Dating da Vinci (32 page)

And I'd actually wondered that myself, but my mothers needed to be needed, so I couldn't get well too quickly.

Two hours later, the house was clean, the table set, and the food ready to be gobbled up, minus a couple of key figures. After a half-hour of trying, my mother coaxed Rachel out of my bed, into the shower, and down to the table, hair wet and sans makeup. A very pregnant Zoya arrived wearing a sexy, red fitted dress with a plunging neckline that revealed most of her swollen bosom, and Donald couldn't keep his eyes off of it. It took all of my dad's strength not to stare, too.

I asked William to fetch da Vinci for dinner, but he returned with a red face wet with tears, fogging up his glasses. The rest of us were already seated at the table, including Joel's framed photo on his plate in his usual seat—Judith's idea. We did it every Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. I'm not sure what Joel thought of his symbolic inclusion, but I could feel his energy making a sarcastic remark about it.

“What in Heavens?” my mother said, scooting her chair back.

“Thanksgiving isn't an Italian holiday,” Judith said, as if that explained everything.

William glared at me. “It's all
your
fault!” He pointed an accusing finger. “Da Vinci's not coming to dinner because of
you
!”

“This is juicy,” Rachel said, taking a gulp of her wine. “Do tell.”

Williams' tiny shoulders shook. “All we wanted was for you to be happy again, and you had to go and ruin it! Tell him you're sorry!”

I hugged my son, but he wriggled away. “Honey, I'm sorry. It's a grown-up thing.”

“Tell me what we can do to make you love da Vinci.” He looked at his older brother, who was slumped in his seat. “It didn't work, Bradley.”

“What do you mean, sweetie? Bradley, what's he talking about?”

Bradley mumbled. “It was William's idea. To get da Vinci to fall in love with you.”

The dinner guests moaned an “awww,” and I could feel my hair stand on end.

“
What?
” I looked at both boys and saw the shame on their faces. “Tell me exactly what you did.”

William continued to cry. “I told da Vinci that you liked him and that he should take you to the vineyard. And then I told him he should tell you he loved you, and I moved his things into Daddy's closet.”

“You
what
?” Judith asked.

“You
what?
” I asked, gripping his little arm. “Why would you do all that?”

“We could tell that when he was around, you weren't so sad anymore, so we thought if you fell in love and married him that we could have a whole family again.”

“Honey, da Vinci and I do care for each other. I still like him, but we're not going to get married.”

“But you're pinned now!” He stomped his foot.

“You're
what?
” Rachel asked. “As in,
fraternity
pin?”

“That's absurd,” Judith said, with a laugh.

I shot them all a warning glance to stay out of it. “So the pin was your idea, too?”

Bradley pointed to his brother, and William bobbed his head. “I thought you would think it was romantic. A pin is a promise.”

Judith and Barbara had tears in their eyes. “Come here, you.” I opened my arms, and William walked into them. “And you, too, bud,” I said to Bradley, and he joined us. I was too amazed at their compassion to be mad at them. “Even though da Vinci won't be around here as much anymore, he still wants to be your friends, okay?”

“But will you still be happy?” William asked.

“Yes, baby. Mommy is getting happier by the day. Don't I look happy?” I flashed him a big and surprisingly genuine smile. The world was a big, messed-up place, but I was happy. My joy jar was filling up with each passing hour.

William's tiny shoulders lifted. “I guess so. But I can see Oprah's point about the makeup.”

My moms laughed. “Well, she is one smart cookie.”

Judith took another sip of wine. “I propose a toast, then. To makeup and joy, however we find it,” she said.

“I'll toast to the joy part,” my father said.

Rachel reluctantly joined in. We toasted and I drank the wine, relishing the plum aftertaste, remembering that da Vinci had picked out the bottle at the vineyard, saying we should drink it on a special occasion. I had so much to be thankful for, including the awakening brought on by his arrival into my classroom and my life.

My father stood to cut the turkey. “Let's eat this bird before he catches a cold.”

