

Abuse is defined as any action that intentionally harms or injures another. There is physical abuse, emotional and psychological abuse, sexual abuse, animal abuse, substance abuse, elder abuse--the list goes on. Physical abuse is the infliction of injury by another person. While fiction, the abuse discussed in this story is primarily psychological and physical. Since we are sexual beings, abuse can also be manifested in sexuality. If you think reading, thinking about or discussing abusive behavior or sexuality, is unchristian, unsafe, unhealthy, or unclean or if you fear you will be triggered adversely, then you probably shouldn't read it.

Revealing the abuse is POWERFUL. All it takes for evil to continue is for good people to do nothing. This story looks closely at that power in two women's lives, how they identified, escaped, and then healed from the abuse and burned the bridges that led to abuse. The abuse specifics have been deliberately written as indirectly as possible to prevent actual scenes of abuse from being misunderstood as entertainment. There is hope that it can be stopped, case by case, but it requires hard work. Resources to get started are listed at the end of the story.
The Song of the Willow

by R. A. Labrenz

Smashwords edition

© 2017 R. A. Labrenz

All rights reserved

**ISBN:** 9781370787722 (eBook)

This is a work of fiction, loosely based on real experiences. Names, characters and incidents have been changed, single characters have been amalgamated, or are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and is beyond the intent of the author.

**Smashwords Edition, License Notes** Thank you for downloading this eBook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. That way my distributor can keep a tally. Thank you for your support.

This book is available in print at most online retailers.

Cover images:

Front cover: iStock Photo ID 170037389 Credit: EMReogan

For Amber, Ann, Becky, Clara, Debi, Nancy, Vicki

### and because of Louie's encouragement

"She was in love, and he she loved proved mad

### And did forsake her: she had a song of 'willow;'

### ...And she died singing it"

Prelude to Desdemona's Song from Othello, 4.3

### by William Shakespeare

Table of Contents

Discloser

Title Page

Dedication

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - Ruby

Chapter 2 - The DeLuca Chefs

Chapter 3 - Vieve with Jim

Chapter 4 - Young Vieve

Chapter 5 - Dysfunctional Group Therapy

Chapter 6 - Charlie and Delores

Chapter 7 - Functional Beginnings

Chapter 8 - Change Requires Courage

Chapter 9 - Anthony and Johnny

Chapter 10 - Jim

Chapter 11 - Escape!

Chapter 12 - Planning Stages

Chapter 13 - Brothers

Chapter 14 - LeVar

Chapter 15 - Creating A Distraction

Chapter 16 - Kelly

Chapter 17 - Ma and Pop DeLuca

Chapter 18 - Vieve's List

Chapter 19 - Captain DeLuca

Chapter 20 - Jim

Chapter 21 - Eleanor

Chapter 22 - The Loft

Chapter 23 - The Accident

Chapter 24 - Rosemary and Sophia

Chapter 25 - Sophia and the Bully

Chapter 26 - Firehouse Tour

Chapter 27 - Salud!

Chapter 28 - Kelly and Vieve

Chapter 29 - Community Party

Chapter 30 - Vieve's Date

Chapter 31 - Anthony's Feelings

Chapter 32 - LeVar's Plans

Chapter 33 - Dr. Paulson

Chapter 34 - LeVar's Stalking

Chapter 35 - Dr. Paulson Revisited

Chapter 36 - Sophia's on the Doorstep again

Chapter 37 - Parent Teacher Conference

Chapter 38 - Tony

Chapter 39 - La Clemenza di Tito

Chapter 40 - Benefit Concert

Chapter 41 - Tony's Announcement

Chapter 42 - The Mayor and the Fire Commissioner

Chapter 43 - First Date

Chapter 44 - Girls' Day

Chapter 45 - The Big "No"

Chapter 46 - Emotions Revealed

Chapter 47 - Gemma's Graduation

Chapter 48 - Joe and Rosemary

Chapter 49 - Vincent

Chapter 50 - The Kids and Vieve

Chapter 51 - Central Park

Chapter 52 - Resolute

Chapter 53 - Male Sexuality Class

Chapter 54 - Joe and Rosemary

Chapter 55 - Gabrielle

Chapter 56 - Zoo Day

Chapter 57 - Anniversary

Chapter 58 - Elliot

Chapter 59 - House Hunting

Chapter 60 - Tantra

Chapter 61 - Soul Mates

Chapter 62 - Slipper Tub

Chapter 63 - Sam

Chapter 64 - Safe!

Chapter 65 - Cellulite

Chapter 66 - Happy Wall

Chapter 67 - Fire!

Chapter 68 - Heroes

Chapter 69 - Haitian Kids

Chapter 70 - ER

Chapter 71 - PR

Chapter 72 - Commissioner's Call

Chapter 73 - Flourishing

About the Author

Lend It To End It - The Gift To End Abuse

Open Letter To My Readers

Resources

Other Books by this Author

Connect with R. A. Labrenz

Chapter 1 - Ruby

"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me;

I am a free human being

with an independent will."

Charlotte Bronté, (1816 – 1855)

English Novelist and Poet, _Jane Eyre_

#

THE short metal door to the green and white travel trailer opened with a dogged _crash!_ against the outside of the trailer wall. Rust fell like dusty, powdered cinnamon that was shaken from a tin, but the young woman who jumped out didn't notice the dust. Her body bent forward and her hands touched the soil.

