It had been too long.
Too long since she and Steven had time, just to themselves; time to enjoy the rare meal out while her mother watched Shannen Rose.
Too long since they’d had the opportunity to share a simple, uninterrupted conversation, just the two of them. She loved her mother, she did, but sometimes Liraz didn’t know when to quit. As soon as Steven left in the morning, more often than not, her mother would come and ask her questions she, more often than not, had no answers to.
Too long since they’d been to either Steuben’s or The Hi Da Way, another favorite treat. The proprietors of both had always been welcoming. So, for the one or two times a year they were able to sit down to a nice dinner, just on their own, they visited these two restaurants.
Steven was already waiting for her when she reached their table, and they shared a smile.
“I’ve already ordered for both of us,” he told her as she sat, unfolded her napkin and set it in her lap. “I hope you’re good with a Babe Rubenstein?”
“That will do,” she said, trying not to cringe. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
She knew that the corned beef brisket, chopped chicken liver and vegetables on rye sandwich was his favorite, so she tried not to complain. It isn’t what she’d had in mind – preferring the ox tongue and Swiss Shubert instead – but what was the point of ruining a perfectly good evening out together? And a holiday, at that?
There was a twinkle in Steven’s eye she had not seen in weeks, which set her heart aflutter and her mind at ease. He reached for her hands, squeezing them a moment before letting go. A tingle coursed through her veins at his touch; a tingle she barely remembered, from back when he took time to woo her, and not merely to ask her questions and offer her advice.
Their waiter – a short, somewhat round man, half-bald, with eyes so brown they looked black in the dim lighting – delivered water and along with it, their sandwiches.
After a quick prayer, Shannen took a tentative bite: it was the Shubert, and not the Babe Rubenstein. She sighed in pleasure as he began to laugh.
And it was a hearty laugh. A laugh she had not heard in months. A laugh she had missed, and was thankful for. And as he laughed, she joined him, not caring that patrons from surrounding tables were watching them now.
It felt like old times, and something within her buoyed.
Well, maybe he’s straightened everything out now, she thought. Whatever it was that he’d been using the excess money for; whatever it was that had been distracting him… maybe it’s dissipating. Maybe he’s becoming himself again.
“I have something for you,” he suddenly told her as she moved to take another bite of her sandwich.
His food still lay untouched, and his eyes were focused on her.
“You have…?”
“I, um… I’ve been saving up for it a while now, and that’s why it seemed, perhaps, I was keeping a secret. Because I was. I…”
He stood then, suddenly towering over her, and took something out of his pocket, quickly putting it behind his back.
“Open your hands and close your eyes,” he told her, the twinkle back in his eye.
After a moment’s hesitation and a sip of water, she complied.
What’s gotten into him, Lord? In these years we’ve been together, I don’t’ recall a single time he’s purposely gone to find something just for me. Everything has been so practical, which is nice – and good for the family – but for once, it would be nice for him to do something simply because he cares. Not that I’m complaining, mind you, she prayed as she felt a long, slender box slide into her hands.
How many things came in boxes this size?
She had seen them in store windows, but had never dreamed she would ever receive one.
“You can open your eyes now,” she heard Steven tell her. He was just sitting down as her eyes fluttered back open, and finally, he took a bite of his sandwich.
“Go ahead, now,” he told her, his jaw jutting toward her a moment. “I got it so you could open it, not just look at it.”
Shannen glanced from her husband’s face to the little red and gold box in her hands, and back to his face. He smiled at her again, and she flushed.
Setting the box down carefully next to her sandwich, she slowly untied the matching red ribbon and moved it aside. She took a deep breath before running a hand softly over the lid.
“Well, aren’t you going to open it,” he asked, sounding impatient now.
Didn’t he understand this was a sacred moment? That she had dreamed of him doing something for her – just for her – out of love?
She didn’t care that it was a present, or even what it was; she was sure she would like it… but she cared about his presence. She wanted to relish their time together.
After a few more moments, she lifted the lid.
In the dim lighting of the restaurant, she could make out what looked like sapphires. Several of them, all in a row; a bracelet. In addition, there were matching earbobs. She gently brushed her fingers over them, wanting to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
Tears welled in her eyes as she felt the cold stones against her skin, and she moved to place the lid back on the gift, trying to comprehend what was happening. While it was a holiday, this was the first time Steven had thoughtfully found something that was truly for her, alone, instead of for the household’s benefit.
These must have cost a small fortune, she thought, her hands trembling as she set the box in front of her plate, out of the way. “Thank you,” she said, simply. “I… I don’t know what to say, other than thank you.”
A nod from her husband, who was now in full eating mode, acknowledged her gratitude, and she moved to finish her sandwich, as well. They paused, not to talk, but to drink their water.
The silence wasn’t comfortable, but it was their time; their night together. She would try to enjoy it.
As they finished, the waiter came back to see if they were in need of anything else.
