“Very good, sir.” He turned to leave.
“Wait,” Marie said to me, “As long as he’s here. You’ll have to pay for it anyway, right?”
“Sure, of course.”
“Bruno, honey, don’t do something like this again, please?” She smiled, went up on her toes, and kissed me, then pulled my head down, whispered in my ear. “Thank you, you big jerk.”
I took her hand and followed the driver, who opened the back door for us. Inside, a champagne bottle dripping with condensation waited in a silver ice bucket.
“Oh, my God. Bruno?”
She grabbed my hand and pulled us in. “What’s the special occasion?”
The driver closed the door. The little subdued light inside stayed on.
“I don’t tell you enough how much I love you,” I said. “You deserve a lot more than this.”
Tears filled her eyes, the emotion contagious. I swiped at my own.
I already wanted this evening to never end and tried hard to imprint it on my memory.
At the same time, I forced Noble’s words into that part of my mind where I didn’t often venture. Try as I might to believe differently, I knew he’d end up ruining this absolutely perfect occasion.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, the limo pulled up to the front of El Toro, where the valet for the restaurant opened the limo door. We’d managed to drink two glasses of champagne each on the drive. I didn’t drink much, and the wine really hit me and smoothed off the hard edges to the evening. I’d started to relax, not realizing how pent-up I’d been.
Marie stepped out and, at the same time, leaned her head back and kissed me. “I wish you would’ve told me ahead of time. I would’ve worn a nicer dress and my good shoes.”
“You’ll still be the most beautiful woman in the joint.” And I meant it. I followed her out and feigned a little limp.
She gripped my hand tight, “What’s the matter? Why are you limping?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, I think I picked up a little rock in my shoe.”
The hostess escorted us to the prearranged table—best in the house—on the patio overlooking the ocean, out under the stars. A billion stars. On the horizon, a fat and happy full moon rested for a moment on its journey across the heavens. The waiter set a bottle of champagne on the table, also prearranged, as I pulled Marie’s chair out for her.
“Bruno, more wine?” She lowered her tone. “If you’re looking to be rewarded later tonight for being a good boy, you had me with the limo.”
I leaned down and kissed her on her exposed shoulder. When confronted with a situation she wasn’t accustomed to, my lovely girl, a fiery Puerto Rican, tended toward the vulgar. Okay by me.
I moved my chair around closer to hers so I could hold her hand. Sometimes I couldn’t get enough of her and needed to be touching her in order to feel whole. She rested her head on my shoulder. I had to scrunch down to get it done.
She nodded to the flower arrangement on the table. “Nice touch with the red roses.”
“Can you believe that moon?” I said.
The warm and moist ocean breeze blew in, caressing our skin, and making the candles on the table gutter.
The waiter popped the cork and poured the champagne just as the music came on, the song I’d requested ahead of time: “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic,” by The Police. The song we loved to listen to together.
She gripped my hand tighter. “Bruno, what’s going on?”
My voice caught. “You want to dance?”
She froze.
“Oh, my God, Bruno.” Her hand flew to her mouth as she figured me out.
I stood, took her hand, and walked her to the hardwood dance floor. We danced slowly, our bodies together. Her tears wet my shoulder.
The song ended where it was supposed to, far too soon.
I went down on one knee. Her shoulders shook with happiness as tears streamed down her cheeks. I took the ring box from my sock.
All the diners in the restaurant turned silent, no longer talking or clinking glassware or silverware. They melted away until only Marie remained in my world.
I had to swallow hard. “I don’t ever want to wake in the morning, not a single morning, and not be with you. Will you marry me and spend the rest of your life with me?”
She couldn’t speak and nodded vigorously. I put the ring on her finger, a large marquise-cut diamond with a gold setting, one we really couldn’t afford.
Patrons, who’d paused their meal, clapped. The world started up again.
She held up her hand to look at the ring as I stood. She threw her arms around my neck. I swung her off her feet. We stayed that way a long time, slowly turning around and around. I didn’t want the moment to end. I had never seen her happier.
I set her down and we walked hand in hand to the table. I held her chair for her and scooted her in. She held the ring up again, moving it from side to side in the light. The facets twinkled right along with her eyes. “Oh, Bruno, I had no clue, really I didn’t.” She looked at me, “This was the supposed rock in your shoe? You were having fun with me?”
“All part of the service, ma’am.”
The waiter brought the menus. We ordered sautéed mushrooms, steak and lobster. The mushrooms came as we both finished our third glass of wine.
Marie’s words held just a hint of slur, but it might’ve been caused from the smile that had never left her lovely countenance.
“There’s this young girl,” she said. “One I treated at the clinic today. She came from the orphanage. She’s so damn cute, Bruno, you just wouldn’t believe it unless you saw her.”
I stopped the fork halfway to my mouth as I looked at her.
“What?” she asked.
“You have a heart the size of Texas, my love, but we just don’t have the room. Ten is our limit. That’s the number we agreed upon. And if that’s not enough, we don’t have a fake ID and passport for her. You know what we have going on. If the Sons of Satan come looking for me, we’re going to have to drop everything. We’ll have to leave at a moment’s notice. The escape plan is already set. We might be running to Panama at any minute.”