She was off! Sprinting down the street with determination, she had always been fast and even now her feet carried her with magnificent speed, as they had on the track in high school, always far ahead of the other runners. When her coach had said she flew like the wind she believed him. Her long, strong legs were young and healthy. But she was a sprinter, not a long-distance runner.

She leaped on the porch of a neighbor's house and beat on the door. "Help me! Please!" she begged. Her hands smacked flat against the windows until they rattled. "Call 911!"

The inside of the house went dark. "Go away!" a voice whispered from behind the door. "We don't want no trouble!"

The slippery shadow of a large man came into view against the wall of the porch. Slower, but so much stronger than she was, as she got one leg up over the porch rail and prepared to jump, LeVar Washington's meat hock of a hand grabbed her hair and he slapped his wife with the force of a freight train, propelling her, mid-air, across the porch and down the steps. Her body slammed against the pavement. Her calves and thighs were skinned and burned. He picked her up and slapped her again.

"Don't you never run from me, slut!" LeVar Washington's voice carried this message with intimidation and authority. He was a large, physically powerful man who had realized the respect brutality gave him during elementary school, in the playground. He laughed at the children, and even the adults who scurried away from the path he chose to walk. He knew he was very clever, despite his failing grades. _People respect me_ , he thought.

Ruby Earlene Washington was eighteen and she had been deceived. This was her wedding day. She was a good girl. She tried to please Miz Mayhew, LeVar's mother. She cooked and cleaned while the woman recovered from a broken hip. Miz Mayhew sent Ruby's mother a bus ticket from Lynchburg, Virginia to Dayton, Ohio. It was just a visit, they told her, until the hip healed. LeVar had taken a fancy to Ruby and now she was married to him even though she never said, "I do." She had thought they would live in an apartment, and took some pleasure in that. But after they were married, he took her to the dilapidated travel trailer in the backyard of Miz Mayhew's place. There was no phone, electricity or plumbing. Ruby was a long way from home.

LeVar, fingers still entangled in her hair, dragged her back to the trailer. The door slammed as she was flung across the room. He wedged a chair under the handle. "I am the man. You do what I say, slave! If I tell you to wipe my ass you will do it, strumpet!" he demanded as he unbuttoned his shirt.

_And now he wants to have sex?_ she wondered. Ruby held her jaw and nodded from where she lay. Her nose was bleeding and her lip swelled. She tasted blood where she had bit her tongue. She understood everything very clearly. She understood that she would run away as soon as she could. Maybe she would get a chance to sneak out later tonight.
Chapter 2 - The DeLuca Chefs

"A man loves his sweetheart

the most, his wife the best,

but his mother the longest."

Irish Proverb

"I THINK selling the house is a mistake," Rosemary said to her husband in the fragrant kitchen of their neighborhood restaurant in Columbia Heights, Brooklyn, New York. Her skillful blend of homegrown Italian spices with fresh tomatoes and other vegetables, and splashed with wine melded into a locally famous sauce on the menu. Joe was in charge of that bubbling pot. She tasted the creamy Alfredo sauce and ground some white peppercorns to add zest. Rosemary DeLuca was a pretty woman, in her early sixties, carrying a few extra pounds even though she exercised regularly. She and her husband were creative cooks who designed dishes by taste. She had let her abundant brown hair gray naturally. Her father had been of Russian and Italian descent, and her mother had been Polish. She married Guiseppe DeLuca, Joe, the Italian-American love of her life, four decades ago.

Joe DeLuca kissed her cheek, then tasted his tomato-based sauce and put the other side of the spoon to his wife's mouth. She sniffed, then tasted. "More herbs, she said. "Basil."

He chopped fresh oregano, basil and the tiniest bit of thyme, then showed the cutting board to his wife and when she nodded, he added the chopped herbs to the sauce. He said, "Sweetheart, Anthony and the kids need to move in with us. They practically live with us as it is. Sophia's just a toddler. And they're all so lost." He stirred the red sauce and lingered in the fragrance as the heat released the scent of the additional herbs.

"You know I want the kids," she said. "But houses are so expensive. He should rent it out and keep the place. He'll marry again." As she began to tear lettuces, her eyes searched for onions to slice. "He's still attractive."

"When Anthony finds that nice girl she won't want to live in the house he shared with Katie. Anthony's in a transition. Let him sell it. He doesn't need the hassle of being a landlord with everything else he's trying to juggle. He's got his priorities straight: the kids, then career."

She considered his reasoning, and heaved a sigh. "You're probably right," she said.

Joe patted her face, "Thanks, my beautiful lady," he said. This happiness, what she had with Joe, is what she wanted for her sons—a loving relationship—this good life. Johnny had it with Yolanda, but since Katie had become ill and then died, Anthony was lost.

"We raised good sons," Joe whispered. "Anthony'll be okay. Give him time."

Chapter 3 - Vieve with Jim

"I hate this wretched willow soul

of mine, patiently enduring,

plaited or twisted by other hands."

Karin Boye (1900 – 1941)

Swedish Poet and Novelist

VIEVE Chapman and her family applauded from the bleachers when Sammy received his high school diploma. Learning disabilities had made his life so challenging that Vieve had committed herself to speech therapists, psychologists and specialists from the time he was three. The oldest son, Peter, and his pretty bride, Diane, through smiles and applause, cheered Sammy. This was a noble success. As Jim stood clapping, he saw a woman, about Vieve's age, with silver hair. He nodded in the woman's direction as he nudged his wife. "I don't ever want to see you with gray hair. She makes her husband look old. He looks like he married his mother."