“I think we’re just fine,” Steven told him. “And that we’re about ready to go, if you’ll just allow me to pay.”
He quickly settled the bill and, making sure they had the jewelry with them, led Shannen to the door once more. The blinking lights were beginning to give her a headache, and she was thankful to move back out into the now-darkening street.
“There’s something we need to talk about,” he said as he steered her, not toward home, but in the opposite direction. “And it’s been a long time coming.”
Shannen felt her heart begin to increase its tempo, and, though she shivered in the cold, her face flushed hot.
He led her by the hand, and suddenly, she felt like a child again, about to be scolded. But what had she done wrong?
Had she?
What was it about this man she had loved since she first set eyes on him that drew her? What was it that had begun to pull them apart? And could they truly become one again, in more than merely their name and residence?
She waited for him to speak again as they crossed first one street, then another. With a turn to the left, she realized he was leading her in the direction of his office.
“There are… there are a few things I have not been totally honest with you about, and before we discuss them, I want to apologize. I was wrong,” he began as they approached the building. “Very wrong, and for that, I am sorry.”
Shannen tried to stop the progress of their walk, but Steven continued pulling her forward with him. They stopped, finally, in front of the stadium.
“Fenway Park? What does Fenway-”
He stopped her with a kiss.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m trying to find the right words to tell you what’s been… occupying my time and – honestly – more money than I wish it had. I….” He paused, glancing up the street; back the other way; behind them.
Shannen tensed up as she waited, not sure what to expect.
“I’ve been cheating you out of…. No, that’s not
the best way to put it,” he told her.
A shiver ran through Shannen that had nothing to do with the cold, and she threw a silent prayer up as he continued.
“I just… there’s this group of men that get together… some ball players, some not… a few like me, who would never make it with all the training in the world,” he began, laughing nervously a moment before words rushed out of him like a quick, chill wind. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that, we get together and at first, we were just having fun. Playing cards, dice, just because.”
Shannen looked him more deeply in the eye then, afraid both to hear and to miss what was coming as tears welled in her eyes for a second time.
There was a pause as Steven took a deep breath; another. “And now we’re playing for money, and I don’t know how to stop. I want to, but I feel like if I do, I’m letting the guys down, and that I won’t ever make back what I’ve lost. I owe five guys now, and recently, I even asked Peter for help because, let’s face it, he makes more than I do and I ran into him, and just didn’t know where else to turn.”
The words came out in a rush, and he reached for her hands; tried to pull her close, but she pulled back.
“So, what about the jewelry, then? If you owe people money? If you’re out there gambling away….” She let the words die, as much as her heart felt it was dying.
His disclosure was more than she could bear.
How had she not seen it? She had begun to think there might be another woman, or that he’d gone and invested money into something that would bring no return. And in a way, this was better; in a way, it was worse. This was….
No, God! This is just as bad. Betrayal is betrayal, no matter what it looks like, isn’t it, she thought, pushing back against a bitterness that was attempting to plant seeds in her heart.
The thought of her husband sneaking around, meeting up with a group of men to sit around a table of cards and dice was less insulting than if there were another woman, but still, it stung.
What was the draw?
The game, itself, she could understand, but why place money on it? Why gamble away what, she guessed, was about thirty or fifty dollars a month, when the money could go so much further?
“The, um… well, you see, that’s another story altogether, Shannen… that bracelet and earbobs set… that’s worth what I lost three months straight. I won them last night, and some of the guys tried to buy them from me afterward, but I knew… I knew you’d like them. I won the set, and twenty dollars, besides, which paid for dinner, and there’s still what’s left to set aside for a rainy day, besides.”
Shannen pulled back from her husband, seeing the joy in his eyes. Her chest tightened in fear as anger began to well inside of her. She pulled back, turning to walk away, not caring what anyone who might see them thought anymore.
She only got a few steps away before Steven grabbed her arm.
“Where are you going? It’s dark out, and you don’t need to just… walk away from me. I said I’m sorry,” he said, louder than he needed to. “I can’t get out of this alone; I don’t want to be stuck in this cycle of winning and losing, and even if all I did is win, if I lost you and Shannen Rose, I don’t know what I’d….”
Tears were coursing down Steven’s face, and he pulled her toward him, even as she tried to fight against him. And just as suddenly, she was throwing her arms around him, and there, in front of Fenway Park, they wept together.
A few couples strolling past whispered and one man, drunk and alone, hollered for them to find somewhere else to display their emotions.
But there could be no place else to share this moment; it was here, where truth was revealed, though it hurt. Here, where a wound began to heal. Here, where their marriage had gone from shambles to, Shannon hoped, something a little bit more.
Twenty Nine
Portland, Oregon… February 14, 2025
Mark watched Eugenie as she finished brushing her hair out, glancing occasionally at his watch.
Their reservation was in ten more minutes, and he was thankful for the quiet time in the car before heading inside.
