Becoming Mona Lisa (23 page)

“I'm terribly sorry about that, Mrs. Siggs,” the driver said, as he strolled up the sidewalk. “Our ability to find our customers is only as good as the information typed into the computer at the point of sale.”

The driver seemed pretty cool, so I smiled at him. He was bringing me a new rug, and he'd definitely undergone an attitude adjustment. “I'm Mike Nichols,” the driver said, extending his hand. I shook it, as a short guy emerged from the back of the truck.

I found this odd. “Who's that?”

“That's Phil,” Mike said.

“He rides in the back?” I asked.

“When he eats bean burritos for lunch, he does,” Mike explained.

I spent the next hour observing through the porch window as the carpet layers completed the transformation of my new living room, and by four o'clock, they were gone.

I was rolling around on the living room floor with two kittens when Tom got home. The Berber carpet was wonderful, and in all the years I'd lived in my house, this was the first time I'd voluntarily come in contact with the floor covering. Tom kicked off his shoes by the door, pulled off his socks, and began dancing.

“What's in the bags?” I asked, noticing several large shopping bags in the hallway, which was also covered with new carpeting.

“Mom always wanted a daughter. She bought a ton of stuff for Robbie,” he said with a chuckle.

“Seriously?”

“Yup. There's a bunch of hair care products, and some lingerie, and a gown she once wore to a Daughters of Charity fundraiser in the big bag.

“Jeez, she's taking this well.”

“She is.”

“And you, Tom?” I asked, as my husband sat beside me on the floor. “How are you doing with it?”

“It's a little screwed up for me still, Mona. I mean, come on, I just took my mother to Victoria's Secret to buy stuff for my little brother. You have to admit, that's a tad bit bizarre.”

“It is,” I said.

“We bought you something, too,” he whispered.

“What did you get me?”

“A teddy.”

“I love teddy bears,” I said, feeling like a kid.

“It's not that kind of teddy,” Tom whispered into my hair, and a jolt of electricity sizzled in my neck and grounded out in the vicinity of my fanny.

“Can I see it?” I asked, feeling wanton.

“Only if you model it for me later, and then let me take it off.” Tom stood up and crossed the room to where he'd left his purchases. The little pink bag looked dwarfed in his hands.

“Okay,” I whispered, as he walked toward me. I had barely seen my husband in a week, and I felt the heat of his body as he stood before me, although we were not yet touching.

“I've missed you,” he said, and I sighed.

I'd missed him, too. I still couldn't believe how much he annoyed me at times, but the scale of marital justice was tipping. I was liking him a lot more often, and hating him a lot less, and – and this was the Holy Grail – I hardly ever thought about killing him.

“I have to ask you something,” Tom said into my hair.

“Okay.”

“Will you marry me?” he asked, and I looked into his face.

“We're already married,” I whispered.

“I'd like to marry you again. Would you marry me again, Mona?” For a moment, it seemed silly, then amazingly appropriate. I wanted to marry this man again. I wanted to marry him more now than I'd wanted to the first time.

“Yes, Tom. I'd like to marry you again.”

I let him fold me into his arms, and pull me against him, and we stood kissing for a long time, feeling the contours of our bodies molded together, and the soft Berber beneath our bare feet.

Tom pulled back and looked at me. “I'm going to put up the blinds and bring the stuff back in from the porch.”

“How are you going to put up blinds?”

My husband was a good man, but we both knew he couldn't fix or build anything, and I mean
anything
. If something broke, we called somebody. If something required assembly, we didn't buy it. We owned no tools, save a few rusted discards in the garage, and although I knew there was a screwdriver in the house somewhere, if CSI ever showed up and had to dust it for prints, I was pretty sure they wouldn't find Tom's on it.

“'No tools required', the box said.”

“You read the box?”

“I did. Are you proud of me?” he asked, and I kissed his cheek. He was making an effort, and obviously, whoever made the blinds, was making an effort to cater to guys like my Tom, who didn't own tools, but could read.

“Why don't you go take a bath, and put on something sexy. I made reservations at Danny's. I know you love it, and we haven't been there in years. We are having that romantic evening, and we're doing it tonight,” he said, and I kissed him again.

I took a bath, and as I laid in the warm water, I kept wondering if Tom might join me. He didn't, and forty-five minutes later I emerged from the bathroom.

“Look at you,” Tom said, as I stepped into the living room. I had blown the dust off a sexy black dress, and was wearing the teddy underneath. I held Tom's gaze for a long moment, then let my eyes drift to his surroundings. I inhaled sharply, and he smiled.

“What happened?” I whispered. The furniture looked new, and there were matching throws, pillows, and candles lit on every surface. “God, Tom. This is beautiful.” I was in awe, and stood for a moment staring at what was once the second ugliest room in our house.

“Robbie got slip covers and everything to match. I didn't want you to see it until it was done. I wanted it to be beautiful. For you.”

Tom's voice was so soft, and there was so much love in his eyes, for a moment I couldn't move. We were doing more than rebuilding a home. We were rebuilding
us,
rekindling the most ideal love two people could ever hope to find.

He handed me a glass of wine and had poured a Ginger Ale for himself. “One glass, and no throwing up on the carpet,” he ordered, as he touched his glass to mine. “I'm gonna take a shower, and I'll be out before you notice I'm gone.”

He was out in ten minutes, as promised. He looked incredibly handsome, and was wearing some things I'd never seen. “Mom bought this for me,” he said. The last thing she'd bought my husband was the ridiculous Halloween tie. Evidently her taste was improving. “The jeans were a hundred bucks. Can you believe that?”