At the restaurant, to celebrate Sammy's success, when the server asked for the drink order and Vieve ordered a glass of house wine, Jim stopped her.

"She'll have a water with lemon. Cancel the wine," he said.

"But, it's a celebration," Vieve sounded more like a plea than what she told herself: That she was simply reasoning with him.

"Too expensive," Jim said flatly.

"No, it's not," Vieve said. "I'm worth $5.00."

"No," Jim said.

Peter was about to say something but Vieve stopped him. "It's not worth it, Peter. Just let it go. Let's enjoy Sammy's accomplishment," she whispered.

Chapter 4 - Young Vieve

"To Those Who Abuse:

The sin is yours,

The crime is yours,

And the shame is yours.

To Those Who Protect The Perpetrators:

Blaming the victims only masks the evil within,

Making you as guilty as those who abuse.

Stand up for the innocent or go down with the rest."

Flora Jessop (1969 –),

American social activist, author and advocate

against abuse of children

Church of Lies, TraumaAndDissociation

www.dissociative-identity-disorder.net

25 years ago

BARELY eighteen, the young blonde trudged up the steps and hid in the shadow of the Vestibule at the Catholic Church. She nervously looked behind her shoulder, twisted her wedding ring, which cut into the skin between her fingers, and then entered the sacred building. A man in a car waited for her outside. To keep himself warm, the car continued running. He was a neighbor, and she had begged him to drive her to this hallowed structure this morning.

As the car had approached the church building, even before she could see it entirely, the campanile, the bell tower, comforted her. This morning the tall architectural element drew her to the church by the sound of its bells. The bells served to call all devout Catholics to prayer and worship.

She opened the large doors that had been designed to be both inspiring and inviting. They drew her heart toward God and her body into the church. Standing in the interior, she sensed a spiritual journey to the heavenly kingdom from the dome. The height forced her eyes upwards, towards the heavens. Three beautiful shafts of light penetrated the interior of the church, like blessings of peace, comfort and reassurance from God himself.

As she passed the font or stoup, she stopped to sprinkle the Holy water on herself, beginning with her forehead. She crossed herself as her lips moved in silent prayer: "By this Holy water and by your Precious Blood, wash away all my sins O Lord." She reminded herself of her baptism, her sins and now her cleansing with Holy water, which made her fit to enter God's house. She was very young, little more than a girl, really. But she knew that her reverent use of the Holy water, with her full faith and desperate contrition, would benefit and protect her. After all, she reasoned, it has power to banish demons, dispel their deceits and vexations, cleanse the soul from the stain of venial sins, avert earthly ills (other than those which God allows for our good), and promotes our temporal welfare.

Once through the narthex doors, she stood in the rear of the main body of the church, called the nave. The congregation sat here. It was a very holy place. Divided into two sections of seating with a central aisle leading to the altar, additional side aisles flanked the nave like a cross. She felt that only God could help her now. Believers are called to His peace. She would always be immensely grateful for His peace. She had fervently longed for it and prayed for it. She stepped forward into one shaft of light, which illuminated her lovely, sad face. One cheek was very red. This morning she had been slapped hard. Her eyes were teary and she sniffled. Long, blonde straight hair framed her pretty features. She was afraid she would have to bear the burden of having made a decision that could never be undone. She feared that she was stuck in an unbearable situation for the rest of her life.

This Church was old and she saw that the building still had the traditional confessional. Before she left home she had tucked the flowing, black, silk scarf around her heavy coat next to her blouse, and now she pulled the fabric up to cover her head and bowed low before the altar. She retired to a pew and bent down on the kneeler, praying, weeping and kissing a crucifix, which was attached to rosary beads. After sufficient time was spent in prayer, and after she heard a priest enter his confessional compartment, she made her way to him, properly covering her ear with her hand to show respect for the sanctity of the confessional. She entered.

"Bless me Father for I have sinned," she began as she rested on the kneeler. "It's been four weeks since my last confession."

"Yes, my child," the priest's voice said through the lattice.

"My sin is that three weeks ago I married a harsh, controlling, unbearable man and I wish to seek an annulment."

"My child, is your husband also Catholic?"

"No Father, he is a member of the Church of God here in Fort Wayne."

"In Reverend Deters' congregation?"

"Yes."

"An annulment can only be reached after many challenges are answered. In fidelity to Jesus' teaching, the Church believes that marriage is a lifelong bond, unless one's spouse has died. The tribunal process must determine if something essential was missing at the moment of consent, that is, at the time of the wedding. Even a marriage to a non-Catholic is valid."

"A divorce then. I can't bear it."

"My dear child, I recommend that you and your husband meet me and Reverend Deters to discuss your unhappy state. Conflict resolution can often be overcome though communication. I'll set up an appointment time."

After the first weeks of their marriage had passed, Jim and Vieve Chapman walked into Jim's Church. Without touching, without making eye contact and without speaking, they each looked for the office to the left of the altar. Reverend Deters and Father Frazier sat in wingback chairs in the paneled office. The Reverend waved them in and motioned for them to sit down.

"So, you want a divorce, Genevieve?" Reverend Deters asked.

"Yes," she said coldly. "Please. I prefer Vieve."

Jim rolled his eyes, shifted his weight in the chair, shook his head and sighed.