I kissed my sons on the cheek. After we had begun eating, the clank of silverware and china, a familiar symphony of family togetherness, was when the doorbell rang again. I tried not to think about the ramifications of my son's confession. What did it matter now? If da Vinci had been nudged along by tiny cupids, he hadn't gone kicking and screaming. He was a willing partner. Did I mind that he may have said a few things or done a few things in the name
of keeping me on the hook a while longer? It wasn't as if he
used
me, exactly. In fact, I had used him just as much. We had leaned on each other, propped each other up, fledglings now ready to fly on our own.

The doorbell rang again, and I excused myself to answer it. Cortland stood on the porch with a pumpkin pie in his hands. I stepped outside and shut the door behind me.

“It's my mom's. It's not homemade, but don't tell your mother. She's got a rep to keep.”

“I'm sure it's delicious. But now's not a good time. Rachel's upset and da Vinci won't come for dinner and William's mad at me.”

“What would Thanksgiving be without a little dysfunction? At least your Uncle Louie didn't throw up on the new Persian rug.”

Cortland had a way of putting everything in perspective.

“Well, I can just come back later, then.”

Barbara came up behind me. “What's taking so long? Cortland! I'm so glad you could make it. Do come in.”

“Mom, I was just telling him that we got a late start.”

“Oh, we've got room.” She led him by the hand, and when Cortland saw Joel's picture on the plate at the only empty seat, he backed away. “I'll just go grab a chair from the kitchen.”

I held my breath. The crowd looked at me and then Judith, who stood and plucked the frame from the plate. “It's fine, darling. Joel wouldn't mind. In fact, I'm quite sure he would've liked you. Don't you agree, Ramona?”

Cortland held my gaze. I nodded, and he took Joel's seat. Rachel stuck her nose up in the air. I considered pulling my mother aside to tell her Rachel and Cortland had broken up, but thought it might make an even bigger scene.

While Noble and Cortland talked golf and Judith tried to convince Zoya to visit Life Church that weekend, I noticed a familiar car pulling up in front of the house.

“Daddy!” Zoe squealed.

Rachel peered outside and slammed her fist on the table, rattling the china. “Wait a minute. Is that someone in the car with him? It is! It's a woman.” She threw down her napkin and shot up from her chair.

I opened the curtain and saw Anh slinking in the front seat and Michael trying to convince her to get out. This wouldn't end well.

“We'll make room,” Noble said cheerfully. “The more the merrier, right, dear?”

“We'll do no such thing,” Rachel said, following her daughter out the door.

Anh was resting against the passenger door and Vi was still in her carseat in the back when I reached them.

Zoe rushed to hug her father, and Rachel stopped in her tracks on the sidewalk. “
You!
”

Anh glanced up sheepishly and fingered a wave to Rachel. Michael beamed, oblivious to his ex-wife's reaction. “Great. Everybody's here. But I guess introductions aren't necessary.”

Rachel spun on her heel and glared at me. “You knew all along, didn't you? Your best friend was sleeping with my husband and you didn't have the decency to tell me about it. What kind of sister are you?”

Michael took Anh's hand and stared at his ex-wife. “Would it kill you to be happy for me?”

Rachel stuck her nose into the air. “Be nice! Ha! You'll be sorry you ever crossed me! And don't even think about asking me back! I wouldn't take you back if you were the last human on earth!”

Michael smirked. “I don't think that will be a problem. Come on, let's not ruin a perfectly good holiday.”

“
Good?
What do
I
have to be thankful for? A jackass husband and a lying, conniving sister who keeps secrets behind my back? Yes, Happy Thanksgiving, indeed! While you're busy ruining my life, is
there anything else I should know about?” Rachel stared at me, then Cortland, and back again.

Cortland began to raise his hand, when I slapped it down. “No, I think that will do it for today.”

Rachel stomped back into the house. Anh got Vi out of the car seat while Michael began walking up the steps with his daughter. I stayed back and waited for Anh. “For some reason, I thought she'd take the news better.”

Anh walked in stride beside me. “Kill me now,” she muttered.

Cortland grabbed my fingers, pulling me back so we were the last in line to reach the front porch. “So Rachel broke up with me last night, just before I got the chance.”

“So I heard.”

“So have you told her you'd like to start seeing me?”

“I don't know if I'd like to start seeing you. Are all doctors this presumptuous, or is it just you?”

