A Promised Fate (22 page)

“Max found him trapped under our deck. He rescued the
poor kitty all by himself. It’s kind of sweet actually…”

“Ava, let’s get real; you don’t even like animals and
I am seriously allergic to most of them. Especially cats. That
animal cannot be in our house.”

Meanwhile, Max had taken the kitten from the basket
and had it curled around his neck like a scarf.

“Ah! Max, no!” I heard myself shriek, sounding, even
to myself, a lot like a girl terrified by a spider.

“You never told me you were allergic.”

“Deathly,” I assured her, indulging in a bit of
overstatement.

“What was I
supposed
to do, Ari?” her teeth
clamped around her bottom lip. “Max has already named it. He wants
to call it Fluffy Kitty.”

“No! Not a name!
Never
name them!” My
fingers raked through my dripping wet hair and I pulled at the ends
with clenched fists.
“Just tell me that
you didn’t feed it. You didn’t give it any food, right?”

Ava shrank back and gave me a half frown, half smile.
“He was hungry…”

“Ava! You cannot be serious right
now! We have to go or we'll be late to the club and we cannot keep
the cat for a second longer. If you feed them, they never leave,” I
yelled, and at my words, her half smile turned to a full
frown.
“Max, Buddy, the kitty -- he can’t
stay here. I'm sorry.”

I peeled the kitten from Max’s
probably too tight grip before he could bond with it any more than
he already had. Tiny, razor-sharp claws dug into my bare skin as
the animal tried to scale my torso and nuzzle my neck. Itchy cat
hair stuck and matted itself to my dampened skin. I threw open the
back door and shut it behind me. From the kitchen window, the sound
of Max doing his best wailing sliced through the air. I carried the
cat down the path, away from our house, ripped its claws from my
bloody flesh and dropped it discreetly behind a bush in the
neighbor’s yard, hoping
they
would find it and take care of it.

“I cannot believe you just did that,” Ava said after
I got back into the house. Her arms were crossed tightly over her
chest and Max was still screaming. His face was blotchy red and wet
from rolling tears. Then the sneezes started, with itchy nose and
watery, inflamed eyes close behind.

“We need to never do that again,” I said, and
sneezed. Max bellowed more loudly and called out for his “fluffy
kitty.”

Feeling sorry and a bit like the jerk Ava had said I
was, I bent down to Max’s level and tried to talk calmly with him,
but Max kept screaming. I saw with my customary astuteness that
talking rationally with a three year old after having just dumped
his new best friend behind a bush was out of the question. I
sneezed again and then again. Fur was everywhere and the closer I
got to angry, the more I sneezed. The sneezing continued and got
worse, my nose and eyes were raw from my constant rubbing. I took
the laundry basket filled with kitty blankets and fur and tossed it
out on the front lawn and then threw Max, with cat hair covering
his clothes, over my shoulder and ran with him up the stairs, all
while he continued to scream like wild. Throwing open the shower
door, I hopped with him into a cool water spray, where I rinsed us
both off, freeing our skin from dander and allergens. He screamed
even harder. And even harder still when I dried him off and yanked
on clean clothes.

“We are going to be late. Let’s go.” I hollered at
Ava but she didn’t make a move towards the door. My hand wrapped
around her elbow to lead her to the doorway. Then I sneezed and
then sneezed again. “Did you touch it?” I sneezed again.

“Yeah…”

I sneezed again. “Go shower … now! Wash your hair,
too! Hurry up.”

“We won’t have time for all that.”

“We have time if you do it now! Hurry.”

“
Ugh
!”

“Ugh my ass! This sucks! Cats suck!” I hollered at
Ava as she walked slowly off to the shower. “Baby, hurry, please!
We have to go!”

She tossed her long, wavy hair over her shoulder with
the flick of her wrist.

“Max?” I sat beside him and sunk into the soft
cushions.

“Grrrr.” He shoved his face into a throw pillow,
muffling the angry noise.

“Max, sweet boy … I am sorry.” I rubbed his back and
he dug his big toe into my leg and tried to push me away from him.
Then, I really made him mad by tickling the bottom of his foot. He
laughed despite his anger, then shoved his other big toe into my
leg even harder and then made the angry growl again.