"But marriage is forever," Reverend Deters said. "There is a no return policy on marriage."

"Forever," Father Frazier repeated, nodding, approving. "God wants you to remain married. But, it can be very difficult in the beginning. With the difference in your religious upbringing we thought it best to counsel you together." Father Frazier was the complete opposite of Reverend Deters. The priest was fat, with a paunch and jowls that gave Vieve the impression that he was a man whose fleshly desires were never wanting. Reverend Deters was a tall, thin man, with sunken eyes, prominent cheekbones and a chiseled nose. Vieve thought that though he was not ugly, there was something vulture-like in his appearance.

"Smart," Jim said, nodding, all smiles.

"Jim, it would probably be best to talk to you alone, then Vieve alone, and then together. If you would, please wait in the outer chamber, Vieve." the minister directed.

Vieve spoke up, "I think we should both hear what each of us has to say and then listen to the counsel together. That's only fair. Why separate something you wish to bring together?"

The men shook their heads. They both said, "No," with the full authority of their God. She had no choice but to leave. She bit her fingernails, then spit them out. She stood up, walked around the room a few times and chewed on the inside of her cheek. She wondered what Jim was saying about her. She couldn't shield herself or rebut anything without knowing what he said. She couldn't even listen in order to prepare a defense. The situation was supremely unfair. She paced in the small room until Jim came in, all smiles.

Then it was her turn. Vieve asked for Jim to remain with her, but the counselors again said that she should speak to them alone. She expected a prayer. There was none. She poured her heart out to the men. They nodded and encouraged her to continue. She explained that she had been in love with Jim, but never felt love from Jim. She told them about Jim's obsession with all things sexual, the pornography he seemed addicted to was violent and demeaning. It was getting worse and worse. She said that Jim constantly accused her of having affairs with neighbors when he was at work. She explained how his male friends would come to their apartment when they knew he wasn't home, and through the door they told her of their sexual intentions with her. When she told Jim what happened he said that was how guys are. He was never angry with them, but always angry with her. She gave them examples of how he belittled her, both publicly and privately. She cried a little while she told them of the hurts in her heart over Jim's relentless controlling behavior and she didn't even tell them everything. Unspoken barbs remained in her heart because she had no point of reference, no words to articulate her feelings. She reined her confusion in and focused on Father Frazier's voice as he invited Jim back. He and Reverend Deters addressed both of them.

"Genevieve," Reverend Deters began. "My dear. The intimacies of marriage can be overwhelming to a young woman. Jim told us that you were very inexperienced in sexual matters and he was your first intimate experience."

When she nodded, Father Frazier continued, "All men are basically built the same. If you think that you can get a divorce and be with someone who is endowed with better equipment," he chuckled, "you're sadly mistaken."

The Reverend nodded his agreement.

"What?" Vieve asked. This was bizarre.

Father Frazier said, "We know that you object to sex."

"Why would you say such a thing? What did he tell you?" Vieve asked as she threw glances towards Jim. But the men weren't listening. "Wait. What counsel did you give to Jim? How did you help him with his controlling—"

"All taken care of," Reverend Deters interrupted. "Genevieve, Jim loves you very much. You are breaking his heart."

The men continued, without answering her questions. "You know you must continue to satisfy Jim. If you don't, and he leaves or has an affair, God will see it as your sin."

Vieve moved through astonishment, shock and horror for the first time in her sheltered life. She whimpered. "What if I leave or have an affair? Will God see it as Jim's sin? Why is it always my fault?" This was completely bizarre and she felt confused and abandoned by the priest who she trusted and the religion she had devoted herself to. She twisted her leather, fur-lined gloves with severity.

The counselors ignored her questions. "When Jim feels the need to turn to books and magazines, that's just a signal to you that you need to work harder at pleasing him," the Reverend said.

"We have a young wives group that meets weekly. I think you would benefit from joining it. 7:00 P.M. on Wednesdays," Father Frazier said. "In fact, this Wednesday everyone is bringing their favorite wedding picture to share with the group. We can help you with this."

"Is there a young husband's group or men's group?" Vieve asked.

"Not necessary," the priest said. "Jim's already received our guidance. The girls need to be together to help them process."

Later, during the drive home, Jim said, "I liked them. I'm glad you're going to attend those group sessions."

Vieve asked, "Why did you like them?"

"I don't know," he said. "They really listened to me. They helped me understand that living with an emotional basket case like you is really challenging."

When she phoned her parents to beg them to let her come home, it was no use. Her mother said that Vieve had made her own bed and it wasn't their fault that she didn't want to sleep in it. Vieve opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. _It wouldn't matter if I did scream,_ she thought. _No one would hear me._

Vieve continued to pray in front of the large crucifix that she kept in a drawer in the bedroom. She would take it out, set it respectfully on the desk, kneel before it with her black silk scarf over her head and her lips quivering against her rosary. Her faith was all she had and she gripped that faith as if is she was in a mudslide, slipping off a mountain. In time, even her faith would erode from the torrential floods of insensitivity and faulty reasoning.

Chapter 5 - Dysfunctional Group Therapy

"You don't ever have to feel guilty about removing

toxic people from your life...if a person disregards your

feelings, ignores your boundaries, and 'continues'

to treat you in a harmful way, they need to go."

Daniell Koepke

College student, founder

and blogger at

Internal Acceptance Movement (I.A.M.)

