by J. J. Murray
“Yes,” Tony said.
“And I can . . .” Oh God, I hope I’m enough for this man. “And I can . . . take care of you.”
“I will take care of you,” Tony said. He looked directly into her eyes. “I see you.”
Trina stared back. “I see you seeing me.”
“I am not scaring you with my eyes,” Tony said. “I am not looking away.”
“I know,” Trina said.
“I am not looking away, Trina,” Tony said. “I think it is love. I think love is looking someone in the eye and not scaring them.”
Trina nodded. “That’s a great definition of love.” Maybe the best one I’ve ever heard. “Are you scared about being on your own?”
“I am not on my own,” Tony said. “I am with you.” He kissed her lips briefly. “I would like to make a snowflake child with you now.”
“One for each knee,” Trina said.
“Yes,” Tony said. “But we will have to get a bigger house for hide-and-seek.”
“It would be too easy to find our children here,” Trina said.
“We would hear their laughter, and we would find them,” Tony said.
“Isn’t that the point?” Trina asked.
“Yes,” Tony said. “That is the point. I will have to have my piano shipped to San Francisco. I would also like to go to the mountains. I have never been to the mountains. I would like to go to the beach here. I have been to Fire Island. It is nice. I want to learn how to surf at the beach here.”
“We can go to the beach,” Trina said, “when you take me to Los Angeles for the Grammy Awards. It’s only a few weeks away.”
“I have never been to the Grammy Awards,” Tony said. “Angelo would not let me go.”
“You can go now,” Trina said. “You’re your own man, right?”
“Yes,” Tony said. “We are going to the Grammy Awards.”
“So I can see you get your awards,” Trina said.
“I have only one nomination this year,” Tony said. “I will not win.”
“How do you know?” Trina asked.
“You were not in the song,” Tony said.
He fills my heart with so many wonderful words! “You say the nicest things.”
“I like to say nice things to you,” Tony said. “You smile when I say nice things.”
“I have never smiled more,” Trina said. She sighed. “But I might not be smiling too much on Monday, Tony. I might be losing my job.”
“You will not lose your job,” Tony said. “I will go with you to make sure.”
Trina rubbed his arms. “You’re not allowed in the meeting.”
“I do not have to be at the meeting to make sure,” Tony said.
“I appreciate your confidence, but I did lie, and I’m sure I’ll be suspended for a while and not have enough money to pay some bills this month.”
“I will pay them for you,” Tony said. “I will also get you a new rain jacket.”
He is so practical! “I want you to know I love you for you, okay?”
“I know you love me for me,” Tony said. “You see how I am, and that is all I have to be.”
“Right,” Trina said. “I’m not a gold digger, am I?”
“You are gold,” Tony said.
“I don’t care how much money you have,” Trina said, “as long as I have you to cuddle with and hold all night.”
Tony blinked. “I do not know how much money I have. I must find out. Angelo will tell me.” He dug his cell phone from his pocket and hit the number one. “Angelo, it is Tony. How are you? . . . I am okay. I need to know how much money I have . . . Okay. Thank you. Bye.” Tony turned off his phone. “Angelo says I have around fifty million dollars.”
Trina tried not to react, but she failed, her entire body shaking. “Fifty . . . million.”
“Yes,” Tony said. “Will that be enough for us to get a house?”
Trina nodded quickly. Fifty . . . million. That’s over . . . six hundred years of my salary.
“Good,” Tony said. “I want a big house with lots of hiding places for our children.”
Trina tried to catch her breath. “I have to have a much bigger kitchen.”
“I want lots of windows,” Tony said. “We can watch the weather together without a television.”
“Sure,” Trina said. “You’ll want a music room, too, right?”
“Every room in our house will have music in it,” Tony said. “I want to look for a house now.”
“It’s two o’clock in the morning, Tony,” Trina said.
“That is what the Internet is for, Trina,” Tony said.
