Authors: Celia Juliano
Lita wondered why she wasn’t talking, usually she rambled on when in the company of her family and friends. Something scratched at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t figure out what. She tried to concentrate on her meal, which was delicious. A murmuring breeze sent a shiver over Lita as she went toward the house after dessert. Everyone sprawled out on blankets or settled on chairs and benches, some with their feet up on ottomans with throws for warmth against the chilly snap in the air. Listening to the pleasant buzz of laughter and conversation below her, she gazed out at the bay shimmering with the lights of the city and the rising moon.
When she came back out to the terrace, Vincente leaned against the baluster. He stood when he saw her. She smiled and joined him.
“You okay, Lita? You were quiet at dinner.”
Lita laughed. “Do I usually talk so much?” Vincente’s ears colored. She patted his arm. “Don’t answer that.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” He studied her. Was there something wrong that everyone else saw and was just a vague worry for her?
“Sure, I’m fine.”
“Get the hell away from her,” Lorenzo said in a low voice as he strode up to them.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Vincente said.
Lita’s body burned.
“I’d be stupid not to see how you look at my wife.”
Lita grabbed Lorenzo’s arm to try and make him see her. “Stop it. You’re the one who’s given cause for jealousy, not me. Maybe you act so jealous to keep my attention off you and your women.”
Lorenzo pushed her arm away and scowled. He shook his head and walked into the house.
Vincente put a hand on her shoulder. “I think you’re both wrong.” His voice was gentle, but Lita didn’t want to listen.
She wanted her marriage to be happy, not troubled. She wanted love to be simple. She wanted sex to be free of worry and fear. She shrugged. “See you.” She followed Lorenzo inside.
22
Lita’s doubt festered in him. Throughout July, he tried to ignore it. But the only way to do that was to numb himself. Lita didn’t seem to notice since she was busy helping Joanna with her wedding plans. She and Pete’s August wedding approached with sweltering weather but an increasing iciness between him and Lita.
A week before the wedding, they lay in bed together. He held her for a long time, until she fell asleep, heavy in his arms. Her breath whispered across his chest. He wasn’t sure what had happened. The first two months of their marriage had been wonderful, just as he’d imagined: amazing sex, Lita’s adoring looks, his lack of attention to other women. Then, slowly, certain cadences in her voice irritated him, he grew annoyed with her clinging and innocence, bored with the missionary position, and he started flirting with other women again, began to notice one woman’s long legs, or another woman’s perky breasts, or the switch in a different woman’s walk.
Exhaling, he slid out of bed and watched Lita as she shifted under the blankets. Really those women had nothing on her. She was an angel, his angel, but he knew he wasn’t, he knew he needed something else.
Everything seemed to conspire against him, even Janetta and Lee. He could tell those two wanted each other and the air at work sparked with tension every day, as it had since he’d returned from his honeymoon almost two months before. He knew what he could do to get out of it all, but his stomach turned when he thought of it, of how Lita would look at him then. She seemed content, busy with Joanna and Sophia, baking with Celeste, while he stayed busy at work and at home in his office, avoiding Uncle Enzo and his shrewd eyes.
Lorenzo noticed Lee avoided most family gatherings the last months, but that didn’t stop Lita from arranging a surprise birthday party for her brother a couple weeks later. Somehow, the tension between Lee and Janetta seemed to have spilled into Lorenzo and Lee’s friendship, or maybe Lee sensed what went on with Lita, though she appeared cheerful.
“Happy Birthday!” his family and friends shouted at Lee when they entered the foyer. He had taken Lee out for a tennis game while Lita arranged her brother’s party.
After dinner, the family sat around the living room, drinking coffee, talking more quietly than usual, which was how Lorenzo heard Lee and Janetta’s raised voices in the foyer.
“I can’t take this anymore,” Lee exclaimed before he entered, glancing around.
Lita frowned at her brother from her spot in Lorenzo’s arms.
“Sorry, Lit, but I need to go.”
Before Lita could stand, Janetta appeared behind Lee and grabbed his arm. The room became still as heads swiveled to the action. Janetta went down on one knee, grasping Lee’s hand. Lorenzo chuckled. Leave it to Janetta.
“Berkeley Reginald Lawson, I love you. I promise to love, honor, and cherish you now and always. I promise not to talk Lita into anymore stupid stunts. I promise no church wedding. I promise to let you pick the restaurant for dinner any night you want. I promise to give you all the best projects and easiest clients. Will you marry me? Let me stay with you always?”
Lita smiled at Lorenzo and hugged his arms tighter around her as Lee pulled Janetta up to him.
“I have witnesses, Janetta,” he said. “You can’t back out.”
“Don’t want to,” Janetta said before she whispered in Lee’s ear.
A lewd suggestion, no doubt, Lorenzo thought, knowing he was right from the way Lee’s neck turned red.
“Yes,” Lee said, kissing Janetta.
Everyone cheered and clapped, rising to congratulate the new couple.
“I hope things can get back to normal now,” Lorenzo said to them as they moved to the door.
“So do we,” they said, waving goodbye.
But nothing was the same since he’d broken Lita’s trust, since she’d caught that woman kissing him at the beach last month. She said she forgave him, but he knew the truth. After everyone left and they went to their room, he tried to smile and did after Lita kissed him, her eyes twinkling and merry. He wouldn’t ruin this for her. But the effort proved too much. He had managed while everyone was there, but snapped at her once they were alone. Even that didn’t deter her. She went into the bathroom and came out wearing a pink baby doll nightie. He grew tired of pink. She smiled shyly at him. He looked away.