THE Wednesday night young wives group was attended by women from ages eighteen to twenty-five. When Vieve walked in, Father Frazier hadn't arrived yet and seven or eight women placed a cherished, framed photo on a table and oohed and ahhed over each other's weddings. Vieve would have refused to bring her wedding picture in even if she had the photographs back from the photographer.

Cherri Anne's pictures showed herself and Wallace kissing under the rose arbor in her Grandmother's backyard. Wallace looked stoned or drunk. Jean stood beside Vieve as Cherri Anne chattered about her picture and why it was her favorite.

Jean caught Vieve's glance and rolled her eyes while she sidled up to Vieve. Jean smirked and said in a low voice, "She tells one tale and lives another." She nodded for Vieve to follow her. The two women moved to a table where soda bottles and ice waited for them. "Two months before that picture was taken, Wallace forced himself on her during a date. She missed her period. She was scared. If her father knew, he would've thrown her out. Then, where would she be? Wallace said he'd marry her as long as she agreed to let her hair grow past her butt."

Vieve whispered. "Did she have the baby?"

"Of course. It's the best way to control a woman: Barefoot and pregnant." Jean had the gaunt, hollow look of a haunted woman and looked forty-four rather than twenty-four. She was an unloved, wretched wreck. "Once she started showing, Wallace wouldn't touch her. He came home in a bad mood almost every evening and he drank way too much. All he wanted was porn. When the baby came he told her she had to stay in the back room with the baby whenever he was home." Jean pulled Vieve to the side and dropped her voice. "He didn't want 'the brat' (his words, not mine) to bother him. She was like a prisoner in her own home. He acts like a single guy who happens to be married. Sooner or later you're going to realize that the one common thread in this group is we've all got husbands who are unbearably controlling and selfish. They are married to wives who actually care about what God thinks of us. Do you think that's coincidental? I don't. They went looking for girls like us, deliberately. They never call us 'women', didya notice? They should be in therapy." She shrugged her shoulders. "But, it's a man's world. Even these major religions condone what they do to us. They tell us this is God's path, but I'm not buying that."

"Now she's stuck," Vieve muttered. "Like me."

"Yeah."

Father Frazier came in, made some polite chatter with the prettiest of the women, and the young wives took their seats. Folding chairs were neatly arranged in a circle. Within three minutes it became evident that the women were an emotional mess. Wide-eyed and teary, they hugged each other and Cherri Anne held hands with a woman, also in her early twenties, named Patty, who was as smothering as a boa constrictor. Reverend Deters came in a few minutes later. Women took their turns and Vieve wondered what they expected her to say when the time came for her to speak.

As Cherri Anne talked, in her whiney, nasal voice, no one identified the warning signs. No one brought to her attention that by the time the baby was two months old, Cherri Anne was used to the cycles of silence and neglect. Or that she confused neglect with periods of calm, which she misinterpreted as Wallace and she finally "getting it" or "working things out" or some other counterfeit resolution. She dreaded his outbursts and demands. She tried to adjust her behavior and her attitude so Wallace wouldn't blame her. She believed the things her husband said about her were true. They had to be true or he wouldn't have said them. Sometimes the baby did cry too much. There were times when the dishes didn't get washed or when she could have managed her time better. Of course, Wallace wasn't happy whenever she gained a few pounds—he weighed her every morning. He wanted her to be pretty. All men wanted to be proud of their wives. When he told her she couldn't possibly manage without him, she knew it was true.

Patty was next. She blamed herself for feeling depressed and wanting to leave her Ned. She said that sex had been an issue and she was trying to experiment and be open to new ideas. She didn't say that the new ideas her Ned wanted were things that frightened her. She didn't tell anyone that she didn't like to wake up with Ned being on top of her, fully penetrating her or that she felt humiliated when he forced her to kneel and then he pissed on her. She didn't say that Ned wanted to pour hot melted wax into her vagina or that he would pull away before an ejaculation, so he could squirt his semen in her face. She didn't have the words to describe her feelings about that. He watched porn and masturbated whether she was in the room or not, and whether he was drinking or not. She had a hard time talking about sexual things and couldn't find a basis for beginning a conversation about her feelings.

Then it was Vieve's turn. "I'm not here to save my marriage. I hate the way Jim makes me feel. If it weren't for the fact that I believe in the sanctity of marriage and my vows, that God is watching and that He will judge me for my actions, I'd have left already."

The women were silent. Patty coughed.

"Can't you just live like room mates and try to get used to being together?" Cherri Anne asked. "When Wallace asked me to stay in the room with the baby, it wasn't so bad. It was better for us to do that than separate."

Vieve did not feel the need to comment on Cheri Anne's advice, but she continued. "I loved him so much, before we were married. Now I don't even like Jim. I feel like I'm being forced to choose between being me or some other person and I've only been married for a few weeks," Vieve said. She may as well have been speaking to a room full of mannequins. Father Frazier was no help. He just nodded and smiled at everyone. She wondered if he was even listening.

"I know what you mean," a woman named Frances said to the group. "But when I started pleasing Adam things got so much better. I had to..."

Jean was married to Rick. She spoke up next. "Rick told me that he was Gay. Actively Gay. He leaves on Friday evening and doesn't come home until early Monday morning. He doesn't want to get a divorce. He said having a wife was good for his career because Fort Wayne is so conservative. He even wants children. I'm afraid that he will build a new life with a lover right on top of my ruined life if I stay. What he does makes him unfaithful to me. It's grounds for a divorce."

