Truth (15 page)

It was funny how a colon and half of a
parentheses could bring a smile to Derek’s face, but it did.

At the front desk of the
Boston Harbor Hotel, Derek retrieved his mysterious envelope and
tipped the concierge. He surveyed the contents of the envelope: a
key to suite 523 and a beautifully scribed note:
Come see your surprise.

His enthusiasm amplified with each step of
this faux clandestine encounter.

Opening the door to suite
523, he beheld his
something
special
leaning against the wall,
illuminated by candles. Scattered near the sketched self-portrait
of his beautiful naked wife and through the suite’s sitting room
were thousands of rose petals. If the petals didn’t indicate his
directed path the assortment of lacy under garments at each two
step intervals did. Following the erotic GPS, Derek found his
beautiful wife, dressed exactly as she was in the sketch, lying
upon a large four poster bed. The candles provided a sweet sexy
fragrance combined with the perfect flickering glow.

In mere seconds Derek was
dressed to match – or rather
undressed
.

Hours later, wearing thick hotel robes, they
settled onto the intimate dining table on the balcony of their
suite. Boston Harbor’s lights glimmered in the cool spring night
air. Sophia surveyed the feast before her as she felt her husband’s
gentle fingers lift her long disheveled hair and his lips kiss her
exposed neck. Despite the warm terrycloth, goose bumps appeared on
her arms and long slender legs. She closed her eyes, as a purr
escaped her lips.

His warm breath bathed her ear as Derek
whispered, “I love my surprise.”

Sophia’s smile radiated her entire face.
“Good, I’m glad. I’ve missed you.”

“
I’ve missed you,
too.”

“
Tell me about your job
prospect; I promise I’m listening.” Her toe wandered up his warm
leg.

“
Hmmm, I think you’re
trying to distract me.”

Sophia beamed, “No, I think, if I wanted to
distract you, I could.”

Derek’s cheeks rose, as
admiration radiated from his gaze. Without a doubt, if there was
one thing Sophia was good at doing, it was distracting him.
Actually she was good at many things. Beholding her now, hair
beautifully tousled and wearing only a white robe, he prayed
being understanding
was
among her list of attributes. “The company is one of the biggest
players out there. They have potential to be even
bigger.”

“
And you want
it?”

Derek looked down. This was easier on the
phone, not seeing her beautiful trusting eyes before him. “I
do.”

“
Then tell them
yes
.”

“
But, what about us? What
about living arrangements? Travel?”

Sophia left her food untouched, fell to her
knees, and sat back on her heels before her husband. “I love you.
Did you say I could stay in Provincetown and you’d be there every
weekend?”

“
Yes,
unless...”

“
Unless you need to be out
of the country.”

“
Yes.”

“
Where will you live
during the week?”

“
I guess I’ll have an
apartment or condo in Santa Clara.” He smoothed her blonde hair.
This was going so much better than he’d expected.

Sophia continued, “And didn’t you say they
offered you transportation back and forth?”

“
Yes, but that’s a lot of
time apart.”

She lifted herself to encircle his neck. “If
you want this, if it’s your dream, and if we’ll be able to afford
both homes, I can travel too. I can spend some of my weeks in Santa
Clara and some weekends too. We can both spend time in
Provincetown. I can paint, draw, and sketch -- anywhere.”

Derek dropped his head to hers, sighing
audibly. “I didn’t think you’d take it this well.” She kissed his
cheek. He asked, “You’d be willing to travel?”

“
I’m willing to do
whatever I need to do, to be with you.”

“
I anticipate long hours,
during the week.”

“
Have you ever known me to
shy away from late nights, or early mornings?” Sophia asked with a
sultry smirk.

Derek smiled, “Late nights no, early
mornings -- not really your thing.”

“
So, I’ll just consider
early mornings to be later nights. It all blends together. Besides,
if you’re some big wig, you need a wife by your side.”

