by Tara Oakes
I think I may have diffused things a little bit. The two women seem to still be on high alert, though. Tanya pushes her sunglasses on and takes her napkin from her lap, thrusting the crumples fabric on to the table in spite. Taking one last sip of her recently replenished mimosa, she address us one last time.
“Thaank you gawls for lunch. I reawly have to be going now. Theresa...” she slants her head so her eyes can peer just over the bedazzled rim of her expensive glasses to eye her opponent,“... say hi to your brother for me. Tell him he still owes me dinner.”
And with that, she leaves. It was the better part of a full minute of blank stares as we all absorb the ridiculous escapade that just went down at our table. Mary shakes it off while mumbling under her breath. “Stupid girl.” She waves down our waiter as he approaches. “Another mimosa, please. Hold the orange juice.” The waiter looks mildly confused at the request.
Now that we are in more pleasant company we enjoy ourselves and the remnants of our meeting. Free of children, brothers, husbands and mothers, we relax and indulge in a little girl time and dessert. We splurge on a sampling platter of finger sized treats, munching on cream puffs and petit fours. In my twenty-two years I have never been able to eat a cream puff graciously. I’ve seen it done by others, but am just not capable of it. Once again, I am the center of attention and laughter as yet another cream filled pastry-puff falls victim to my curse.
Between bites of gooey sugary treats and sips of warm beverages, we hammer out the details of Cecily’s surprise shower. That was, after all, why we came today, with or without miss Tanya.
I will host the party at Alberti’s, a quaint Italian restaurant favored by my family for decades. The Alberti family comes from the same village as Theresa’s and mine. It’s also where Tony proposed to Cecily two years ago. Mary will order the invitations, I will plan the menu and favors while Theresa plans the party games and orders the decorations.
We aim for the third Saturday, pending availability at the restaurant. I’m sure Mario, the owner, will make the space available, but I make a mental note to make the phone call as soon as we leave. Three weeks isn’t a whole lot of time to put this thing together, and every day counts.
Our waiter begins to hover as we embark on the third hour of our lunch. Mary finally excuses herself to get home and get the kids ready for camp and play dates the next day. I thank her for making the trip. We are close, but not as close as Cecily and I are. The age gap sometimes wedges itself in where Mary and I are concerned, but I really did enjoy spending the time with her.
Theresa decides to take me up on my offer to drive her back into the city. It’s completely out of my way, but it will save her a train ride, and it will allow us to keep our gabfest going. I settle the check, insisting on treating the ladies after they tolerated Tanya’s rudeness partly because of me. Feeling guilty for monopolizing the table for so long, I leave our wait staff an overly-generous tip.
Cruising out onto the highway we make good time on our journey before the conversation inevitably turns to the topic of Tanya. After several cheap shots by Theresa, I finally ask the question I have been waiting years to ask, never feeling that it was any of my business until now.
“So, why do you hate her so much? I mean I get the whole disliking her thing, but you spew venom when you talk about her.”
Theresa’s lip curls in an involuntary knee-jerk reaction to the thoughts crossing her mind as I ask the question.
“You have no idea. She is a pathetic fame whore and a liar. She tried to get all chummy with me back before the wedding just to get in good with Dom. She’s as fake as a tub of margarine and I can’t stand that. Dom didn’t see through her act right away. They went on a couple of dates after the wedding and by the time he wised up and wouldn’t give her the time of day anymore, it was too late, she act-”
Theresa catches herself mid-sentence, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. She was rambling on about her hatred for Tanya, letting it consume her enough not to censor her words. She definitely didn’t mean to say as much as she had. I act cool, unbothered by the sudden bomb left in my lap. When Dom wouldn’t give her the time of day anymore? Anymore?! What the hell is this? Anymore implies that there was once a time when there was a more. Ugh. My stomach is turning as my lunch is in danger of making a repeat visit. Collecting myself, I ask the most obvious question.
