A Soul Mate's Promise

by Soprano, Robin H

  “Well, it will be, if she marries Richard!” Celine says.

  I shake my head. I’ve got a good friend for company and a great drink in hand. I’m not wasting my time on Richard’s stubbornness nor his choice of new companion. “Can we talk about something else?” I suggest.

  “Sure baby,” she says with empathy nod, “let’s go out by that gorgeous pool and have a seat.”

  We walk out on the lanai and take a lounge chair each, cocktails in hand. I see Tony out on his deck reading the paper, so I wave and he waves back.

  “How’s he doing?” Celine asks.

  “Oh, he’s doing good. His son Salvatore is here and living with him now-for how long I’m not sure. He got shot in the line of duty, he’s fine…but, the military gave him some kind of disability discharge, I don’t have the whole story yet, but I gotta tell ya he is one handsome man. When I looked into his eyes I felt something strange - like I knew him from somewhere!”

  “I’ll tell ya what you felt baby-horny! Seriously, how long has it been?” Celine asked with a grin and a wink.

  “Oh my god!” I reply, almost choking on my drink. “Celine, really, I felt a connection I can’t explain.”

  The grumble of a motorcycle coming down the long cul-de-sac road gets louder and louder and we give each other a quizzical look.

  Toby stands and begins to growl. Sure enough, a motorcycle pulls in the little dirt driveway of Tony’s house.

  “Celine that’s him, that’s Sal!”

  Like a gladiator in a stallion-powered chariot, Salvatore Patroni sits on a silver and black Harley Davidson Electra Glide. He isn’t wearing a helmet but has on his baseball cap, dark sunglasses, a black tee shirt and snug fitted jeans.

  He parks, gets off the bike and starts walking to the deck where Tony is sitting. Celine and I get to our feet to get a better view.

  “That’s him!” I say, glancing over at Celine, who looks as though she is about to drool.

  “Oh my! Baby girl, you gotta get you some of that!”

  “Some of what? Him?” I ask, raising my voice an octave higher. “What are you talking about?” I continue, “I’ve gotta get through a divorce! I don’t want to start up a relationship. Men are not on my to-do list right now.”

  Celine barks back at me. “Who’s talkin’ bout a relationship? You need to get laid, let him blow your socks off among other things! Just get yourself some release and let him put a smile back on your face. You deserve it!”

  “Oh I couldn’t…could I?” I ask, feeling like I’m swimming in a pool that’s way too deep for me.. “And what makes you think he would want me anyway?”

  Celine reaches over and hooks a finger at the elastic top of my sundress, glances down at my breasts and grins at me. “Oh Darlin’... you really have to ask?”

  CHAPTER 4

  After too much drink, loads of laughs and some dinner, Celine decides she will spend the night at my place and go home in the morning.

  That night as I lay in bed, my mind is on over load and I can’t shut it down. I’m thinking about Richard and his ridiculous charade, then I’m considering ways to slap that bitch Camille, and finally I wonder if I can bear to get involved with the very handsome Salvatore Petroni.

  I look at the clock next to my bed and it’s two in the morning. I let out a big sigh, get up, step over Toby who is laying on the floor almost under my feet, then hear the thumping of his tail on the hard wood floor.

  “Hey, big boy…I’m going out on the balcony. You wanna come too?”

  Feeling overwhelmed I decide first to head into the bathroom and take a Xanax to calm my nerves. I walk to the edge of my bedroom and open the door. I walk across a landing to French doors that lead out to a small balcony that over looks the ocean.

  From here I can see the whole yard and part of the beach. To the left, I can see Tony’s house and his deck. I take a seat at the railing.

  I watch a little lightening shoot across the sky. I sit there and begin to cry. This is becoming a habit. My late night panic-filled crying attacks take a toll, but I let it out in the hopes of feeling better.

  * * *

  Salvatore Petroni was sitting in the shadows out on the deck of his father’s house. He couldn’t sleep because of the things he was sorting in his head. Adding to the mix, the auburn hair beauty next door, when he heard something. He looked around, then up. He could just about see that it was Gracie, sitting, staring out at the ocean.

