by T. Torrest
I woke up to the sound of… Mary? Madge? talking to me from the doorway as she arranged a table with food. The curtains were pulled open, allowing the sunlight to filter in through the massive picture window. It was bright. Too bright for winter, not to mention my hungover state.
“I had my chef prepare some breakfast for us. Coffee?”
I sat up in bed and swiped my eyes. “Yeah. Yes. Black, please.”
“Something told me that’s how you’d take it.”
I looked around the room for the first time; I hadn’t registered much about it the night before. White carpets and walls, lots of plush aqua fabric with splashy, geometric patterns. Ultra modern. Very Dynasty.
What’s-her-face brought the coffee over to the bed as I took the opportunity to appreciate her graceful strides. This was a woman who knew how to carry herself, probably born out of years at fancy private schools and a cushy life spent playing the refined debutante. Ramrod straight posture, even while offering a mug of coffee from her delicate, outstretched hands. The stark light of day revealed a few faint lines on her face which were camouflaged by drink and dim lighting the evening before; the elusive smile at her lips hinted at the amusement she felt at having some young, naked stranger in her bed.
The reality of my situation hit me in that moment: I hadn’t slept with another woman besides Brenda in over a decade. Our antics from last night came rushing to the forefront of my brain and I was both proud and ashamed at the slide show playing out behind my eyes.
She sat down on the edge of the bed while I sipped my coffee. Wow. This wasn’t some no-name bargain brand from the A&P. This was some good shit.
She held out her hand. “Maxine Calloway. In case you forgot.”
Maxine. I knew it started with an M. “Wilson Edwards. Nice to meet you.” I released her hand and sank back against the pillows with my mug of coffee, my eyes tightening as I tried to discern the look on her face.
She let out with a tiny chuckle as she sighed and shook her head. “You’re way too good-looking for your own good.”
I smirked at her assessment and simply offered, “Thanks.”
“Do you have anywhere to be today?”
Aside from wallowing around in the Land of Misery? The unwanted reminder that my ex-wife was getting remarried seeped into the forefront of my mind. If I wasn’t there right then, I’d have probably spent the day drowning in a bottle of whiskey and feeling sorry for myself. I’d be expected to show my face at the restaurant at some point, but I had a few hours to kill before then. “No plans whatsoever.”
Her mouth dipped into a slight smile, drawing my attention to the fact that she was wearing lipstick already. “Do you play tennis?”
I grabbed her hand and brushed a soft kiss against her knuckles. “I’m a quick learner.”
CHAPTER 20
Just Didn’t Count On the Tears
BRENDA
Sunday, February 7
1982
I’d developed the horridly unexpected little habit of crying at the drop of a hat for no apparent reason whatsoever. It never took much to set me off, and it seemed my tears were all too ready and willing to lend their presence.
Beau couldn’t avoid seeing my tiny breakdowns and I’m sure he knew the reason behind them, even if I couldn’t fully admit that reason to myself. Too many times in recent weeks, he’d walk into the room to find me draped across his humongous brass bed, racked with sobbing. My daily mantra was starting to consist of “I’m sorry, Beau” or “I just need a minute, Beau.”
He wasn’t stupid. He knew why I was leaking tears, and I knew that it was hurting him. I hated that I was hurting this man who wanted nothing more than to be good to me. It wasn’t fair to him. But I couldn’t help it.
Last night, we finally addressed the elephant in the room. Beau had found me slumped in a dining room chair, staring out the picture window. It wasn’t until I saw him that I realized I’d been crying.
Again.
I swiped a tear off my cheek and shook my head. “I’m so sorry. I just can’t seem to get a handle on my emotions lately.”
Beau’s sympathetic smile almost ripped my heart out of my chest. “It’s okay, honey. Of course you’re upset. You’ve been through so many changes in the past year.”
“It’s just so unfair to you! You’ve been so wonderful.”
