Francesca's Kitchen

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Francesca's Kitchen Page 16

by Peter Pezzelli


  Although recently divorced, Hadley still seemed very much married, but to his personal communication device—and she was a jealous, clinging wife. From the moment they left the house and Loretta first set foot in his car, it seemed hardly two minutes at a stretch passed without them being interrupted by the ringing of his telephone. She might have found that easy enough to live with if Hadley had simply chosen to ignore it. Instead, he invariably picked up and began chatting away, as if suddenly Loretta were not even there. He was doing so just at that moment at the club, while the waiter did his best to explain the dinner specials to Loretta. The young man soon gave up the effort and promised he would return shortly to take their orders.

  “Sorry,” said Hadley after finally hanging up. “Just business. You know how it is. It never ends.”

  More than one of his cell phone conversations had ended with hushed “I’ll-call-you-later,” leaving Loretta to wonder about what kind of business he was talking, and if perhaps she wasn’t the only item on his agenda for that night. Despite these misgivings, she still held out hope that the evening would turn out better than it had started.

  “You know, Ned,” she suggested playfully, “it might be easier for us to talk if maybe you just…I don’t know…turned that thing off?”

  As he tucked the phone into his jacket pocket, Hadley chuckled and gave her an odd sort of half smile, as if to say that he wasn’t sure of just exactly what she meant. He picked up his menu and began to peruse the entrées.

  “So, sunshine girl,” he said easily, “what looks good tonight—besides you, of course?”

  Loretta flashed a perfunctory smile in reply even though she did not feel the least bit flattered. She was, in fact, beginning to feel that she would rather go home. Had she not been famished at that particular moment, she might have suggested it. Instead, she returned her gaze to her menu and kept it there until she saw the waiter returning to take their orders.

  “Has everyone made up their minds?” he asked pleasantly.

  Loretta closed her menu and gave a barely audible sigh.

  “Well, I don’t know about you,” she said to Hadley, a thinly masked hint of disappointment in her voice, “but I think I’ve just about made up mine….”

  CHAPTER 28

  After dinner, as Hadley drove her home from the club, Loretta sat quietly in the seat beside him, listening absentmindedly to the soft growl of the car’s engine and the hum of the tires against the road. Her companion was, of course, once again engaged in conversation, but not with her. As annoying as the constant interruptions had been, Loretta now reflected that they had in some ways been a blessing. Throughout dinner, whenever the two had had the opportunity to actually converse with one another for any length of time, Hadley had seemed incapable of discussing anything other than the glories of golf and the trials and tribulations of his family’s trucking business. Loretta put every fiber of her being into trying to look interested, of trying to be interested, but the effort extracted a terrible toll on her patience and, before very long, she lapsed into something akin to melancholy. She had started the evening with high hopes, but soon found herself longing for it to end, to simply go home and just get in her bed. As the night wore on, the thought of curling up and falling asleep was all that had sustained her.

  As they drew nearer to home, Loretta began to turn over in her mind her options for bringing the evening to a graceful conclusion. Given that Hadley was an important client of her law firm and a family friend of Mr. Pace, there was every reason to expect that their paths might cross once again in the not-too-distant future. She had to be careful. It was just then, as she was deciding how best to send him on his way, that they arrived at the house, and Hadley abruptly ended his conversation, snapped the telephone shut, and tossed it aside.

  “I’m sorry,” he said in a heavy voice after a moment’s hesitation. “I’m afraid I haven’t been very good company this evening. Here I am with a beautiful woman, and all I’ve done all night is talk to other people on that silly phone. I don’t know why I get like that. It’s just everything, I guess. I’ve had a lot going on, you see. The business. My divorce…”

  Hadley proceeded to explain at some length that, despite his outward bravura, he was on the inside the most wretched man on the planet. Since the breakup of his marriage, he told her, he had known only sadness and loneliness. His spirits were in perpetual darkness, and it was all he could do just to get out of bed each morning to face the day. He went on for a time in this same vein, until finally his voice trailed away and he gazed straight ahead down the road, a forlorn expression coming over his face.