He lifted her body as he stood. “Mrs. Burke,
you’re right, as always.” His hands began to roam under the thick
robe as his lips found the place where her neck and shoulders met,
the spot that sent tingles throughout her body.

“
What about dinner?” She
murmured, “I ordered your favorites.”

“
I think I need some more
of my surprise appetizer.”

Sophia didn’t argue, or agree. Her mind was
lost in her husband’s touch.

The next morning they awoke to their new
reality. They were moving to Santa Clara, and they needed a place
to live. Stepping into the spacious glass shower, she thought about
their impending adventure. Although Sophia traveled all over
Europe, she’d never been to California. Being born and raised in
New Jersey, the East Coast was always home.

Her parents lived in the same house where
she was raised. They’d lived there for over forty years. Feeling
the warm water coat her body and inhaling the fresh clean scent of
body wash, Sophia realized home was a feeling, not a place. She
liked that feeling. It made her feel safe, loved, and wanted.

Rinsing the floral scented cream rinse from
her long hair, she suddenly shivered as cool air penetrated her
warm moist haven. Before she could turn or comment, Derek caressed
her trim waist and hips. He was her home. He gave her that feeling.
It even transcended her art, allowing Sophia to use bolder colors,
attempt more abstract drawings, and create beyond previous
boundaries. If he could do that for her, moving to the West Coast
was a small price to pay.

Wrapped in a thick
luxurious towel Sophia combed her wet hair. Droplets of water
rolled down her bare back as she contemplated drying it. She didn’t
like using a hair dryer. It was bad for her hair and used a lot of
energy. But the cold April wind didn’t support wet hair. Smiling,
she thought about her parents and heard her mother’s voice,
“
Don’t go outside with wet hair, you’ll
catch your death of cold
.” At first her
parents may not like the idea of her moving west. But, after she
explained the two homes and her ability to visit while Derek
travels, Sophia anticipated understanding. After all, that’s what
they had always provided -- understanding.

Derek pulled her from her thoughts as he
entered the glass and tile bathroom. “I just went down to the front
desk to pay the bill. It was paid.”

“
I gave them our credit
card.”

“
No.” He shook his head,
“Shedis-tics paid it.”

Sophia smiled, “That’s nice.” Then her
expression darkened, “But weird, how’d they know we were even here?
I mean you didn’t know until last night.”

“
I don’t know.” Derek
smiled, “But man, this company has perks!”

Sophia tried to push the uneasiness away.
Obviously Derek saw this as a positive. She wouldn’t be the one to
bring him down. She smiled, “I guess that means more money for
breakfast.”

Derek encircled her waist, spooned his wife,
smiled into the mirror, and mused, “Mrs. Burke, I don’t think you
can eat that much.”

Sophia removed her phone from her purse as
Derek slipped their car into Boston traffic. The icon indicated
missed calls. She listened to the messages, two from her
mother.

Sophia’s expression said it all, something
was amiss. Derek waited while she listened. Finally he spoke, “What
is it?”

“
It’s my pop. He’s been in
a car accident. Mom thinks he’ll be okay, but I need to
call.”

Derek nodded and reached out to squeeze his
wife’s hand. As he watched her fumble with the screen of her phone,
he changed the direction of the car. No longer were they headed to
the Cape. He turned onto I-84 West. Before Sophia realized where
they were, they were in Connecticut headed toward New York and on
to New Jersey.

“
Thank you. I’ll feel
better seeing him in person.”

“
What
happened?”

“
Mom isn’t sure. She kept
saying,
I was supposed to be with him, I
should have been with him
. She’d stayed
home with a migraine. She’s blaming herself. His car went off the
road near Sourland Mountain Reserve. He’s driven those roads a
million times. The police speculate wet roads caused the accident.”
She turned to her husband’s profile. “You know I’m proud of you and
your new job? But maybe we shouldn’t mention it to them, not
yet.”

Derek nodded, “Your pop will be fine. He has
your mom to look after him.”

