186 Miles (16 page)

He
went slowly at first, pushing my legs back an inch at a time.  “Is this okay?”

“Yes,”
I lied.  Really, I would rather have my legs wrapped around him.  I wasn’t used
to all of this yoga stretching nonsense.

He
pushed deeper. 
Oh, gotcha.  This
is why people did this.  I felt him
everywhere, practically in the back of my throat.  I whimpered a little.

He
stilled.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,
you’re just a little… big.”

He
smiled. 
Oh, God.  Way to go, Rachel.  Like he needs
more
encouragement.

“Well,”
he said, sliding back in, “you let me know if I’m too
big
for you.”  He let
out a short laugh. 
That was it.
  The last time I
ever
said that.

He
was gentle with me, pushing in ever so slightly, but going deeper with every
movement.  I was getting used to the angle, but it was more demanding than any
other time we had been together.  Not that it wasn’t good.  It was
always
good. 
Like
so
astonishingly good.

He
increased his pace just slightly lifting my behind higher off of the bed,
cupping it with his hands to place me where he wanted.  “This good, Rachel?”

“Yes,”
I breathed.

“Tell
me.”

Oh
God, not this again.  Didn’t he know that the talking embarrassed me?
 Well, I guess
sometimes
it didn’t.

“Yes,
it’s good, Vince.”

He
pushed harder.  “Yeah,
just
good?”

Faster.

“Oh...
Really
good!”

Harder
and
faster.  This time, he added his hand, coarse against me at the same
pace…
Oh, Jesus Christ.

“Fuck,”
I blurted. 

“You
feel
so
good, Ray.”  He breathed into my skin, licking up the side of my
calf.  “You taste so incredible.”  I could feel him swelling.  “I’m not gonna
last.”

He
lifted me up another couple of inches, elevating me off of the bed, gripping my
hips.  I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, my body convulsing.  “Vince!”  

He
let my legs go; they fell naturally to the sides of the bed. 
Oh, sweet
relief
.  He got close to my face, his body now lying directly on top of
mine, pushing his hips into me.  Lightly biting my ear, he whispered, “I love
you so much.”  He groaned one last time and gripped at my shoulders, his body
silent except for his chest contracting with shallow breaths.

He
finally looked up, propping his elbow on the bed, still lying on me.  “Our
first room christening.”  He was smiling big, his dimple showing.

I
patted him on the back.  “Yes, honey.  Now get off of me.  You weigh a ton.”

“I
do
not
.  I’m only 185 pounds.”

Whoa,
really?
  “How
fucking
tall
are you?”

He
laughed.  “You know how tall I am, baby.  You can
see
me, right?”

“I’m
really bad at that kind of thing.”

“Eh,
six foot two.  I don’t know, maybe three.”  He kissed my neck and eased out of
me, rolling to my side.

“Isn’t
that like super low body weight?”

He
laughed again.  “Um, I don’t
think
so.  No doctor has ever said
anything.  I’ve always been like this.  I’ve never really thought about it.”

I
was thinking about it now.
 I
was five feet, two inches.  152 pounds. 
Was he really only 33 pounds
heavier than me?  And a foot taller?
 
God, I needed to hit the fucking
treadmill.
  I had always been this weight.  Since junior high, maybe
before.  It had bothered me a bit from time to time, not in clothes so much,
but definitely getting naked.  Ryan had always liked my body, so it hadn’t
bothered me enough to make life altering changes, like actually getting a gym
membership.

“Oh. 
Well, okay.”  I sat up, pulling down my t-shirt.  I leaned over the bed,
reaching to find my underwear and shorts.

“Hey,”
he pulled at my shirt.  “Come here.”

I
nabbed my underwear off of the floor and pulled them up.  I faced him, still
sitting.  “What?”

“What
happened?”

“What
do you mean?”

“I
mean that you told me I was heavy and then we talked about my weight for like
five seconds and then you wouldn’t look at me.”

“You’re
33 pounds heavier than me.” 
Did I
literally
just tell him how much I
weighed?

He
smiled.  “So?  You’re the fucking hottest girl I’ve ever been with.  Who
cares
that I’m 30 pounds heavier than you?”

“33. 
And
a foot taller.”

“Rachel. 
Stop.”  He placed a hand to my shoulder.  “I
love
you.  I don’t look at
you as some sort of number.  You are fucking hilarious.  You’re smart.  You’re
an
architect
, for Christ’s sake.  You’ve got like an
actual
career.  You love your friends.  You’d do anything for them… for me… for my
brother.  You volunteer.  You’re a great fucking cook.  You dress like you’re
going to a cocktail party when you go to Target.”  He looked up at me.  “You
are my
dream
girl.  I
mean
it.”

I
kissed him.  Wet and long.  Then I showed him how much I thought that he was
my
dream guy too.

I
sat near the window, continuously looking out.  They were supposed to arrive
around 6 pm.  It was 6:20 now.

“Get
away from the window, Ray.  You look like a stalker,” Vince joked.

“Stop. 
I’m nervous.”  I stood and rubbed my hands together.  “Like
really
nervous. 
What if they hate me?”