  Loretta didn’t know what to say, for he had taken her very much by surprise. For the first time all evening, Hadley was suddenly behaving like something other than the self-assured boor that she had become convinced he was. He was acting vulnerable and human. His changed demeanor gave her to wonder if perhaps she had been mistaken, that she had judged him too harshly and too quickly. He was now showing himself to her in a different light, one that rekindled in Loretta the hope that had all but flickered out just a short while ago. She realized that this new person, for Hadley did indeed seem to her a new person, might be one worth getting to know better. With that in mind, she no longer felt so anxious for the evening to end.

  Loretta, however, said nothing until they came to the house and Hadley pulled into the driveway. As they sat there in awkward silence, the car’s engine idling, she let a dramatic moment pass before finally turning to him.

  “Would you like to come in, and maybe we could talk for a little while?” she asked softly.

  Hadley turned grateful eyes to her. “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Loretta told him. “I’m sure.”

  “Okay then,” he said, a smile curling the corners of his mouth as he turned the engine off. “In that case, I’d love to come in.”

  Francesca greeted them at the door when the two walked up the front steps. Loretta laughed to herself, for she had noticed the older woman standing at the living room window, keeping watch like a nervous mother waiting up for a teenaged daughter.

  “I hope the children weren’t any trouble, Mrs. Campanile,” said Loretta when she and Hadley came inside.

  “No trouble at all, Mrs. Simmons,” she assured her. “They both went right upstairs to bed like little angels. I haven’t heard a peep out of them since.” She began to put on her coat. “Did you have a nice time tonight?”

  “Very nice,” said Hadley before Loretta could make her own reply.

  “Oh, good,” said Francesca, giving him a suspicious, sideways glance. She buttoned up her coat and pulled on her hat, and was just opening her mouth to say something else to Loretta when Hadley leaned over and touched her elbow.

  “Shall I walk you to your car?” he asked with a grin. “As you said before, it is a bit dark and icy out there.”

  “No, I’ll be fine,” Francesca told him. Then, turning to Loretta, “Well, good night, Mrs. Simmons.”

  “Good night, Mrs. Campanile,” replied Loretta, holding the door for her. “Thank you so much for coming tonight.”

  “Anytime,” the older woman answered kindly. “I was happy to do it. I’ll see you on Monday.” With that, she went on her way.

  Loretta stood at the door and watched while Francesca got into her car.

  “Alone at last,” said Hadley behind her as he ambled into the living room. He took off his coat and casually tossed it across the arm of the sofa.

  “Why don’t you sit and relax,” suggested Loretta once Francesca had driven off and she had closed the door. “I’ll get us something to drink. Some wine or maybe coffee, if you like.”

  “Please, don’t go to the trouble,” said Hadley, settling onto the sofa. He looked up at her and patted the seat cushion beside him in a gesture of invitation. “Why don’t you just come and join me?”

  What happened next was, for Loretta, a disheartening scene that had been played out more than once before in
her life. No sooner had she seated herself at a discreet distance from him than without warning, Hadley suddenly reached out and took her in his arms. Professing an uncontrollable passion for her, and obviously under the mistaken assumption that his feelings in the matter were somehow reciprocated, he pulled her close and pressed his mouth to hers in the most awkward and offensive way. Stunned by this clumsy amorous assault, Loretta did her best to fend off his advances, but he was stronger than she had imagined and quite intent, it seemed, on his purpose.

  “What are you doing?” she hissed at him, trying to squirm out of his embrace. In that moment, it all became clear that his contrite confession in the car on the drive home had been nothing but a ploy aimed at winning him an invitation to come inside. Loretta was furious at herself for not having seen through the ruse. How many more times would she fall for it?!

  “Come on, Loretta,” Hadley implored her, holding her tighter. “The kids are asleep upstairs. They’ll never know.”