“Turn around, please,” I said, and he did. “Worth every penny.”

A few minutes later, we were on our way. Tom backed out through a veritable crow-filled snow globe, and suddenly stopped the Jeep.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“I was wondering if we should take the floodlights out and leave them here,” he said.

“You have floodlights?”

“
Yeah. They belong to a friend of my mother's. I'm not sure how much more of this I can stand, Mona. The CD company said two days for that CD, and it's still not here. And, worse yet, Robbie wants to do the roof when he gets back. He can't work in these conditions.”

“I agree,” I said, as a softball-size glob of bird goo landed in the middle of the windshield. We laughed, but in truth, there was nothing funny about our ongoing predicament.

We drove the thirty minutes to Danny's with the floodlights rattling around in the back. It was retro Thursday night, and we turned up the radio loud enough so we only heard the clamor if Tom hit a pothole. He sang along, and I sat sideways in the passenger seat, watching him.

Tom made a hairpin turn up a long hill, and I recognized the entrance to Danny's. My stomach growled in anticipation, giving birth to a brief garlic knot fantasy in the hunger section of my gray matter.

We crested the top of the hill and landed in a vacant lot. “What do you know about that,” I said. “Danny's is gone.”

“Looks it, doesn't it,” Tom replied, not sounding surprised.

“I wonder what happened to it,” I said.

“It burned down two years ago,” my husband explained, and I just stared at him.

“You brought me to a vacant lot?” I asked, and he chuckled.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“This is where I brought you to ask you to marry me,” Tom said, and I arched a brow.

“You proposed in Shop Rite,” I reminded him.

“I know. I brought you here two weeks before that. I wasn't sure you'd say yes, so I lost my nerve.”

“And you recovered your nerve in the produce section?”

“
Yeah. I screwed up the first time. I wanted to try again,” he said, handing me a worn, velvet box. “This is for you.”

I opened the box and gasped. It was the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen. The setting was dated, but the ring looked new.

“
It's incredible, Tom.”

“
My mom gave it to me today. It belonged to my great grandmother, Helen. When Helen was just a young girl, she was in love with a boy named Frederick. He gave her this ring before he went off to war, but she told him she wouldn't wear it until he came back. He never did,” Tom explained, reaching for my hand.

“
That's heartbreaking,” I said, feeling an immense sadness for a woman I'd never known.

“
It is. She never stopped loving him.”

“
But, she married your great grandfather,” I said.

“
She did, and she loved him, but not the way she loved Frederick.”

I sat quietly as tears slid down my face. “And you want me to have this?” I asked, and Tom leaned over to kiss my cheek.

“
This ring bound them together forever. You're my Frederick,” he said, and I stifled a sob.

I put the ring back into the box and handed it to Tom. He inhaled sharply. “I want you to keep this until we renew our wedding vows. I want you to give it to me that day.”

“
Okay,” he whispered, and I laid my head on his shoulder. The night had grown dark and the lights of Philadelphia twinkled in the far-off distance. From our vantage point we could see for miles.

I sat quietly for as long as I could. “Tom?” I whispered.

“
Hmm?”

“
I'm starving,” I said, and I could almost hear him smile in the dark.

“
We'll have dinner in a little bit. I brought a snack.”

“
It's not Fudge Rounds, is it?”

“
Nope.” He withdrew a small bag from the floor behind my seat. He pulled out a box of Pop Tarts and two bottles of Yoo Hoo. “Remember this?”

“
Our first meal together,” I said.

“
I never imagined you'd show up at the bar that night, Mona. And, I certainly never thought you'd come back to my apartment.”

“
You invited me to come for breakfast.”

“
I know, and my roommates were such pigs, we didn't have any eggs or bread.”

“
You had Pop Tarts, and Yoo Hoo.”

“
I did. Would you like one?” he asked, and I took the pastry he held.

“
Cheers,” I said, as we gently touched our Yoo Hoo bottles together. Something pierced the darkness and I saw headlights. “Shit! Do you think it's the cops?”

“
No,” Tom said calmly.

The car grew closer and it sounded like it was on its deathbed. I was pretty sure it wasn't the police, which was confirmed when it pulled alongside us. The driver's door was detailed.

Joe's Pizza. We Deliver.

“
I'll be damned,” I said.

“
I'll be right back,” Tom said. He got out, paid the driver, and the car hobbled away.

“
You had pizza delivered to a vacant lot?” I asked, once he was back in the Jeep.

“
I did, and it was no small feat. This is like ten miles outside their delivery zone.”

“
You're a strange man, Tom Siggs.”

“
I know. Stay here a minute.”

Tom hopped out of the Jeep and opened the hatch. I wasn't sure what he was doing, so I ate my Pop Tart and stayed where I was.

“
Come on,” he said, opening my door.

The evening had grown cool, and Tom had laid out a blanket, and something that looked like a round copper bowl. He piled a few pieces of wood in it, lit a match, and a fire roared to life. I sat across from him on the wool blanket.

“
This is nice,” I said softly, as he opened the pizza.

“
Pizza, Pop Tarts and Yoo Hoo.”

“
Our cholesterol is gonna go through the roof,” I remarked.

“
Would you rather go someplace else for dinner?”

“
No, Tom. This is perfect. It's real, and it's cute, and it's why I fell in love with you the first time. This is the stuff we forgot to do. This is what went wrong.”

“
Let's not talk about what went wrong. Not tonight.”