In This Life (23 page)

“Deacon Grayson?” I shot up like a bullet in the air. I couldn’t believe how fast I got to my feet. “Deacon, is that you?”

It was a young girl from the youth group. What was her name? Georgina. I pretended to look confused, acting like I didn’t know her. I was grateful for the cap on my head and the scarf that hid a part of my face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else,” she apologized. Anna sat silently, observing this exchange.

I waved my hand in the air. “It’s okay,” I said before dropping back to the ground. There was pure dishonor on my face as I turned to look at Anna. Slowly and deliberately, she brought the sandwich to her mouth and took another bite. “I’m sorry about that,” I sputtered out, embarrassed.

Another shrug of her shoulders. “No biggie.” And then an afterthought. “Are you ready to be seen with me?”

“What a question. Of course, I am. It’s no one’s business,” I responded with tenacity. I drove the point home by grabbing her hand and holding it close to my face.

“How much,” she said in a teasing voice, “how much do you want to bet that you aren’t ready? I bet you’ll deny me a few more times before all is said and done.” I didn’t sense any tension in her tone. She was speaking as if it was a known fact, a normal reaction.

“Blue,” I said resolutely, “we’re together, and I’m proud to be with you.”

“WHERE ARE WE
meeting her again?” I asked as we weaved through a crowd of shoppers along Fifth Avenue. We had driven the four hours to the city to meet Maggie, who had asked to meet Anna for a day of wedding related errands. She was finally off for the weekend, and I had asked if I could tag along. The countdown was on, and I wanted to spend as much time with her as I could. I held her hand tightly as she stopped every once in a while to admire the window displays as we walked along the street.

“Tiffany’s in half an hour,” she answered, her thoughts engrossed in something else. I could tell by the way that she walked confidently that she was comfortable in her skin, shopping on Fifth Avenue with the crowd of discriminating shoppers. “Can we stop in for a second?” she asked as she led me through the doors of Saks Fifth Avenue and headed straight to the area that held the designer women’s purses.

The rest of that day went by without a hitch. Anna met Maggie at Tiffany’s and spent a few hours with her while I roamed Fifth Avenue on my own. I found solitude in one of the pews at Saint Patrick’s Cathedral one hour before the evening mass was about to begin.

I strolled aimlessly up and down the aisle of statues and altars and votive candles, lighting as many as I could until I ran out of change. I prayed for many things; I prayed for my family and Anna’s family, and I lit a special candle for Leola. In a twisted way, I would never have gotten the chance to spend time with Anna if he hadn’t given her up. She would have stayed with him, made it work, and tried her best to forget about me.

In the car on the drive home, I realized that I didn’t need to pray for peace. For the first time in five years, I was sure that I had it. I felt it all around me—in the touch of Anna’s hand as she rested it on my thigh throughout the long drive back, in her stories as she told me about the day she spent with Maggie, in the sound of her laughter as she teased me about passing gas in the car, and in the look on her face as I watched her with her eyes closed, fast asleep. I found my peace, and I was in a desperate bid to keep it. That’s what I should have prayed for
. Let me keep my peace.

“HI!”

Anna walked into our apartment the next day just as I was putting the away the dishes in the sink. Peter staggered back into his bedroom as I made my way over to greet her. The boxes were gone, the mail had been put away, and the apartment now felt like home, all compliments of Anna. She’d been cleaning up around our place each time she paid me a visit. And it was only because she couldn’t sit still for very long. Our movie nights consisted of me camped on the couch while she moved around putting everything neatly back where it belonged.

“Good morning, Peter,” she said. “I’m a little early.”

“Early is good,” I assured her. “We should leave in half an hour.”

Our place had now taken on a new look. Two framed street paintings were hung on the wall in the living room and a fluffy grey wool rug occupied the floor directly adjacent to the couch. She took her usual seat whenever she came over, a comfortable easy chair facing the aquarium.

“You look beautiful.” I sat on my knees between her legs and kissed her. She wore a short black skirt that showed enough skin, tastefully paired with slim, high-heeled boots. She’d kept her hair down today and it framed her face perfectly. My fingers automatically moved to brush the glaring pink birthmark on her thigh. There we were again, kissing like there was no tomorrow. Kissing and kissing and kissing. That was all we did, and I could have made a lifetime career out of it.

“Are you sure? I know you said casual, but it’s been a little nerve wracking, figuring out what to wear to meet your family.”

I tilted her face towards mine and kissed her in response.