Oh yeah! Trina hopped off Tony’s lap, got her netbook, and returned to the couch. While it booted up, she asked, “How much do you want to spend on a house?”
“I do not know,” Tony said. “I have never bought a house.”
Me neither. She surfed to realtor.com and toyed with the first slider. “Um, could we spend . . .” Her fingers grew moist. “A million?”
“I do not know,” Tony said. “Let us find the house first.”
House first, cost second. This is how house-hunting should be done. Then Trina did something she had never done on any Web site ever—she hit the HIGHEST TO LOWEST button.
Wow. Thirty million. She clicked on the 12,000-square-foot neomodern monstrosity. “What about this one?”
“No,” Tony said. “I do not like the shape. It looks more like a turtle than a house.”
She clicked back and saw a massive brick house on Franklin Street in Pacific Heights—only a mile away from here!—for ten million. “What about this one?”
“That is the one,” Tony said.
“It’s, um, it’s ten million dollars, Tony,” Trina said. “Do we really need something this big?”
“Yes,” Tony said, clicking on the house. “It was built in 1900,” he said. “That means it survived the 1906 earthquake. It is close to the cable cars.”
Ten thousand square feet, twenty-five times the size of this little apartment. Eight bedrooms, four and a half baths!
“It has four stories,” Tony said. “And a library for my map books.”
Six fireplaces, a state-of-the-art chef’s kitchen opening to a spacious deck. “It even has a guest kitchen and an apartment with a separate entrance, Tony.”
“For when Aika and Angelo visit,” Tony said. “It has an elevator, too. I like elevators.”
“Walking distance to Whole Foods, restaurants, and Lafayette Park,” Trina said. “It sounds perfect, Tony, but it costs ten million dollars.”
“I want to look at the slide show,” Tony said.
They watched forty-six pictures go by.
Oh, this is a magnificent house! Look at the high ceilings! The crown molding! The pocket doors! A huge sit-down shower! Oh, and the views from the top floor are inspiring!
“Do you like it, Trina?”
Oh yes! “I love it, but it’s—”
“I will buy it for you,” Tony interrupted.
“But we don’t need ten thousand square feet, Tony,” Trina said.
“You said you loved it,” Tony said. “I like it. We will buy it.”
“Are you sure?” Trina asked.
Tony nodded. “I watched your eyes while we looked at the pictures. They were happy. They were a child’s eyes. I want to give you this house.”
Trina hugged him. “I want you to give me this home.” She kissed him. “We can call the Realtor Monday to see if it’s still on the market.”
“Yes.” Tony settled back into the couch. “And we will move in on Tuesday.”
“Um, let’s see how Monday goes first,” Trina said. “It takes time to close on a house.” Or so I’ve heard.
“If I pay ten million dollars,” Tony said, “they will give me the house on Monday.”
“I don’t know about that,” Trina said. “And I wouldn’t offer them the asking price anyway.”
Tony pointed at the screen. “This is the price of the hou
se.”
“That’s the starting point for negotiations,” Trina said. As if I know anything about this. “We’ll put in a lower bid and see what happens.”
“A lower bid,” Tony said.
“Yes,” Trina said. “Something less than ten million dollars. Say we offer nine million, and they drop it to nine million eight, then we offer them nine million two—”
“We will offer fifty cents,” Tony interrupted.
Trina laughed. “For a ten-million-dollar house?”
“If they come down fifty cents, and we go up fifty cents,” Tony said, “we will meet in the middle at five million.”
I can’t fault his logic, but . . . “We might offer, say, eight million in order to get nine.”
“I like my way better,” Tony said.
So do I, but no one is going to part with a 10,000-square-foot house in pristine condition in Pacific Heights for five million dollars. “Let’s fill out this interest form and try to set up a tour for Monday. That way we won’t have to call them at all, okay?”
“Okay.”
Trina swung the netbook toward her. “What should I put for name?”
“Tony and Trina,” Tony said.
“Um, you’re the one buying the house,” Trina said. Trina added “Art E.” as Tony’s middle name. “So they take us seriously,” Trina said. “What time should I tell them?”
