Oliver
SHE’S WATCHING ME as I dress. But it’s her that deserves the attention. That dress was made for this body. It clings, but with respect for every other female who doesn’t stand a chance when she’s in the room. It doesn’t shout its’ sexiness, it whispers.
“What are you smiling at?” I say.
“You and your face. It’s a good one.”
I turn towards her.
“I’d kiss those lips if they weren’t wearing lipstick.”
She saunters up to me and puts her hands around my neck.
“The Oliver I know wouldn’t let a little Ruby Woo stop him.”
I kiss her gently because as much as I appreciate her willingness I’d really hate to ruin this image. It’s so beautiful. She doesn’t object. I think she appreciates my control, which she knows I’ll gladly lose later. I pick up my suit jacket and put it on. Then I hold her coat open for her.
“Let’s go celebrate our friends,” I say.
Outside the cool November breeze announces the seasons march towards Winter. Stori says it’s time for the extra blanket. Me, I sleep hot. I’ll keep her warm, wrapped in my arms. But there’s no denying the shift in the look and feel of the city. The trees have already reached their most vibrant colors and are dropping their leaves, people are starting to wear their heavier coats and the light of the sun has changed its angles.
We catch a cab and head for West 55th. It’s a short ride from our place to the Dream Hotel, where tonight’s event is being held in honor of Fig and Luca’s successful move to New York.
“Keep the change.”
We’re in the heart of Manhattan, between Times Square, Rockefeller Center, Central Park and the Theater District. The Dream Hotel is a restored 19th century Beaux Arts building, with art covered vaulted ceilings and dramatic pops of color. We’ve been here once before when Henry brought us for Sunday brunch. He said he thought I’d like the esthetics of the place. He was right. We walk through the doors into the lively lobby.
“Know where we’re going?”
“The Serafina Room. There it is,” she says.
Off to the left I spot the entry to the restaurant. There’s a sign posted that announces the private party inside. Fig says it’s mostly his parents New York friends and upper echelon business associates. As we enter I hear Luca’s voice and laughter above the relatively small crowd. I’d guess about ten round tables stand in the colorful room, and maybe a hundred people are socializing around them.
“Oliver! Stori! Over here!” Calls Fig.
Zarah makes her way to us first, followed closely by Fig.
Kisses and hugs are exchanged all around. People would guess we hadn’t seen each other in a year. Well maybe not these people who are used to the demonstrative Italians.
“This is a cool place, huh?” Zarah says.
“Love it,” says Stori.
“Wait till you hear the latest news,” Fig whispers.
He gets a pointed look from his wife.
“Let them tell it. They’ll be hell to pay, and you know it.”
Fig just laughs and holds his hands up in surrender.
“I’m not saying a thing.”
“Now you have to,” I say.
My protest is interrupted, by the bear hug I feel squeezing the life out of me. Luca’s loud voice rings in my ear.
“Bella coppia! The most beautiful couple has arrived!”
I release his grip on me and turn to see our friend Caroline decked out in her finest. Her dress is plastered on her, in a kind of Jessica Rabbit homage.
“Hello, you two lovebirds,” she says.
She gives us a kiss on each cheek. A few months back she would have been pissed for the entire night if she thought Luca complimented a woman other than her. It would have turned into a big deal. Things have changed. This is the Caroline we’ve come to love. It’s funny how we’ve all gotten used to their antics. I think they kind of like that we’re amused by them. The fact is they love each other. Of that I have no doubt.
Ever since the Dragoni boys relocated to New York, the three girls have become tight. Luckily Stori and I are on the same page. We like to be with our friends, but it takes something special like tonight to tear us away from our apartment. Technically, her apartment. We like to be alone. Sometimes we’re alone together. I never had that before. It’s great. Wish we were there now, me in my chair reading, her on the couch eating popcorn and watching her reality shows.
“Oliver! Everyone’s taking their seat,” Stori says.
