Fairytales (16 page)

He sat up in bed and looked at her, “By God, you do sound like his mother.”

“I wish I were,” she answered quietly.

“I wish you were, too … God, how I wish that. Now, enough of my children. I don’t want to think about them or anything else except us.” He settled back and took her in his arms again.

“Darling, do you realize we had an anniversary? We met a year ago last June,” she said.

“It’s funny you should say that because I sat one afternoon on the Via Veneto and suddenly remembered we had met that night a year ago.”

“Did you really?”

“Yes, and I wanted to buy you something, but of course, because of customs, I couldn’t.” Getting out of bed, he went to his jacket that hung over a chair and took out a small box. Getting back into bed, he handed it to Victoria.

She looked at it, then at Dominic. “Darling, why did you do this?”

“Because I love you. Now, open it.”

Carefully, she took the wrapping off and inside the jewel box was a gold and diamond watch. When she released the cover, it was inscribed, ‘Time is the most precious gift one can give another. With my deepest love, thank you for sharing it with me.’ Victoria’s eyes brimmed over with tears, “Oh, Dominic … Dominic, how truly beautiful that is,” and when she looked up, there were tears in his eyes too …

As the months slipped away Victoria became his joy. A marvelous contentment settled over Dominic so that even Catherine became tolerable to him. He was able to tune her out like turning down a hearing aid.

However, it was not so with Catherine. There were things that began to disturb her which she could not entirely articulate. Dominic seemed so satisfied, so easy, so tranquil, so patient … there were no arguments, no rebuttals, which in itself she not only missed but wondered about. He worked much, much later with clients and more often. He seemed to travel less frequently, delegating out-of-town trials to his partner (which, at one time, would have pleased her beyond measure) because, by now, he had become nationally known, if not internationally, and had even mentioned opening up offices in Paris and Rome as soon as Dom was through with school. There were little subtleties she could not fathom, which didn’t quite seem to hold together.

One morning, on returning from marketing, she found Stella coming into the kitchen with several suits of Dominic’s which surprised her … in fact, shocked her since Stella never went upstairs. It wasn’t her duty to attend to anything except the cooking.

“What are you doing, Stella?” Catherine demanded in Italian.

Nervously, frightened, guilty Stella stammered, “Nothing …”

“What do you mean, nothing? What are you doing with the
Signore’s
suits?”

“Waiting for the cleaner,” she answered as her hands shook.

“Since when do you send the
Signore’s
clothes out … Anna or I do that,” Catherine said, angrily. “But Anna was so busy. I thought I’d help.” Catherine shook her head, “Oh … I see. You don’t have enough to do, taking care of a big family, cooking, cleaning a large kitchen and dining room … you’re lying to me, Stella … Why?”

“I’m not lying,
Signora
… on my mother’s grave, I swear I was trying to help.”

“Help? In what way … to take a few of the
Signore’s
suits? In all the years you’ve been with us, I find you stealing … Why? I took you in as an immigrant and this is the thanks I get…” She grabbed the suits away from Stella, who began to cry.

“I wasn’t stealing, please, believe me, I was trying to help.”

But while Stella was pleading and crying, Catherine sniffed a strange scent from Dominic’s clothing and as if a dam had burst, in that moment, Catherine knew. Sitting down, stunned, with the suits in her arms, she looked at Stella without saying a word. She knew … How could she have been so
stupid
not to have suspected Dominic. Of course … everything began to fall into place. She ran her tongue over her lower lip. “Stella. How long?”

Stella wept, crossing herself,
“Madonna Mia
… I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The suits fell to the floor in a heap as Catherine got up and slapped her so hard across the face that Stella staggered as she stood against the drain board for support. “Don’t swear on the Virgin’s name or you’ll go to hell where you belong,” she yelled, shaking Stella. “Tell me or I’ll have you deported. Remember, you have no papers.”

“Signora,
please, in God’s name, I meant no harm.”

“In
…
God’s name,
you meant no harm? I want you out of my house today …
You hear?
… today!”

“But
Signora,
I have no place to go.”

