Fairytales (42 page)

“Don’t count your votes until they’re hatched.”

“Come on, Papa,” the other twin said. “Douglas is running scared.”

“Maybe you don’t know this, Angie, but I remember going to bed one night, thinking Tom Dewey was President only to wake up in the morning, turn on the radio and cut myself shaving from the shock of hearing Truman was going to be the new tenant in the White House for the next four years.”

“Yea, Papa,” Vincente said, “but that was before computers. Look at the way those returns are coming in … fast…”

“Wait a minute … listen … keep quiet,” Dom said at that moment when only he and Tory were glued to the screen. There was a hush as they listened to the announcement… “And it appears that Pat Douglas is on his way down … however the speculation is that he’ll concede the race … the majority now is so great in Rossi’s favor and at this time, most of the precinct votes have been … wait, I have just been handed a note … Yes, Pat Douglas is now walking into his headquarters … we will now take you to …”

Dominic and the family sat rigidly, listening. The television switched over to a room that now projected the feeling of the city morgue where the camera zoomed in on the faces that resembled cadavers … expressionless, they watched a badly beaten Douglas mount the platform with his wife at his side. Trying desperately to hold down the anger, disappointment and tears, he stood for a moment staring at the people who had worked so diligently for him. Finally, he said, “First, I want to thank everyone who believed in me. That’s a great honor for a man to know he’s been trusted to lead … it’s also a great gift to remember. I’m going to make this very short … the greatest kind of giving … is of one’s self. If a man with five million dollars writes out a check for one hundred thousand dollars and gives it to charity, that’s not nearly as painfully benign as when a poor group of people buy a rowboat for someone who’s about to drown.” He looked at this small group and thought, Christ, this wasn’t a contest, a campaign, a fair fight, a match against wits, it was a blockbuster, a steamroller. I knew as soon as Rossi got into the race I was dead. They poured money into this election like the Russians were going to land in Burbank tomorrow. “So … Mrs. Douglas and I wish to thank you, each and everyone, for your help… I’m conceding to Mr. Rossi and in November I hope the people that have helped me will throw their weight behind him for the sake of our great party. Now … God bless you all,” he said quickly and made his exit. Losing was a very painful business.

The reaction at the Rossi home was equal to the workers at headquarters. They cheered, wept, screamed, kissed, hugged, congratulated. The phone began to ring … and ring. Dominic looked at Catherine. “Well …” he said, “remember all those strikes you talked about in Florence. Well, it didn’t turn out too bad, did it?”

And she answered, “Instead of bein’ so damned smug, Mr. Wonderful, I think a wife who wore herself out deserves a thank-you or two and maybe a kiss … ?”

“She sure as hell does, Catherine … thank you,” he said, kissing her on the cheek, then quickly on the lips. “Okay everybody, I think they want us at headquarters.”

When Dominic and his family walked in, a cheer went up. Dominic stood, trying to quiet the ovation for ten minutes with his arms raised … then he lowered them and laughed, holding his hand over the microphone and whispered something to different members of his family. Then once again he tried, but the crowd kept chanting … Rossi for president … Rossi for governor … Rossi for … the band struck up “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” … finally the crowd quieted down and Dominic addressed them. “This has been said so many times before that I wish, I wish I were eloquent enough to come up with something different, but I can’t. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He looked out over the crowd and saw the mayor smiling broadly. The men’s eyes met. There was genuine gratitude in Dominic’s face. “Come on up, Mr. Mayor.” The mayor moved through the crowd and took his place alongside Dominic. They embraced, then locked hands in a victory sign. “Your complete dedication to the party is unmatched,” Dominic went on. “But the thing that especially touches me is that you took a chance on a man who until a few short months ago was an unknown quantity to most of you … and that leaves me with an awesome responsibility to justify your beliefs in me and never to betray the trust in the promises I have made.” The applauding and whistling began once again, then died slowly away. “However,” Dominic continued, “we’re not home free yet … there’s another harder task in the months before us until November which requires the same enthusiasm and dedication you have displayed in the primaries. When I go to Sacramento I promise you will have the greatest support this magnificent city has ever had. I’m going to listen to what it is that
you
want. With your help, let us work toward making our dreams reality.”

