“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mister Valenti, Junior. To what do I owe the honor?” said a particularly leery and downright creepy looking Julia, as she eyed me in smiling contempt.
Thank God we were separated by miles, chatting on FaceTime, in what I could deem a neutral location where I wouldn’t be slapped in the face.
“I called to apologize,” I said as maturely as possible.
“Uh huh. And as I said, you don’t owe me an apology.”
“Here’s the thing,” I replied quickly. “Why I was so pissed off at the bureaucracy of my company? Because they disrespected me. And I don’t tolerate disrespect from my inferiors. They work for ME!”
“Oh?”
“And …the point is, I’m not mad at you. You didn’t disrespect me, Julia. You just told me the unflattering truth.”
“So you admit it?” she said tilting her head.
“Yes. You said nothing that was blatantly false. I mean, a psychiatrist would have to confirm your analysis, technically speaking…”
She laughed…reluctantly.
“But do I admit my attitude stinks? Yes. I do. And I’m sorry that I made you feel bad.”
“Well…” she said tiredly, finally letting go of my manhood with those tough and unforgiving eyes. “I appreciate your honesty.”
“What can I do to make it up to you? I mean…short of flying you to a private island for a romantic getaway?”
“There you go again,” she said with a shaming bob of her head.
“Sorry. I just mean…what do I have to do to show you that I’m human? That I’m trying?”
She paused and sighed, though she gave me a look of pity. And I would damn well take that.
“All right, I will meet with you one last time. Just to talk.”
“Okay. Great.”
“And I want a real interview this time.”
“Agreed. Very professional. Very sincere.”
“And it has to be in a neutral location. I don’t want to be in any beach house where you scored with all these supermodels.”
“Right. That makes sense. Where do you suggest?”
“My place. I will cook for you.”
“Really? You’ll cook for me?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Is the food poisoned or something?”
“I guess you’re just going to have to learn to trust me. If you really respect me, Ray, you will be able to have dinner with me and not worry about your life. All women are not out to get you, you know.”
“I know.”
“And there’s something else I want you to see, too.”
“What’s that?”
“That’s for you to learn. I think it’s what you’re looking for…”
“Oh?”
“It’s not sex.”
“Oh.”
“But if you trust me, you’ll think it’s worth looking at.”
“I can’t wait. Julia. I’d be honored to come.”
I was flabbergasted with delight! It was as if I was almost fired but the boss saved me at the last minute. I have no idea what that feels like, since I’ve never had a boss, but dammit, this felt like my moment. That moment where I had a second chance. Where I could change the destiny of my story.
I wanted to win her over, god knows for what reason, but I felt that losing her would be the end of something beautiful. Maybe this trust-building dinner was all for a reason. Maybe Julia had something to teach ME.
Julia took great delight in making me a personal and home-cooked dinner. She cooked me Egyptian style Ful Medames and mashed fava beans, along with something called Koshari, which was fantastic. It was so unusual and better than any meal I experienced in all the top rated restaurants across the world. As beautiful as it all was, my favorite was the dessert. She called it ghee, simmering butter with spices and dosa. Sweet and exquisite, exploding all over my taste buds.
This was truly food fit for a god and if she really wanted to poison me, this was the way I wanted to go.
“Fantastic,” I said, relieved that I didn’t feel woozy or see Julia grabbing a pair of knives.
“I’m glad you trusted me enough to come here.”
“Of course I trust you, silly,” I replied. You know I did take you to an island where you could have had your way with me.”
“And I did!” she said to my amusement.
“Yes, you did.”
“I think the reason I wanted to bring you here was to show you how the other half lives. I wanted you to be in a humble environment and eat something made by someone’s own hands…not a team of chefs. All I meant by that vicious harangue that I gave you was that…you have so much, Ray.”
I lost my smile and for once, began really listen.
“You have a start in life that most people could only dream about. So yeah, it sucks when you have to deal with assholes at work. But even on your worst day, you’re still living the dream. Why won’t you realize that?”
I tried to speak but no words came out. I shook my head in…it wasn’t disgust. Usually, when someone lectured me I lashed out at them or at least I became passive aggressive and started a fight. But when Julia busted my balls, all I could do was listen. She had a way of explaining things and filtering out all the bullshit. Just the love and discipline that maybe I felt I needed deep down.