  Is she crying? Quietly he went back in the house to grab the binoculars he’d seen on the kitchen counter. As he reached for them in the dark, his Dad wheeled himself out into the living room.

  “ Crap! You scared me! Why aren’t you in bed, Pop?”

  “I could not-a sleep tonight.”

  “Yeah, me either.”

  “What are you doing, son?”

  Sal looked at his father and gave him a concerned look. “I think I hear Gracie… crying? I was gonna get the binoculars…”

  Antonio cut him off..

  “Yeah, yeah, it’s Gracie. She has bad nights sometimes. She has gone through a rough time—she’s a little lonely and heart broken.”

  “Why? What’s her story?”

  “Eh…her and her husband didn’t work out. She has no family left except a brother, ahh Steve, I think is-a his name, but he is out all over the world. Green Peace or-a-some-a-ting, I don’t know. Gracie is a very sweet gal, and she deserves better than what she got dealt. She will be okay, she’s strong.”

  “Should we go check on her, Pop? I feel like we should check…”

  “Let her be,” his father interrupts, “she gets it all out and goes back to bed. I watch her from-a-here.”

  They went out on the deck with the binoculars just in time to see Gracie wipe her face and go back inside, with Toby right behind her.

  “See son? She be alright. Maybe we ask-a-her to come tomorrow for lunch huh?”

  “Okay, Pop, sure, what ever you say.”

  * * *

  Toby wakes me up with a cold nose to my cheek and a long whine.

  “Okay, okay, I’m getting up!”

  Shuffling to the bathroom I brush my teeth, take my vitamins, put on my blue terry cloth shorts and a white Tee shirt, slide on my sneakers and head for the stairs.

  As I am making my way down, the smell of coffee hits my nose, smelling good and for the first time in years, making me think of this mausoleum as a home.

  I enter the kitchen and Celine is bright eyed and raring to go.

  “What are you doing up so early? I figured you sleep through to the afternoon!” I tell her as I reach for a mug to pour the coffee into.

  “Nah,” she says, “I’ve got stuff to do, people to yell at!”

  “Wow, you’re full of energy this morning!” I laugh.

  “Darlin’, listen to me good. Be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “Oh shit she’s up!”

  I grin and nod. “ I love that! You just make my day with your words of wisdom. Where do you come up with this crap?”

  “Facebook,” she replies with a giggle. Her smile fades a little as she points a burgundy-colored fingernail at me. “You know what, baby girl? It’s not crap. That should be your everyday mantra. I know you’re not dumb, but, you need to grow a pair of balls and make shit happen for yourself, like the divorce for one thing. And secondly, you need to go flirt with Antonio’s son. Richard’s moved on-now it’s your turn, baby!”

  “I know, I hear you,” I snap. “Stop mother-henning me.”

  “Mother what? I could be just your older sister at the most, now cut the crap! So, where you off to so early, the sun is just about up?” she asks.

  “Toby and I like to go for a walk on the beach every morning and watch the sunrise. It’s our Zen,” I say, raising an eyebrow.

  “Zen this!” she says and flips me her middle finger.

  I bust out laughing…I always told her it was funny to see a woman of her class, loaded up w
ith her fine jewelry, flipping the bird!

  “Okay darlin’” she says still giggling. “Have a good walk. “You want a coffee to go?”

  “No, but save me some for when I get back. Will you still be here?” I ask.

  “Nope, I gotta boogie on outta here and start my day, check in on the old man. Maybe he kicked the bucket!”

  “Oh, Celine!” I yell, “that’s terrible!” I know she is half-joking, but still…

  “Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch!” she says, waving her hands at me.

  I narrow my eyes and smirk at her. “I can’t …I’m not wearing any!”

  “Thatta girl!” she says with a grin.

  I walk her to the front door and watch her drive off. I can feel the house sigh sadly that the laughter is gone and I shrug off a chill.

  “Ready Toby? Let’s hit the beach.”