Dominic put his arm around Catherine as she smiled. The children gathered around them and waved as the crowd responded. Catherine, still smiling, knew in her heart, which wept, that she had won—and lost—her bet on a dark horse … she had lost him to the crowd … They were replacing Victoria Lang.

T
HE NEXT FOUR YEARS
found the checks and balances of their lives swaying decisively in Dominic’s favor. Nobody had to be a political analyst to know after the tributes paid him the night of the primary he would be elected. And a damned good state senator he was, some said, and a damned bad one, others said, but good or bad nobody tried harder to do a good job and along the way to build a prestigious name for himself in the party. Of course having been an attorney of some international repute had scarcely left him a nonentity. At times some of the Rossi staff complained, knowing he was too big for the job and the effort he put forth was far and above the title. But his son Dom kept insisting it was only a launching pad for Papa. The Rossis brought to the hardly exalted office of state senator a kind of charisma the Kennedys brought to the White House. There was an elegance about them, even a glamor. But it also meant they lived in a glass house, because of the very uniqueness of the situation. They’d become public property. All privacy was gone, and Catherine was suddenly pushed into a position she thought she wanted and yet was overwhelmed by. She knew when Dominic won their lives would change … but as she looked back, in all honesty she had not expected the kind of critical exposure not only Dominic was getting but that she was subjected to as well. Wherever she went, people stopped her as though she were a celebrity. She couldn’t even find privacy at the beauty salon without putting up with a million questions. Everything she said was quoted, most times inaccurately. The morning paper often had some juicy little tidbit about her, which hurt her. The way she furnished her home was criticized, and the criticism extended even to Dominic’s office, which she had furnished elaborately, but Dominic’s offices had always been elaborate … why should they be different in Sacramento? She wasn’t trying to show off. She became more and more camera shy, more and more withdrawn, as if she would make them all disappear. She hardly belonged to herself. It was taken for granted she would appear with her husband. A thing he not only expected, but insisted on and for awhile, in spite of her dislike, she tried to do her duty, especially since the children more than once gave her to understand that she was not helping Papa the way she should. But she had to back away … restore her spirits, so she retreated to the Farm. But after a week, she would return to the same situation.

Nothing had really changed, even though the past few years had brought their changes. Dom and Tish were the parents of four sons. Tory had two little girls, and Joanna was expecting again. Gina Maria and Sergio had married and she was ecstatically expecting
her
second child. Sergio was more than an ideal and loving husband as well as a great success in his travel agency business … Tony had married Pam McCormack… Angie, now the father of one, had married a Swedish girl he’d met at college … and Roberto was living with a Japanese girl in a garret in North Beach … which left only Vincente at home, and soon he would be leaving to travel in Europe. He was as uninterested in politics and law as Roberto. So where did this leave Catherine? In left field. Dominic traveled even more now than he had in his private practice. Always going off to one place or another … especially Washington, D.C. Always tryin’ to meet the
right
people. She’d said in no uncertain terms, “I thought you were supposed to be a state senator, not running the country.” You’d think by now she’d know better than to go up against Dominic, especially now that he’d become a public figure. “I don’t see any of the other state senators knockin’ themselves out like you do,” she said. “I don’t know about them …” he said, “but I’m going to do anything and everything I can to serve my constituents.” Who was he kiddin’… She had gone along with him in the beginning, but the Washington scene was just a thorn in her side. She also found political wives as ambitious as their husbands, which made her feel not only remiss but inadequate …
they
knew all the answers. They seemed to say all the right things at the right times and she seemed to say all the wrong things at the wrong times. It wasn’t her intention to create any dissension, but somehow she always seemed to be a source of embarrassment. At a diplomatic affair given at the British embassy one evening, she wandered around while Dominic was off in some corner with a group of men discussing whatever the hell he discussed. She stood off by herself with a champagne glass … For want of a little human contact, she spoke to a gorgeously gowned woman also standing alone momentarily.

