‘Of course. Don’t tell me you two didn’t know Bart was seeing her regularly. I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to admit it was happening, but it’s happening. Oh, is it happening,’ Florence said.
Suddenly, setting free all she had pent up also released her trapped appetite. She dug her fork into her salad and began to eat.
For the first time in a long time, Natalie Newton was speechless. Bea said nothing either. The three returned to their food, and to all three this lunch had turned into a wake.
Meanwhile, across town in the county’s newest restaurant – and its first Mexican restaurant – Bart couldn’t stop talking. He pulled out the chair for Victoria. He had told her the night before that this was going to be a special lunch. For the last three and a half weeks, they had been seeing each other every day, spending both weekends at the lake boating and swimming. If it rained, they went to a movie and dinner. One Saturday, he took her to New York City to eat at a restaurant one of his customers had raved about and arranged reservations for him. Three times, she had gone to his apartment for dinner, a dinner she insisted on making. She had impressed him with her cooking skills.
‘When I was younger, I was drafted into it,’ she explained. ‘Both my parents were working jobs that kept them often until nearly dinner time. In the beginning, my mother would leave something for me to warm up, but gradually I began to take charge. My father loves pasta, so I took out an Italian recipe book and began experimenting. By the time I was fourteen, I was making lasagna, manicotti, spaghetti and meatballs, or vegetarian dishes with eggplant and zucchini, as well as casseroles. I make a killer meatloaf,’ she added.
Bart was sincerely impressed. She could see it in his face when he ate what she had prepared.
‘You’re the whole deal,’ he told her. ‘Brains, beauty and the path to a man’s heart – his stomach.’
Gradually, during their dating, she began shedding whatever inhibitions and insecurities she still endured. Her confidence had been resurrected from some grave dug immediately after the Incident. It rose with a vengeance. She bought new clothes and shoes, went to the beauty parlor to sharpen her style, paid almost scientific attention to her makeup, chose a new perfume and, for the first time, cared about and did up her fingernails.
It felt as if the air had changed around her, especially in the house. When she did spend time with her parents, they each brought up amusing stories from their work, something she hadn’t heard them do for years. And, as if her new attention on herself was infectious, they seemed to spruce up as well. Her father, who could put off a haircut for weeks after he needed one, was right on it. He and her mother bought themselves new clothes as well, and her mother had her hair done, too, choosing a more fashionable style. Because Victoria was out and about every free hour, they were spending more time with each other, going out to dinner, seeing a movie or just taking a drive.
Jena called often and was obviously upset about her friend not having any time for her. Victoria kept promising to find an evening for them to spend together, but had yet to do it. Meanwhile, more people had seen her out with Bart. The gossip was flowing in around them as if some dam holding back any reference to her had been breached. She found people were smiling at them, eager to say hello. Many were Stonefield car customers.
The result was she was once again comfortable in her own skin. She put off her yearly follow-up session with Dr Thornton and even began to think that she would never return. Did she dare be that confident?
The Mexican restaurant had three mariachi singers at lunch and dinner. They moved around the room, singing to couples for extra tips. As soon as their waitress brought their margaritas, something Victoria never really drank, Bart signaled to them and they came to their table and sang the Richie Valens hit, ‘La Bamba’. Everyone in the restaurant was moving to the rhythm and it established a party atmosphere immediately. As soon as it ended and Bart had tipped them, they ordered their food.
‘How are you going to be able to return to work after this?’ she asked, laughing.
‘I’m not. You have me for the day … and the night,’ he added and tapped his glass against hers. They sipped and gazed at each other.
‘OK, I can’t wait any longer. What caused all this?’ she asked.
‘Well, first, say hello to the manager of the new Stonefield Volkswagen dealership. Construction is beginning tomorrow.’