Father Frazier said, "My dear, you cannot divorce him. He's not really being unfaithful with another woman."

Jean said, "I don't care if he's having sex with another man or a woman or a sheep. He's not being true or faithful to me. I have grounds."

Father Frazier said, "No Jean. Don't rationalize your way out of this marriage. You want to keep yourself in a place where God can bless you."

Vieve had no patience for this group. She could see that nothing good would come out of it because the injustices committed by the husbands were all sanctioned by the Churches. But Vieve continued attending, for a while at least, because she had no friends, no job, and no life outside of Jim's world. All her friends and family were in Chicago and she was stuck in Fort Wayne. At least this got her out of the apartment. She quickly tired of all of the women being made to feel guilty if they all didn't do what they were supposed to do. The counselors said that if they left their marriages, the hand of Divine retribution would send every one of them straight to Hell to roast and toast forever and ever. The feelings and sensibilities of these confused, scared women were shut with massive, heavy gates to be opened with mechanical iron gears, masquerading as righteousness. Those gears would rust and corrode the self-worth of these women even more over time. Vieve felt that she didn't matter to anyone. She stopped praying to the crucifix. Her faith in her religion had grieved her horribly.

Soon the group labeled Vieve and she got the reputation of being critical, demanding and entirely overbearing. She heard Patty tell Jean "no wonder they have problems. Jim is a doll. I went to high school with him. Great guys always seem to be married to such bitches." She continued going inside, after Jim dropped her off. She would connect with Jean and they would walk or have a cup of coffee together at the Drug store on the corner, then return to the group just before Jim would pick Vieve up.

It had never occurred to Vieve that Jim confused her by taking her to parties and being charming to neighbors and his old friends. Or, that he really had some very good qualities, which is why she was attracted to him in the first place. She ignored that he was a loner because her inexperience reminded her that no one is perfect. Later —much, much later—Vieve would recognize Jim's inability to connect with others as a symptom of a terrible, insidious disease. His was a sickness that perpetuated faulty reasoning and leaped from a mind that contained the sprouted seeds of an emotionally gangrenous choice: Utter selfishness.

Six months later, Vieve was pregnant. Elliot, who had taken her to the Church that day, transferred to San Diego. He was her only friend and neighbor, beside the moments she had with Jean. For the time being, Vieve still argued with Jim over the same old issues. Jim never slapped her again because she stood up to him. Most payback came through neglect and passive-aggressive behaviors, like throwing away her possessions when she wasn't looking, not introducing her to people he spoke to, not including her in conversations with others, belittling her in public or humiliating her privately. When she would bring it up he'd laugh and say, "can't you take a joke," or, "you are way too sensitive," or, "what an imagination."

Just before they left Fort Wayne, very pregnant Vieve bumped into Jean at a church rummage sale, an event Jim allowed her to attend.

"I was just hanging around until I got the opportunity to leave that crazy, strange life," Jean said. "I had to move in with this guy, 'cause I've got no money and no where to go. He's stoned a lot, but so far, he's got a job and he's paying the rent. I'm in school. I figure education is the only way out of this for me." She looked at Vieve's baby bump and raised her eyebrows.

"I'm glad I'm having a baby. Focusing on it will help me to cope. I'll have someone wonderful to love and who will love me back."

"Oh, I really hope so," Jean said and then managed a little chuckle.

Jean told Vieve that Whitney left Steve and had slept with at least twenty guys during the next few months. "Looking for love, I guess," she commented. And hadn't she heard the news? Two weeks ago, Cherri Anne and her husband were playing cards with neighbors, he humiliated her and she went in the bedroom, opened her mouth and shot herself with a revolver. Her parents were fighting for custody of the baby. Then there was Patty who finally found the courage to speak about her feelings and told Father Frazier that she was moving out because she was scared. The priest had insisted that she must remain with Ned or receive God's condemnation. She went back to Ned at the priest's urging, and two days later her husband came home early, found her packing a suitcase and killed her. He drove her dead body around in his pickup truck and visited the places she loved. Then he went to the movies. Earlier that day Patty phoned her folks, and was crying when she told them that she would be there by 8 PM. When she didn't arrive, her father called the police. Her family was primed to get at least a life sentence for Ned.

"That priest," Jean shook her head as she pretended to admire newborn outfits. "He's a man. He thinks like a man. We should have been speaking to an experienced, older woman, or group of women, who understood us and could advocate for us. Or people with professional training. It's sad," Jean said.

In years to come, when Vieve would tell her therapist about these experiences, Dr. Paulson in New York would say, "The first step in getting things back on track is to understand the meaning of a codependent relationship. It's when you find yourself dependent on approval from someone else for your self-worth and identity. One key sign is when your sense of purpose in life is woven into making extreme sacrifices to satisfy your partner's needs. That's what those women, all of you, were doing."

Dr. Paulson would sigh, shake his head and say, "Codependent relationships signify a degree of unhealthy clinginess, where one person doesn't have self-sufficiency or autonomy. Those religious leaders were encouraging you to be codependent to your faith, and not think for yourself. They were defining you as rebellious and wanting to be independent from God, rather than listening to your objections over being psychologically abused. That's why self-sufficiency, not feeling the necessity to desperately hang on to a partner, or being limited in an untruthful belief, is an important step to personal fulfillment."