“So have you.” He came over and stood in front of me, bending down to crook a finger under my chin, lifting my eyes to his. “You’re still dealing with thoughts of failure about your first marriage. And it’s natural that you’d be wary about the success of your second.”
He was only partially right.
I had no doubts about the success of my impending marriage. I was actually over-confident that my relationship with Beau would work out perfectly provided I was willing to put forth the necessary effort. If I could just focus on doing so, I could save myself from the one thought that plagued me every minute of every day: I missed Eddie.
I couldn’t help it. I missed the person I was when I was with him. I missed the young, carefree love we once had. I missed him so much it hurt.
Through it all was this patient, caring man who wanted nothing more than to help me get over the pain. Why did he even care enough to try? What was so goddarn special about me that he would bother? Who the hell did I think I was?
“Oh, Beau. You’re just too good to be true. That’s why I’m crying. The thought of hurting you when you’ve been so incredible to me…”
My fiancé let out with a little chuckle as he sat down in the chair next to mine. “Well, It’s nice to know you finally appreciate me.” He laughed outright at his own joke, then held out his hand toward me. “Now let’s dry those eyes. Come here, Bren.”
Bren. Why did he have to call me that? I had to hide my shock as I got up from my chair and sank down onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around me and smoothed my hair.
The sweet gesture was enough to start me crying all over again, but eventually, we made our way to the bedroom where Beau put in an extraordinary effort to help me get over it.
* * *
Beau rolled off me and headed for the bathroom. I pulled the sheets over my naked self before giving a languid stretch, hearing the sound of running water as he stepped into the shower.
He sang half of an Air Supply tune before striking up a conversation with me. “So, what would you like to do today, my love?”
I was busy filing my nails while waiting for my turn in the bathroom. “Oh, well… I already made plans with Virginia. I hope that’s alright.” I hadn’t seen Ginny in weeks, and I’d been in considerably good spirits since making the plans to do so. I really needed a dose of my best friend but I hadn’t thought to check with Beau about it first. When he didn’t respond, I hastily added, “I can cancel if you want.”
“What plans?”
“We were going to meet with the florist, but…”
The water shut off and Beau came out into the bedroom, one towel around his trim waist, another rubbing at his wet hair. “No, sweetheart. You keep your plans with your friend. I have some Sony paperwork I need to get cracking on anyway.”
Beau had been wooing the Japanese company to let BrumTech distribute their latest Walkman. Supposedly, the new model wasn’t going to play cassettes but little records called compact discs. He was convinced the things were going to outsell 8-tracks and cassettes combined, and wanted in on the ground floor of the machines that would be playing them.
I bit my lip and asked, “Anything I can do to help?”
I didn’t know anything about the world of technology but I did know how to provide my fiancé with the proper arm candy. A few weeks ago, he’d brought me along during one of his business dinners with the Sony people for the sole purpose of charming the pants off them. We both knew the main reason he’d landed the account was due to my exemplary flirting skills.
“No, not today. I’m just glad to see you happy, darling.” He opened the secret drawer in h
is dresser and pulled out a small leather-bound checkbook. He tore a note from its binding and handed it to me, saying, “If you find a place you like, you can leave a deposit.”
“Thank you.”
“Which florist are you meeting with?”
“Oh, uh, Virginia’s sister works at a place right near the Garden State Plaza. We figured we’d start there.”
“Hmm. You do know that we’re inviting my work colleagues to the reception, yes?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
He cocked his head to the side, his lips tightening with impatience. “Well, I just don’t want the décor to look… cheap.” I had to stop myself from wincing at his word choice. I hated the idea that he thought anything about me was “cheap,” even if it was just my choice of florist. “You might want to consider going to Fleur Deveraux instead. I went to Princeton with their son. Just an idea.”
I clenched my teeth at his tone but I shut up about it. We both knew damn well he’d just imparted an edict, not an idea. But I guessed since he was the one who’d be flipping the bill, there wasn’t much harm in taking his advice.
