No Ordinary Love (14 page)

Sincerely,

Chet Davis

Executive Producer,
Second Chances

She crumpled up the letter and lay back on her bed.
Well, no temporary mansion and twenty-four hot men lusting after me. I’ll bet they send that form letter to everyone who didn’t win. Chet, or whoever wrote it, certainly overused the word “good,” though. Was that an attempt to make me feel good for being a loser? I already know I am a good person. I don’t know if I deserve good things happening to me. I hope the world is a better place with me in it.

She watched rain attacking her bedroom window.

But from now on, I’ll be on the lookout for a good man.

She laughed.

I may be looking for the rest of my life.

I hope I don’t go blind. . . .

Brooklyn, New York

14

T
ony stayed in the Castle for two days and followed his somewhat “new” routine. He ate breakfast and watched
SportsCenter
with Aika. He walked Silver. He played his piano. He studied his maps.

He also crammed a toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste, a pair of socks, a pair of underwear, a T-shirt, a dozen blank notepads, four black pens, and a map book of San Francisco into a laptop case. He had never used the laptop computer inside the case, but he knew he could find someone on Driggs Street in Williamsburg to help him use it.

After Aika left for work at 8:00 AM, Tony appeared at Angelo’s office door. “I am going to Angela’s Sweet Treats and Coffee.”

Angelo nodded. “Is that the laptop I gave you two Christmases ago?”

“Yes,” Tony said.

Angelo smiled. “That’s good, Tony. Now maybe you can type your songs so I can read them. Say hello to Angela for me.”

“I will,” Tony said.

“When will you be back?” Angelo asked.

“I do not know,” Tony said.

“You have your watch?” Angelo asked.

Tony showed him his wristwatch.

“You have your phone?” Angelo asked.

Tony nodded.

“Don’t be too late,” Angelo said.

“Okay,” Tony said. “Bye, Angelo.”

“Later, dude.”

Tony gripped the laptop case firmly as he rode the G train to Williamsburg. By the time he entered Angela’s Sweet Treats and Coffee, his hands ached. He waved at Angela, who sat on a stool behind the counter.

“Hey, Tony,” Angela said. “You want some house blend?”

Tony sat in a booth and took out the laptop. “No.”

“Hey, that’s a fancy computer, Tony,” Angela said, walking over. “How about some cookies?”

“No,” Tony said. “I need you to help me buy a plane ticket to San Francisco.”

Angela smiled. “You need me to do what?”

“I need you to help me buy a plane ticket to San Francisco.” He pressed the ON button, and the laptop whirred to life.

Angela sat across from him. “Why do you want a plane ticket to San Francisco?”

“I am going to San Francisco to meet Trina Woods,” Tony said. “She is a nurse at Saint Francis Memorial Hospital in Nob Hill.”

“And how do you know her?” Angela asked.

“I do not know her yet,” Tony said. “I am going there to meet her.”

Angela started to speak several times. “Um, Tony . . .” She squinted. “Run that by me again.”

“I am going to San Francisco to meet Trina Woods,” Tony said. “I need you to help me buy a plane ticket.”

“Does . . .” She blinked. “Does your brother know about this?”

“No,” Tony said. “My brother does not know. I do not want him to know. He wants to go with me to talk to her. I must do this alone.”

“Have you ever done anything like this before?” Angela asked.

“No,” Tony said. “That is why I came here. I need your help.”

Matthew swept out of the kitchen and around the counter. “Hey, Tony. Good to see you.” He slid in next to Angela and kissed her cheek.

“Tell Matthew what you’re trying to do, Tony,” Angela said.

“I am going to San Francisco to meet Trina Woods,” Tony said. “I need you to help me buy a plane ticket.”

“Does his brother know?” Matthew asked.

“He doesn’t know,” Angela said. “Tony wants to do all this on his own. For the first time.”

Tony turned the laptop around. “Help me.”

“Don’t you think your brother should know what you’re planning to do?” Matthew asked.

“Angelo will come and tell Trina who I am so she will talk to me,” Tony said. “I do not want her to talk to me because I am famous. I want her to talk to me because I am me. I need a plane ticket.” He took out his wallet and put a credit card and a picture ID on the table. “I know I will need these.” He pulled out his toothbrush, socks, underwear, and T-shirt. “I will buy more clothes when I get there.”

