There's Always Tomorrow (Immortal Series) (13 page)

Tony snorted
and rolled his eyes, but Giada didn’t see.
 
“You could say that.
 
I’ve been all over the world, sweet cheeks, and I’ll probably keep on
traveling.”

Giada looked
up at the darkening sky.
 
Twilight
had descended without their noticing.
 
She sighed.
 
“It must be
wonderful to see so much.
 
It must
make you very smart.”

Tony sat
down on the rough-hewn step and looked at the beautiful girl curled up in the
rustic chair.
 
“I don’t think I’m
that smart, and life on the road can get lonely.
 
It’s hard to make lasting relationships when you know you’ll
be moving on.”
 
He thought that was
true about his life in general.
 
Not only had he traveled great distances over the course of his life,
but he had left many friends behind as well, lost in time.
 
That was the saddest thing of all.

“Night comes
quick up here, Giada.
 
I think we
need to unpack and get some dinner started.
 
We need to turn in early.”

Giada
explored the cozy cabin.
 
It was
clean and homey.
 
Against one wall
stood an upright piano.
 
She’d play
for Tony, later, she decided, hoping it was tuned.
 
A huge round table sat in the middle of the room.
 
Its center pedestal was made from an
ancient tree trunk.
 
Several animal
heads adorned the stonewall above the fireplace.
 
She found a deck of cards in a drawer, along with some
dominos and a jigsaw puzzle.

“Look here,
Tony,” she announced, excitedly, as she held up the cards and dominos.
 
“At least we won’t get bored.”

Tony had no
intention of getting bored.
 
He had
to keep his eyes and ears open, while they were in hiding.
 
He needed to provide security, and he
needed to keep his libido in check.
 
Giada was so damn beautiful.
 
She made his eyes hurt and his groin ache.
 
Her plump breasts jiggled slightly, tucked in the delicate
white blouse she wore.
 
He’d
already seen her shapely legs, on stage.
 
Giada was exquisite and as sweet as sugar.
 
He needed to be on guard at all times, and try to avoid her.
 
“Damn,” he muttered, praying he could
rise to the insurmountable challenge.

Giada made
sandwiches and opened a can of tomato soup.
 
She sliced some apples and slathered them with peanut
butter.
 
Tony made the coffee, hot
and strong.
 
Giada chose milk.

Dinner was
consumed quickly, and in relative silence.

Tony stood
looking out the window, staring into the darkness.
 
“Let’s take the apples and beverages out onto the porch,” he
suggested.
 
“I miss the night
sounds of the deep woods.”
 
Tony
sighed.
 
“In the city, the noises
are so loud and jarring.
 
They
disrupt your life.
 
But here, a man
can think.
 
I feel as if there is
still some hope for me, and I don’t have to run from life.”
 
Tony was embarrassed to hear his
private thoughts spoken, aloud, but here, and with Giada, he could voice his
innermost fears.
 
“The quiet sounds
of the night calm your nerves and lull you to sleep.”

He turned
toward Giada, to help her out onto the porch, and discovered she had fallen
fast asleep at the table, never hearing a word of his deeply felt
confession.
 
It had been a long
day.
 

Tony quietly
closed the screen door and walked over to the sleeping beauty.
 
He picked her up, surprised to find she
weighed nearly nothing, and deposited her on the soft double bed.
 
A colorful quilt was pulled back and
four feather pillows waited for her to rest her sleepy head.

He kissed
her cheek and whispered, “Sleep tight, darling.
 
You’re safe, here.”
 
He pulled the quilt up to her chin and turned down the lamp.
 
He’d sleep on the sofa, as there was
only one bed.

“This could
be a long, long retreat,” he muttered.

* * *

The sound of
birds singing their morning songs awakened Giada.
 
The bright sunlight streamed through the crystal clean
windows and heated the wood planked floor.
 
It was a lovely morning.
 
She sat up and stretched, looking around the comfortable
room for Tony, but he was nowhere to be seen. She could get used to this, she
thought.

“Morning,
sleepy head,” Tony called to her, from the back door.
 
“How are you feeling this fine morning?”

Giada smiled
like an adorable child.
 
“I’ve
never slept better.
 
Oh, Tony.
 
I don’t ever want to go back to
Chicago.
 
I wish Mama could come up
here for vacation, someday.
 
She
and Papa work so hard.”

Wanting to
make her happy, Tony heard himself say, “I’ll see what I can do.
 
I have a few connections.”

Immediately,
Giada was sailing off the bed and flying into his arms.
 
She threw her arms around his neck and
kissed his cheek.
 
“I love you,
Tony.
 
You’re the best!”

Tony knew
that she didn’t mean ‘love’ exactly.
 
She was simply very happy.
 
“Do you love me as much as you love Paul Whiteman?”

Giada tapped
her teeth with her manicured nail.
 
“I don’t know.
 
I do love
his music.
 
Do you play an
instrument, Tony?”

“Uh-hmm.”
 
He cleared his throat and strutted
around the room.
 
“As a matter of
fact, I play the flugelhorn.”
 
He
tried not to laugh.

“You
don’t!
 
No one plays the
flugelhorn!
 
You made that up.”

“Did not.”

“Did to.”

“Listen to
yourself, Giada.
 
You sound like a
child,” he chuckled.

“Do not.”

He laughed
again.
 
“Do to.”

Suddenly, he
grabbed her by the waist, and swung her around the room until she shrieked with
laughter.
 
It felt good to play as
children.
 
