Having Fun with Mr. Wrong (17 page)

“Come on, we’ll watch the game,” Ernest said to Guido. “Want a beer?” Without waiting for an answer, he went to the refrigerator, popped the top off his can, and handed the other to Guido.

Guido shucked his coat and added it to the heavily laden coat rack. “Sure thing. What about the bags?”

“We’ll get ’em later. The game is already in the third quarter. Come on. We don’t want to miss it.”

“No, you don’t,” Elizabetha hollered. “You will put the luggage in Carmala’s room first.”

Guido took a pull from his beer, put it on the kitchen counter, and picked up the bags. Carmala lifted the last lone one and led the way up stairs to her old room. She was amazed that her parents would let them sleep together, but they loved Guido. And Carmala and Guido had been together four years. She supposed her parents just accepted it.

They trudged up the carpeted stairs and walked the narrow hallway toward her room. The same pink-and-red-flowered wallpaper, pink shag carpets, and, yeah, the old bookshelves packed with her favorite paperbacks brought her back to the years she lived, studied, and worked here. She ran her hand along the titles. Maybe she would reread
Little Women
by Louisa May Alcott.

In some ways, she wished she could leave the complications of living in the big city and come back home. There was nothing like lying in her old bed, gazing at the flowered wallpaper, which amazingly still appeared new, and not having a care in the world. For Carmala, life had produced changes—some good, some not.

Yeah, so great to be home.

****

“Got your beer here, buddy. Grab a seat.” Ernesto motioned for Guido to sit on the end of the couch next to his easy chair.

Guido settled on the overstuffed sofa, sinking into a comfortable position. Being with Carmala’s dad was like being with his own kind. Ernie stood for the dad he wished he had. Over the years, he and Ernesto had built a strong bond. Carmala and he had celebrated many holidays together with her family—they’d split them with Mama—and visited Carmala’s parents in Philadelphia throughout the year, as well. Ernesto probably was the closest thing to a dad he’d ever get. But more than that, he was a good friend.

Guido didn’t have many friends. Other than having an occasional beer with the guys from work, he didn’t fraternize in New York. And the guys at work were often anxious to return to their own families. Or the single guys wanted to hit the town. He’d long ago lost contact with any school buddies. His life now revolved around Carmala. He supposed he appeared henpecked to any other guy looking in on his life.

But he was really happy with her.

“Who’s winning?” Guido took a long gulp of his beer.

“The Giants, but the Eagles are on the offense now. We’re coming back at you.”

Guido laughed. He didn’t follow football much, but he enjoyed watching the game with Ernesto.

Guido finished his beer, and Ernesto grabbed his empty can, went into the kitchen, and returned with two fresh ones.

“Here ya go, buddy. Still on commercial break?”

“Yep.”

Ernesto pulled back his recliner and drank his beer with obvious contentment. “So how’s work?”

Guido loved talking about his work with Ernesto, a retired union man himself. “It’s great. I’ve been promoted to lead electrician and hopefully, soon, foreman on the WTC rebuild project.”

“That’ll keep you busy.”

“The pay raise with the promotion is substantial. And if I do a good job, I’ll be able to keep the managerial role for other projects in Manhattan. Keyes Electric is expanding and winning some great contracts.” He drank his beer. Carmala was a wine drinker, so he didn’t drink beer often. But, man, it sure tasted good. The fizzy malt glided down his throat.

“That’s great, son. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Guido didn’t want to brag, but he was proud of his success at work, and Ernesto could relate to him. Carmala tried to be supportive but totally didn’t get what he did for a living. No matter how hard he’d tried to explain. “About time. I’ve been with Keyes for nine years.”

“You know, I don’t know how to say this. But…Ah, well. I never meddled in Carmala’s love life.”

Guido’s heart pounded. What was Carmala’s dad getting at? Did she complain about his behavior? Or tell him about their fights?

Ernesto cocked his eyebrows. “Ah, I see you’re getting nervous. Don’t be. It’s just that she’s all the way up there, and I feel somewhat comforted that you’re around. But with all the crime in that city and the hours she works—”

“I know what you’re saying, Ernie. Believe me, I don’t particularly like it when she’s in the office late at night and then takes the subway home. Drives me nuts.”