“Can
you hear yourself?”  He smiled.

“Come
on, my own mother doesn’t even like me.” 
It was true.

“Now
you’re being ridiculous.  She’s just mad right now.  She’ll be fine in a
month.”

He
hadn’t met my mother.  She could make holding a grudge into a fine art.  Once,
when I was five, I decided that I wanted to cut my own bangs.  I did.  When she
saw me, she took those scissors and cut the remaining hair I had to about an
inch all over.  I went to school that way.  That’s how she taught me and Elsa
“life lessons.”

I
went back to the window.  They were pulling up in a silver sedan.  I ran to the
bathroom and checked my lipstick, my teeth, makeup, hair. 
Was I too dressed
up?  Would they think I was trying too hard?
  I went through my wardrobe
forty times and decided on a yellow and white striped, pleated dress with a
thin yellow belt.  It was sleeveless and had a collar that mimicked the petals
on a daisy.  When I picked it, I felt like it was an ideal choice.  Now,
looking in the mirror, I felt like an idiot.

“Get
out here, weirdo,” Vince called.

“I
look stupid.”

“You
look stupid
hot
, so come on.”

Ugh.
  I joined him in the living room
and placed my hands on my hips.  I didn’t know how to stand.  I had cast away
all customary behavior.

“What
the fuck are you doing?”  He smiled.  “Relax, Ray.  They’re
two
people. 
And they’re
not
scary.  So get over here and act normal.”

“God…”
I groaned.

Vince
went to the door and opened it as they walked up.  I looked at the ground,
focusing on breathing exercises.  In.  Out.  In.  Out.

“Hey,
guys!”

“Oh
my goodness, my sweet baby,” Belle responded, her Italian accent thick.  She placed
her hands on his cheeks, taking him in.  It looked as if tears were forming. 
She was dark skinned with dyed, espresso hair.  She, too, was wearing a dress. 
Thank God.

“Belle,
leave that boy alone.”  Anthony was tall like Vince, but broader.  He wore a
Hot Doug’s Sausage Superstore t-shirt and a pair of loose fitting flap-pocket
chinos.

Belle
turned to me.  “And this must be your Rachel.”  Her voice cracked on my name.

“Yes,
Mamma.  Rachel, this is my mom, Belle, and my dad, Anthony.”

“Hi,”
I croaked, my voice giving out.  “So nice to meet you.”

Belle
walked to me and placed her hands on the sides of my neck.  “Innamorata, you
are the girl who brings my Vincent back to life.”

Whoa,
that was a lot of pressure.  Note to self:  ask Vince later what “innamorata”
means.  Oh God, it probably means adulterer.

“Thank
you, Mrs. Conti.”

“No,
my love, you call me Belle.”  She leaned into me and placed her head on my
shoulder, wrapping her arms around me.  She rubbed my back slowly.

“Mamma,
you’re gonna scare her,” Vince laughed.

She
pulled away from me, her eyes glistening.  I felt my throat start to tighten. 
She noticed.  “Oh, this is an emotional day for all of us, no?”  She looked me
up and down.  “Look at Rachel, Anthony.  Is she not the most beautiful girl in
the world?  She looks like a flower.  It’s no wonder our Vincent loves her so
much.”

I
felt my body flush.  I was sure that my cheeks were betraying me.

“Yes,
love, she is, but you are gonna make that girl run away.  Let her go, Belle. 
We are here
all
weekend.”  He patted her back.

“Okay,
then.”  She took a deep breath and focused her eyes on me.  “I will try not to
scare you, baby.  I am just so happy today.  I spent the last few months
thinking about you.  What you would look like, how you would be with my son…
would I see that look in his eye?  Were you the one for him?  And now, when I
see you, I know.” 

She
ended it there. 
Well?  Was I?

I
squeezed her hands in mine.  “Thank you.”

Vince
put his hand on her shoulder.  “Mamma, can we let Rachel go now?  Let’s drink
something.  Papa, do you want a beer?”

“Yes,
figlio, let’s drink.  Your mamma, she talk the whole way here.  She was so
nervous that she changed that dress five times at home.”  He patted Vince on
the back.

“I
hear you talking about me, Anthony.  I still can’t believe you wore the hot dog
t-shirt.  Rachel, I’m so embarrassed.  Look at my husband and this terrible
sausage shirt.”

“I
love Hot Doug’s,” I replied.

“See,
Belle?  Some people understand the sausage.”  Anthony winked at me.

Belle
rolled her eyes.  “Okay, marito, whatever you say.”

*

Vince
made dinner.  Nonna Conti’s manicotti this time.  I wanted to take them out,
but I had no idea what kind of food they liked.  Best to stick to the
classics.  Besides, Vince was a really good cook.  I made cupcakes for
dessert.  Chocolate with espresso ganache, a recipe that Elsa had taught me. 
Vince could
cook
; I could
bake
.

“My,
Rachel, that was a damn fine little cake,” Anthony said, patting his round
belly.

“Thank
you, Anthony.  Have as many as you’d like.”  It felt way too informal not
calling him by his surname.  My mother would
not
have been proud.