“Theresa... did Dom hook up with her?” I don’t need to hear the verbalization of the answer. I can see it on her face as she sits in silence weighing her options. I think back to the time in question. Sure, I had known that Tanya had a massive crush on Dom. Everyone knew. But, I was wrapped up in my sophomore year of studies and was overwhelmed with coursework and bridesmaids duties to really pay attention.
Unconsciously, I begin to slump. I’m the complete opposite of Tanya. She’s the epitome of a walking, talking guido barbie doll. Big fake boobs, dangerously curvy backside and way to much makeup. I’m the complete opposite, at least two-full cup sizes smaller and my own curves are nothing compared to the va-va-voom deadly shape that she paid a pretty penny for. If that’s what he likes, then how can I compete with it? My day just went to hell in a hand-basket. Fast.
I tune out Theresa’s constant assurances and attempts at distraction. The damage is done, although I try to appease my friend by pretending to have moved on. After a quick peck on the cheek and a dozen apologies for being the bearer of bad news, Theresa can’t make her exit fast enough as we pull in front of her building.
What other secrets of her brother’s is she keeping? I’m gonna drive myself crazy if I keep this up. I turn the radio loud and peel out toward the congested, rush-hour filled streets. I drive as carefully as I can, maneuvering in and out of lanes as my eyes blur in madness. When Rihanna starts to sing about finding love in a hopeless place on the radio, I grit my teeth hard.
I decide to take the long scenic route home, biding my time as I calm myself down. At this point, my irrational thoughts have escalated to slightly dramatic proportions, I’ll admit. Did Dom sleep with her? Was she ever in his house? In his room? IN HIS BED?! The same bed he had me sleep in the other night? Oh God. Stop, stop, stop.
After countless hours of mindless driving, I find myself in front of my old house, parked, eyeing the ruin of my childhood. With it being a weekend, the construction crew is no where to be seen. I take a mental inventory of the debris settled around the yard of the half-built walls and unfinished structure. I can’t help but make the association between this house and my life. We’re much the same these days. What promised to be a rebuilding, new beginning on both accounts, somehow seems to be just a pile of incomplete parts, nothing like what the blue prints promised.
At a time like this there are several possible outlets for my frustration, and I weigh them against each other. Drinking myself into numbness doesn’t really seem like an attractive option. Not only would I feel like crap now, but I’d feel even worse in the morning. My first and hopefully last hangover last weekend is enough to deter that option. Shopping‘till I drop is out of the question, too, as it’s now Sunday evening and all stores are closed early by now. I guess my third option is only one left. Indulging in a little old fashioned comfort food therapy.
I stop by my favorite ice cream shop on the way home and order a large banana split with extra hot fudge and sprinkles. There are few occasions in a girls life where ice cream is an acceptable substitute for dinner, but surely this is one.
I shiver slightly as my air conditioning is set to the max, preventing my sundae from melting during the car ride home. Finally pulling into my regular spot near the garage, I hold the precious cargo close as I rush into the house.
Stepping into the main entrance, I can immediately pick up on a different air about the place. Mom and Aunt Rosie are finishing clearing dishes from their dinner at the dining room table. Not just any dishes... the good china that I know full well they wouldn’t use for a quick put together dinner for just the three of the
m.
There are several pieces of luggage on the marble floor near the foot of the stairs. My breath hitches. Dom’s home. My neck flings around fast enough toward his office to give me whiplash. The door is shut but I can hear at least one voice from the other side. Acting quickly, I run into the kitchen to deposit my ice cream into the freezer. Mom jumps as I startle her and drops a dish back into the sink.
“Hi!, Bye!,” My sudden appearance and disappearance must have confused the heck out of her.
I sprint up to my room where I run a brush through my hair and add some spray to set the style. A quick toothbrushing, touchup on my lipgloss, mascara, and perfume, and I’m ready to go. Dom hasn’t seen me in almost a week and the last time he did, I was soaking wet in my bathrobe.