‘Oh, Bart, that’s wonderful,’ she said. She tapped his glass again and sipped some more of her margarita. Three good sips had already begun the merry-go-round in her head. She ate some chips. Drinking on an empty stomach was going to turn the restaurant into a ship on the high seas very quickly, she thought. ‘Mr Manager,’ she said, and then she had the horrible thought that his father was paying him off to keep quiet about his affair. She chased that thought out quickly. Better to believe Bart’s father knew he was capable of the job and deserved it as well.
‘Did I tell you yet how beautiful you are, Victoria? I want to be sure I tell you every day, because I made a vow to myself never to take you for granted,’ he said.
She knew she should be smiling, but all she could do was soak up the moment. She was probably looking incredulous and she didn’t want that. She didn’t want him to think for an instant that she doubted him or believed he just quoted lines that had brought him romantic success with other women. She finally managed, ‘Thank you.’
‘Aw, don’t say thank you,’ he said. ‘I’m the one who’s trying to say thank you. Thank you for being beautiful for me every day. Thank you for being so amazing to be with. Thank you for making me care about myself, for making me ambitious and, most of all, just plain happy, Victoria.’
The waiter brought them their food and Bart ordered two more margaritas.
‘If I drink another of these, I won’t hear anything you say,’ she warned.
‘Oh, then don’t take another sip,’ he said, smiling. ‘Eat something.’
They began. The food was delicious and something she had never really eaten before.
‘Right now, it’s more of a West Coast thing, but I think it’ll catch on. Maybe we should invest in the place,’ he said, looking around.
‘Your father would invest in a restaurant, too?’
He paused. ‘I didn’t mean my father. I meant us.’
‘Us?’
The waiter brought the two new margaritas.
‘Don’t touch that yet,’ he warned.
She started to laugh, but he put his hand in his jacket pocket and brought out a small box, a box that could only be for a ring. He put it in front of her. She looked up at him. He thought she looked terrified.
‘It won’t bite,’ he promised.
‘Bart …’
‘At least open it before you speak,’ he said.
Her fingers were trembling. She reached for it and then opened it slowly. For a moment, she simply stared at it. She knew it was rather sizeable, but she didn’t know how big it really was. All she knew for sure was it was bigger than the one her father had given her mother.
‘Victoria Myers,’ Bart said, ‘will you marry me?’
She was holding her breath. She looked at the ring again, glanced at him and then looked out the front window that faced Main Street. Of course, she felt more for him than she had felt for any boy or man, excluding her father. Why was she so lucky? How had this happened so fast?
‘Victoria?’ he said, his voice now sounding his fear of rejection.
She turned to him and smiled. ‘Are you really sure about this, Bart?’
‘I spent a lot of money,’ he replied. ‘No. Of course I’m sure. I’m about as sure of it as I’ve been about anything in my life.’
She took the ring out of its box. ‘How did you know my size?’
‘I’m not giving away all my secrets,’ he said.
She tried it on. It was a perfect fit.
She thought about what her mother would probably have said. ‘Well, since the ring fits, I guess t
he answer is yes.’
His smile broadened. Then he lifted the new margarita. ‘To us,’ he said.
She lifted hers and they clinked their glasses.
‘You’d better eat. You’ll need your strength,’ he said, nodding at her food.
‘For what?’
‘The start of our honeymoon,’ he replied. ‘Right after lunch. You didn’t think there was any chance for me to do anything else, did you?’
She laughed and then started to eat again, expecting to hear a bubble pop and find herself back in bed dreaming.
FIFTEEN
Her first thought when she had got her parents to take a seat in the living room and shown them her engagement ring was that they look relieved – as relieved as parents of an ugly duckling might feel.
‘That’s an impressive ring,’ her father said. He held on to her hand, looked at her mother and then, as he let go, added, ‘I’m sure you know whether or not Bart’s the right guy for you.’
‘It is rather quick,’ her mother said. ‘It took us six months to get engaged, but I suppose that was because your father was too bashful.’
‘That’s not true,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t bashful. I was cautious.’
Her mother rolled her eyes. ‘The eye sees not itself but by reflection,’ she offered.
‘Don’t start quotin’ Shakespeare, darlin’. You know I was and always have been cautious.’
