Love Deluxe (21 page)

I was glad he appreciated that piece of old Florida, I was afraid he might be bored, L.A. and Vegas man that he was. But John Foster embraced life, he got excited about all kinds of people and places, he was a trooper, up for any escapade. How dull had my life become before he came along? There were trips of course, with the Alamo Heights crowd when I was newly widowed, they all included me and did their best to pretend my life hadn’t changed. But I was on the fringes of everyone else’s lives, even Emily and my sisters were going home to whole families at the end of the day. Henry and I had traveled with our child, always immersed in doing things that were of interest to Brooks. We were planning a month long trip to Europe, just the two of us, after Brooks left for college. It never happened, when our son was gone desire for such things floated away, maybe Henry cancelled the trip, I don’t know and I still don’t care.

We packed up and moved on to Mt. Dora, the back of the car was crammed with old books, mounted fish and various wild animals found at an old taxidermist’s shop. I bought dozens of hand colored survey maps of southern rivers and coastlines, most of them circa 1850 to 1870 that would look fantastic framed. Many were crumbling where they’d been folded for such a long time, I’d have them mounted on mat board with all their imperfections adding character and nuance. The best maps I would frame and use for the cottage in Seaside, their faded blue, yellow and parchment colors and time worn, ragged edges would look beautiful with more contemporary paintings and the natural linen slip covers and drapes I’d ordered.

“So what’s in Mt. Dora?” John asked.

“You and me in a minute.”

“I married a comedienne,” he said.

“Well, there are lots of semi-tacky antiques malls that sometimes hold a treasure that the dealer isn’t aware of, I can usually pick up a few things that way. Mainly we’re going for Renninger’s; it’s an antiques market that’s fantastic, they have these outdoor extravaganzas several times a year and dealers flock from all over. Right now only the indoor dealers will be open and only on weekends so we’re in luck. I like to buy Victorian wicker oddities and great bamboo pieces, rustic pine, over the top French farmhouse furniture, Venetian mirrors and Murano glass chandeliers. One dealer carries the absolute best French butcher blocks, but what I especially come for are the religious statues, there’s a dealer who always finds the very best, they’re from churches in Italy, France and Mexico. She only sells carved wooden statues with polychrome detailing, some are more than two hundred years old, they’re magnificent. Her prices are high but I have customers who can’t wait to get their hands on them so don’t have a fit if I pay several thousand dollars for the perfect likeness of the Blessed Mother.”

I found an abundance of intriguing inventory at Renninger’s including five remarkable statues. Everything would be shipped to Texas, including the treasures in the car, except for the statues. They were all carefully wrapped and packed among our pieces of luggage; I didn’t want to take a chance shipping them, the old paint chipped too easily.

“What now, buddy?” John asked once we were on the road.

“Get a room, order a pizza, I’m exhausted,” I said.

“What hotel ya got in mind?”

“Well, there are only dives around here, I usually drive the half hour to Orlando and stay at the Grand Floridian on the Disney property.”

“How about you let me pick tonight, let’s have a poor man’s adventure, no offense to my sweetie, but you could use a reality check. What do you say, wanna see if you can roll with it?”

“You’re kidding aren’t you? Have you been miserable this whole time?”

“No, no, no, I’ve had a blast! Who wouldn’t want to live like a king? I just think maybe you should see how the other half lives, the kind of motels that I grew up staying in. When I was a kid if we stayed in anything with a pool it was a palace.”

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

For some reason that struck him as beyond hilarious, he couldn’t stop laughing as I drove into Mt. Dora filled with dread.

“That one, that one, pull in there!”

There was way too much excitement in his voice for him to mean the ramshackle motel he was pointing to. I drove into the parking lot and started to ask if he was joking, but he was already walking into the office. I stared at the
Easter Egg Motel
and the Bates Motel came to mind.
Lord
, I wondered,
what is he thinking
? We could be at Disney World in no time, get comfortable at the Grand Floridian or the Wilderness Lodge and order room service. He came bounding back, opened the car door and dangled a key attached to a plastic key ring.