Carefully, I descend the stairs as gracefully as I can, aware that Dom can come out of his office at any moment. Reaching the main floor, I fidget for a second or so before leaning against the railing and crossing my ankles to try and look casual. How does this look casual? Right... moving on. I rush over to the main table and look busy rummaging through the pile of mail on the table. This is more realistic.
After fifteen minutes, I’ve pretty much memorized every article of mail in the pile. My shoes are starting to hurt my feet from standing on the rock hard floor. Tossing the mail back on the table, I begin to look around for someplace else to look casual as I loiter around his door waiting for him.
Another ten minutes passes and I begin to feel like a stalker. This is useless. For all I know, Dom can remain holed up in there for hours. I give up and head into the kitchen where I find mom and Aunt Rosie gabbing over some coffee.
They hush as I enter the room. Watching the two of them act like two little school girls caught passing a note in class, it’s obvious that they were talking about me. Oh great, just what I need right now. This should be fun.
“Hello ladies, am I interrupting?” I sarcastically interject into their girl talk. “Ohh, this looks good I think I’ll have a cup.” I help myself to a mug from the cupboard and pour a large steaming cup from the cappuccino machine. Sliding onto the empty bar stool next to Aunt Rosie, I reach for the cinnamon on the table and sprinkle my drink before swirling the cup around to stir the liquid before I ask, “so what are we talking about, hmm?”
Neither woman is quick to answer, instead they begin to sip from their own cups. It must have been juicy, whatever they were talking about if they don’t even pretend to try and cover their tracks. My drink is warm and bold, just how I like it. I sip it slowly while watching the two of them start to squirm. I can beat these two women at their own game. Why not have a little fun.
“It looked like you two were gossiping about something good... so... dish.”
Mom stammers looking across at her co-conspirator for help. Aunt Rosie is slow to offer her assistance. Unconvincingly, she comes up with a thinly-veiled cover story.
“Sweetheart, we were just talking about what we are going to get Cecily for the baby shower. We’re just heading to bed though, so we’ll have to just go to the stores and see what we come up with. Do you want to go with us tomorrow?”
Yeah.... I’m sure that was it.
“Ummm. No thanks. I’ve got some calls to make in the morning. But you two chitter-chatterers have fun.”
They both stand, kiss me on either side of the cheek and place their cups into the sink before exiting.
“Good night, girls!” I call out sarcastically to them as they clear the room, their waning muffled giggles follow behind.
The two of them have always been close. I’m sure this temporary living arrangement has taken a bit of the widowed loneliness from them both. Finishing the last remnants of my drink. I search for any leftovers from dinner. The hot drink had awakened a hidden hunger in me.
My ice cream! How could I have forgotten about my yummy gooey sundae? Kicking my shoes off and prancing over to the silverware drawer, I carefully select the perfect sized spoon to devour my sinful dessert. I bop the spoon along while doing my best version of a happy dance until I have extracted the banana split form the freezer and tear open the packaging.
Scooping my spoon into the velvety thick pools of fudge, I twirl it carefully not to loose any of the valuable chocolatey goodness before it reaches my mouth. My eyes close in ecstasy as I devour the smoothness from the cold spoon.
“Now that looks good...”
I nearly choke on my mouthful of goodness as Dom leans up against the kitchen entryway with his arms folded against his chest. I take the spoon from my mouth and try to discreetly lick the remaining chocolate from my lips while avoiding eye contact. I know he couldn’t have been there long, but how much did he see? Please Lord, please tell me he didn’t see me do the happy dance....
Confidant that I have no evidence of fudge left on my mouth, I become brave enough to raise my eyes to his.
“It is. Don’t get any ideas... it’s all mine.”
Dom’s eyes are dark but playful with his trademark smirk plastered on his lips. I forgot how hot that smirk is. His skin looks tanned against the white long sleeve NYU t-shirt he wears with jeans. I stand frozen as he uncrosses his bulging arms and strides my way.
“You should know by know that if I see something I want, I take it. Can’t I have a little taste?”