“My name is Catherine Rossi.”

The lady replied as though the queen was deigning to address a commoner. “Vanessa Baden-Powell …”

“Oh … unusual name.”

The lady made no comment. At that point Catherine knew she should say some profound things, such as … ‘Well, it’s been nice meeting you,’ but the silence was so awkward that she said, “Were you born here? … I mean are you an American?”

“Oh, dear me, no … I was born abroad.”

The lady was such a goddamned snob, Catherine couldn’t resist.
“You sure were,”
she said, and quickly walked away.

Well, apparently the gorgeously dressed lady felt enormously offended and told whoever one tells about such things and the next morning in the Washington newspaper’s gossip column, a small portion was devoted to the remark mentioning the outspoken Mrs. Rossi. It was the first time she’d made the Washington
Post.
She was getting up in the world, only Dominic didn’t think it was so funny and said so. In no uncertain terms.

“Damn it, Catherine, you can’t go around insulting people.”

“Insulting
… what should I have done … stand there like a dummy while she was puttin’ on all those phony airs? I’ll tell you one thing I’m not, for all the faults you find, I’m not—”

“You’re not a diplomat, that I’ll tell you, and if you want to get along—”

“I don’t give a crap about gettin’ along with a bunch of phony stuffed shirts and as far as I’m concerned, you know what you can do with all your diplomats … you can shove it… I’m gettin’ the hell out of this city.”

Upon arriving home without Dominic, she called her mother. “Mama, I really don’t know how I can go on like this. I said one damned silly little thing and you’d think I bombed the Pentagon. My life is more lonely now than at any other time and if anyone wants to write a song about loneliness, I can give them the lyrics. I’m disgusted and fed up with the pressures, the cocktail parties I’m always supposed to give and go to … I mean, what for? So Dominic can have his fun and games? What the hell am I gettin’ out of it but one great big fat headache.” She took a breather, then went on, “And what the hell does Dominic need it for? I ask you … don’t answer. I’ll tell you, he eats it up. All the power … the swoonin’ over him by the ladies like he was some kind of a god … in fact, at times, I think he feels he is … and I’m left out like excess baggage. I’ve got to laugh when people tell me how lucky I am to be married to someone like the great Mr. Rossi … lucky! Hell, I’d like to see how they’d like bein’ used as an ornament. He needs an official hostess? Let him hire a pro. My house has turned into Grand Central Station … and I can’t find one little tiny place in this great big universe where I fit. Now, you’re a smart lady … tell me, Mama, where do I go from here?”

“Catherine, I can’t argue. That’s difficult, but if you recall, I once mentioned you ought to involve yourself in something worthwhile?”

“I remember, Mama, but that was before he himself decided to get into the deep blue sea and swim upstream. How can I do anything when I’m always at his beck and call?”

“Well, from what you said, Dominic’s not home so much … you could do things while he’s away, couldn’t you?”

Catherine thought for a long, lone moment and the embryo of an idea was beginning to take shape. “Okay, Mama, I’m gonna take your suggestion … yes, sir, I’m gonna do somethin’ with my life to fill the gap.”

But what Mama had in mind to occupy Catherine was far from what Catherine had in mind. She took the Ferrari out of the garage and drove downtown, parked in Union Square garage, then stood across the street from a building they owned on Post Street and looked at one of the stores that was occupied but whose lease had fortunately expired. In that moment, she had made the decision … she was going to open the most exclusive, most expensive … most fabulous boutique in San Francisco. Why not… she wasn’t the first political wife to have a business … what about Mrs. Javits … Mrs. McCarthy? … and then there’s—oh, come on, Catherine, you don’t have to justify what you’re doin’. It would make her feel important, using her maiden name,
CATHERINE POSATA
, standing out like a neon sign. She was going to be a someone with an identity of her own, damn it. In fact, she might even call herself Ms. … But most important, it would give her the reason not to be so available to accompany Dominic on his safari through the jungles of politicking which he was about to begin for a second term. Yes, sir, she was going to take Mama’s advice in spite of the consequences. She was ready for battle.