  Toby runs to the back of the house, paws slipping on the floor like Scooby-Doo does when he runs in place before he can get a grip.

  We head over to the French doors that lead out to the pool and lanai area, then through the screen door. On the grassy yard we jog over to the little wooden walk way that leads down to the white sandy beach.

  The September sky is doing amazing things for a sunrise spectacular. A mix of peach and lavender streaks light up the horizon as the sunlight just begins to filter through.

  Soon, even here, we’ll be changing into fall without the heavy humidity of summer. I always appreciate the cooler air.

  We’re just about ready to walk back home when I see Salvatore come onto the beach. He has on what looks like might have once been sweat pants, cut into shorts, and sneakers. He’s without his shirt, but the baseball hat and sunglasses are in place.

  As soon as he hits the sand, he starts into a jog. Toby spots him and runs over and I start to walk his way, my heart pounding like I’d been running, myself. We meet halfway between the tideline and the dunes. Toby still unsure, gives him some more growl–n-sniff.

  “Good morning, Sal”

  “Hi,” he answers. “Ummm…when is your dog going to trust me?”

  “He is just really over protective of me,” I say with a smile. “Just give him some time. So you’re jogging the beach this morning?” I gesture with my hand.

  He takes off his hat and runs a hand through his brown curls and chuckles.

  “Yeah, I guess I am. Thought I might take a look around. Care to join me?”

  I look up and smile at him. “We were just on our way back, but thanks anyway. Toby gets me up very early since I don’t sleep well at night anyway.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he says, “I don’t sleep very good either. Oh, Pop wanted me to ask you if you would like to come for lunch later if you can.”

  “I can,” I answer, nodding my head. “Should I bring anything?”

  “No, I’m gonna go over later to the store and pick up some things. Just come by about noon.”

  “Okay, noon it is, I say. “Enjoy your run. Oh, is your dad on deck?” I ask, still smiling.

  “Yeah, he’s there probably waiting on you and Toby here to pass by.”

  We stand there awkwardly smiling at each other.

  “All right,” I say, breaking the awkward moment. “I’ll go sit with him a bit”

  Walking back over the little wooden ramp and towards the houses, I catch my breath. I see Tony and wave.

  “Good morning, Caro!” he yells to me. Did-a-you see my son? Did he ask you to come over for lunch later?”

  “Yes he did! Thank you. I gotta run some errands first. Do you need anything?” Toby and I climb the wooden stairs so I can stop yelling at Tony.

  “No nothing I can think of. Where-a-you go today?” he asks with a concerned look.

  “Well, I need some food for Toby, my Jeep needs gas and the attorney left me a message to come and sign some papers.”

  “What are the papers?”

  “Umm, I’m not sure but he said standard stuff so he can get into the bank accounts, and as he puts it, ‘Nail Richard to a wall.’” I use my fingers on each hand to mimic the quotes and Tony smiles.

  “Caro, bring me a copy of-a-those papers. I want to look them over, too."

  “All right. What would I do without you?” I give him a big bear hug and kiss him on his cheek. “Okay, I’m off! I’ll see you guys in a few hours!”

  As I start to make my way down the steps, I almost get trampled by Sal running up from his jog.

  “WHOOOA! Oh, sorry!” he says, breathing hard through his mouth. He grabs my arms to steady me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine!” I say, smiling. “You came up pretty fast, you in a hurry or what? That was a really fast jog!”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” he keeps apologizing. “I didn’t mean to.. I didn’t think you’d be right here..just momentum and adrenaline, I guess…I’m so sorry…hey, you leaving already?”

  “Ahh..yeah..I have to go into town and do a few things before I come for lunch.

  “Oh,.. hey, ah… where you going?” he asks. “I have to go into town as well, do you want a ride? I can take you if you want?”

  “That’s okay,” I say, “I don’t think I would do so good on the back of a motorcycle.”

  He gives me a sexy smirk and cocks his head to the side knitting his eyebrows together. “Really? I think you would do very well on the back of my bike, but,” he says, raising his cleft chin in my direction, “there is a car we can use.”