“Oh, sorry. I was fantasizing about being back home. Lead on.”
We find our table. We’re sitting with the Dragoni’s.
Cosima’s hand raises in the air as we approach. “Stori! Oliver!”
We come up behind her chair and give and receive a warm greeting.
“Hello,it’s wonderful to see you and Santi,” says Stori.
I kiss Cosima’s cheek. Santi rises and shakes my hand. But his other hand touches my arm in a gesture of friendship. “Hello Santi. Nice to see you.”
“And you, Oliver. Tell me, are my boys behaving here in New York?”
He’s smiling and anyone else would think he was joking. But I know better. “Of course they are Santi. You and Cosima raised two good men.”
I put the emphasis on the word men. There’s no boys here. I think it’s about the most subtle way I can get my point across. He just smiles and pats my arm.
“Santi it’s time,” Cosima says.
We all take our seats and give our attention to the front of the room, where Santi heads.
“Hello, my friends and mi familia. It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it? My Cosima and I are happy to be hosting this dinner and reception in honor of our sons Figaro and Luca. As you all know both these two boys . . . excuse, men . . .” He looks directly at me. “. .have done an exceptional job of taking the reins at Dragoni Tires U.S. Division. Our Luca has secured our biggest contract to date. We couldn’t be prouder of them. So, I raise my glass to my sons, mi amores.”
The room of people break into applause. Luca has never looked happier. There’s tears in his eyes.
Fig whispers something in his ear. I see Luca nod, then take his wife’s hand and guide her up to where his father still stands.
“What? My son wants to say a few words.”
Santi gives the spot to Luca and Caroline who both look as if they’re about to burst.
“Thank you, Papa, for your kind words. It means the world to us. But now we have a gift for you.” He pauses and looks at his wife. She puts her arms around Luca’s waist and addresses the inquisitive faces in the crowd. “There’s going to be another Dragoni! We’re pregnant and due on Santi’s birthday, May 5th!”
The crowd erupts in applause and whistles of approval. Santi and Cosima make their way to the happy couple and it’s a love fest.
Stori leans over to Zarah. “How exciting! Caroline is going to look adorable pregnant.”
“Agreed. But Fig told me she hates having a big belly and not being able to wear her clothes. Last pregnancy she was pissed off the entire nine months. Then as soon as the baby’s born she’s the Madonna. We’re in for it my friend,” Zarah whispers.
Fig raises his glass to his three remaining table companions. “Here’s to one lucky baby and to Luca who’s going to need a nap very soon.”
We waited the appropriate time then made our excuses. Usually Stori and I don’t double book the weekend. We like at least one full day and night to ourselves. But today my parents are hosting a brunch at their home. Piper and her man are coming, Prue and Ty, and Henry. My mother and father want to get to know him better. I think they see a father- in-law in my future. Lately my mother has been hinting. She hasn’t said the word marriage but the woman has her eye on the prize. I can’t get mad at her though because I want the same thing. I’m sure she’d given up on the idea. She never speaks to me about it and I don’t want her to. When I sense Stori’s ready and the time’s right I won’t need any prompting from my mother.
“Don’t forget the champagne,” Stori says as we exit the taxi in front of the Brownstone.
The door swings open before I reach back inside and retrieve the two bottles on the floor. I hear my father’s words.
“Welcome! You’re the last ones to arrive, everybody’s inside enjoying their first mimosa.”
We greet each other and make our way in. It’s a happy gathering, with my mother and Piper looking at baby pictures of my sister and I on the wall, Edmund talking with Prue, and Ty with Gracey. She comes to us and throws her arms around Stori’s waist.
“You’ve got to taste my latest. Bacon-wrapped cantaloupe bites. Delicious!”