He put his hand on my waist, and his forearm next to my head, pushing me back against the brick of the house. “Well, I think you should know our duck house passed inspection. With flying feathers, you might say. I close tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? That's awfully soon, isn't it?”

“When you know what you want, why wait?”

“I suppose I could bake you some cookies as a housewarming gift. To welcome you to the neighborhood and all.”

“Cookies? I had something else in mind.”

“My father always said patience was a virtue.”

“British origin, right? The capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble or suffering without getting angry or upset. Yeah, I pretty much suck at that.”

“What are you, some kind of walking dictionary?”

“No, but I'm pretty good at defining what I want. Getting it is the tough part.”

Our eyes lingered, and I touched his cheek as he leaned in closer. “We better get inside,” I said, my hand pressed against his chest.

Cortland stepped back. “I'm going to take off. I've got Lindsey for the weekend. She's going to help me move in.”

“Okay, then. I'll see you around.”

Cortland began walking down the sidewalk, when he turned back. “You know when you said that I put people to sleep for a living?”

“I recall something of the sort.”

“Well, just remember that I wake them up, too.”

“
Life without love is like a tree without blossoms or fruit.
”

—Kahlil Gibran

ACCORDING TO PSYCHOLOGISTS, 95 percent of people think about sex at least once a day. I belonged squarely within the freakish 5 percent that didn't. Until da Vinci. After that, I thought about sex a dozen times a day—nothing compared to a man, but often for a woman. As I finished up my dissertation to hand in to my professor, I realized I hadn't been missing the physical act of sex. Sure, I'd been missing pleasure, but what I'd missed most was the golden triangle of sex, love and communication. I missed a
real-thing
relationship. I thought After, I'd never be real with anyone again, settling within the uncomfortable typecast of a melancholy widow. It was only after I stepped back into the world of the living again that I could consider loving again.

Author Josh McDowell claims that “I love you” can be interpreted several different ways. One meaning is “I love you
if
,” based on what the other person
does.
My sister could love Cortland
if
he lived in a mansion with a heated pool. Another meaning is “I love you
because
,” based on what the other person
is:
attractive, strong, intelligent
.
Da Vinci believed he loved me
because
I was kind to him in a strange new world.
Because
I took him in.
Because
I made him feel safe and warm and wanted.

I wondered if Joel loved Monica solely
because
she was beautiful, but a part of me believed Joel had loved Monica the third way—the
same way he'd loved me: unconditionally. She was the one who had betrayed him, had loved him because he was the safe choice, the opposite of her equal partner Jonathon. Perhaps Joel loved her despite her being beautiful. For so long I had wanted Joel to love me more, better, longer, deeper, but after all that's happened, I knew how one could love differently and have it mean as much as the other.

The best and hardest love to achieve is unconditional.
I love you, period.
I love you when you gain twenty pounds, make a mess around the house, and grow black hairs from your moles. I don't just love you until someone better comes along. I love you
forever.

I knew I had this kind of love with Joel. He didn't just love me until Monica was ready to return to him. He never would've jeopardized what we had. I was ashamed I had thought that he would leave me so easily.

I wanted to release Monica of her guilt before Christmas. Whatever she had to get off of her chest, I was ready and willing to listen. It was the second week of December, the first snowfall salting the earth as I drove to her office to meet her. She was busy as usual, squeezing me in between two appointments. My dissertation was tucked neatly in my portfolio, ready to hand over to the professor after I met with Monica.

I entered the building, visualizing the lines Joel had sketched in creating his work of art. Most architects use computers now, but Joel had been old school. He loved nothing more than his drafting table and a freshly sharpened pencil. I could feel Joel's presence with me as I made my way through the marble corridor to the stainless steel elevator. Monica Blevins, top floor. Of course. Corner office. Nothing but the best.

Her assistant showed me into her office where she was bent over paperwork, black framed glasses on her pretty face, lips as red as beets. She smiled upon seeing me and rose to greet me. “Thanks so much for coming,” she said warmly. “I'm sorry we have to meet in a stuffy
law office.” I admired the exquisite décor and breathtaking view from her floor-to-ceiling window—nothing stuffy about it. I wondered if Joel had known which office would be Monica's, if he had spec'ed in special accommodations for her. It seemed like the sort of thing he would do.