‘Right,’ she said with a flick of her right hand, her favorite gesture of dismissal. ‘So how have Florence and John Stonefield reacted to this news?’
Her mother always went right for the jugular, Victoria thought. She wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad. The opposite approach – circling the real issue, which was the way most people handled controversial things – could be frustrating and a waste of time, too. It was amazing. Here she was in her twenties and she was still wondering if she wanted to be more or less like her mother.
‘I don’t know,’ Victoria said. She had never told her mother or father about what she and Bart had come upon that night at the dealership. He hadn’t mentioned their reaction to his giving her an engagement ring and she hadn’t asked. She just assumed that they didn’t know yet.
‘Have you met Florence Stonefield since Bart’s been taking you out?’ her mother asked.
‘No.’
Her mother folded her hands together, pressed her forefingers against each other and brought them to her lips as she thought. The tightness at the corners of her eyes spread tiny lines into her temples like hairline cracks in a window. Victoria knew that meant her mother was having a troubled thought.
‘I’m going to meet them tomorrow night. Bart’s arranging for us all to have dinner at Dante’s,’ Victoria quickly added.
Her mother looked up. Her eyes were sharp, that familiar look of confidence and authority firming her posture. When she was like this, Victoria thought, she seemed regally beautiful. It was harder to ignore her than it was to ignore a queen.
‘Florence Stonefield is one of those women who believes there’s a caste system in America similar to the one in India,’ she said.
‘I’m not marrying Florence Stonefield,’ Victoria responded.
‘Let me give you one word of advice, Victoria. When you marry someone, no matter what the man might tell you, you marry his family, too.’
‘And vice versa,’ Victoria countered. Her father smiled.
‘Just so you’re aware of it,’ her mother said.
‘How could I not be? Bart works with his father. Which brings me to the other big news. His father’s going forward with the foreign car dealership in Monticello and Bart will be the manager.’
‘Well, that is good news,’ her father said.
‘When do you plan on this wedding?’ her mother asked. ‘Or I should say, when do we plan on it?’
‘We were thinking we might just elope,’ she replied.
‘Elope?’ her father said.
‘I see. Who came up with that idea?’ her mother asked.
She shrugged. ‘We were talking about an elaborate wedding and Bart just said, “Why don’t we just run off and do it? We could always have a ceremony later.” I thought that made sense.’
‘Nothing impulsive ever makes sense,’ her mother said. ‘But you’re both adults and in charge of your own lives. Is this happening very soon?’
‘We haven’t decided on the exact date yet, but it won’t be too long.’
‘Seems like a waste to buy an engagement ring,’ she quipped.
‘No, it’s not. You still wear yours.’
‘Yes. Well, keep us up on the details, such as what day you’re running off,’ her mother added and rose. ‘We’re supposed to join Gerry and Miriam Kaplan for dinner tonight. I’m going up to shower and dress,’ she said and walked out of the living room.
Victoria watched her leave. ‘I’m glad she’s so excited for me,’ she muttered.
‘Well, mothers look forward to their daughter’s weddin’s, Vick – all that plannin’ and shoppin’. In a way, it brings them closer just when they’re about to separate, don’t ya think?’ he asked softly.
‘I suppose,’ she said.
‘I would be lyin’ like the fox to that hen if I didn’t say I was lookin’ forward to walkin’ you down the aisle and givin’ you away, darlin’,’ he added.
She nodded.
‘I mean, why do you guys hafta run off in the night as though you were doin’ somethin’ underhand or forbidden?’
‘We don’t have to,’ she said. She saw the disappointment in his eyes. ‘I’ll speak to Bart. You’re right. I was just … overwhelmed and didn’t think it out.’
He smiled.
‘There’s nothin’ wrong with that, Vick. I’m really happy for you and so’s your mom.’ He rose and gave her a kiss. ‘Got to get dolled up or I’ll be whipped in the tool shed,’ he joked and walked out.
She sat there thinking a moment before going to her bedroom and calling Bart.
