A Widow Redefined (17 page)

“Amy. You look absolutely gorgeous!” she said.

“Thanks.”

“I knew you’d choose that one. It compliments your blonde hair.”

I smiled. That was exactly why I had picked it over the others.

I whispered to her. “What do I do now?”

A devilish expression overtook her facial features—a bad girl face—then she said, “Follow me.”

I walked behind Sabrina, momentarily wishing that I could turn back, but then it was too late. She was introducing me to someone.

“Kathy, this is Amy,” she said to a larger, red-headed woman. “She’s Irish, like you. You two will adore each other.”

“Hello,” Kathy said, with a heavy Gaelic accent. “Nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” I said, then became terrified as I watched Sabrina prance away into the milling crowd.

Henry offered me a martini, something I don’t usually drink, but I took it from him, happily. At least I had something to hold onto.

Somehow I managed to have a conversation with a boisterous woman I could barely understand. All while holding a cocktail, and sipping without spilling. Sabrina was right. I did like Kathy, a computer consultant who handled all things technical for the Bergman Collection. I could only catch every third word she spoke, and I had to piece sentences together, but I liked her.

My drive up north had been long, and after standing a while and having a drink, I needed to use the restroom. I excused myself and started in the already familiar direction.

On my way there, I noticed an attractive Hispanic man standing in a corner, staring at me. I quickly turned my eyes away.

In the bathroom, I rediscovered what a nuisance control-top nylons were. Taking them on and off was like wrestling a tiger, for God’s sake. I broke a sweat doing it, and when I checked my face in the mirror, I noticed my cheeks were pink. I didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or the hosiery struggle. Either way, I was ready to go home.

I opened the door, and no sooner than I turned the corner, Sabrina appeared.

“There you are,” she said. “There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

I followed obediently, like a circus animal in a travelling show. We walked past a group of people, all of whom laughed at the same time, startling me.

“Amy,” Sabrina said, getting my attention away from the rowdy guests, “This is my friend, Miguel.”

It was him. The handsome Hispanic man I’d intentionally broken eye contact with. He extended his hand and I shook it. Instant tension.

Then Sabrina scampered off like a little mouse. Damn her! I thought.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Miguel said. He had an accent, but it was much easier to understand than Kathy’s. His face was kind. It had an honest quality to it.

“Nice to meet you too,” I said, feeling terribly uncomfortable.

Miguel had dark hair and hazel green eyes. He wasn’t overly tall, but still as tall as me with heels on. He smiled. That’s when I noticed his teeth were perfectly white and straight. He exuded genuine warmth… and it made me want to run away as fast as I possibly could.

“So,” he began, “how do you know Ms. Bergman?”

It was too weird to explain.

“She used to do business with my husband,” I said.

Miguel looked at my hand and saw my wedding ring. “Ah, you are married,” he said, sounding disappointed.

“I
was
married,” I corrected him. “He passed away a few years ago.”

I fidgeted with my hands, and then dropped them to my sides. People often asked me why I still wore the ring. I hoped I wouldn’t have to explain it now, and to a stranger.

“I’m so sorry,” he replied.

We stood there for a few moments, then I figured it was my turn to say something.

“How about you? How do you know Sabrina?” I asked.

“I’m her lawyer.”

Lawyer? Aren’t lawyers supposed to look threatening and aggressive? This man seemed none of those things. He seemed like a regular guy.

For lack of a better follow-up comment, I asked, “What do you help her with?”

Miguel shrugged. “I do a little bit of everything. I mainly help with international business, but if personal matters arise, I handle that, too.”

I was surprised. He was kind of a hot shot without being full of himself. He seemed down to Earth. Normal.

“And you?” he asked. “What do you do?”

I felt a wall go up. I didn’t like talking about myself.

“I’m a mom to a seven-year-old son, Tyler. And I work at a desk during the day, processing paperwork.”

I was sure this would be his exit cue. Men always found a way to politely excuse themselves at the mere mention of children. That would be fine with me. I was ready to go home.

“You speak of your job like it’s not important. Do you think this way?”

He hadn’t left. I didn’t know how to respond.