With his court date looming, there was nothing to be done but spend what time he could with loved ones. His lawyer – not the same one he’d suggested for Arthur all those years ago, but a young man that the Iglesias’s had introduced him to, named Rodrigo Ignacio Acosta Herrera – had made it clear there was a possibility of conviction, and it was not until that point that Mark really and truly understood the gravity of his situation.
“You ready,” his wife asked him as she pulled the clip from her mouth to fasten her hair back away from her face.
“Been ready,” he said, smiling over at her. “Italian food awaits. And I think we’ll be just in time.”
He got out, making sure to shut the door behind him, and then walked around to the other side to open the door for her. Their Mazda was in great need of a bath, even though they’d had it less than three months, after trading out their older vehicle.
He followed his wife up the stone path and, as she moved to open the door, halted her to perform the duty. At the second door, she waited for him, seemingly aware of how important it was for him to do things right.
“Welcome to Alfredo’s,” a perky young woman sporting a mole on her left cheek said from behind the counter. “Do you have reservations?”
“Yes, two for Jeffries for eight o’clock,” he told her, smiling. “I believe we’ve preordered, as well.”
The woman glanced at the Imagebar in front of her, scrolling through information that zoomed past her.
“Yes,” she told them. “Yes, I see that you did. So, right this way,” she continued, pressing her thumb into the middle of the screen, causing it to bring up the Alfredo’s menu as a screensaver, locking it into place.
“So, I didn’t realize you used Imagebar here,” he said, trying to be friendly as he eyed the wall-mounted computer-television a second time. If he hadn’t seen one work, he would never know it was there, but for the bottom edge that pulled the information up. “I’ve seen them at the store, but they’re so expensive, even for these small ones.”
“Well, we try to be up on our technology here, Sir, and not just in food,” the woman replied again, ushering them up the stairs to the second floor.
The hallway, with its wide wooden railings, felt cramped as he followed Eugenie and the hostess toward their destination. As they walked out into the open room he sucked in a breath.
It was gorgeous.
A burnished copper burnout velvet covered the walls on three sides, and on the forth, a creamy stucco wall with a wood-burning fireplace. Twelve tables were set up in a three by four pattern, each with an almost white-pink tablecloth and vase of roses, along with gold-plated silverware and rose-patterned china.
Most of the tables were already filled with couples and young families out for the holiday, and the waitress led them toward one in the back, near the fireplace; the one he had specifically asked for over the phone several months prior.
While Mark had never been to Alfredo’s before, he had seen photographs of it and heard nothing but positive words from those who had ventured inside. A newer establishment, he thought it would be a good way to celebrate with Eugenie. And now that he may not be with her for another Valentine’s Day for a while, he was all the more thankful.
Once the waitress departed, informing them their meals would arrive shortly, Mark helped Eugenie with her chair, then moved to the other side of the table, opposite her. There was only one table closer to the fire, and he was thankful for the ambience it helped create.
The murmurs of conversation swirling around them heightened the sense of place as Mark reached for his wife’s hand. He noted her hesitancy, and did his best to take it in stride, though it felt like the ripping open of a wound.
Here I am doing the right thing, and she’s punishing me for it. I would have thought she was better than that, he thought. I would have assumed that doing the right thing rea
lly would be best, and in God’s eyes, I know that it is… I do, but…
“Eugenie, I-”
“Mark, listen, I-”
Their words collided, and he nodded for her to go ahead even as his heartbeat began to thrum loudly in his ears.
“I just…. I’m not sure how to say this, it’s been on my heart for days now, and I’ve tried to come up with adequate words that….” She sighed.
“Take your time,” he said, running his thumb across the back of her hand. She started to pull it away, and then stopped.
A dark-haired and multiply-ear-ringed waiter stepped closer, clearing his throat to gain their attention as he set two glasses of water and a carafe down for them to share. “It looks like your dinner will be ready in about ten more minutes,” he told them, his voice lower than Mark expected.
“Thank you,” he and Eugenie said, discordantly.
As the waiter turned to go, Eugenie worked her mouth to speak; no words came out, and she tried again.
“I just want to say, first of all, that while I was upset with the way you handled… certain situations related to what is happening in our lives now, that I commend you for doing the right thing. I… I wish it had been sooner, as I believe you know,” she said, pausing.
He nodded in assent, taking a deep breath as she continued.
“I guess I was so upset because, the older Majesta has gotten, the more attached to you she is, and now, this is something she will remember for the rest of her life, no matter which way things turn out. She will remember that you spoke out, but also that it took so long for you to do so. And I’m not sure if that’s a good thing in the long run or if it will teach her to hold back on the truth.”
Now, Mark moved to shift his hand away, and refrained himself.
What had he really expected?
That all of this wouldn’t affect his daughter?
That his wife wouldn’t bring up the possibility that Majesta might take the easy way out in life, in part, due to his example?
It was ludicrous.
“Eugenie, I’m sorry, I-“
The Angels' Mirror Pack 2: Books Four through Seven Page 50