“So what did you want to show me?”
“A long time ago, my mother was a poor working single mom. I don’t know what happened to my father, except that he split when I was a little girl. My mother never really dated anyone even though her family was always asking her when she was going to settle down and get a ‘good man’ for her children.”
I listened in awe of the story and the origin of Julia, a woman I could never figure out even if my life depended on it.
“I remember one day she said to them, ‘I may never get married. Because my children are more important to me than some man.’ I don’t think I ever forgot that. I figured my mom would probably stay single for the rest of her life rather than compromise her principles.”
“And did she?”
“Wait for it…” she said with a grin. “Finally, one day an odd-looking man approached her in the supermarket and the moment I saw him, I knew he was going to be my stepdad. I think it was the way he walked. He was average looking, not handsome by any means. But he walked with respect. He carried himself confidently but without swaggering.”
“Really?”
“They dated for a while and he remained the perfect gentleman, taking the time to get to know us, my sister Valerie and I. He was patient…loving…even if my mother never gave him a single thing, he was still the type of friend you want in life. Someone considerate. Altruistic, I guess you could say ”
“I see.”
“Then one day he was deployed. He was military, you see. Operation Desert Storm.”
“Oh. Does that mean…?” I said solemnly.
“Right before he left, he told my mom not to wait for him. That he might not be coming back. He thought of her comfort before his own. And what do you think my mother told him?”
“I don’t know,” I said glued to her eyes and eager to hear how the story ended.
“Of course…she told him she would wait for him. And that he would come back alive for her. And she demanded that he write her every day so they could keep in touch.”
“Just tell me, tell me! Did he…did he…”
“He made it back alive,” Julia said with a wistful smile. “And they got married. And that funny looking man became my stepfather Jason.”
She reached into a bag and pulled out an old letter. I immediately noticed an image written on it – a red jewel locket in the shape of a heart.
“Very vivid drawing, isn’t it? It was what he said he would buy her when he got back home. Every day he would write about that hypothetical locket, one he could afford to buy when he finally came home once and for all.”
“And did he?” I said with a smile as I read snippets of the love letter.
“See for yourself.”
She reached into her bag underneath some other letters and pulled out a locket—one in the same, as depicted in the letter. It was startlingly real, the drawing that is, and the old fellow made damn sure to replicate it completely, down to the last detail of the locket that was firmly in his mind all those months knocking at death’s door.
“Wow that’s amazing.” I grinned looking at the locket and quite amused at Julia’s story telling ability. “And I hate to sound vain but…why did you tell this to me? Right now of all times…”
“Because, Ray. I am giving this locket to you.”
“What? Why?” I said, almost panicking at the thought. It felt sickening…it felt strange and alarming.
“Not because I like you, you vain prick,” she laughed. “Because I think you need some emotional connection in your life. You think it’s some great thing to go through life empty in heart and scoring with every woman you meet. But I’m giving you that locket now. So you can remember, while you’re sitting in bed one night, next to a stranger that you don’t know or have any desire to know…that she has a story to tell. Each and every one of ‘us’ has a personal story. And I don’t want you to forget that.”
I listened in agony, not having the foggiest notion of what to say.
“Don’t make a scene, silly. It’s just my way of saying I forgive you. I’m not holding a grudge. And I’m not going to embarrass you in the interview.”
“I appreciate it...” I said, knowing that I appreciated her tolerance for sure…but everything else was truly up in the air at that moment. “But…maybe you should keep this.”
“No. It’s old memories. Both of my parents have passed on, Ray. That locket’s been sitting in a box collecting dust for a long time. But maybe you can appreciate it. It’s alive when it’s in your hands.”
I nodded in uncertainty. It felt wrong to accept it and yet right, in a strange tingling way.
“So come on. Now it’s your turn. Tell me your story.”
“What story?”
“Your love story. Maybe it was your parents’ love story. Or the story of your first love who broke your heart. I know there’s a reason for your being, Ray. The way you are. Everyone has a reason for being.”
“Oh. Well…I guess…uh…I’d have to think about it…”
“We have plenty of time. I don’t have to be anywhere. And I know you’re not needed urgently since you’re the boss.”