“I guess not,” I stammered. “It’s just, compared to other people’s work, it seems trivial.”

He fixed his green eyes on me. “I see,” he said, nodding. “But you are a mother, too. That is the most difficult job. No?”

I smiled at him. It was a nice compliment.

“How about you?” I asked him. “Do you have children?”

“No. No children. Never married, either.”

This surprised me, but I didn’t say anything.

“You see. I am always working,” he said. “So many hours, all the time. There was a woman I loved once, back home in my country, Argentina, but she didn’t love me back. She ran off and married a bum.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” he replied.

I guessed he was the type of guy who cured heartbreak by drowning himself in his work. Then, as the years go by, he’d find himself married to his career. I felt sad for him. But I wasn’t really sure what to say next. I wished Sabrina would rescue me, but of course, she didn’t.

“So how are you enjoying this party?” Miguel asked, lightening the mood. He wore an expression that hinted of mockery, which confused me a bit.

“It’s okay, I guess. But I’m going to be honest here. This is my first real cocktail party.”

That didn’t come out right. A grin appeared on his face.

“What I mean is, I usually only attend kids’ birthday parties. And my other friends don’t have things like this, and get all dressed up.”

The more I said the worse it got. I sounded like the boring person I truly was.

“I never would’ve guessed,” Miguel said, flashing a warm smile. “You’re so beautiful and glamorous. You seem completely at ease.”

I let out a nervous giggle. I’d never been complimented like that by anyone other than Justin. And I definitely was not at ease. I could feel my cheeks turning pink again.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I replied. “This glamour,” I said, while pointing to my outfit, “is all on loan from our mutual friend, Sabrina.”

Miguel laughed. “That’s Ms. Bergman,” he said. “Clothing is her life. Any chance she gets to plan things like this, she does.” Then he shook his head and made a tsking sound. “I don’t like wearing suits outside of work, but I did, because the invite said formal attire.”

“Sounds like you’re perpetually in costume,” I said.

He laughed again. “Sometimes it feels like that. But, soon enough I’ll be back home, relaxing and playing my guitar with Gordito.”

I thought he must have a roommate, a fellow musician.

“Gordito is my cat,” Miguel explained. “He’s very fat, and he loves music. Whenever I’m playing, he comes by and meows, like he’s singing. I’m happy to have him join in.”

I formed a mental picture and was struck by its silliness. “Maybe you two could compose something together. The YouTube crowd can’t get enough cats.”

He smiled, then all of a sudden looked rather serious. “Maybe I will compose a song for you,” he said.

Maybe this was meant to knock me off my feet or something. And yes, it was nice, but I wasn’t going there.

“That must get a lot of women,” I replied, straightening my stance and taking an unconscious step back.

Miguel didn’t move, looking unsure of himself. No doubt he wasn’t used to ladies who were so abrupt. I guessed they fell at his feet on a regular basis.

“No. It doesn’t,” he joked, “But it doesn’t hurt to try if I meet a woman as exceptional as you.”

I wasn’t exceptional and the poor man was wasting his time.

“Tell me about your family,” he said, quickly changing the subject.

I wanted to bolt, but it would’ve been rude, so I obliged him in conversation.

“Let’s see. My son is seven. My mom lives with us now. And my husband, Justin, passed away a few years ago from cancer. We were high school sweethearts.”

“I see,” Miguel sighed. He seemed to become more of a listener and less of a flirt.

I relaxed a little.

“Well, my family lives in South America,” he added. “Luckily, I get to see them pretty often, but my closest relative here is furry with four paws.”

I laughed. “Gordito.”

“Yes. My cat, my musical partner. The best friend a man could ever ask for.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was a dog.”

Miguel smiled. “No my dear. A cat is a man’s true best friend. Plus,” he added. “I don’t have to walk him.”

I giggled and was starting to relax, but then my stomach growled. Miguel acted like he didn’t hear it.

“Well I better go and find Sabrina. I’ve got to get going soon,” I told him. “It was nice to meet you.”

“It was very nice to meet you too,” Miguel said, then he reached for my hand and gently kissed the top of it.