Tony blinked. “I do not know.”
“How about eleven?” Trina asked.
“Okay,” Tony said.
Trina listed both her and Tony’s cell phone numbers and sent the e-mail. She held his hand. “Promise me you’ll always dream with me like this.”
“I promise to dream with you,” Tony said.
“Do you want me to promise you anything?” Trina asked.
“Promise to teach me new things,” Tony said.
“Like what?” Trina asked.
“Like how to cook beef stew or how to make sheets soft or how to make a bathtub shiny or how to wash dishes or how to give you more orgasms or how to wash clothes or how to drive a car or how to swim—”
“Hold up,” Trina interrupted. “You want me to teach you how to give me more orgasms?”
“Yes,” Tony said. “I want you to teach me other ways. I know if I press your button or you press your button or you put shower water on your button you will have an orgasm.”
Trina stood and dragged Tony to the bedroom. “I’m going to teach you another way.”
Tony took off all his clothes in less than ten seconds. “I am ready.”
Having a gorgeous naked man in front of me certainly helps our lesson.
“Take off your clothes, Trina,” Tony said.
And having a man asking me to take off my clothes helps, too, but not as much as having him take them off for me. “I want you to take off my clothes.”
Tony unzipped her pants and pulled them down.
“Slowly, Tony,” Trina said. “Build up some anticipation.”
“How slowly?” Tony asked.
She bent down, pulled up her pants, and zipped her fly. “I’ll talk you through it.”
“Okay.”
She closed her eyes. “Unzip my pants.” She heard the zipper and felt his fingers. “Remove my pants a little at a time.” She felt his fingers tugging at her pants, felt his fingers sliding down her thighs and calves. She felt Tony pick up one foot and then the other. “Stand up and unbutton my shirt from the top down. Count to . . . five between buttons.” She felt his hands and fingers on her chest and then her stomach. “Take off my shirt.” She felt his hands on her arms and shoulders. “Undo my bra and throw it somewhere.” She felt his fingers on her back and heard the bra hitting the wall. “Now using only your teeth, take off my underwear.”
Trina felt nothing for a solid minute.
She opened one eye and looked down. “Um, are you okay down there?”
“I am analyzing the problem,” Tony said. He nodded. “Turn around.”
Gladly. Trina closed her eyes, turned around, and felt hot hands on her legs, felt little nibbles at the tops of her buttocks, felt a nose go between her buttocks, felt herself getting moist as her underwear slid down her legs. One foot rose and then the other. “Lead me to the bed.” She felt Tony’s hand grab hers until her thighs contacted the edge of the bed. She reclined, resting her head on a pillow. “Now . . . spread my legs as wide as you can.” She felt his hot hands gripping her ankles, and she started to pant. “Now put your tongue on my button.”
“Small circles or big circles?” Tony whispered.
“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” Trina said. “Circles, lots of circles.” She felt the tip of Tony’s tongue on her clitoris.
“Your button is hard,” he whispered. “It does not hurt.”
“No,” Trina whispered, reaching down and holding on to Tony’s hair.
“I am sorry I keep asking questions,” Tony said.
She felt his tongue making small circles. “Don’t be.” She felt him stop.
“How will I know you have had an orgasm this way?” Tony asked.
“I will pull your hair and try to strangle you with my thighs,” Trina groaned. Just don’t keep stopping like that!
“You will strangle me,” Tony said.
“I’m going to try to,” Trina whispered. “And when I do, that’s when you spread my legs even wider and put yourself deep inside me, okay?”
“Okay.”
Tony’s tongue returned. Trina hummed Aaliyah’s “Rock the Boat,” and as she bucked her hips and cried out, she felt something hard and massive enter her. “Don’t stop, don’t stop . . .”
“You did not strangle me,” Tony said.
“I’d be crazy if I did that, Tony,” she said, reaching up and clawing at his chest.
