the opening. The mood was set. I had achieved the perfect balance between hot and cold. The music was pulsing. In contrast, the room was lit to glow like moonlight, for a cool and elegant effect. The jewels in the Estrella Collection glinted in their specially designed display cases in the center of the room, heralded by the alternating vertical Estrella Collection flags and jade-green Stones banners.
Models wearing fashions from some of the trendiest boutiques in the city and accessorized in the latest jewelry creations from Stones were already circulating. Heavy hors d’oeuvres featuring spicy food with Cuban and Spanish flavors were being passed. The bars were set up and already serving the early arrivals. The massive ice sculpture spelling out Stones was attracting attention.
I was most proud of the way the Estrella Collection brochures had turned out. They were neatly stacked near the display case. I’d spent weeks researching the pieces in the collection and supplementing the descriptions with a bit of Spanish history from the period. Interviewing Elena for personal stories was really a labor of love. I wrote the copy and supervised the photo shoot with Manny’s sister Estrellita in the gardens at Vizcaya. Estrellita’s photo graced the cover, and she modeled most of the signature pieces on the inside pages. Some of the pieces were displayed in the gardens. The full-color catalog was destined to become a collector’s item. Antonio, one of the hottest photographers in the city, had done a fabulous job. Tonight he only had eyes for Estrellita. He never let her out of his sight the entire evening, and she was blossoming under his attention, shedding some of her shyness.
Elena was surrounded by reporters curious about the collection. I was overwhelmed by the media response. Cameras and reporters from local, national, even the international fashion press were on hand to cover the event. The sales staff couldn’t take the orders fast enough.
The décor was understated and dynamic. The selection of jewelry was the best we’d ever offered—collection quality gems, spectacular stones with the best color and clarity, from international jewelry designers and dealers.
The counter at the front of the store displayed trends of the season and the most coveted jewels in the shop. White gold and platinum pieces were housed in one case and yellow gold in another. The shop carried all the contemporary styles with clean, classic lines as well as antiques. A trunk show featuring a popular jewelry designer displayed more modern lines and newer looks that I predicted would outpace the old-fashioned, traditional ones in sales.
We offered just the right assortment of merchandise, a good value, and excellent service to ensure that customers could always find what they wanted at Stones.
“So, Mrs. Gottlieb, what do you think of the new Stones,” I prompted, cornering my best customer. “Is it up to your expectations? Or do you miss Goldsmith’s?”
“The shop is fabulous. I’ve already seen several pieces I have to have. But don’t tell my husband. I’m going to buy them and introduce them gradually over a six-month period. Then when he asks me if what I’m wearing is new I can honestly say, ‘This old thing? I’ve had it forever.’ ”
“That’s the way to handle Harvey, Mrs. Gottlieb.” I laughed. It was a ruse many of my female customers used, and their husbands fell for it every time. I had used it myself on Matt, who had never understood my fascination with jewelry.
Mrs. Gottlieb had her eye on an exceptional, absolutely breathtaking ten-carat canary diamond I was featuring in one of the display cases at the front of the store. The rare, emerald-cut, flawless stone was magnificently set, with baguette sides in platinum. I took the key out of my handbag and opened the case. First, I put the ring on my finger. I held my hand up so the jewel reflected the artificial light in the room. It was elegant and cool. This rock would have glowed in the dark.
“It’s absolutely gorgeous,” Mrs. Gottlieb breathed.
“Would you like to take it off my hands?”
The cut was marvelous. The stone sparkled like sun-kissed waves breaking on a beach. A million stars were captured in that stone; it glittered with the look and feel of luxurious bath beads. The piece would be unaffordable for most clients. But not for Mrs. Gottlieb.
“Why don’t you try it on?”
I gingerly lifted the ring off my finger and slipped it on Mrs. Gottlieb’s hand.
“It looks great on you. Why don’t you wear it around the party for a while and get the feel of it?”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“No, of course not. I have to admit, I’d like to own that stone myself. But I don’t think Matt would be able to afford it.”
“By the way, where is that handsome husband of yours?” Mrs. Gottlieb asked.
“Matt?”
“Is he the one standing over there with the beautiful cover girl in the brochure?”
I gazed at Manny in his tuxedo.