Carmala’s dad leaned over to Guido. “That’s exactly what I mean. There’s all kinds of scumbags on the subways and even walking the streets at night. The business district becomes a ghost town after hours. Every time I read about the crime in the paper—I worry.”

“You’re telling me. I’ve tried to meet her when she works late, but she gets mad and thinks I’m being too possessive.”

“When my daughter gets something in her head, there’s no changing her mind.”

Guido told his side of the story about the night at Delmonico’s.

Ernesto leaned back in his easy chair, pausing for a moment. “And she just left you there?”

Guido nodded. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but you might as well know. I’m going to ask if we can move in together.”

“Really?” Ernesto didn’t appear to disapprove but added, “Any possibility for marriage?”

“I gotta take one step at a time with Carmala. I don’t want to scare her off. Her independence is important to her. But you see, if I move in, I can help her out financially and keep an eye on things. She’s moved into a new apartment. I helped her pick it out.”

Ernesto nodded and seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. “I’d like to see my daughter married someday, but in this day and age, I suppose moving in together is the first step. So I’ll be happy with that, for now.”

“No worries, sir. I’ll be talking to you someday about marrying her. There’s no way I’m letting Carmala go. She’s the love of my life.”

Ernesto lifted himself out of his seat and slapped Guido on the shoulder. “That’s my boy! I’ll grab us a couple of more beers. Keep ’em fresh.”

****

Carmala was in the middle of unpacking when she heard the back door open. Her mom had hung heavy metal bells on an inside door hook. Anyone could pick up someone coming from miles away. She heard her nieces’ excited chatter and ran downstairs to greet them.

“Aunt Carm! Aunt Carm!” Three-year-old Cristie jumped into Carmala’s arms.

The seven-year-old, Isabella, wrapped her arms around Carmala’s waist. “We’re so glad you’re here. We miss you!”

When the girls let go, Carmala’s, sister, Joanne, pulled her in for a hug. “Merry Christmas. How was the trip in?”

“Pretty good. It’s a dreary day, but we’re here,” said Carmala. “Where’s Frank?”

“He’s looking for a parking spot.”

Carmala’s sister and her family lived in New Jersey, just twenty minutes away, practically right over the bridge.

“Always a major feat, especially in small neighborhoods like this. It’s one of the things I
don’t
have to worry about in New York, since I don’t drive.”

“Did Santa come?” asked Cristie.

“He sure did. See all the gifts under the tree.” Carmala nodded in the appropriate direction.

Elizabetha had set up the eight-foot live Douglas fir near the television in the living room. Carmala, her parents, and Guido stored their presents wrapped with multiple ribbons in bright colors of red, green, and silver snugly under the tree.

****

Later that afternoon Carmala helped her mother set the Christmas table with a poinsettia linen tablecloth, matching napkins, and her parents’ finest Italian china. Carmala carefully worked with the pieces to avoid breaking anything.

Ernesto, Guido, and Frank came in from the living room and gathered around the table. Her father pulled out his decanter of homemade manhattans, a Rosa Christmas staple, and poured glasses for the adults.

Carmala, her sister, and their mother skittered back and forth from the kitchen with heaping platters of food. In the midst of the chaos, the door opened, and Carmala’s brother Sammy, the middle Rosa child, struggled to get inside, his arms loaded with gifts and luggage. Elizabetha attempted to gather the gifts before the girls caught him, but she was too late. He put his packages down as the girls ran in from the living room, where they were playing with the toys they’d brought from home.

“Uncle Sammy, Uncle Sammy!” Cristie leaped into his arms before he could take his coat off.

“Hey, girls.”

Sammy was flushed with the chill of the weather, but Carmala loved seeing how he’d swelled with happiness.

“Sammy, you’re always coming in at the last minute.” Elizabetha shook her head. Sammy brushed her off as she slipped away to put his gifts under the tree.

“Did you bring those from Santa in California for us, Uncle Sammy?” asked Isabella, eyeing the gifts her grandma carried away.

“He did, and he told me to tell you that you have to eat your dinner before you open them.”

“I wanna open them now. I’m not hungry,” Cristie wailed.

Elizabetha reappeared in the kitchen. “I made you girls your favorite turkey stuffing with the sausage gravy.”

“Yay! I love the sausage gravy,” Isabella cried.

“Me too!” said Cristie.

“Come on, girls. Let’s get around the table. Everyone, come on,” Elizabetha said.