He no longer felt so
old.
 
He didn’t feel cursed.
 
In fact, he felt blessed.
 
In his arms was the most wonderful
creature he could imagine, and she was happy to be with him.
 
He sat her down, on her feet, and
kissed her.
 
Really kissed her.

Giada closed
her eyes.
 
“Mmmm, I like this,” she
sighed.

Tony drew
back and smiled.
 
“So do I.
 
You’re very kissable.
 
I’ve got a treat for you.”

“You
do?”
 
Giada’s eyes opened wide with
surprise.
 
“What is it?
 
Candy?
 
I love candy.
 
Or is it cake?
 
Pie?”

Tony
laughed.
 
“You remind me of a child
at Christmas.
 
Come here and I’ll
show you,” he grinned as he reached for her hand.

He led her
across the front room to the far corner.
 
Partially concealed behind a large potted plant, was a
phonograph—a portable phonograph.

“Oh,
Tony!
 
It’s wonderful!
 
Does it have any records?
 
Can we take it anywhere?”
 
Giada had seen the advertisements for
the new portables, and wished she owned one, but they were very expensive.
 
She guessed this one cost more than
forty dollars—a king’s ransom.
 
That’s more than she made in a month.

“Well, let’s
see.”
 
He found a stack of
recordings on a small table.
 
“Paul
Whiteman’s, ‘Hot Lips’, is here.”

Giada
wrinkled her nose.
 
“I love Paul,
but I like his new recording, ‘Three o’clock in the Morning’, better.
 
Is there any Caruso?”
 
She tried to peek around his shoulders.

“I found
‘Some Sunny Day’.
 
It’s Irving
Berlin.”

She shook
her head.
 
“Do you see Enrico
Caruso?”

“There’s
some George M. Cohan.
 
I like him,”
he confessed.
 
“There’s Al Jolson
and Eddie Cantor.
 
They’re so
funny.
 
I saw them both, the last
time I was in New York,” Tony said, casually.
 
“Oh, here’s, “My Buddy”, by Henry Burr.
 
You know that one, don’t you?”

Giada
nodded.
 
“I don’t like it.
 
It makes me cry.
 
Are you sure there’s no Caruso?” she
pressed.
 
“I wish I could have seen
him sing.
 
He came to Chicago, all
the time, but I couldn’t afford the ticket to hear him.
 
He did see me dance, once, and he
winked at me,” she crowed.

“I bet he
did wink,” Tony growled, remembering how fetching Giada looked on stage.
 
“I hate to disappoint you, but there is
definitely no Caruso in this stack.”

“Oh,
well.
 
It doesn’t make any
difference anyway.
 
I can’t believe
he’s dead.
 
He was so young.”
 
She thought for a moment and turned
toward Tony.
 
She grasped his arm,
and turned him to her, so they were face to face.

“Life is
short for all of us, Tony.
 
None of
us know when we will be called to paradise.”

Tony started
to say something, but Giada put her fingers to his lips to silence him. “Not
the Paradise Lounge, Tony...heavenly paradise.”
 
She rolled her eyes.
 
“I’m serious.
 
That is why
life is so precious.
 
Everyday is a
new chance to make life better for someone else.
 
It’s really not about ourselves.
 
I want to make things better for my family.
 
They try to make things better for
me.
 
I want the best for you, Tony.
 
Your eyes hide a deep sadness.
 
Perhaps, in time, I’ll be able to erase
that sadness,” she said, hopefully.
 
“You need to find a purpose in life...an incentive for getting up every
morning and doing your best throughout the day.
 
Then you’ll have a reason for living, however many years you
have left.”

Tony placed
his hand around her tiny waist.
 
“You’re how old, Giada?
 
You
are wise beyond your years, sweetheart.”
 
He leaned down and lightly kissed her lips.

Clearing his
throat, Tony announced, “I’ve a wonderful idea.
 
You make a light lunch, and I’ll pack up this machine.
 
We’ll go on a picnic.
 
It’s a beautiful day, and although there
will be no Caruso, I think Paul Whiteman will do nicely.
 
What do you say?”

Giada
bounced up and down, and clapped her hands.
 
“Yes, yes.
 
I’ll
be ready in a jiffy.”
 
She rushed
to the cozy kitchenette, and stopped, turning to look back at Tony.
 
“We aren’t going to go out onto the
water, are we, Tony?”
 
She needed
clarification.

He shook his
head.
 
“No sweetie.
 
Just a picnic.”

Her eyes
narrowed as she continued to stare at his incredibly green eyes.
 
“Promise?”

Tony
chuckled.
 
“Cross my heart.”

* * *

The weather
was perfect, the food was fabulous, and the company was unsurpassed.
 
Tony and Giada laughed for hours.
 
They rested on the blanket that Tony
remembered to bring, and guessed at cloud formations.
 
They laughed at the squirrels running from tree to tree, and
Tony teased Giada with bugs.
 
The
lemonade was cold and sweet, and Tony had to admit, it was much better than any
alcoholic drink he had guzzled, in the last several years.

Suddenly,
Tony was aware that his life had profoundly changed.
 
He reached up to his neck and felt the leather pouch warm
against his skin.
 
As foretold,
long ago, his life had been changed for the better since meeting a beautiful
woman, wise and pure of heart.
 
He
knew at that moment, she had saved him for all eternity.
 
No longer was he in danger of losing
his soul.
 
She was an angel, and
she’d been sent to save him, to pull him back from the dark abyss.
 
He owed her his life.