“You should have thought about that when you lied to me … you ungrateful bastard … pack and get out of my house.” Catherine ran from the kitchen, up the stairs to her room and flung herself upon the bed and wept, uncontrollably. When the tears subsided, she sighed, heavily, trying to catch her breath. Her eyes swollen and red from crying, she went downstairs to the solarium, poured herself a large brandy and drank it down in one gulp, then sat down. Shaking her head, she said to herself, “You’ll pay for this … you’ll pay, Mr. Rossi … you’ll pay … but first, I’m goin’ to let you have your fun. When I find out who
your amante
is, then I’ll deal with you … I can wait as you’ve made me wait.” Taking the telephone book, she looked for the number of detective agencies, her finger stopping at the one everyone knew … the most famous, and dialed the number. After having given all the information asked for, she ended by saying, “I want a report on everythin, startin’ this minute.”

“Yes, Mrs. Rossi, we’ll get on the case immediately.”

Hanging up, she went to the kitchen once again to see if Stella had left. She had, and Catherine savored the moment … bitch … she had known, but for how long? She telephoned the employment agency and put an order in to hire a black cook, knowing Dominic wanted only Italian help. She then went upstairs and let the water run into the tub while she undressed. After the bath, she felt refreshed and for all her seething anger, she would play the game … would she ever…

At three o’clock the door bell rang. As Anna went to the door, Catherine intervened, “I’ll get it, you go to your room, Anna.” Catherine smiled.

Opening the door, she stood before a stout, black, immaculate woman in her forties, who held a white employment card in her hand. “I’m Willie Mae James, the …”

“Yes, I know. Come right in.” Willie Mae followed Catherine to the kitchen where they both sat at the kitchen table. Catherine questioned her about her last employment… why she left … how many years she had been employed. Everything seemed satisfactory. Willie Mae was shown her room which pleased her, then they discussed the pay and when she could start. Whenever Mrs. Rossi needed her. Would today be too soon. No, in fact, Willie Mae was not accustomed to being unemployed, but since her former employer had passed on, she wanted to get into a situation immediately.

“That’s good,” Catherine said. “Can you be back by four-thirty?”

“Yes, I’m sure I can be.”

“Fine … I hope you’ll be happy here … we’re a large and lovin’ family, Willie Mae, and don’t you fret about makin’ Italian food … I think a little southern cookin’, which I’ve missed for a long time now, will suit us just fine.”

“I’ll do my best to please you, Mrs. Rossi.”

“I just know you will.”

After Willie Mae left, Catherine went to her room, looked through her closet, and selected a flowered chiffon hostess gown she bought at Pucci’s in Rome and placed it on the bed, then sat at her dressing table and prepared her face to perfection … taking special pains with the black eyeliner, applied the false lashes, arranged her hair on top of her head with a cluster of curls, put on her most extravagant emerald jewels, slipped into a silk dressing robe and called the florist for a table arrangement, to be sent by four. Of course, Mrs. Rossi, anything to accommodate our most gracious client. Then she went down to the dining room and selected a large lace cloth, the Old Amari Crown Derby china and set the table, knowing Willie Mae would have enough to do when she got here. After finishing, she called Dominic’s office and waited for him to answer. “Hello, Dominic, darlin’,” she said, her heart pounding, “I’ve got a lovely surprise for dinner this evenin’.”

“Catherine, I’m a little busy just now.”

“Oh, I see, well, I just wanted to make sure you would be home no later than seven.”

He hesitated, then said, “I may be a little …”

But Catherine interrupted and in her voice there was a slight betrayal of her feelings that made Dominic realize she meant it when she said, “Darlin’, I would suggest you try.”

“Alright, Catherine, I will.” When he hung up, he sat staring at the silent phone, his fingers poised around his mouth.

Catherine met Dominic entering a little after seven as she regally descended the stairs. “Dominic, darlin’,” she said, extending her hands, then kissing him, “Come into the solarium and have your drink … you look so tired, darlin’.”

He looked at Catherine, she was so elegant, so dressed up. “Who’s coming to dinner?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know… you seem so festive.”

“Why do you say that, darlin’? I want my very own husband to always find me attractive.” Dominic had difficulty putting the pieces together. Something was out of focus. He followed Catherine into the solarium where she fixed him a bourbon on ice. “Now, you just relax, darlin’.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking the drink.