Sammy sat at the table next to Frank and accepted a manhattan. “Thank you. The connecting flight from California was delayed. I thought I was going to spend Christmas night in Chicago.”

The pungent and sweet taste of the manhattan burned Carmala’s throat, but after the second sip, it went down more smoothly. Whiskey wasn’t her first choice in liquor, but her father’s concoction couldn’t be beat.

“Okay, everyone, before we dig in, it’s time for the blessing,” Ernesto said.

Everyone gathered hands. “Dear, Lord, thank you for all that you’ve given us, for bringing our family together today safe and sound. God bless the baby Jesus. Please watch over us during the New Year. Bless this food we are about to eat. Amen.”

An “amen” resounded in unison. Ernesto held up his manhattan. “And Merry Christmas.”

The food platters were passed around, and everyone piled up their own plates.

Joanne gave the girls extra raviolis. “You have to eat the string beans too,” she told them as they wrinkled their noses in disgust.

Carmala listened in on parts of the dinner conversations, not knowing which stream of conversation to follow. She wanted to absorb everything now that the Rosa family were spread across the country. It was difficult to keep up with everyone. The combination of factual updates mixed with elements of drama irked as well as entertained her.

“How’s the job going?” Frank asked Sammy.

“It was the best thing I ever did. The relocation to Sacramento was the only way to get the promotion, and now that I run the graphics department, I call the shots.”

“That’s great. I never took advantage of relocation opportunities. Being that we have the girls to consider. But then Carmala knows all about relocation, don’t you?” Frank asked.

“Relocation and other matters. I’ve been adjusting to a new job over the last couple of months and moved into a new apartment, paid for by the new company,” Carmala replied.

Elizabetha pinned her with an accusatory glare. “I guess I can’t expect any grandchildren from you or Sammy.” She shook her head with feigned sadness. “Where did I go wrong?”

Ernesto waved his finger at his wife. “Don’t give up on Carmala so soon, Elizabetha. Guido’s in the picture. He’s a man with plans. I can tell. I’m sure his mama wants little ones too.”

“Hey. Stop it. I’m sitting right here. You don’t have to marry me off or push for grandchildren yet. There’s plenty of time.” Carmala’s face burned, and she stole a glance at Guido.

He winked at her and squeezed her hand under the table. “Yeah, we have plenty of time. No rush. Carmala is busy, and so am I.” He glanced at her. “You should tell them all about your new job. She’s really good at it. And they love her.”

Carmala took a few moments to regale her family with details about her position at Synergy Plus, how she’d switched from the role of an auditor to a salesperson, and the clients she’d handled.

When she’d finished, her father smiled. “We’re so proud of you, honey.” He held up his manhattan. “And, Sammy, your graphics job sounds like a real great opportunity for you. I’m proud of you, Son.” He waved his glass toward his kids around the table. “I’m proud of all of you.”

****

Later that night, after the girls opened their gifts, everyone gathered around the television to watch
The Wizard of Oz
, another Rosa Christmas tradition. Halfway through it, the girls fell asleep, and when the movie ended, Joanne and Frank packed them into the car and went home. The remainder of the family sat around the dining room table, enjoying sambuca, coffee, and Italian pastries. Close to midnight, Carmala and the rest of her family turned in for the night, with Sammy sleeping in his old quarters in the basement.

That night, Carmala had a nightmare. In her dream, she and Guido were fighting. He wanted her to quit her job. He had come into an inheritance from his aunt in Sicily and had proposed marriage. He tried to convince her that she didn’t need to work anymore. But she refused to quit. He followed her to work, and they quarreled. Then, in front of her coworkers, he struck her, giving her a black eye. She had been mortified, and somehow, he convinced her she didn’t need a career anymore.

She awoke in night sweats. Guido slept soundly beside her, so she crept out of bed and tiptoed down the hallway into the bathroom, then peered at herself in the mirror. A cold sweat dampened her skin, and her eyes were dilated. It was only a dream. Guido would never take her career away. Would he? Why was she so shaken? It wasn’t real, only a dream.

Yet the dream triggered memories of a bad time from her past, when she was under the influence of an intoxicating love for the boyfriend she ran away with, Anthony Forchetta. She remembered looking at herself in a bathroom mirror one unfortunate night many years ago.