* * *
Virginia and I held our tongues as we walked out of Fleur Deveraux. We waited until we were in the soundproof confines of her car before looking at each other, wide-eyed. The florist we’d just met with was too slick for her own good and obscenely overpriced but she had the best ideas for the wedding.
“Are you really doing this?” Ginny asked.
I shook my head. “I know. I can’t believe what they charge! But I think I want to. Just imagine how gorgeous this wedding will be! Do you think I’m crazy?”
“No. I think you’re running.”
I was confused by her words but didn’t get the chance to question her about them. Because at that exact second, my best friend burst into tears.
“Ginny. My God. What’s wrong?”
I went to hug her but she shook her head and waved me off, digging through her purse for a Kleenex. She blew her nose and took a deep breath before answering, “Anthony and I are having trouble getting pregnant. The doctors told me I’m ‘blocked.’ They don’t know why.”
Her confession made my mouth gape. “Oh, Gin! I didn’t even know you were trying!” I don’t know why that news should have been such a surprise; they’d been married for ten years. I guess I still thought of them as teenagers. But no teenagers I ever knew had to deal with real-life, heartbreaking stuff like this. Because my emotions were so close to the surface these days, Virginia’s tears were the only excuse I needed to start bawling along with her.
“We’ve been hoping for the past five but really trying for over two years,” she said through her sniffles.
I didn’t know what to say, so I tried to lighten the mood. I swiped my eyes and attempted a joke. “Well at least you’ve been having fun while you try, right?”
“It’s not fun! It’s just a steadily repetitious disappointment, month after month.”
I felt like such a jerk. “I know. I’m sorry. That was my weak attempt at humor. I just hate seeing you so sad. This obviously means a lot to you.”
“It means everything to me! I know I’m not supposed to think like that. The feminists would have my head. But I never had some big goal to be a fancy career-woman. Being a wife and mother is the only thing I’ve ever wanted.” She swiped her nose with the Kleenex again before folding it neatly in her lap. “And Anthony has been so loyal and understanding. He wants kids even more than I do but he refuses to give up on me. Not that I’m surprised; for Anthony and me, that’s what it’s all about. Two people conquering the world together, come what may.”
I felt my stomach turn at Virginia’s words. She wasn’t trying to insult me but I was insulted just the same. The implication that a real marriage weathers the tough times as a team.
She couldn’t have known what I was thinking, however, a fact which was proven as she continued her diatribe. “There’s a way that the doctors can implant the baby inside of me themselves but it’s a newer procedure and it costs a fortune. Besides, the church doesn’t seem to like it. I don’t know that I could ever go against Pope John Paul’s wishes.”
I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. We were both raised Catholic but Virginia always took it way more seriously than I did. Instead of fighting her logic, I concentrated on the first part of her statement. “Put it in you? Like that test tube baby in England?”
“They don’t call it that but yes. Sort of.”
My best friend looked so forlorn and I hated that there was nothing I could do for her. I reached over and grabbed her hand, prompting her to meet my eyes. I hoped she could tell I really meant it when I said, “Everything is going to work out, Gin. It always does. Promise.”
CHAPTER 21
If I Only Had the Words
BRENDA
Saturday, March 11
1972
“I’d like to tell you that I’m going to keep this short and sweet but for those of you who know me, you’re well aware of what happens when I get a mic in my hand. For those of you who don’t… my apologies in advance.
“I wish I had some witty story about how Tony and I came to be friends but I don’t. We were in the same first grade class and I guess just putting us in the same room together was enough for us to form a friendship, a friendship going on fifteen years now. It may as well have been the whole twenty because I can’t remember a time when Tony wasn’t a part of my life. Neither one of us has any siblings, so I suppose ‘brothers’ is a term better suited to us.
“It was he and I against the world all those years, the two of us just trying to get through our childhood—every big game, every less-than-stellar grade, every playground scuffle… until the sixth grade, when he met this one.