“Merle looks sick,” she interrupted, pointing to the male seahorse who seemed suspended in the water.

“No, I think he’s asleep.”

“Pearl’s just too much for him. Look at her.” She laughed as the female seahorse flitted in and out of the coral.

“I know. I get exhausted just watching her. Like a spitfire,” I said, looking at her pointedly.

“Uh-huh.” She gave me a peck on the cheek. “Go get dressed. I’ll be right here waiting.”

“WHOSE CAR IS
this?” she asked as we walked to the parking garage across the street one hour later than planned and got into a silver 2010 Range Rover. Peter had bailed out of this trip, claiming a hangover. “Where’s the jeep?”

“It’s Pete’s,” I answered, afraid to look into her eyes. “This drives much better so he offered it to me today.”

Minutes later, we were cruising comfortably along I-95, heading north towards Scarsdale, listening to the steady sound of the windshield wipers swishing back and forth as the snow fell quietly all around us. Anna began to interrogate me about my family. You could tell that she was nervous. I, too, was quite apprehensive. So far, I’d managed to speak openly about her only to Father Scott and Uncle Ralph. I had yet to gauge my father’s response to meeting her. Today would confirm to the world that she was a part of my life.

“Does your family drive exaggeratedly big bad cars or is this a personal choice of yours?” she asked with a wide smile, running her fingers up and down my arms. “I know for a fact that you’re not trying to over compensate.” She giggled.

“First of all, a Rover is not big and bad. It’s a cool, safe car,” I answered. She laughed hysterically at my comment. It was a forced, agitated kind of laugh.

“What do you think they’ll ask me first? ‘Is it true you’re a married woman? Are you trying to send our son to hell?’” She was definitely entering into a state of panic. I placed my hand on her thigh which was shaking up and down. “They know you’re going back, right?”

They certainly assumed that. I was the one who was no longer sure.

I steered the car to the side of the road and slowed down to a halt. Parking on a snow filled bank on a two lane road in the middle of a forest preserve wasn’t the smartest thing to do in the middle of a snowstorm. But I wanted to hold her, assure that it would all be fine.

“Baby,” I whispered, reaching out to touch her face, “if you want to turn back, we can. If you don’t feel right about this, we can cancel and just go home.”

She leaned her body over the middle console and kissed me on the cheek. “It’s okay,” she affirmed. “I’ll be fine. Let’s drive on. Today will be a day of questions and I’m just going to take them as they come.” She slipped herself back to her original position and announced without any resentment in her voice, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to close my eyes and rest for a few minutes.”

“BLUE, WE’RE HERE.”
I roused her gently as we pulled up to the black gates along a brick paved driveway that led to my parents’ home. I watched as she opened her eyes to find the sprawling brick Georgian colonial in front of her. She didn’t look surprised at all as she straightened up her clothes and slipped off her seatbelt. I rounded the fountain in the middle of the driveway and parked by the side of the house.

“You have a beautiful home,” she said as she stepped out of the car and retrieved the gifts that she had brought for my parents.

“Thank you. We had many happy times growing up here.”

“Jude!” My sister Katie came running outside to meet us.

“Hi, I’m Anna Dillon,” she said as she extended her hand out to my sister.

Katie looked at me and then at Anna. “Oh, yes! Hi, I’m Katie.” She quickly regained her composure and warmly shook Anna’s hand.

At this point, I knew Anna realized I had not warned my family that she was coming to dinner with me. She glanced at me but stood unfazed, like a champ.

“Don’t say it,” I cut Katie short as she was about to open her mouth.

She pulled me to her and said in my ear, “I’m going to. I have to. How? How did you get someone as hot as that?” she whispered.

I gave her a smug look and walked away. “Who’s here?” I asked as we headed towards the front door.

“Everyone.”

Great.

Anna was relaxed and confident as we entered the house. In fact, she made an effort to stay by Katie and I knew she was trying to give me space.

“Mãe, your favorite is home!” Katie called out jokingly.

My mother and father emerged from the living room, holding hands.

“Hi Mãe, Dad.” I greeted them with a kiss. “This is my friend, Dr. Anna Dillon. Anna, these are my parents, Milagros and Pat.”

She stepped forward and embraced each of them before handing my mother the bouquet of orchids and my father the bottle of champagne.

“What a pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Grayson. You have a beautiful home.” Eight-thousand five-hundred square feet of meticulously designed rooms and high-end furniture. My father had migrated from Ireland and successfully broke into the real estate market.