It’s still a shock to hear her speak so freely and happily. The last five months have turned things in the right direction. So much so that her continued recovery is becoming expected. She’s never going to be a hundred percent clear of all her problems. But the therapist has told us she thinks somewhere in the future Gracey should be able to live independently. Supporting herself is another matter. Luckily supporting herself isn’t an issue. I’ve got enough money to take care of her the rest of her life. And thanks to Stori’s guidance and her financial planner’s picks, I think it’ll stay that way.
We say our hellos and grab a mimosa to start the day. Gracey takes off for the kitchen, where she says Henry is helping her. Prue waves us over.
“Oliver, I’m happy to meet your muse,” Edmund says.
“It’s not hard to understand why I like to paint her, is it?”
“No. The hair, and eyes, the skin tone. Really, you capture her beauty perfectly.”
Prue beams with the delight of a woman who knows how to take a compliment. Ty has learned if you’re with a figure model you better be good at handling other men’s comments. Especially ones who buy a lot of art.
“Thank you. I do my best,” she preens.
Piper joins us when my mother heads for the other room. In the background, I hear the beeping of the oven calling the cook.
“Joe, come help me,” she says as she disappears down the hallway.
“What did I miss?” Piper says.
“I was just complimenting Oliver on his choice of muses.”
Piper responds with a silent statement of her own. She entwines her arm through his, declaring him off limits. She doesn’t know Prue would never be interested in another woman’s man. She’s about the most moral person I know.
Henry appears in the doorway and waves us in.
“Brunch is served, people. Come get it while it’s hot.”
We move to the kitchen where the big oak table heavy with food awaits. It’s set beautifully with all my mother’s best. China, crystal, napkins and tablecloth, and in the middle are Autumn grasses in a long ceramic trough. I see the artistic ribbon that runs through my genes. For the next three hours, the house is filled with laughter and love.
All around are people whose life has within the year turned in a positive direction. Piper has found a good relationship with a man who sees the beauty in her originality. Prue and Ty have discovered someone to make a home with, after having been on their own for so long. Henry has realized his fondest dream, happiness for his only child. And on top of that, it was him who made her dream come true. He was the one to save Whiskey River. My parents bask in the glow of real contentment, both their chickens happy and healthy with futures that look bright. Fear of the future has been erased, and ahead there’s time to be able to do things that have always been outside their reach. And Gracey, I see hope in her eyes, for the first time in years. The burden of anxiety eased, with a kind of calmness taking its place.
We’re all blessed or lucky or destined. I don’t know which. Once in a while the stars align in life. I guess that’s what’s happened for us. I’m not sure how long it’ll last, but for this moment in time I’m going to be aware it exists and appreciate it. Being in the moment is more than just a platitude. It’s easy with Stori. She makes it all easy.
We were the last to leave at seven thirty and by eight we were in our bed. Not asleep by any means. We made love. I took my time, relishing every touch and sound, the scent, and the look of her. God, what she does to me. Tangled in the sheets or lying completely covered, she tempts. She’d left her hair piled on her head, and when she was riding me she looked like a beauty from a John Singer Sargent painting. Milky white shoulders, small waist and creamy full breasts, a banquet for my eyes.
I showed my appreciation in every way I know she likes. I was tender. I was a little rough. Then I was tender again. I gave everything I had to give, and more. I took all she had to offer. Her response was my reward. And when we were too spent to continue, I held her in my arms until we both drifted off holding each other in our dreams.
All night and into this morning we slept like two children who missed their afternoon naps. I suppose yesterday’s alcohol had something to do with it. But mostly it was contentment born of the certainty that no matter what life slings at us she and I will stay solid. We’re young. Right now the sun shines on us. I know it’s the easy part, the shiny piece of the whole. I pray that someday I’ll know the old woman in her, and she the old man in me. It’s going to be beautiful. I expect we’ll have known heartache and disappointment along the way. It’s the story of every life, and what we all can expect no matter how charmed an existence. But with her by my side, in my bed, in my heart, I know I have it all. There’s no room for fear. There’s no shadow of doubt.
I love her.
My love Stori.