Belle
helped me with dishes while Vince and Anthony stared at the colossal TV.  “Do
you want to go out back and have some wine, honey?  We can leave these boys in
here.  It’s a nice night and I want to talk to the girl that both of my sons
are gushing over.”  She smiled.

“That
would be nice.”  I put a dishwasher tab in and pressed the start button.

Vince
and I had gone to the liquor store the night before.  We stocked up on beer and
wine; our selection was diverse.  “Belle, what kind of wine do you like?  I’ve
got Chardonnay, Shiraz, Merlot…” my voice trailed off.

“Oh,
my Rachel, I don’t care what kind.  The one with the most alcohol in it,
okay?”  She rubbed my back and gave me a squeeze at my waist. 
Was this what
mothers were like?

I
uncorked a bottle of Riesling and poured us two generous glasses.  When I
filled them only halfway, Belle gave me a gesture with her hand, indicating
that a fill to the top was in order.  We took our glasses and sat in the only
two rocking chairs on the wood plank deck.  Vince had an obstructed view of the
canal, but it was still beautiful at night.

“What
a beautiful city.  I love that my Vincent ends up here.  He was just working
that job, you know, in Chicago and that’s it.  He comes home, he has no life.” 
She rocked back and forth.  “And your poor Ryan, he dies.  And Vincent, he has
one more thing in his life that makes his heart sick.  So, he comes down here
to mourn his friend.“

She
reached over and placed her hand on mine.  “And he comes home like I’ve never
seen him before.  He tells me nothing, but I know.  Something has happened to
him.  I talk to my Jackie, he doesn’t tell me nothing.  So, I’ve gotta put a
little more pressure on my baby.  You know Jackie, he’s an easy nut to crack.” 

Pausing
to sip her wine, she continued, “It turns out, Ryan has left a widow.  She is
beautiful and smart and has captured the eye of my oldest son.  Normally, I
would be against this.  You were a woman in mourning.  He should have given you
time to grieve.  But instead, he is coming down every weekend, calling you
every day.  My sons get this from their father.  They can’t leave a woman
alone.”

She
winked at me.  “My Anthony wore me down, calling three to four times a day.  Of
course, I would have married him eventually.  He was the most handsome man… he
looked just like my Vincent.  Tall and so slim back then.  Not like now, baby.” 
She gestured to her stomach and stuck it out, rubbing it for effect.  

I
laughed and took a sip of wine.  “Vince eats so much and never gains any
weight.”

“Oh,
you just wait, honey.  His day is coming, I say.  If his papa is any indication
of the future, you better start buying the pants with the elastic, you know?”

She
was funny.  I felt comfortable.  Loved.

“Has
my Vincent asked you to marry him?”

I
looked at her, nearly choking on my wine.  “No, why?”

“He
is ready, you know.”  She was quiet.

I
looked down at the deck.  “I know, but I’m…”

She
cut me off.  “It’s too soon, I know.  You haven’t had time to say goodbye to
your husband.  I know that my son is a good man.  He is so passionate and
thoughtful.  I know he only thinks of you.  He just forgets that he was alone
and you were
not
.  You were thrown a curveball.  No one knows how long
you need to recover.  Some people never get over it.  Some people find their
fate and can’t deny it.  You know what I’m saying to you?”

I
nodded.  “My mother never got over my father.”

“I
know.  Vincent tells me that your relationship with her is strained.  She
doesn’t understand what you have found here.”

I
stared at the canal, the sky dark now.  Belle squeezed my hand.  “Do you need
more time?  Is Vincent the one for you?  If he’s not, you need to let him go. 
He will fall apart.”

I
turned to face her.  “He
is
the one.”  I meant it.  “I feel like
everything is so screwed up though.  I wasn’t supposed to fall in love, Belle.” 
My eyes were filling with tears. 
Fuck it, she was just going to have to
witness my breakdown.
  “I wasn’t supposed to meet him.  I should be at
home, drowning in ice cream.”  My voice cracked. 

She
patted my back.  “That’s why we needed the full glasses, baby.  I’m gonna tell
you this.  You are a lucky girl, dear Rachel.  Most women, they get one shot at
a happy life with a man that they love.  Some never get even
one
chance. 
You?  You get this gift two times.   It seems as if God is smiling down on you,
ragazza dolce.”

“What
does that
mean
?”  I looked into her face carefully.

She
looked to the water.  “It just means that my boy picked the right girl.  I hope
you will be patient with each other.  I know you feel pressure right now, love,
but you pick the pace that
you
go at.  If you are not ready, you make
that call.  You tell him that.  He will wait for you.  He will seem impatient and
he may say things that make him seem like an insensitive man, but he will wait.”

I
wiped under my eyes lightly with my fingertips.  The last thing Vince needed
was to see that I’d been crying.  He was already worried about me.

Belle
stood.  “Come on, sweetheart.  Let’s go see what the boys are doing.  They must
miss us like crazy by now,” she whispered, winking at me.

*

I
went back to my house after my evening with Vince’s family.  It felt
uncomfortable to sleep at his place with his parents there.  He was
disappointed, but he understood.