“Tony was such a putz, though, that it took him a full six years before he finally found the nerve to ask Ginny out because the two of them didn’t start dating until junior year. Oh, sure, there’d been other girls during that time. Unrequited crushes and chicks who wouldn’t give him a second glance, but they were there. No, no. I’m only kidding. We all know how much the ladies loved Anthony Leoneeeee. He was just so dreamy!
“Once he started dating Ginny, however, that was it. He was a goner. I knew this girl was no passing phase. I can’t tell you the number of times he asked me if I thought she was as beautiful as he did. If she was really that kind, that generous, that fun.
“Well, for those of you in this room who have the privilege of knowing her for yourself, you can understand why my answer was always a resounding ‘yes.’
“Gin, I suppose a lesser man would have resented a third person invading Tony’s and my twosome. And I am just such a lesser man.
“Thankfully, I got over it pretty quick, though. And why wouldn’t I? Tony’s opinion of you was absolutely correct. You are beautiful. You are kind. You are generous. And you are fun.
“Most importantly, you are the love of Tony’s life, and I know you feel the same about him. The two of you just fit. I’ve been honored to witness your relationship over the years, to cheer you on from the sidelines, to watch you fall in love. I’m more appreciative than you know that you allowed me to be your third wheel all these years, and grateful to be your second best man here today. Because we all know the true best man in this room is sitting right there next to you.
“So, if you would all join me as we raise our glasses in a toast to the newlyweds… Virginia… Anthony… Best wishes for a lifetime of love and happiness. Here’s to those who wish you well. And those who don’t can go to Hell! Mazel tov!”
The crowd had been in stitches throughout Eddies’ entire speech but that last line really sent them over the edge. I don’t even think I took a sip of my champagne; I was laughing too hard. Ginny had tears in her eyes as she threw her arms around Eddie and squeezed the stuffing out of him, and Tony did the same before Eddie found his way back to our table.
“Mazel tov?” I asked. “What the heck w
as that?”
Eddie grinned ear to ear as he answered, “It’s a Jewish saying. It means ‘good luck.’”
“They’re not Jewish.”
“That’s what makes it funny.”
I shook my head as Eddie took his seat, then he draped an arm over the back of my chair and nuzzled the string of pearls at my neck. I giggled as I raked my hand through the hair over his ear. God. It seemed as though I could never touch him enough. I was addicted to his smell and his smile and the spark that always greeted me in his mischievous blue-green eyes.
Eddie made everything fun.
The whole day had been a blast already, and the reception had barely begun. After the past months of stress and friction, we were all looking forward to getting this party started.
The friction had come from Tony’s mother and Ginny’s parents. They were all overly concerned about their kids getting married so young. But after Anthony’s father died, he had an epiphany. He wasn’t going to wait around for his life to begin when he saw firsthand how easily that life could be cut short.
Well, that, and because Virginia wasn’t going to go all the way with him until they were married. I didn’t know anyone who actually waited anymore, for godsakes.
The Leones had been in the process of converting their grocery store into a restaurant when Mr. Leone dropped dead of a heart attack, right there in the middle of Mama’s while going over the blueprints. The architect was the one who called for an ambulance but he made a point to tell Mrs. Leone that her husband had died before he even hit the floor. Somehow, that allowed everyone to accept the shock of his death a little easier, knowing he was never in pain.
The pain was left for the rest of us to endure.
Mrs. Leone wailed inconsolably for months afterward, and she refused to wear anything other than black until the wedding today. We’d all gone out of our way to watch over her, try to get her living her life again. Eddie felt helpless and sad but Tony was positively devastated. He figured the best thing to do was to carry out his father’s plan for the restaurant. He’d taken some business classes at the community college in preparation for “someday,” and thank God for that, because someday came around a lot sooner than anyone expected. Eddie was slated to stay on the payroll, although now he’d be waiting tables instead of hauling stock. It was a small step up but a step up nonetheless. Maybe the increased salary would allow us to celebrate our wedding someday soon.