“I am very deep,” Tony said. “It does not hurt.”
It does a little, but I don’t want to explain that to him now. “Just . . . don’t stop.”
“I will not stop,” Tony said, and he made the bed rock.
Oh, I hope we’re making a snowflake child to play hide-and-seek with in our new ten-million-dollar home.
And even if we aren’t, we are going to rock this bed all night long.
40
After spending most of Sunday in bed, interrupted only by a long shower and a quick trip to Brooklyn Pizza on Jones Street for Philly cheesesteak sandwiches and a large New York Specials pizza, and after another night of fierce and passionate bliss, Trina and Tony walked hand in hand through a gantlet of reporters in front of Saint Francis Memorial Hospital at 6:30 AM on Monday morning.
“Trina, how does it feel to be almost unemployed?”
“How does it feel to throw away your career?”
“Will you be going to the Grammys, Tony?”
“Trina, are you wearing the shoes Tony bought you?”
“Tony, how does it feel to be dating a liar?”
I want to tell them I’m in love with Tony, Trina thought. I want to tell them I will miss this job so much. I want to tell them I will miss helping people with the wonderful people here. I want to tell them about the snowflake children we’ve been trying to make. I want to tell them I lied for love, but they’ll only twist my words into more lies.
“You are saying nothing,” Tony said.
“I have learned a thing or two from you,” Trina said.
“I am not a teacher,” Tony said.
“You’re the best teacher I’ve ever had,” Trina said. “You’ve taught me that silence is loudest sometimes.”
“Silence is very loud today,” Tony said.
They entered the hospital and rode the elevator up to the fourth floor. When the elevator doors opened, a crowd of smiling and cheering nurses blocked their exit.
Trina hugged Naini and several of the other “dark” nurses. “What are you all doing here?”
“We are here to give you moral support,” Naini said. “We are all rooting for you.”
“Thank you,” Trina sai
d. “Thank you all.” She pulled Tony out of the elevator. “This is Tony.”
“Hi, Tony,” the nurses said in unison.
“Hello,” Tony said, his eyes looking around them.
Is he blushing? Trina thought. My goodness! His cheeks are red. This has to be a first.
One nurse took a quick picture of Tony with her cell phone. “Sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t resist.”
Tony smiled. “It is okay. I hope Trina is in the picture, too. It is only a good picture if Trina is in it.”
“Aww,” the nurses cooed.
Tony blushed again.
“You should really get back to work,” Trina said, taking Tony’s hand and moving toward a door marked with a DISCIPLINARY REVIEW BOARD IN SESSION sign. “ES is on the other side of this door,” she whispered. “I’ll try to keep her occupied for as long as I can.”
All the nurses but Naini scattered down the hallways. “I will be thinking of you.” She hugged Trina tenderly, squeezed Tony’s free hand, and left.
Tony blinked. “Naini hugged you with her whole body. Does Naini love you?”
“As a friend,” Trina said. “She’s nervous for me, Tony. Sometimes women hug each other like that to calm themselves down.”
“Are you nervous?” Tony asked.
“Not if you’re out here waiting for me when this is over,” Trina said.
Tony’s phone rang. “I do not recognize the number,” he said.
“It could be the Realtor,” Trina said. “Answer it.”
“Yes, I am Tony Santangelo. . . . Yes, I play the piano.... Trina Woods will be with me. . . . Eleven o’clock today. I will see you then.” He put his phone into his pocket. “We will go look at our house at eleven o’clock today.”
Yes! Our house! “I don’t know how long this will take, but I hope not long. Why don’t you wait in the lounge at the end of the hall?” She gave him some change. “You can get something from the vending machine.”
“Okay.” He kissed her cheek.
Trina sighed. “Wish me luck.”
“I wish you luck.” Tony winked.
Trina smiled. “You winked at me, Tony.”
“I must try to keep this relationship fresh.”
She draped her arms around his neck. “After this weekend, we can only get fresher.” She kissed him on the chin. “I’ll see you soon.”