  “Never know what?” answered Loretta, even though she understood his meaning all too well.

  “You know,” said Hadley, pausing to ogle her with a ridiculously furtive expression as he pressed himself closer. “We’re both grown-ups here. We both want the same thing. You know how much you—”

  “Mom?”

  The small voice coming from the top of the stairs froze Hadley. To Loretta’s great relief, he had enough decency to immediately release her at the sound of footsteps descending the staircase. By the time Will came into view and peeked over the railing into the living room, Hadley had retreated to the opposite end of the sofa, where he sat in sullen silence, his ardor of just a moment earlier snuffed out like a candle.

  “What is it, Will?” said Loretta, straightening her dress as she jumped up. She hurried over to him, mortified at the prospect that her son might have overheard the goings-on in the living room. As embarrassed as she felt, Loretta had never been more grateful for having one of her children intrude on her social life.

  “It’s Penny,” Will explained. “She says she’s sick. I think she’s gonna throw up.”

  Loretta turned to Hadley, who was doing his best to avoid eye contact with the boy. It gave her a certain pleasure to note that he looked exquisitely pained by the turn of events.

  “I’m sorry, Mister Hadley,” she told him in a tone that conveyed not the slightest bit of warmth, “but I think you’ll have to leave now.”

  Hadley cleared his throat. “Yes, of course,” he said, getting to his feet. “I understand completely.” With that, he took his coat in hand and made haste for the door, never once looking at Will. “Could I call you again sometime?” he asked with astonishing boldness.

  “How about if I call you?” snipped Loretta, holding the door open for him.

  Hadley stepped outside, then suddenly stuck his head back in through the door. “But do you know my number?” he asked.

  “Doesn’t everybody?” said Loretta. Then she unceremoniously pushed his head out and slammed the door shut. Feeling like every drop of energy had been wrung out of her, she turned to Will and slumped back against the wall.

  “Is he gone?” said Penny, coming to the top of the staircase. She looked down at her mother with worried eyes.

  “I guess you’re not getting ready to throw up,” Loretta observed.

  “I’m feeling a little better,” her daughter said sheepishly.

  “Sorry, Mom,” said Will. “We couldn’t think of anything else to do to make him go away.”

  “Thanks, guys,” said Loretta, putting her arm around her son to lead him back to bed. “Sorry for all the fuss.”

  “He’s not coming back, is he, Mom?” Penny asked as the three climbed the stairs.

  “Nope,” said Loretta. “That’s one thing I can promise you.”

  Later, after she had tucked the children back in bed and gotten herself undressed, a discouraged Loretta collapsed into bed. For a time, she lay there simply staring at the ceiling, her mind turning the evening’s events over and over, until she could think about them no more. Her heart heavy, she rolled onto her side and wept softly while she waited for sleep to overtake her and erase the hurt of it all from her consciousness. As she had too many times come to know, hope’s triumph over experience was very often short-lived.

  CHAPTER 29

  “Good weekend?” said Shirley.

  The inevitable cup of coffee in hand, she was sitting back against the edge of Loretta’s desk, looking down at her coworker, who was doing her best to get herself organized. It was Monday morning, and Loretta was in her usual state of near-despondency, a mood that descended on her at the start of virtually every workweek.

  “Let’s just say it was forgettable,” she replied with a weary sigh, “and leave it at that.”

  “Oh, come on,” prodded Shirley. “You can do better than that. Tell me all about how Saturday night went with You-Know-Who.”

  Loretta gaped at her friend.

  “How on earth did you know about that?” she exclaimed.

  “Oh, I have my ways,” said a smug Shirley. “But I can never reveal my sources. You know how it is, attorney–client privilege. So, go on. Tell me what happened!”

  “Nothing happened,” said Loretta with grim firmness, “absolutely nothing.” Then, rolling her eyes, she added, “Thank God.”