She play-slapped my shoulder. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. That’s not at all what I meant. Of course we couldn’t afford another, silly.”
“Oh, really?” I put the mushroom in my mouth and chewed.
“And about that other thing, it’s been three months; no one’s coming after us. I like it here, Bruno. I think we should stay right here. Panama’s not as modern.”
I ate another mushroom. We had a plan and an emergency code in place: Rosebud. Dad thought of it, he took it from the movie Citizen Kane. If I spotted something suspicious at work or on the way home, I had only to call and say the word Rosebud to get things rolling, to start the family evacuation. I’d evade and distract and, when safe, meet up with them in Panama.
“This poor little girl, Jenny, her name’s Jenny, she lost her arm in some sort of agricultural accident. It must’ve been absolutely horrible for her.” She put her fork down. “And, Bruno, you ought to see her, she acts like nothing ever happened. Goes about life as if everyone else in the world only has one arm. She’s only ten. With her personality and drive she’s … she’s going to grab the world by the tail.”
“I’m sorry, no.”
“The biggest brown eyes, you ever did see.”
“No.”
The music shifted to Joe Sample, “Hippies on the Corner.” I scooted my chair out, got up, and held out my hand. She stood and swayed just a bit from the wine. On the dance floor, we moved with the music as I continued to ride the wave of perfect elation, euphoria I’d not experienced my entire life.
I held on to her too tightly as she snuggled in closer. We’d have to eat something more substantial before we drank any more wine.
In the evenings at home, after work and when the children were all in bed asleep, we’d sometimes dance in the dark. Not a dance really, more just clin
ging to each other, not wanting to let go, lost in a melody and love song lyrics. She liked to shove her balled-up fists in my front pants pockets and pull me in tighter, a move not appropriate in public. The wine dissolved the minor social improprieties and this night she stuck her balled-up fists in my pockets. Another minute passed. She melted into me even more. We became one as we moved in a trance, unaware of the world around us.
When I looked up next, the music had stopped. I had no idea for how long. Over at our table, the waiter set down our meals.
“Come on,” I whispered. “Time to eat.”
“No, I want to stay right here.”
“Me too, but I’m hungry and we both need to get some food into us.”
She nodded. We parted. Her hand came out of my pocket with a wadded-up piece of paper.
“Here,” I said, “gimme that, it’s just trash.” I tried to suppress my panic.
She pulled the wad away from me, took a step back. I had not masked my panic well enough, and she’d detected it.
“Marie, babe, please let me have it.”
“Bruno, what is it?”
No way could I lie to her. “I’ll show it to you in the morning.”
I held my hand out, waiting for her to give it to me, kicking myself for putting it back in my pocket when I changed into my suit. Somehow Dad’s strategy had burrowed deep under my skin, and I could not let Noble get away from me again, not after twenty-five years, my younger brother in the form of a wadded-up piece of paper I kept in my pocket.
She looked into my eyes for a long moment and then unwrapped the letter.
CHAPTER NINE
HER LIPS MOVED as she read the words. Her mouth dropped open. The worst of it was her eyes, the betrayal she saw in me. She looked up shaking her head. “No. Not this time, no. Never again. You promised me. You said never again, remember? You promised. You’re not going back.”
We stood there. I didn’t want to hurt her, especially on her special night. I held my hands open. “I’m not going.”
She hesitated, as if she didn’t believe me. “Good. Bruno, you can’t continue to tempt fate like you’re doing. The odds are … no, they will fall against you, and then what?” Her voice caught.
“I’m not gonna go.”
She turned, walked back to the table, sat, shook out the napkin on her lap, picked up her fork, and took a bite of the braised asparagus.
I sat down and cut a piece from the perfectly grilled steak. I put it up to my mouth just as she said, “I’m going with you.”
I brought my fork down. “I’m not going, okay?”
She nodded and took another bite, this time of baked potato. She pointed the fork at me. No words came out, at a total loss as to what to say.
“Babe, we’re not going. Neither one of us. No, we’re not. We’re not going.”
She dropped her fork, her eyes went big, her mouth dropped open.
“What?” I asked. “What do I have to do?”
“No,” she half-yelled. “This,” she held up her ring, not minutes old now, and waved her arm around, “All this. You asked me to marry you because you wanted me to be all right with this?” She held up Noble’s crumpled letter.
Now my mouth dropped open. “No, no, no, listen to me, please. Dad gave me the letter this afternoon. I’ve been planning this, all this, for a month now.”
She shook the paper in her fist. “Doesn’t matter. You had this information before we started out tonight and you chose to go ahead with it? To go ahead with it before you told me about this?” Tears filled her eyes. “You ruined it, Bruno. You ruined all of it. The memory we were making.” She got up and rushed out.
I tossed some money on the table and ran after her.
Out in front of the hotel, the wind had come up and clouds blew in, slowly obscuring the stars. Marie stomped one way, turned, and stomped the other. “Where’s the limo? I wanna go home. Now, Bruno, I want to go home.”
The lump in my throat had grown so large I could hardly breathe. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was to hurt her. And that’s exactly what I had done.