“Now, how did your day go?” Looking at her again, he thought, I don’t know, maybe I’m going out of my mind, but the whole thing seems so unreal. “I asked, Dominic, how was your day?”

“About the same.”

“About the same as what, darlin’?”

“As usual…”

“Meanin’ it was difficult?”

“Yes, that’s it, difficult… as usual.”

“Oh, my… one thing I’m happy about is you have such wonderful people to take some of the burden that would fall heavily upon your poor overworked shoulders.”

He just sat, shaking his head. For a moment, he wanted to look around to see if he was in the right house … “That’s very kind of you, Catherine.”

“Why not at all, after all, a good wife should be concerned about her husband’s welfare.”

“Yes … well, that’s very nice. Have you gotten a letter from Roberto or Dom?”

“From Dom … which I planned to show you later after you’ve relaxed, but from Roberto, it’s a little soon and besides, he’s not too big on letter writin’.”

“I wouldn’t think so … where are the children?”

“Gina Maria’s doin’ her homework and Tory too, but the twins are havin’ dinner at a friend’s.”

“When will they be home?”

“About ten … I told ’em no later and Vincente’s at Boy Scouts. Here, let me refresh your drink,” Catherine said, taking the glass from Dominic. “Now, you drink that while I go see about dinner.” When she left, Dominic wondered if it was a birthday or an occasion he had forgotten. Hard as he tried, he could think of nothing. Then he heard Catherine call, “Gina Maria … Tory, dinner’s ready.”

Soon they came down, “Papa,
buona sera.”

“Buona sera, cara mia,
and you, Tory.”

“Grazie, Papa.”

They sat down at dinner … the crystal goblets glistened in the candle lit room. Tory asked, jokingly, “Didn’t we pay the light bill this month?”

“Now, Tory,” Catherine mildly reprimanded, “where’s your manners?”

“Well, it’s so dark in here, Mama.”

“Tory, you’re gonna have to learn that everythin’ isn’t just money and power … there are other things in life like beauty and esthetics … appreciation for the exquisiteness of life. Roberto, at his age, has that quality.”

“I know, but why does it have to be so dark while we find out?”

“That’s quite enough, Tory … now, eat your salad.”

“I can’t see what I’m eating.”

“Not another word.”

I can understand how Van Gogh cut off his ear … he was probably eating in the dark, Tory thought. Since Mr. Marx went to Florence, we all have to develop a sense of appreciation. Holy cow, he couldn’t wait until September to get to Harvard.

“You enjoyin’ it, Dominic?”

“Yes, yes, it’s very good.”

“Are you ready for your next course?”

No wonder she had to ask, Tory said to himself … she couldn’t see in the dark.

“Yes, anytime, Catherine.” She picked up the small dinner bell and rang. A moment later, Willie Mae came out dressed in a black uniform over which she wore a white starched short apron. Dominic, Tory and Gina Maria sat stunned, staring as Willie Mae began to remove the salad plates.

“Willie Mae, this is Mr. Rossi and my daughter, Gina Maria, and my son, Tory. The others, you’ll meet tomorrow.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she said softly, going back to the kitchen.

For a very long moment Dominic couldn’t quite understand what had happened. “What’s wrong with Stella?”

“I didn’t want to tell you before dinner, knowin’ how difficult your day was, but poor Stella had a terrible thing happen to her.”

“What do you mean … what happened to her?” Dominic asked apprehensively. After all, she had become one of the family after almost twenty years.

“Her last and only brother died and unfortunately, she received the letter this mornin’.”

“And you didn’t let me know?” Dominic asked angrily.

“Why, Dominic, I’m surprised at you, shoutin’ at me like that.”

“Well, why didn’t you call?”

“Because you’re always so
busy.”

“Where did she go?”

“Home.”

“Home?”

“Yes, back to Italy.”

“When?”

“This mornin’, she packed and said she was leavin’ … well, what could I do with the poor thing half out of her mind.”

“Who does she have to go back to?”

“Her sister-in-law.”

“Her sister-in-law?”

“Yes … she pleaded with Stella to come and comfort her.”

“Well, I’ll be damned … after all these years.”

“Yes, I simply felt devastated.”

“How did she get the tickets and all?”

“Why, Dominic, I’m even surprised you should ask … why I took care of everythin’. Even drivin’ her to the airport.”