Not sure what to do or how to make him happy, I sat
with Max and allowed him to thrust his toe into my leg, causing a
small bruise for me and some slight satisfaction for him. Ava
walked down the stairs in record time, clean and cat-hair free, but
she had traded her pretty, navy eyelet dress and chic flats in for
yoga pants, a ribbed tank top and bare feet. Her hair was soaking
and still ratty with wild tangles. “What are you doing? We need to
go now. Come on and change. Seriously, Ava!”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“But I made reservations.”

“Your assistant made reservations.”

“So? What difference does that make?”

“Ari, I am in no mood to go to that snooty Yacht club
with you.”

“Why? Because of the cat? I am allergic, I can’t help
it! C’mon.”

“No, not because of that silly cat.”

“Then why?”

“You are acting like a jerk and you never tell me
anything. I had no idea you had allergies…”

“You’re kidding me right? I tell
you everything!” My fingers ripped through my half-dry, uncombed,
messy hair. “
You’re
the one keeping something, Ava. Let’s get real. You and I
both know that whoever broke into our house and ripped our lives to
pieces didn’t pick us out by accident. We know it was because of
you… because of
who you
are
. You are having nightmares and crying
as if you have lost everything you love and you won’t tell me
anything about what frightens you. You're having anxiety attacks
again and you won’t tell me what the trigger is. Christ, you were
at Phillips’ office for two hours! You know someone is after you.
So just tell me already. Just come clean, get it out! Tell me what
we have to do to keep us safe again. Whatever it is, I’ll do. Just
please tell me. I hate it when you lie!”

A twinge of guilt scratched at the back of my mind
with a distant flicker of my own frightening nightmares.

“I’m
not
lying!”

“There you go again. One lie after another. ”

“You think I’m lying? You’re the one keeping secrets,
Ari.”

My stomach churned. “Stop it, Ava. Now.”

“No. I won’t stop. Tell me, Ari. Tell me who you are.
I deserve to know.”

“Who I am does not matter. This is about you. Not
me.” I felt dizzy.

She stared at me, defiantly and an overwhelming surge
of panic coursed in my bloodstream.

My jaw tightened. I only stood there and stared back
at her with feelings of growing anger, guilt and fear. Neither of
us was going to talk. My eyes shot for the door and then back at
her and I walked away. I could not,
would not
, have this
talk. The
who am I
garbage that was supposed to define me.
And so, I waved a lazy, asshole, see ya later wave in the air and
left the two of them, Max with tears streaking his round, baby boy
cheeks.

A coward, I slipped onto the beach and I walked up
the shore, straight to Julia.

****

“Hey you.” I stood anxiously on the doorstep in a
sort of uncomfortable fidget. I didn’t know what to do with my
hands so I shoved them deep into my pockets.

“Hey
you
!” Her smile was warm and tension
eased from my coiled shoulder muscles.

“Would you like to go to dinner with me?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“I would love to!”

“Good.”

We took Julia's car and rode in silence the few
blocks down the harbor road to the Yacht club. Seemingly endless
rows of sailboats, catamarans, yachts and fishing vessels floated
on top of the sparkling water. Julia walked beside me up the path
and into the dining house.

“I have a reservation under Alexander,” I said to the
host, who stood stiffly at a mahogany podium and peered down at an
open book sketched in penciled-in names and times.

“Your reservation was for six thirty.” He scowled up
at me.

“Yeah, I know. We're only twenty minutes late. Is
there anything still available?”

“This way,” he deigned to respond and I marveled at
his ability to establish me as the supplicant and himself as lord
of the manor. He left his post at the pedestal and opened the door
leading to a crowded dining space.

Looking in at the room, I realized immediately that
the Yacht club was the wrong place to have brought Julia. I had
joined the member’s-only club to ensure privacy for Ava and Max.
The diners, and there were many, were all faces I knew, people I
had grown up with and friends of my parents who were eager to say
hello. Julia and I weaved closely together, her hip and shoulder
softly nudging mine, through tightly packed tables. I failed
miserably at not making eye contact.