“What, no key cards at the fabulous Easter Egg?”

“Drive around there, its room number 203.”

I parked and said, “There’s a door kicked in, there are windows missing.”

“We’re upstairs, best room in the place, the guy at the desk promised me.”

I sat still, not sure if he was serious, he held my door open, bags over his shoulder and said, “Come on buddy, I’m ready for that pizza.”

I stepped onto the walkway and as he turned toward the stairs I yelled, “John I admit it, I’m a hotel snob!”

He burst out laughing and continued up the stairs.

I walked across the hideous blue shag carpet and could feel the deteriorating concrete crunch underneath. There were two double beds, each as bowed in the middle as the other, I couldn’t imagine that the thin, polyester bedspreads would hold up to that black light test I’d heard about. John pulled the spread off one bed, kicked off his shoes, picked up the phone and ordered a pizza. I stood in the bathroom, glanced around quickly and prayed I wouldn’t find a pubic hair or worse.

“Hey, guess what?” he called from the bed, “this TV doesn’t even have a remote.”

I looked around the corner at the prehistoric television, shook my head and said, “I’m taking a shower, you couldn’t pay me to sit in this tub, I feel violated just walking in here.” I lifted the lid of the toilet, the water was yellow and a roach swam on top, I flushed it and felt nauseous. He was fiddling with the TV and I wanted to kill him for whatever the hell he was trying to prove.

I turned on the shower, stripped and stepped under the spray, closed my eyes and let the water drench my hair.
I can do this
, I thought,
you will not get the better of me, I have survived shit you can’t even fathom, and you think I’m a princess, buddy? Well you can kiss my ass and not like it.
I opened my eyes and stared for a minute, the shower head was covered in live, green algae. I screamed at the top of my lungs and jumped out grabbing a postage stamp sized towel.

“What is it buddy? What happened, are you hurt?”

“There’s something growing on that shower head!”

He pushed back the moldy shower curtain and started laughing again, then looked at my face and laughed even harder.

“Ugh, go fuck yourself. I’m going back to civilization. And don’t even try to come with me, I’m sure
Prostitutes Are Us
will be delivering that pizza any minute, see if they can roll with you.”

He laughed so hard he didn’t try to stop me as I jerked my jeans on and slipped into my tennis shoes. I yanked my sweater over my head, grabbed my purse and suitcase and flew down the stairs.

He leaned over the railing and called after me, “Wait, don’t go, I’m sorry, it was a joke, take me with you!”

I drove to Orlando blasting all the music I liked that he didn’t, the Goo Goo Dolls, Sade and some French singer I knew he couldn’t stand. He played it cool, put in his earbuds; I grabbed them and threw them out the window before he could stop me.

“What the fuck? Those are new, turn around, I’ll look for them.”

“Don’t test me right now; I am not in the mood.”

He watched me for a minute to gage the depth of my pissed-offness, scooted his arm toward mine on the center console and I put both hands on the steering wheel. He leaned over, sucked on my neck until I pushed him away.

Perfect, a hickey, just what I needed.

“Please stop, I know you’re playing but I’m tired and irritated and I’m about to start my period so just don’t.”

“Ah, so my wife needs me to help her with that, get the blood flowing so she can have some relief and get out of this bad mood.”

“You’re a sick man; you do know that, right?” I pulled up in front of the Grand Floridian and said, “Go check in and I’ll valet the car and
do not
tell the person at the front desk that we need an upgrade due to my PMS.”

The room was great, with an enormous bathtub so I didn’t care whether he paid for it or held them at knifepoint to get it. I just wanted to take a hot bath and a pill for cramps and go to bed. I carried my overnight bag into the bathroom and locked the door.

John knocked softly, “Buddy, do you hate me?”

“No, I’m in pain, go have a drink or something. Leave me alone.”