“Well…I guess my first memory is of my mother.”
“Aww, how cute, Ray,” she said.
“Her name was Sheila. One of the first memories I have of her is just…her. Staring at me.”
“Oh?”
“And just…” Ray shrugged. “Shaking her head. Like she was talking to god or talking to a demon inside of her soul sharing some unspoken thought.
“Are you shitting me?”
“No,” I replied quickly. “One day I asked her what was wrong. I was just a kid so I figured I had done something wrong. She told me she didn’t know. I don’t think she ever acted ‘normal’ after that one moment. The next thing I remember was my mother and my father screaming at each other. That seemed to last for days. The same argument. I thought it was strange what they were talking about. It didn’t make a lot of sense to me. Something about my dad screaming that my mom liked to suck the cocks of strangers.”
“Jesus, Ray.”
“And I thought it was so weird that mom did that as a hobby,” I said weakly, and for the first time I could remember since ever, I felt my voice start to crack. “What a strange thing. I figured all moms like to do that, or so the child me thought. My father lost his temper. But he wasn’t the one who cheated. He never laid a finger on her.”
Julia looks hurt and scandalized but a geyser had been open and so the truth flowed at that moment.
“He tried to make her happy, fuck, I tried to make her happy. I even asked her one time if it was something I did. If I was making them both this way. What I could do to change…”
I caught Julia looking at me like a deer caught in headlights like she regretted opening up this wound. But neither of us could turn back now.
Suddenly I laughed. “Then she said to me, ‘It was something you did. You were born. But nobody can change that. Don’t blame yourself, honey. Be proud of who you are.’”
I finally released a tear, thinking back to a memory that meant nothing in particular to me. Except that, in that moment, I realized that nothing was my fault. Nothing was her fault. Nothing was dad’s fault. Nothing really mattered except the here and now.
“And so I became proud of who I was,” I said in apology. “Because that’s all she taught me. Uh…so anyway, she eventually left my father behind. My father…goddamn drunkard, all he knew was business. He didn’t know anything about how to raise a decent kid, a moral person. All he had in life was the business. Why didn’t I inherit his workaholic personality? I can only wonder. And you know all he said to me when I asked him for advice?”
“What?”
“He said, ‘Don’t ever hate your mother, boy. She’s a hero! She’s a woman finding herself. A feminist! She’s a woman who’s got the world by the balls.’”
Julia stared in discomfort, even as I mimicked my father’s voice, taking on his own cynicism and the bizarre way he over-emphasized his words. “I don’t think I ever understood it…until now…that he was being totally sarcastic when he said it. I always thought he just really loved her.”
I laughed for a few awkward moments as Julia stared at me in pain…but for once, her face was absent of all judgment and quiet resentment.
Much to my surprise, she didn’t immediately get rid of me. She actually requested I stay the night. But to my disappointment she declared quite clearly:
“I’m not going to have sex with you. Because I promised no sex, and I am a woman of my word.”
I laughed it off. She made a promise not to succumb to sexual temptation while we were together but still “broken up”. And I accepted it. In fact, I found her counterproposal far more erotic and fascinating. She simply had me stay the night in her apartment, her own bed. With the exclusive agreement to not touch each other, aside from occasional elbow and arm snuggling.
At first, I thought it was a game…but as the night went on I realized that this was real. A real issue of trust. She wanted to trust me, just as I trusted her…enough to bear my soul to her, something I had never done before. Something that not a single person ever asked me to do.
Then, as the night continued on, the coldness of the winds outside striking me and sending me into shivers, I felt comforted by the notion of just sleeping together peacefully in the same room as a friend. Someone I trusted. Someone with no agenda except that she was here…and I didn’t want her to leave.
Sometime during the night I did the unthinkable—the most profane thing imaginable. I reached out with my hands and hugged Julia. I knew she had awakened because I could feel her breathing change…she was probably just one breath away from turning around and kneeing me in the crotch.
But then she realized that I merely wanted to hold her. I only wanted to be in her presence. Intimacy was what I craved. It was a brand new feeling that felt both inexplicable and terrifying. And I never wanted it to go away.