“Ari, how nice to see you!”

“Mr. Tregio, Mrs. Tregio.” I offered a nod and half
smile and then skirted past them before they could stop me to talk
any further.

“Ari, sweetheart!” My mother’s nosey church friend
grabbed hold of my hand when I walked by and she clamped on to me
with her old, cold and bony fingers.

“Hello, Ms. Keene.”

“How’s that little boy your mother is always bragging
about?”

“He is doing fine, thank you.”

“Getting big?”

“Mmm. Bigger every day.” I have never been a fan of
small talk.

“And Ava?” She asked me but looked straight at
Julia.

“She’s getting bigger too,” I teased, and Ms. Keene
giggled like a girl. “But really, Ava is just fine, thank you. Ms.
Keene, you remember Julia.”

“Of course. Hello, dear.” She frowned.

Julia squirmed under her judgmental gaze and offered
a little wave.

“I’ll be sure to tell my mother you said hello. Have
a nice evening.”

“Try not to have too much fun.” She warned, gave my
hand one more cold squeeze and then released me.

At last, Julia and I were seated at a center table
near the windows ... like two fish in a glass bowl. The maître
d
'
placed three menus at the table, lit a
candle with an overly extravagant flourish and turned after wishing
us a lovely evening.

“I take it I wasn’t your first choice for a dinner
date,” Julia said, picking up the three menus, handing me one and
tossing the extra to the side of the table.

“I’m sorry, Jules. I’m a jerk,” unthinkingly
repeating Ava's assessment.

“Nah. I think you are sweet, Ari. Just sometimes …
yeah, you’re a real jerk.” She laughed the way my mother does and
touched her fingers gently to her mouth.

“Forgive me?”

“Always. I can never be mad at you. Especially when
you smile like that. You know that and it really isn’t fair.”

Covering my palm over my mouth I asked, “Is this any
better?”

“Not even close.” She batted her lashes. “Your real
smile is in your eyes.”

“Mmm, can’t do anything about those.” I winked and
regretted it.

She touched her lips again to hide her small
laugh.

“So what is it? What’s going on at home?”

“A stupid fight. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ok.” She let me off the hook easy. “But you know,
stupid fights are my specialty. Rory and I argued about socks this
morning.”

“Socks?”

“Don’t ask.” She batted her lashes again.

“Tell me what’s going on with you, Julia. That’s what
we need to talk about.”

“Do you think that tonight we can just be friends and
talk like old times? Can we keep some topics off limits? I could
use a break from all the heavy.”

“Yeah, I’d like that, a lot.”

“So…” she strummed her fingers on the crisp, white
linen tabletop, searching for a neutral conversation. “The fashion
show! Thank you for getting us tickets.”

“Nah, Rory did that.”

“See! I told you - you lie! You're horrible at it by
the way.”

“That bad, huh?”

“You definitely need to work at it.”

“I’ll just stick to the truth then. In Rory’s
defense, he did
try
to get tickets.”

“He’s good at trying, I’ll give him credit for that
anyway.”

We fell silent again and Julia fidgeted with the
silverware and napkin.

We were saved by our server, an older woman with
tight skin but a head full of thick gray hair who looked down at us
expectantly. Her lips were overly puffy from a recent Botox session
and she covered them with bright red lipstick. “Can I get you two
something to drink?”

“Water.”

“Water,” I nodded.

“Ok, two waters it is. Do you need some more time
with your menu?”

Julia looked up at me and I waved her on to place her
order of shrimp cocktail.

“And for you, Sir?”

“Just the water.”

“Got it.” She frowned and walked away.

“
Cha! Ari!
You know I hate eating by
myself.”

“You aren’t eating by yourself.” I said and crunched
a slender, dry and unadorned bread stick.

“You know what I mean.”

“I can’t eat right now. I just needed to get away for
a minute. You are the first person I thought of and now all I want
to do is fix things with her and…”

“And instead you are stuck here with me at this
romantic, candle-lit dinner overlooking the pier that was intended
for you, Ava and Max.”