“I’ve got to brush my teeth,” he said, kissing her cheek as he passed by.
When he returned, she snuggled under the covers. He knew she wouldn’t try anything. She always wanted him to make the first move. He changed, lay down, and flipped off the light. She turned as he did, but away from her. She kissed his shoulder and whispered goodnight before she huddled herself on the other side of the bed. If this was normal, he’d pass on it.
The next night, he joined Gianni for a drink after work. Maybe this, drinking at a bar with Gianni, flirting and picking up on women, was Lorenzo’s normal. He didn’t do anything, just flirted; he let Gianni have the actual fun. Lorenzo realized he’d never phoned Lita to let her know he’d be late from work. He called, knowing there was no way to mask the talking and clinking glasses. All she said was “Oh” before she hung up. As he went to rejoin Gianni, his cousin’s cell rang.
“Yeah,” Gianni said, raising his eyebrows before walking away.
“What was that all about?” Lorenzo asked when he returned.
Gianni ordered another drink. “Women in love,” Gianni said. “Join me?”
“Maybe I should go.”
“Stay for one more.”
Lorenzo shrugged and sipped his vodka tonic. As he rose to go, someone tapped his shoulder. He turned. Lita stood in front of him, her hair wavy, a bit wild, though her makeup was flawless, a black trench coat cinched around her curves.
“Thanks, Gianni,” she said as his cousin rose, patted his back, and walked out.
Lita pulled Lorenzo out, into the parking lot behind the bar.
“Okay, Lita, what’s going on? Checking up on me?”
“No, I need to tell you I love you but things aren’t working.”
“What?” Lorenzo choked out.
“I mean…” Lita said, sighing in exasperation.
She opened her coat, revealing a black and red lace bra and panties. Lorenzo drew in his breath, taking her in from her black heels, thigh high black hose, lace panties, and demi cup bra. He stood, stunned, before he covered her back up. She kissed him and copped a feel.
“Not here, Lita. Keep it private,” he said, thrilled but not wanting anyone to see Lita. He needed her to be for his eyes only.
“But…” she said. She pouted.
“My car,” he whispered, pulling her to it. As he shut the door, he saw Gianni chatting with a woman by his car and he knew why. He couldn’t let anything happen there or Gianni might see. He gripped his keys hard. They’d leave a mark on his palm.
“Is this a one-time thing, or…” he said as he climbed in his seat.
In between kisses and caresses, Lita answered. “No, I know things haven’t been all they should be and that’s mostly my fault. I hope we can try to start talking more, especially about, um, sex. Did I surprise you?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I want to do more of that. I want to be the woman you need.”
“You are, Lita. You’re all the woman I need. But let’s go home.”
From Lita’s look, he knew she felt disappointed, or felt she failed, but he couldn’t explain. He’d make her forget when they got home.
23
Lita smoothed the folds of her russet early nineteen fifties era dress. She transferred Joanna’s bouquet of deep red roses to her other hand. Joanna was a beautiful bride and she’d never seen Pete smile so broadly or look so handsome as he and Joanna said the final words of their vows. The church, decorated in red and white flowers, was warm in scents, sights, and the presence of Joanna and Pete’s family and friends. The pews of the large church were filled only a few back on each side of the altar, but there wasn’t an unfamiliar face among them, unlike at her own wedding.
Lorenzo stared at her. She tweaked her ear, her special signal to him. He nodded. She grinned. They would meet later.
Lita chatted with Joe on the five minute ride in the limo up the hill to Vittorio’s for the reception. Nick and Joanna’s family had worked late into the night getting the meal prepped. Sophia, Celeste, and Lita had also spent the days before that baking cakes, cookies, and rolls for the celebration. The dining room table groaned with food: roast beef, mashed potatoes, broccoli casserole, peas and pearl onions, green beans and mushrooms, antipasti, rolls, and lasagna. The desserts fanned out on the table, tempting in their sweet glory, and the three layer cake, all white with marzipan fruits and roses dipped in glittering sugar draped each tier. Lita surveyed the room, wanting to find Lorenzo. He sauntered in and caught her eye. She waved and he came over.
“Quite a spread,” he said. He kissed her before she could answer. She made an affirmative and appreciative M sound. “I’d like to see some of those rooms upstairs. Vincente told me how they had the whole upper floor redone.”
“I’ve seen them. Very nice.” She fluffed her dress.
“Couldn’t we go upstairs?”
“That would be rude and there aren’t very many guests, we’d be missed.”
“Hello, my darlings,” Nick said. He kissed Lita’s cheek and thumped Lorenzo’s back. “Make sure you eat, yes?”
“You should, Nick,” Lita said. “I know you. You’ll get so busy you won’t.”
“Joanna’s grandma Polito shooed me out of the kitchen.”
“She’s something else,” Lita said.
They laughed. Joanna’s grandma Polito and Celeste were a study in contrasts, the former vociferous and commanding while the latter was calm and quietly persuasive. Maybe not so different. Lita took Nick’s arm.
“We’ll go together,” she said. They escorted her to the food.
The bodice of Lita’s dress curtailed her eating, but her stomach filled, both with food and the warmth of listening to the loud conversations and laughter of her friends and family. As some of Joanna’s many Polito cousins began cleaning up, music drifted from the ballroom. It usually housed a pool table, but this had been moved and the dark hardwood floors shone, ready for dancing. Burgundy curtains swagged back, letting in the mellow August sunlight and a shimmering view of the city, with the bay a rippling outline below.