Sophia fought her emotion, as tears
moistened her cheeks. “You know, I didn’t think about others. I got
so wrapped up in myself and us.” Her chest heaved, “I never
considered them when thinking about moving to California. If we
were in Santa Clara we couldn’t just jump in a car and be
there.”

“
No, we’d jump on a
plane,” he reassured, “which, considering this traffic, might be
quicker.”

Sophia smiled. “Private planes, right...
something to get used to!” Sighing, she leaned her head against the
seat, watched the world pass-by, and settled in for the five hour
drive.

*****

The gray clouds settled over Princeton,
raining down and draining color from the urban landscape. Sophia
considered drawing the scene, thinking about chalk, she’d need only
black -- devoid of color, the sketch would come to life in shades
of gray.

She liked her hometown of Princeton, New
Jersey. After all, it was where she experienced childhood, learned
to walk, talk, and color outside the lines. And although her
parent’s home wasn’t in the Borough, it was still Princeton, the
home of the acclaimed university.

Sometimes growing up she hated the
prestigious school. It seemed like the entire world revolved around
it. Unlike so many of the locals, she knew in her heart the world
offered more. However, now Sophia was eternally grateful for
Princeton, especially its medical center.

Rubbing her eyes, Sophia yawned. She’d been
in the hospital room, looking out the window, sitting in the
plastic chair, and pacing the linoleum floors for hours. The
monitors beeped at appropriate intervals without alarm; everything
indicated her father’s progress. Sophia just wanted him to open his
eyes.

Derek finally convinced Sophia’s mother,
Silvia, to get some food. It was the first time she’d left Pop’s
room since he returned from surgery. Sophia’s promise to stay near,
allowed Silvia the reassurance to leave, if only for a little
while.

Tears lingered in Sophia’s eyes as she
watched the man who’d always been her rock. Nearing seventy, with
declining stature, he wasn’t any taller than Sophia. Of course,
he’d never been taller than five eight, but with age even that
lessened. Yet, when she closed her eyes, Sophia saw the mountain of
a man who’d scoop her into his arms and put her on his
shoulders.

Throughout the five hour drive, she tried to
convince herself she would arrive to find him sitting up and
swearing at the nurses. The image made her smile. Pop was the
sweetest man, as long as you played by his rules. And when you
didn’t, he was more bark than bite. His contagious deep and
harmonious laughter shook his too large stomach with joy. She
imagined him arguing about the hospital gown, food, or television
stations.

Yet, reality didn’t match
her memories or dreams. The man before her, attached to wires and
tubes, didn’t seem like her father. Nevertheless, the small
bracelet on his wrist read:
Rossi,
Carlo
; confirming he was indeed her
pop.

The rain drops continued to silently pelt
the glass pane. Sophia stared at the view. Instead of trees and
buildings blurred by sheets of unrelenting spring rain, she saw
memories she’d put away, as the saying goes -- for a rainy day. She
saw the hardworking man who came home from work each day. She saw
her mother, wearing an apron in the kitchen, fussing to have dinner
ready precisely by 6 PM. She saw the couple standing proudly and
awkwardly at New York art exhibits and her Paris wedding.

Sophia thought how different she was from
them and how much they’d given her. Instead of fighting her
artistic side, they embraced it. They never belittled her dreams.
Now, standing by her father’s bedside, she wanted to do the same.
She wanted to support them any way she could. Currently, that meant
hours of diligent vigil.

Sophia must have fallen
asleep in the hard plastic chair she’d pulled up next to Carlo’s
bed. She awoke with her head near his feet, her back bent and sore,
to the swish of the door across the linoleum floor. She blinked
away the sleep from her eyes and watched as a nurse entered the
room. The wipe board on the wall read:
Gabby
.

Sophia remained silent as Gabby made her
rounds, checking fluids in the hanging bags and making notes,
reading monitors and making notes, and lifting Carlo’s hand,
feeling his pulse and making notes.