A riot of conflicting emotions ran through me all at once. I pulled my hand free and waved. Then I flew out of that corner as fast as I could in high heels. I made a beeline for the kitchen.

I got their moments later, and found elegant appetizers arranged next to fine china and napkins. Starving, I took one and loaded it with a few highly-styled snacks. Then I went and sat down in a corner to relax and eat, alone.

I was a little disappointed Sabrina hadn’t spent any time with me yet. Hadn’t she been the one insisting she could use a friend at this party? I figured I’d better find her soon, and visit for a little while, otherwise it wouldn’t be polite of me to leave.

I devoured my small meal and washed it down with sparkling water. As I sat in the chair I closed my eyes. I was starting to feel stressed. Then I patted my lips with a napkin and got up, ready to find Sabrina.

While walking through the crowd I made no eye contact with anyone. I scanned the room for a purple gown, for the hostess. Once I spotted her, I snuck up on her left-hand side, not wanting to interrupt her conversation.

Sabrina kept talking to the little group while I watched her. She oozed charm and captivated her listeners, with both her witty conversation and sense of style. She had a magnetic quality. She clearly didn’t need me here. Everyone was already fascinated by her.

I wondered if Justin had been.

“Amy,” Sabrina said, turning to me. “This is Tatiana and this is Magda.”

She identified the tall, goddess-like women she’d been talking to.

“Hello,” I said, raising my hand up in a little wave.

Sabrina continued. “These two ladies model for us in runway shows and print ads.”

Of course they were models. People in real life just didn’t look that good.

“Nice to meet both of you. Sounds like fun, what you two do,” I added.

They both smiled and looked down at me like I was insignificant. Under other circumstances, they probably wouldn’t even have acknowledged me, but since their boss was standing right there, they behaved. Still, they didn’t ask me what I did for a living, or engage in any further conversation like the other guests I’d met. A polite smile was all they had to give. Then they excused themselves and walked away.

“So how are you doing?” Sabrina asked. “Are you having a good time?”

I answered with the best I could come up with. “Yeah, I’m having fun. The food’s delicious.”

Sabrina gave me an inquisitive look.

I wore my blank face then asked, “How are you doing? Is everything turning out well?”

She surveyed the room and said, “I think so. It’s mostly business associates. I try to get them all together from time to time, to get to know each other.”

I nodded. She was doing a fine job, I thought.

“Sabrina,” I said. “I’m having a great time, but it’s a long ride back to my side of town. And I’m sure my mom and Tyler are up waiting for me. Would you be offended if I left a little early?”

She sighed. I could tell she was disappointed. “No. Of course, I understand. It was good of you to come.”

I was relieved. I didn’t think I could handle anymore mingling. “Thanks for inviting me,” I told her. “I had fun. I’ll have the dress cleaned and return it with the others.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, waving her hand. “Here, let me walk you to the door.”

Sabrina and I began heading toward the foyer, but then someone called out to her.

“Don’t worry about me,” I said. “I know my way.”

I waved goodbye as she went back toward her business associates, some of whom were now intoxicated enough to shout to her from across the room.

I did a quick scan for her friend, Miguel, but he was nowhere in sight.

I shut the front door and inhaled a breath of fresh, evening air. On the exhale, I let go of all the tension I’d built up about going to the party. I’d done it. And now I was heading home. It was a comforting feeling.

After taking a few steps, I heard a car door slam shut and someone talking. I recognized the man’s voice. He was alone, so he must’ve been on his cell phone. As he drew nearer, I discovered who it was.

“Doctor Friedman?”

“Yes,” he answered, stowing his phone in his suit jacket pocket. He looked confused. I could tell he recognized me, but couldn’t figure out from where.

“It’s Amy White,” I said. “You were my husband Justin’s oncologist.”

As he stared at me I could almost hear the gears turning in his head. Then they clicked.

“Yes. Of course,” he said, extending his hand. “How are you doing?”

“I’m hanging in there.”

He looked at me with his professional compassion, then put his hand on my shoulder. “I want you to know I did everything I could,” he said.