I reached down and slipped my loafer off, took the room key out, a large metal one. “I got us the honeymoon suite.” My voice low, barely audible.
She crossed her arms, held herself tight, and shook her head, her face crumpled into tears. I stepped over to her and took her in my arms. I hugged her a long time. I guided us toward the room, a bungalow right on the sand.
The clouds caught up to the other side of the hotel and started to eat the moon alive, the night growing dark. I stopped, scooped her legs, and carried her the rest of the way. She put her arm around my neck and nuzzled her nose in close, her tears wetting my neck.
The warm breeze turned cool.
I stuck the key in the lock without setting her down, opened the door, and went in. I carried her over to the bed, pulled down the spread, and set her gently on the blanket. She wouldn’t let go of my neck and pulled me down on top of her. She kissed me, hot and passionate. Her breathing got faster and faster. She pulled at my tie, at my shirt, turning more and more frantic. I tried to stand to take my clothes off. She pulled me back down. We rolled, switched position with her on top. She shucked her blouse, un-hooked her bra, and tossed it. She took my face in both hands and kissed me. A ravenous kiss.
* * *
She got up naked and shivering, went to the double French doors, and closed them, her curvy outline erotic in the shadowed relief. She hurried back to bed and snuggled in close under the covers.
Two hours had passed since we’d fallen into bed and made love, two hours without a word.
“Bruno?”
I struggled to get a look at her. I needed to see her eyes. If I could see her eyes, I would be able to tell if she forgave me. I needed her to forgive me.
“No,” she said, “Stay right like that.” She gently pushed me down and kept her head resting on my chest, my arm around her.
“I’m scared, Bruno. Really scared.”
“I know, so am I. I’m sorry I hurt you, really I am. I didn’t mean to.”
“I know, and I acted foolish.”
“No, you didn’t. You—”
“I did, and you know it. Thank you, though.”
I pulled her in tighter next to me.
She didn’t say anything for a long time. We had all night.
“When I opened that letter,” her voice cracked with emotion, “do you know what I saw?”
I didn’t want to talk about it anymore and could only shake my head.
Her fingernails dug into the flesh on my chest. “I know this sounds creepy and juvenile, but what I saw was … a death warrant. Yours, Bruno. I saw your death warrant.”
I peeled her away from my body, put one hand on her forehead, and moved my nose close to hers. “I’m not going.”
“You sure?” She hiccupped, trying to stifle her tears.
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Bruno.” She kissed me.
I made love to my fiancée for the second time that night.
CHAPTER TEN
WHEN I WOKE, Marie sat on the edge of the bed with two cups of coffee, her hair down about her shoulders, her expression a vibrant glow. I sat up and took one cup from her. She took hers in both hands and sipped, all the time watching me.
I sipped the hot coffee, black, like I’d always drank it when I worked the streets of LA.
She stared deep into my eyes with a connection we never had before but should have. “I’m going with you,” she said.
In the light of the new day, the idea of not going was no longer an option. The night before, fatigue had fueled the denial and masked the reality. If I didn’t go, I couldn’t go on living a normal life. I’d be forever enslaved, forced to drag around a giant emotional anchor that would continue to grow and overshadow all else. I nodded and sipped, not letting go of her stare.
She sipped again and said, “We’re going to be married first, no argument.”
&
nbsp; I nodded. And tried to hide a smile.
“What? This isn’t funny, Bruno Johnson.”
“Is this the way it’s going to be from now on?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You keeping my balls on top of the refrigerator, and, if I have to go out, I have to ask permission to take them along?”
She turned away to keep from smiling. “Yes, that’s right, you’re not responsible enough. Your balls are grounded until further notice.”
“There’s no one I’d rather have as custodian over those little fellas, Marie Johnson.”
She beamed, this time smiling with her eyes as well.
* * *
The limo dropped us off in front of our rented house. We went through the side gate and entered the house through the dining room doors. The whole family sat at the table eating breakfast, chicken and eggs cooked by Rosie. Some of the younger kids started to get up to welcome us. Rosie spoke firmly and they stayed their advance.
Dad, at the head of the table, looking surprised to see us so early, got up as fast as his rickety bones allowed, and made for a quick exit.
“It’s okay, old man,” I said, “Marie knows, and we’re both going to make the trip.”
He stopped and turned, flashing a huge smile. “Good to hear, thank you, Son. Thank you, Marie, for being so understanding.”
“You better have yourself a seat again, though,” I said. “There’s other news.”
He lost his smile. We’d had a lot of news lately, the last couple of years, most of it not good. I still held Marie’s hand and now raised it high in the air. “It’s official; we’re going to be married.”
The older kids cheered, with the younger ones following suit, unsure what had just happened. Dad smiled and hobbled over to hug us both. Rosie got up, eyes welling, and hugged us each in turn.
Dad said, “We’ll have a huge wedding when you get back.”
“No, Dad, it’s tomorrow morning at ten. We have to catch the twelve o’clock to Los Angeles.”
He lost his smile. I put my hand on his shoulder and eased him away from the small crowd all talking at once to Marie.
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