When I crawled into bed the room was empty, the curtains hung open and fireworks from the Magic Kingdom reflected off the lake outside. It was beautiful and brought to mind family trips when Brooks was little and loved nothing more than Disney World. I hadn’t needed a Xanax in a long time but I’d taken one along with a pain pill before my bath and it was a good thing.

My cramps eased a bit and my bad mood began to lift, but looking out on the fireworks all alone in the empty room caused an immense wash of loneliness and brought quick tears that stung and trickled down my face. The door opened and John stepped inside balancing a tray of food, followed by a maid with a heating pad and a bottle of Patron Tequila. I wiped my face and sat up in bed, he tipped the maid and she left. He glanced at me and smiled, filled two shot glasses and set them on the table beside me, plugged in the heating pad and efficiently scooted it under the covers and onto my body. He wiped the rest of the tears from my face and I thought my heart would burst from that simple act of tenderness.

“John, I was an awful bitch, I’m sorry.”

“No, it was a stupid stunt I played, I just wanted to have some fun with you. I didn’t know you were edgy and it was getting to be that time of month. Here,” he said, “drink this.”

I sipped at the tequila and it burned as it went down, I screwed up my face and he said, “You have to throw it back fast. Try sweetie, I want you to mellow out, I hate to see you like this.”

I managed to drink the shot in two more gulps and my throat was on fire but I felt its effect immediately. Combined with the pills I’d taken, I was getting happy fast.

“Did you see the fireworks?” I asked him, “I could see them on the surface of the water, but I was all by myself and I started missing you.”

“My sweetie was missing me? You do need me don’t you? Sometimes I think you’ve had enough of me and all my craziness, the stupid things I do. Maybe I’m just someone to entertain you and for you to have sex with. That’s what I’m good at, but how long before you’ve had enough and move on? You could end up with Sam McKay or someone like him who’s smart and rich and knows how to make you happy.”

He poured two more shots, we clinked our glasses together, and he finished his quickly. I sipped mine and it burned going down, but heated my entire body.

“Is that what you think of me, that I’m not in control of my faculties enough that I would marry you just for fun? Yes, we got married in a fever, there’s no doubt about it, but how can you question that I love you when we spend every minute together? Do you honestly think you’re just a thing for sex?”

“Well, I’ve heard it all my life.”

“You can’t let a long line of simpering girls determine how you see yourself, buddy.”

His eyes turned sad and he rubbed them for a long time and said, “My dad always told me, he told everybody, from the time I was nine or ten. He’d say, “That boy’s hung like a hammer, women will use him.” What else have I really ever been good at, Catey? He says you’ll get tired of me, it’s just a matter of time before the new wears off.”

“My God, my father was right,” I said and he looked at me, his face flushed from his admission. “He said he knew your dad was a wife beater or a child abuser the first time he laid eyes on him. For heaven’s sake, John, that is emotional abuse of a child and unfucking-believably messed up! A grown man, a father, commenting to people about his child’s genitals. He’s not right in the head, I’m sorry but I’ve kept my mouth shut as long as I can. I don’t think you should be in business with him and count me out of ever being within a hundred miles of him again. I don’t trust him, I can’t stand him, he’s a boorish bullying… jack ass. John, he doesn’t treat you right, I don’t know, do what you want, it’s your call. But, know this, I’m not stupid, or emotionally disturbed although I am emotional at times, with legitimate reason to be. I love you,
you
, your heart and your very often crazy head and yes your…sex, but that’s a bonus. So, hear me and believe, I’m with you because I have found in you the place where I belong.”

In the morning John wanted to do the whole Disney World thing, “Man, I wanna ride the Rockin’ Roller Coaster, come on, buddy, let’s do it!”

“We have to drive back to Seaside today, we need to get busy and finish the cottage redo before we go home for Christmas, we only have three weeks, and we have to get with the program. Then there’s my big house to pack up in San Antonio and move everything to the carriage house and I know you have to check on your project in Austin, no telling what that mad man is up to with your money.”