  “Yes, your father’s van.”

  “No, there is a car…” he says with that devilish smile.

  “Really?” I ask, confused. “Where? I haven’t seen a—”

  Sal cuts me off with a lift of his finger and looks up at his dad who is watching us.

  “She doesn’t know about the beast, Pop?”

  “Ohhhh, nooo,” Antonio says with a little laughter in his voice. “No son, I never showed her.”

  “Showed me what?” I ask.

  Salvatore blinks at me. “Oh, you need to follow me!”

  I follow him to the garage, he opens the door and I see a big blue tarp covering what I assume is the car he’s referring to.

  “You ready?” he asks.

  I shrug my shoulders, wondering what in the world could be hidden under the cover. “Umm, I guess so.”

  He pulls off the tarp and there sits a little sports car.

  “Well? What do you think? Pretty cool huh?”

  “Umm… what is it?” I ask bunching my eyebrows.

  “What is it?” he exclaims with a smile and look of surprise. “This is a 1995 Dodge Viper!”

  “A Viper?” I repeat. “I kind of remember those, do they still make these?”

  “No,” he says with a grin, “but I did hear that maybe they might start production again.”

  I look at the little charcoal-gray coup with only two seats. “Very small,” I say.

  He glances my way and points to the car. “These cars are now classics. It has a very interesting history–they didn’t make very many because they were not very practical.”

  I walk around the car to get a better look. It has side exhausts and big scallop scoops on the front fenders running into the doors and a light gray interior with a black dashboard.

  Sal begins to tell me he worked on it for a year or two with his dad and brother. They made some changes and had ordered some stuff for it, like a roof.

  “What? The car didn’t have a roof?” I ask.

  “No,” he laughs. “They didn’t come with one in the early years. No windows or door locks, either.”

  “What?! Shut up! No way!” I yell. “You’re joking!”..

  “No, I’m not. It’s just a big engine with seats – a simple car, a very fast car for its time. You either love them or you don’t. We modified a lot on here and specialized and customized. The three of us had fun working on it. We never fought about any of it. That was a great time for all of us. My mom hated this car, she thought it was too loud and
fast and we would get hurt in it.”

  “Fast, huh?” I ask. “How fast?”

  “Well, it’s four-hundred horse power–which in the early 90s was something. It has a six speed manual transmission and Lamborghini helped with the design to get some of the weight off the engine. The making of this car was very impressive for back then. It’s unique–I like unique things.”

  As he proceeds to tell me about the car, he strides up next to me, very close, so close I can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the scent of him mixed with the salt of the sea from his run. He opens the hood for me.

  “It opens backwards?” I ask.

  “Yep, unique!” he says.

  I peek at the engine that says VIPER in bold letters and looks almost too big for the car. “That looks like something out of a sci fi movie.”

  He laughs, shuts the hood, then leans on the side of the car so he can face me.

  “You know,” he goes on, “some people have considered this to be the sexiest car of it’s day, describing the body as passionate, voluptuous and complex.”

  “R-R-really?” I stammer, raising an eyebrow as I try to stay cool and composed. I’m getting turned on just listening to him chatter about the Viper. Is he flirting and comparing me to this sexy little sports car? Could I be that lucky?

  “Some thought the Viper shouldn’t have been sold legally in the United States.”

  “Oh? How come?”.

  “Well, because it’s like a stripped down car, no anti lock breaks, and all that safety stuff.”

  “The inside looks different,” I say. “The steering wheel looks small in a way”.

  “Yeah, that’s because there’s no air bags, just steering wheel.”

  “No air bags? You better hope you don’t ever get hit in this thing!” I groan.

  He smiles, then laughs. “Now you sound like my mother used too, minus the accent!”

  “Well?” he asks, “what do you think? You wanna go into town in the beast?”

  I look up at him, my eyes wide in surprise. “Definitely, yes!”

  “Okay then,” he laughs. “Be ready in half an hour, can you do that? I’ll meet you right outside your front door.”