The plastic ice cream dish must be melting in my hand I’m sure. My body burns up as I fall into a slight trance watching this gorgeous man move. Remembering the glorious things that he made me feel, emboldens me. Dipping my finger into a mound of fudge from the dish, I apply it to my bottom lip as nonchalantly as gloss before lightly sucking my fingertip clean.
“I don’t know, can you?”
This can go one of two ways. Either I look like a childish ice-cream eating idiot, or as I hope, it looks hot enough to make him want to take my lips. Dom gnaws at his lower lip eagerly, planning his next move. I’m not waiting long as he takes the sundae from my hand and places it on the counter top nearest me. I swallow hard, knowing that what comes next will surely be my undoing.
He places his pointer finger under my chin to raise it while his blackened eyes stare down at me. We play some sort of erotic game of chicken waiting to see who will break the gaze first. The fudge on my lip is becoming sticky and I part my lips ever so slightly while trying my hardest to resist the urge to remove the syrupy covering myself.
Dom looks as if he’s fighting the same urge, and winning, but eventually he succumbs to it. His lips lower to mine before he lightly kisses my chocolate covered lip, grazing the tip of his tongue over the stickiness until it is gone. He covers my lip with his and sucks on it forcefully until it’s swollen beneath. Releasing my lip, he pulls away calmly, licking his own clean before our eyes meet once again.
“Mmm. Tastes even better than I thought.”
How does he do that? How is it that my body is practically convulsing no matter how hard I try to mask it, and he just looks sexy and calm as hell? I think fast, needing to speak to prove to myself that I’m not in fact paralyzed.
“I’m glad you like it. But I’m still not sharing.” I pick up my sundae and playfully protect and guard it as I pass him and sit back down on my stool at the breakfast nook. It probably isn’t the smartest idea for me to be in such close proximity to him right now. I’m sure he sees the effect he has on me and I need to retain some sense of self-control over myself.
Dom shakes off my dodging him and turns to lean over the counter facing me as I stare into my desert, With a few more inches between us, I feel like I can restrain myself from acting like a blubbering love-struck fool for the time being. I swirl my spoon around the creaminess, occasionally lifting my eyes to teasing him again.
“I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow?”
He looks as though I’ve just kicked him. “We closed the deal early. John needed to get back for the kids, so we did. Should I have stayed ‘till tomorrow?”
I try to soften my unintentional blow. “Are you kidding me?
It feels like you were gone forever. Now grab a spoon and help me finish this.” I flash a not-so-innocent smile to seal the deal. Mission accomplished. Dom withdraws a spoon from a nearby drawer and digs in.
We jab at each other’s utensil as the playfulness resumes. Feeling like I had eaten more than enough today, I set down my spoon and sit back so that I can enjoy the sight in front of me. I’ve missed him. Talking on the phone just isn’t the same as seeing his sexy little smirk and dark hypnotizing eyes as he speaks. Watching his delectable lips move.... I snap back form my daydream as Dom’s voice takes on a serious tone.
“I need you to keep Tuesday morning free. I’m calling an emergency meeting of the board. John’s been voting for you while you were in school but you need to vote for yourself now that you’re officially part of ATH.” He finished the last bit of ice cream and clears away our mess.
He’s being a bit presumptuous.
“You know... I haven’t told you yet if I’m coming to work with you....”
Dom raises his cocked eyebrow to me.
“Well, I haven’t. I mean I’m going to give it a try. A trial period. But, no promises! Capice?” I hold out my crooked pinky for Dom to swear with.
“So Tuesday morning you’ll ride into the office with me, You can set up your office while you’re there. I think we can accept a couple of extra interns to help you staff your new department. I’ll have Ellen e-mail you the applications to pick from.”He finally catches on that I’m trying my hardest to look extremely bored, complete with fake yawn. “Alright, alright! I won’t torture you anymore.”
Wanting desperately to steer the night away from boring business talk, I prop myself up on my forearms and lean across the counter, landing just in front of Dom.