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INTERLUDE

Summer 1982

Frank Sinatra sang “My Way” on a juke box somewhere. The young couple was seated at a small table in the center of the room. It was still early so the restaurant was half empty. The waiter, who was well into his fifties and wore a gigantic white apron, brought over a bottle of Valpolicella and a single glass.

“We need two glasses.”

“I’ll need to see the young lady’s ID.”

She had long black hair which she wore parted down the middle and ironed. She flipped one side over her shoulder and set her purse on her lap. Carefully opening the purse, her nails were quite long and painted red, she took out her wallet saying, “It’s my twenty-first birthday. Legal at last.”

“And your boyfriend brought you out for dinner. What a nice fellow.”

“Husband,” she said flatly while handing the waiter her license.

After glancing at it, the waiter said, “I’ll get you a glass.”

“Can I get a martini? Straight up with a lemon twist. And a glass.”

“Of course. Gin or vodka?”

The girl blushed as her husband said, “Smirnoff.” When the waiter was gone, she carefully opened her cloth napkin and set it on her lap. “When I was a little girl I’d hear my parents order martinis. I thought they’d be sweet, like a dessert. Then my father let me try one. It wasn’t sweet. But I liked it anyway.”

“Go easy. I’ve only got seventy bucks.”

“Don’t worry, Dominick. I’ve got money.”

That was a humiliating thought. His wife paying for her own birthday dinner. And… he didn’t know where the money had come from. He gave her an allowance, but she always seemed to spend more than he’d given her and always had cash on hand. He assumed the extra money came from her family, but he didn’t dare think about it much.

“Can I have my present?”

“You don’t want to wait until dessert?”

“No. I want it now.”

From the house to the car to the restaurant, he’d kept the wrapped box hidden in his folded coat. He’d bought her a scarf, silk, colorful and large. It had cost almost thirty dollars—more than they could afford. But he knew she’d love it, it was mostly purple.

When he slipped the box out from its hiding place, she said, “That’s too big.”

“You haven’t opened it yet.”

“It’s not what I wanted.”

He sighed. “I know what you wanted, Joanne, but I’m not working. I have to pay the rent, we have to eat.”

“We’ve been married more than three years. I think I deserve an engagement ring.”

“I didn’t say you don’t deserve it. I said I can’t afford it.”

“This isn’t what I wanted.”

“Open it. You might like it anyway.”

“I didn’t mean the cruddy present. I meant this .”

“Maybe it’s not what I wanted either. But it’s what we have.”

“You think I should have gotten rid of him.”

“I didn’t say that. When did I say that? I love the kid.”

“If you really loved the kid you’d try harder to make me happy.”

He struggled with the sense of that for a moment, then he asked a question that had been bothering him for a long time. “Why did you fight so hard to have him? Most of the time it seems like you don’t want him around.”

There wasn’t time to answer. The waiter was back with her martini and an empty glass for wine. When he asked if they were ready to order Dominick said they’d wait.

“But bring us a shrimp cocktail,” Joanne added.

“Of course,” the waiter said before drifting off.

Dominick had been watching his wife’s neck. Beneath the collar of her lavender top there was a flash of gold. It had been distracting him since they got into the car. It looked like it was real gold. Not that he had much experience, but you didn’t have to be a jeweler to recognize quality.

“Where’d you get the chain?”

“Bought it.”

“Let me see it.”

“I said I bought it.”

“Yeah, so let me see it.”

She pulled it over the collar of her blouse. It said JOANNE in script.

“Somebody gave that to you.”

“No. I bought it.”

“You didn’t buy it.”

“Okay. Fine. I stole it. It’s not hard.”

“You’re shoplifting? You’ve got a baby, you can’t get yourself arrested!”

“I didn’t get arrested. I told you, it’s not hard.”

“You could have gotten arrested.”

“I wanted it so I took it. What’s the big deal?”

“Are you going to teach our son to steal?”

“I’m going to teach him how to get what he wants.”