A Basic Renovation
Page 38
‘Yes, it was.’ Lesley gave him the flattest, driest, coldest look he’d ever felt.
The frostbite nipped at his heart. ‘I’m sorry, Lesley. Truly I am. You deserve better.’
‘Yes, I do.’ If it were possible, her expression turned black while her face went snow white. ‘Are we done here?’
Chance had buoyed Dominic’s heart for a moment. Things were sinking fast now. Desperate, he tried to tread water. ‘I don’t get you. You shrug off my mother getting you arrested, you offer to bail out the guy who torched your house, but you can’t forgive me for panicking. I panicked.’
‘Why does it matter if I forgive you? Do you think it’s going to make you sleep better? I’m going home. I’ll be out of your hair, out of your life, out of this town. Why does it matter, when it’s over?’
Over.
Well, dickhead, she said the word. What more proof do you need? You saved your son, but lost Lesley. ‘Why does it matter? Oh, God, nothing matters now. Nothing matters since it’s done, does it?’ Dominic held out the paper bag, his last life preserver, because he didn’t know what else to do. ‘Here.’
Lesley snatched the sack from his hand. Her heart needed the misery and lies to finish, but she would not be vindictive and toss it back in his face. She ate the agony, the regret and the fact she’d been forsaken again. ‘What is this?’ Her voice sounded as hollow and spent as she felt.
‘They’re yours.’ She watched him shrug.
Drained, Lesley unrolled the top of the white sack expecting to find her glasses, toothbrush and a few tampons inside.
Instead she found onion rings.
Onion rings?
She dropped the bag. A sob burst from her mouth and she sank into a crouch, squashing the sack under one knee as tears washed down her face. ‘You…oh, God…a man of your word,’ she wailed, ‘and you had to make it personal, didn’t you? Onion rings, Dominic? You had to make it onion rings? Tell me this isn’t a joke. Tell me again you’re a man of your word! Onion rings?’
He stared at her. ‘I’m sorry.’
Lesley wheezed. It was simplest, most ridiculous apology any man had ever given her.
And it meant just one thing.
He spread his empty hands. ‘I didn’t know what else t—’
‘Are you joking?’ She choked out.
‘Joking?’ Dominic sniffled, demoralised. Demoralised. He finally understood exactly how that word was supposed to feel. His throat constricted and he swallowed.
‘You still love me, don’t you?’
Dominic thought the little smile on Lesley’s face looked like evil glee.
How could she be so cruel?
Staring into her jasper eyes, he knew he was forever damned. Hands on her elbows, he hauled to her feet. Her wet face bumped into his chest. Dirt from his shirt made a streak of mud on her cheek, just below a blob of mascara. He let her go and wiped his running nose with the back of his hand. ‘Yes. I love you. You like knowing that, don’t you? You think it’s fitting. It’s punishment for my ruining what was a precious gift. Yes, I love you. I…oh, Jay-zus. I love you.’ He was drowning now. A length of anchor chain had wrapped around his heart and it dragged him down, down, down.
Lesley shook her head and her smile suddenly seemed more like incredulity than wicked delight. ‘It wasn’t flowers, or candy or doughnuts,’ she said touching his wet chin. ‘You made it personal. You made it as thoughtful as you could. Oh, Dominic. You do know me!’
‘What?’ A funny tickling sensation prickled the back of Dominic’s neck. ‘What? Lesley, d-do you…do you love me?’
Lesley gazed up into a face that was as wet and snotty as her own. ‘Well, of course I love you! Why else would I be out here?’
Dominic started to laugh. Then he started to roar. Then he pulled her into his arms and began to kiss her feverishly. Her damp eyelids, her nose, her forehead, her mouth were all targets of his urgent lips.
‘I thought you didn’t want me anymore,’ she said against his mouth. I thought you didn’t need me.’
Eyes blazing, he drew back, smoothed her hair and gazed at pure beauty. ‘I treated you like my mother did. I never meant to hurt you or make you think I didn’t want you. How could I not want you? For years it was just me and Kyle. I believed that was enough. Need you? I never thought it was possible for me to need a woman, but you’ve become my blood. You’re my soul and you have my heart. I could live without them, but I’d be a dead man walking.’
‘You really love me?’
‘Right down…’ he said lifting her off her feet, ‘to your hairy little toes.’ The tips of those toes knocked into his shins.
A smile blossomed on her mascara-smeared, mud-streaked, tearstained face. ‘I said we can handle anything as long as we love each other. We can survive any argument or misunderstanding because we love each other. Oh, God, we love each other. We love each other!’ Lesley kissed him. He tasted of salt, of earth, of the heaven that was Dominic. ‘I can’t believe your mother was right.’
Eyebrows arched, Dominic set her on her feet and shoved a hand into his pocket. ‘My mother was right?’
She nodded. ‘I saw her yesterday. After she insulted me, she told me you loved me.’
‘For once, Mom does know best!’ Dominic chuckled. ‘I do love you, Lesley. So very much.’ He sighed. ‘Never doubt that.’
‘I know.’ She wiped an errant tear from his cheek. ‘I love you, too.’
‘Well,’ he sighed and pointed to the squished white paper bag she’d knelt on a few minutes ago, ‘since those rings are dead, maybe you’d like this one back.’ He took the ruby from his pocket, slid it on her finger and lifted her hand to his lips.
Lesley smiled again and it was the most amazing thing he’d ever witnessed.
Beneath a blanket of blue-black sky and glittering stars, Dominic looked at Lesley and saw the air shimmer around her. Like when the Cerro Grande fire lit the sky with sparks, the atmosphere all around her flickered as if otherworldly fireflies were searching for the love he’d just found. There was a myth Los Alamos had some kind of blazing phosphorescence and Dominic finally saw it. It was shining before him. In his hand he held his future, his life, his wife.
‘Lesley,’ he murmured, ‘you’re glowing.’
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About the Author
Sandra Antonelli grew up in Europe, but comes from the land Down Under. She prefers Peanut Butter to Vegemite. She drives a little Italian car, lives in a little house with a little, Peanut butter-loving dog and is married to a big, bearded Sicilian. When she’s not writing, Sandra can be found at the movies, drinking coffee, or having breakfast.
You can find Sandra on twitter @SandrAntonelli or write to her at sandraantonelli.com
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ISBN: 9780857990204
Title: A Basic Renovation
Copyright © 2013 by Sandra Antonelli
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