“He is handsome, isn’t he?” He looked over at me and smiled, displaying his dimples, and I involuntarily blushed at the sight of him.
“No, he’s not my husband. We’re just good friends.”
“I thought, I mean the way he’s been looking at you all evening…”
I directed her to Matt. “That’s my husband.”
“He’s a nice-looking boy too,” she said, trying to recover gracefully.
I smiled.
“And now you’re about to have a baby. My, how time flies,” Mrs. Gottlieb fussed. “I remember when you were just a little girl yourself, coming into the shop in Westchester to help your mother. Soon maybe you’ll have a daughter to follow in your footsteps.”
“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”
“When is the baby due?”
“In two weeks, but it feels like it may be any day now,” I said, shifting my feet and placing my hand behind my back for support. Matt noticed my discomfort and came right over to rub my back in a gloriously soothing motion.
“Honey, are you okay? I think you should sit down now. You’ve been on your feet all day. It’s not good for the baby.”
“You worry too much.” I smiled. Things had been much better between us lately, now that I had given myself more than half a chance to care for him.
“I do worry about you, Julie. You have to take it easy. After the opening, that’s it. Maggie can help Joel in the shop for a while. You’ll have to hire some extra help, from the look of tonight’s turnout.”
I looked over at my sister-in-law with appreciation. Maggie was a jewel. Joel was a graduate gemologist and a gifted jewelry designer. He knew almost everything there was to know about the design and production of precious gems. So he’d had no trouble recognizing one when Mary Margaret Monteleone walked into Goldsmith’s one Saturday.
After she eyed every piece of jewelry in the store, my brother asked, “Did you find anything you just can’t live without?” As it turned out, the one thing Maggie couldn’t live without was Joel.
At that moment Manny came over to join us.
“You should be proud of yourself. Stones is going to be an overnight success.”
“You made quite a contribution,” I said, crediting Manny. “If it weren’t for you we wouldn’t even have this space. You helped me with every aspect of the concept and design. You were with me every step of the way. Thank you.”
“And I will be with you from now on,” Matt said, planting a possessive kiss firmly on my lips. He enjoyed watching Manny squirm.
“Estrellita is really enjoying the spotlight,” Manny said, trying to ignore the obvious display of affection between Matt and me. “But I think that photographer is monopolizing all her time. Is that a good idea? She thinks she’s in love. But she practically just met the guy.”
“Did you ever stop and think that may
be they really are in love?” I ventured.
“She’s too young to know anything about love. Too innocent.”
I laughed.
“You think it’s funny?” Manny asked, and I could tell he was struggling to keep his cool.
“No, it’s just that she’s your twin sister. She’s exactly your age, and maybe she does know something about love. Haven’t you ever been in love?” I speared him with my eyes, waiting for his answer.
“That’s different. I’ve been around.”
“Ah, yes, we all know that,” I said, rolling my eyes. “What’s good for the gander isn’t good for the goose, is that what you’re saying?”
“You’re talking about my sister.”
“She’s also a grown woman, Manny. Or hadn’t you noticed?”
“Well I’m going to start keeping a closer eye on her from now on, I can tell you that. He’s nothing but a Latin lover.”
“And he would be different from you, how?” I laughed, finally comfortable joking with him about our past. “Look at the guy, Manny. He’s a hunk,” I said. “Yes, it’s a good idea. And he’s very successful and actually a pretty great man.”
“And what about me?” Matt said, fishing for a compliment. “Am I a hunk?”
“God, yes,” I laughed and ruffled my fingers through Matt’s wiry hair. “You are to me. I can hardly keep my eyes off you. I was just saying as much to Mrs. Gottlieb.”
Matt beamed. “And I can hardly keep my hands off my sexy wife. I just want to make sure you’re satisfied.”
Manny looked like he was going to be sick. Watching the two of them reminded me of their jealous bickering at Opal Weekend. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Matt,” I chided. “I’m hardly sexy. I’ll be happy when this baby finally makes an appearance. I don’t think I could get any bigger. As it is, I’m as huge as a house.”
“You never looked more beautiful to me,” Matt said, patting my stomach and rubbing it in a seductive, circular motion. Manny’s eyes were fixed on Matt’s hand on my stomach as if he were watching a train wreck and couldn’t look away.
“That’s sweet, but I know I’m a cow.”
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