He would also explain, "The end of a relationship with an abusive narcissist is the most dangerous time for an abuse victim. She should never be alone with her partner then. Women need to know that information, for their safety. But, it's also compassionate towards the abuser. We know the dangers and the narcissist shouldn't be set up to fail. There was nothing loving or wise about the advice of that counsel all of you were given." He shook his head and muttered, "The fact that they acted as if they had answers, when they didn't know what they were doing, well, it's absolutely shameful. I just can't believe that they were that ignorant."

Chapter 6 - Charlie and Delores

"Women are repeatedly accused

of taking things personally.

I cannot see any other honest

way of taking them."

Marya Mannes (1904 – 1990)

American Author, Social Critic, Satirist

2 years ago

CHARLIE and Delores Henderson were from Dayton, Ohio originally. Both were Psychologists who specialized in Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), and both were also very compassionate people. Neither allowed for nonsense from their patients. They had practiced in Manhattan but felt impelled to pursue a dream: opening a shelter for abused women and their children, especially those living in poverty, providing them with safety, education in both marketable skills and in understanding the abuse. And it was fast track education. Charlie was a grant-winning researcher and he and his wife were published authors with a series of books about abuse: identifying it, escaping from it, and life after abuse. For their techniques and philosophies, they had just received a grant that was substantial enough to propel them into some really important work. They sold their Manhattan practice and their New York residence, which gave them enough cash to pursue the dream.

Since Delores and Charlie were both from Dayton, and they had maintained connections there, when the school building in Cincinnati became available at the same time their grant was awarded, they knew it was time to pursue their dream. So many women needed help. They called their non-profit organization "First Step" Shelter and their motto was "Don't allow your wounds to transform you into someone you are not," taken from Paulo Coelo, the Brazilian lyricist and novelist. Several posters around the building reminded their residents of that. On the risers of the outside concrete steps that led to the front door, they painted in large white letters:

You don't

have to see

the whole staircase,

just take the

FIRST STEP

An elementary school building that had been closed a few years ago, but was very sound structurally, was chosen for their home base. Two stories above an English-style basement near the Mariemont neighborhood in Cincinnati, the brick building was substantial and suitable. Outside was a place for a flower and vegetable garden. The swings, slides, climbing bars and teeter-totters were near the garden area. They were half a block from the bus line and close to the University. Volunteers replaced a few toilet stalls with shower stalls in both the girls' and boys' bathrooms in the basement, several washers and dryers and other tools for laundering were added, and broken glass panes and missing shingles were replaced. The kitchen and cafeteria, also in the basement, was functional, clean and turned out to be very useful. Some classrooms were divided into private bedrooms for the families, others became public areas where television watching from rocking chairs, and a library of books, games and DVDs helped occupy the children. The homey, peaceful atmosphere relaxed the residents.

The week before they opened, the Henderson's asked their neighbor, Genevieve Chapman, who had been a zealous volunteer, if she would work there. "The salary is low not because it's a non-profit foundation," Charlie said. "We set it up as a 501 (c)(3), and I don't believe that non-profits should expect to get high-quality employees for a low salary. I just didn't do this part of my homework for the grant very well," he apologized. "We'll make the adjustments as soon as possible. We'll need six months of successful operations to do so."

Genevieve, who everyone called "Vieve," said. "I'm delighted!"

Delores was her friend, her neighbor and now her professional colleague. For Vieve, the social closeness of the relationships was not only delicious, but also nutritious, like feeding a starving person.

Jim, Vieve's husband, was appalled. "You should know better," he told her. "If you want to work, Jesus! With your CV you could get five times that salary. That's what P & G would pay you." With Jim, it was always about the money first, then the status. He told her that her entire paycheck would be placed in a 401(k) and other investments. She didn't need the money. He gave her enough to operate the household. Over the years, and with distance learning and grants, she had managed to get a BA in Fine Art, and Jim used her as his assistant for important projects. Because of her, the projects he turned in were exceptional.

Charlie and Delores also provided annual in-house or in-service training for the staff. Ethel Mayer, a very round, jolly woman, was the RN on staff with thirty years of experience in Urgent Care and Psychiatric Nursing. Vieve filled the Administrator / Public Relations Director function. Forest Kettering was a sixty-two-year old retired Police officer who became the Security Counselor and Amy Priggins offered pro bono Legal Counsel, on site every Monday afternoon. Tracy Kulaski, a former elementary school teacher, who had married a wealthy man whose own mother had escaped an abusive relationship, filled in to administer the school curriculum, which was set up like an old-fashioned one-room school house for K-8 grades, for the victim's children. Her husband served on the Board of Trustees and was a huge supporter. Vieve learned a lot about image and perception from Matt Kulaski.

Charlie and Delores made it very clear to residents that this was no charity. Every resident was expected to work inside, providing useful services, or worked part-time outside, at approved local businesses. They all maintained a structured schedule. The program was eight weeks long, with a graduation for the residents and new candidates were evaluated on the basis of a formula Delores and Charlie devised when practicing privately. With five terms per year, two months during the summer would be time-out for vacations, recharging, off-site professional continuing education, more grant writing, tweaking the program, in-service training, major repairs and building maintenance, etc.

Charlie and Delores had found common denominators for women who were successful in escaping abusive relationships and in building new lives. The victory lay in the victim's attitude, their honesty with themselves and their willingness to learn what had propelled them into an abusive relationship in the first place. Then, the injured party learned how to avoid falling into that snare again. They talked a lot about victim identity, cognitive dissonance and limiting beliefs.