Angela smiled. “You’ve really thought this out, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Tony said.

She turned to Matthew and whispered, “What do we do?”

“His brother has to be his legal guardian and probably has durable power of attorney,” Matthew whispered. “Legally, we can’t do anything.”

“I can hear you,” Tony said.

“Sorry, Tony,” Matthew said, “it’s just that we’re legally unable to help you. Your brother makes all your decisions for you, doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” Tony said. “But I want to decide. I want to go to San Francisco to meet Trina.” He pushed the laptop closer to Matthew. “I do not know how to buy a plane ticket.”

“It’s not too hard to do, Tony,” Matthew said, “but unless we talk to your brother first—”

“I’ll help you buy a plane ticket,” Angela interrupted, crawling over Matthew to leave the booth and slide next to Tony.

“Angela,” Matthew said. “We can’t.”

Angela turned the laptop around. “We can’t what?”

“We can’t help Tony escape Brooklyn,” Matthew said.

“But we’re not helping him escape,” she said, smiling at Tony. “We’re only showing him how to buy a plane ticket.”

Matthew shook his head. “That
could
be construed—”

“Hush,” Angela interrupted. “You’ll have to ignore my husband, Tony. Sometimes he thinks too much like a lawyer and not enough like a man.” She tapped a few keys. “Just connecting you to our Wi-Fi.”

“Angela,” Matthew said.

Angela widened her eyes. “
Matthew.
” She double-clicked on Internet Explorer. “Tell me more about Trina, Tony.”

“She is pretty like you with dark brown skin, dark brown eyes, and black hair,” Tony said. “Her ex-husband is a turd and an asshole. She paid for him to go to med school and then he had an affair. She needs new shoes, a new microwave, a new jacket, and a bigger bed.”

“Where did you learn all this?” Angela asked.

“On the
Second Chances
Web site,” Tony said. “If you go there, you will see her.”

Angela found the Web site. “I don’t see Trina, Tony.”

“She was there two days ago,” Tony said. He stared at Bambi Bennett. “I was right. Bambi won.”

“Maybe Trina’s on this page.” Angela clicked on a tab called “Finalists.”

Tony pointed at the screen. “There she is.”

Angela turned the laptop around. “Does
she
look familiar, Matthew?”

Matthew nodded. “She could be your sister.”

“She has Aika’s smile,” Tony said.

“She’s certainly pretty,” Angela said. “And you just plan to drop in on her and meet her.”

“Yes,” Tony said. “I want to talk to her.”

“You’re playing with fire, Angela,” Matthew said.

Angela reached her hand across the table and squeezed Matthew’s arm. “You dropped in on me, didn’t you? Where’s your sense of romance?”

“I still have it,” Matthew said, “but that was different.”

“Tony,” Angela said, “that man who is so worried I’ll break some archaic law only he knows about showed up at this shop at six AM one Sunday morning after a date from hell and had some of my coffee a few years ago, and he has been with me ever since.”

“But Angela,” Matthew said. “We can’t be playing matchmaker with a man who is in someone else’s
legal
care.”

“Who said anything about matchmaking?” Angela said. “We’re only showing an old friend how to buy a plane ticket.”

“And get a hotel reservation,” Tony said. “A hotel near Saint Francis Memorial Hospital.”

“Legally,
Angela,
we should be consulting with his caregiver,” Matthew said.

“And legally,
Matthew,
Tony is a grown man who should be able to make his own decisions,” Angela said. She clicked a few keys. “I think we need to buy a first-class plane ticket, don’t you, Tony?”

“I do not know,” Tony said.

“First class is nice,” Angela said. “Or so I hear. You get a bigger seat, and you get to sit near the front of the plane near the pilot.”

“I want first class,” Tony said.

“We could be putting Tony in danger, Angela,” Matthew said.

“So we’ll tell his brother about it,” Angela said. “Relax.”

“I do not want my brother to know,” Tony said.

Angela put her hand on Tony’s thigh. “We have to tell him eventually but not right away, okay? How long do you think it will take you to find Trina?”

“One day,” Tony said. “I will see her at the hospital.”

“So we’ll wait a day before informing your brother,” Angela said. She stared at Matthew. “Any objections, counselor?”

Matthew sighed. “A lot can go wrong in twenty-four hours, Angela.”