‘Hey,’ he said, ‘how did you know I miss you already?’
‘Let’s see if you say that in five years – even two.’
‘I’ll say it. You can take that to the bank.’
‘I have a problem,’ she said.
‘Oh?’
‘My parents are really very disappointed about our not having a wedding. I didn’t realize how much it meant to them. I’m sure it will mean the same to me when our daughter gets engaged,’ she added.
‘Right, right.’
‘I mean, you don’t mind, do you?’
‘When were you thinking?’
‘I haven’t gotten to that yet. What do you think’s a good date?’
‘Sooner the better or I’ll force you to live in sin,’ he said.
She laughed. ‘OK. I imagine your parents will want to have their say.’
‘Let your parents take the lead,’ he said. ‘My mother can be … overwhelming. It will be a coup de tata or something.’
She laughed.
‘Tata? Coup d’état. Not if she meets mine,’ Victoria said and he laughed. ‘Maybe this will be more fun than we know,’ she added hopefully.
‘It could be as much fun as being on the Titanic,’ he said.
After she hung up, she went to tell her parents about the reversal of their decision.
‘I hope you’re not doing this for my benefit alone, Victoria,’ her mother said. ‘It has to be meaningful to you more than to anyone else. There are times when being selfish is not only OK, but it’s necessary.’
‘No. I really gave it some thought, Mom. I realized I want a real wedding. I want to come out of the closet,’ she said. Her mother widened her eyes and looked as if she was going to laugh or at least smile.
‘I like that,’ her mother said and did smile. ‘Lester?’
Her father, still holding his razor with shaving cream over his face, stood in the bathroom doorway, listening.
‘I heard it all. Of course. It’s great. I’ll even buy a new tux
edo – a real penguin suit.’
‘Oh, you’ll buy more than that,’ her mother told him.
He looked comical in his lathered face, smiling.
‘You can be such an idiot sometimes, Lester Myers,’ she said and then added, ‘But a delightful one.’
The three looked at each other and then, for the first time in a long time, they all laughed. They laughed together and suddenly she felt that they were really a family again.
How ironic.
It was happening just when she was planning to leave them.
The following day, Victoria’s mother and father explored some possible venues for the reception. Their best hope for the closest date was a moderate-size hotel called the Olympic, just outside of Woodridge.
‘I hope Florence Stonefield won’t hold us to Emily Post rules and regulations,’ her mother told her. ‘This is quick. The pressure will be on to make some big decisions. We can do the wedding right after Labor Day. The hotel will be available, obviously. I’m hoping the Stonefields don’t expect they’ll be able to invite every Stonefield customer. It’s not intended to be a business write-off,’ she added.
Uh-oh, Victoria thought. Now I see why Bart was hoping to elope.
Actually, it felt good to be concerned with the issues that confronted any two families when their children were marrying. They all looked quite surmountable to her. When she had told her parents she was coming out of the closet, she wasn’t kidding. She knew the wedding would revive the memories, the infamous Incident, and for that reason both she and Bart would be in a bigger spotlight. She was depending on her love for Bart and his love for her to carry her above it all. The wedding might be just the way to put it finally to bed. After all, she was marrying a respectable young man with a successful business. Girls who didn’t carry her wounds weren’t doing as well.
She was more nervous preparing for their dinner with Bart’s parents than she had been on her first date with Bart. Bart’s own descriptions of his mother underscored the view of Florence Stonefield expressed by Victoria’s own mother. That alone set the stage for a complex evening.
She had read enough novels and even some psychological research on the relationship of mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law to know there was a natural distrust, even a resentment sometimes. This young woman was taking away her son. She was no longer the number-one female in his life, and when and if there was conflict between them, her son naturally would support his wife. That was who he would be living with now; that was whom he would pledge to keep happy and safe until death do them part. It would help if they liked each other, but it wouldn’t prevent eventual conflicts and disagreements about everything possible, from the furniture she chose to how she and Bart raised their children. All this was double pressure because they were both only children.
The Incident Page 18