  “Ooh,” cooed Shirley, her curiosity even more piqued. “Sounds like an intriguing tale. I did warn you, of course, but you wouldn’t listen. So, come on. Let’s have it. Enquiring minds need to know.” She looked at Loretta with pleading, inquisitive eyes.

  Loretta gave a little laugh. She considered spilling all the beans, for she could see no harm in it, but in truth, she simply was in no mood to relive Saturday night’s escapade. It was all still too fresh in her mind, and she was trying her best to forget it.

  “Some other time,” Loretta finally told her. “Maybe someday when you start writing for the tabloids.”

  “Oh, you’re no fun,” Shirley pouted. She looked ready to nag her some more on the subject, but instead leaned closer and looked with concern into Loretta’s face. “Hey, kid, you look a little peaked today,” she said. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “Just really tired,” said Loretta with a shrug, “but that’s nothing new.”

  Shirley reached out and put the back of her hand against Loretta’s forehead. “I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “You feel a little warm. You better be careful, I think you might be coming down with something.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Loretta smiled. “I’ll remember to button up my overcoat.”

  “Hey, it’s no joke,” said Shirley. “You have to take care of yourself this time of year. There’s all sorts of stuff going around.” Shirley could not help but share with Loretta a horrendous story she had recently read about a woman somewhere out in the Midwest who had succumbed to a mysterious respiratory infection that still had all her doctors baffled. After imparting this happy tale, she eventually went on her way to start her own workday.

  A short while later that morning, Mr. Pace happened to amble by Loretta’s desk. On his shoulder rode a new putter he was intending to put to the test when he reached his office.

  “Good morning, Loretta,” he greeted her in his always-pleasant way.

  “Good morning, Mister Pace,” she said brightly, though she was feeling anything but. “Planning to play eighteen today?”

  “I think I’ll only have time for nine,” he confided with a wink. “It’s kind of tough this time of year.”

  “Sounds like a good time for a trip to Florida,” she suggested.

  “Ah, now there’s an idea,” he replied with a wistful sigh.

  Instead of moving on to his office, Pace lingered there for a few moments, whistling softly while casting a glance about the office. Looking vaguely ill at ease, he fidgeted with the handle of the putter and cleared his throat, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get up the nerve.

  “Was there som
ething you wanted, Mister Pace?” Loretta asked, hoping to put him at ease.

  Pace leaned closer.

  “Actually,” he began in a tentative voice, “I just thought I’d mention that I heard through the grapevine that you and Ned Hadley had dinner Saturday night.” At the look of chagrin on her face, he quickly added by way of explanation, “I have one or two friends at that club, you see.”

  “Ugh,” Loretta groaned, for she wanted to crawl under her desk. Was there anyone who didn’t know about her pathetic attempt at a social life? Though it had no exact written policy, it was common knowledge that the firm frowned upon romantic liaisons between employees and clients. Worse, she had—almost—had one with a personal friend of the firm’s senior partner. She cringed as she waited for the expected reprimand. To her surprise, however, none was forthcoming. Instead, Pace looked down at her with fatherly concern.

  “I, um, hope all went well,” he said delicately.

  “It depends on how you’d define the word ‘well,’” answered Loretta. She looked up and gave him a dejected shrug.

  Pace let out a grunt of consternation. “I’ve known the Hadleys for years,” he said. “Wonderful, good-hearted people, but I’m afraid the son is a bit of a…well, let’s just say that he has something of a reputation.”

  “Don’t worry,” Loretta told him with a rueful smile, “I managed to keep my reputation intact—just barely.”

  “Good girl,” said Pace, seeming much relieved. Then, in a regretful voice, “I have to apologize, though. I really should have said something to you much sooner when I first saw him taking an interest, but I thought it best to not interfere. Besides, nobody likes it when the old man goes around butting his nose into other people’s business.”

  “Well, from now on, feel free to butt your nose into my business any time you want,” Loretta assured him. She started to stand, intending to fix Pace’s tie, which was once again dreadfully askew, but suddenly feeling light-headed and weak, she plopped right back down in her chair.

 

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