“And a lot can go right, too,” Angela said.

“His brother is going to be pissed,” Matthew said.

“Yes,” Tony said. “Angelo will be angry with me.”

“But you’re not scared of your brother, are you?” Angela asked.

“No,” Tony said. “I am not scared of Angelo. I am used to him being angry with me.”

“Tony, you are a man who knows what he wants and will do anything to get it,” Angela said. “You have to respect that, Matthew.”

“I do, but . . .” Matthew sighed. “At least let the airline know about his condition.”

“I will.” Angela laughed. “We’re going to do this, aren’t we?”

Matthew slid out of the booth. “Do what? I didn’t see anyone ordering plane tickets. Why would anyone order plane tickets to San Francisco from a coffee shop in Brooklyn?” He smiled. “Speaking of coffee, anyone want some coffee?”

“I want root beer,” Tony said.

“Me, too,” Angela said. She Googled “JFK to San Francisco flights” and watched the screen fill up with airlines and times. “So many choices,” Angela said. “This is so much fun, Tony.”

Using Tony’s credit card, Angela purchased a one-way, nonstop first-class ticket on American Airlines leaving JFK at 5:45 PM. Under special instructions, she typed: “I have Asperger’s syndrome and will need special assistance.”

“What is ‘special assistance’?” Tony asked.

“They’ll take good care of you, Tony,” Angela said. “Oh.” She added: “Please have root beer and cookies available on the flight.”

“I can drink root beer and eat cookies on the plane,” Tony said.

“Yes,” Angela said. “You can listen to music, and you might even get to watch a movie.”

“I will get to San Francisco today.”

“Right,” Angela said. “You will get into San Francisco around ten o’clock tonight, and you can search for Trina tomorrow morning.”

“Yes,” Tony said. “Tomorrow morning.”

“You’ll have to get to the airport by three,” Angela said, “and Matthew will ride with you in the taxi.”

“I will?” Matthew asked.

“You will,” Angela said. “And you’ll also make sure he gets his ticket at the counter, you’ll make sure he gets to his gate, and you’ll make sure he gets on that airplane.”

“They won’t let me back to the gate without a ticket,” Matthew said.

“Aren’t you his lawyer?” Angela asked.

“I’m sure his brother has retained . . .” Matthew smiled. “Hmm. You’re a pretty shrewd woman.”

“Yep,” Angela said. “Tony, would you like Matthew to be your lawyer?”

“I do not know,” Tony said.

“If Matthew is your lawyer,” Angela said, “there’s a good chance he will be able to stay with you until your plane takes off.”

“I would like Matthew to be my lawyer,” Tony said.

“I will first need a retainer of some kind,” Matthew said.

Tony blinked at him. “You have straight teeth.”

“Thanks,” Matthew said. “But this kind of retainer is a payment up front to a lawyer for services to be rendered in the future.”

“Oh.” Tony handed him his credit card. “This is all I have.”

“We’ll add a dollar to your bill today,” Angela said.

Matthew laughed. “A dollar? Really?”

“You’re right,” Angela said. “Fifty cents. I’m doing all the work here. But we’ll need a contract first, won’t we? Something simple.”

Matthew wrote out a quick contract on a napkin. “This should do for now.” He turned it around to Tony.

“Sign at the bottom.”

Tony read the contract:

I, Tony Santangelo of Cobble Hill, Brooklyn,

USA, do retain the services of Matthew

McConnell, attorney-at-law, for the sum of fifty

US cents on this day, January 3.

Tony signed the contract.

“Now we need to find you a hotel close to the hospital,” Angela said. “Looks as if there are two: the Huntington, which overlooks a park, and the Fairmont, which is—whoa. That’s expensive.”

“I want the one with the park,” Tony said.

“The Huntington it is,” Angela said. “How long do you think you will be staying in San Francisco?”

“I do not know,” Tony said.

“Well, let’s make your reservation for a week, just in case,” Angela said. In the special instructions section, she typed: “I have Asperger’s syndrome. I would prefer a room facing the park.” She sat back from the laptop and held the back of Tony’s hand. “Mr. Santangelo, you are officially on your way to meet Trina.”

“Thank you,” Tony said.

“You don’t mind hanging out here for a few hours, do you?” Angela asked.