The program gave each woman 90 minutes of daily group therapy and everyone, even the children, took anger management classes. Parenting sessions were also required. Many of these women were coming from poverty, so they had no skills. To remedy this, they learned about computers, customer service, data entry, filing and library systems, record keeping, typing, or food service, along with speaking and writing better English. Those with a propensity for the English language could take self-paced classes for medical or legal terminology on the computer. Everything was designed to help them succeed. Poverty and lack of education had been a terrible enemy to them. The goal was to help between one hundred and fifty to two hundred women each year to succeed in the residency program.

Since abuse is a plague that crossed the boundaries of poverty, First Step Shelter also saw its share of educated women who were not shelter residents, and certainly not victims of poverty. These women took evening classes and received professional counseling services. Bank Presidents, Corporate Vice Presidents and other women of means who occupied mid- to high-levels of corporations were also abused and afraid of their husbands and domestic partners.

Charlie conducted this class. His opening words to this group of women were, "Psychological abuse and emotional abuse is when your partner's behavior and words are designed to degrade or humiliate you by attacking your value as a person. You are made to feel stupid. You end up feeling alone and unimportant. It can range from verbal abuse: yelling, blaming, shaming, and name-calling, to isolation, intimidation, and threats. Your values are dismissed. He thinks you deserve to be humiliated. Because no hitting is involved, you don't have a name for the behavior that makes you feel "stupid," or, "less than", in his presence. The subtle put-downs, the physical avoidance, the mocking, are his tools."

He looked into desperate female faces. They were dressed in power suits or other expensive ensembles. "Emotional abuse can be subtle. If your partner gives you a wide berth in your home, as if he doesn't want to catch your disease," Charlie put his hands up and carefully stepped around one of the women, as if it was necessary to avoid any chance of making contact with her, "you've experienced emotional abuse."

One woman nodded knowingly. She said, "It makes you feel awful."

"Exactly, he wants you to feel awful," Charlie echoed. "Or, if you're walking together on the sidewalk, he'll cross the street without you, and then call you desperate, needy, and too sensitive when you mention it. Perhaps your partner is prone to lashing out verbally at the slightest provocation. Of course, he wasn't like that when you first became friends. He pushes your buttons and blows up over the smallest things. And you keep thinking he'll be happier if he gets the right job, if you tried a little harder, if this or that occurs. You are always trying desperately to find the answer. You walk on eggshells all the time, and you don't understand the rules, because they always change to suit him, but you never win anyway, you are always wrong. You don't like how you feel each day, but remember: You wouldn't consider him to be abusive, because he hasn't hit you."

He leaned against his teacher's speaker stand and looked at his student's faces. They were hopeful. He went on, "In time, this tiptoeing around can devastate a woman. You feel anxious, fatigued, and depressed. You feel so guilty and you think it's all your fault. Just the thought of leaving the relationship can add a layer of guilt and shame to the pile of already negative emotions you've been carrying around."

"It is hard to believe," he continued, "but there are people in our lives who don't want us to change. Or, they want us to change as long as it doesn't require them to change too. On some level, we are aware of these things happening. Sometimes it is very obvious when loved ones resist our change and other times it happens as passive aggressive undercurrent to our interactions. We don't like to upset our loved ones and so there is a part of us that will resist taking action because we know that our changing is going to affect others.

"Are you avoiding taking action because you are afraid your success is going to "harm" a loved one or a relationship? When you move forward it is going to bring attention to the fact that others are choosing not to move forward. You don't want to make other people's lives harder, or hurt people you love. But, you know you really need to move forward. You have goals, after all. But you don't control the emotional state of others. If they choose to be bent out of shape because of your choices, well, that is up to them. You can't let their feelings hold you back from your success. Give yourself permission to move forward.

"Your goals aren't going to happen on their own. You need to take action. Even if you just make some written affirmations and state them for 3 minutes every morning you will see a difference. That's right, just taking the 3 minutes will help you remove resistance to change. You will take one more step towards your goals."

Charlie's words were a good beginning. The women felt safe here. The goal was to educate two- to three-hundred women each year, in evening classes twice a week for a month, so they could make informed decisions and move forward, safely, with their lives. Charlie always told them, "When you change the rules, and say 'No', your entire life will change. Our mission is to prepare you for those changes."

Additionally, the Shelter provided "supervised visitation" services, where counselors became familiar with the contract that a judge or a facilitator had worked out between the parents. The counselors then attended the parent's (often the father's) visitation with their children. They remained in the room, in the background, and listened to conversations and provided advocacy. The moment any father breeched the contract, the visit was over. Security was called and the father had to leave. The revenues received from these non-residential programs helped keep the shelter open.

Vieve's new job proved beneficial for her. This cloud of personal psychological abuse was clearing, like sunshine after a lengthy, destructive storm. She was beginning to see the horizon, where the dawn was clear and the colors were beautiful. An exquisite, peaceful day was promised.

Vieve, a pretty and pleasant woman, was delighted with her job even though her degree was in Art. She was 25 years away from Father Frazier's workshop for new wives, which was now just a blurry memory to her. The abuse the residents at First Step Shelter spoke of was worse than what had been revealed at Father Frazier's workshop. One woman had spoken of the warm, affectionate and attentive manner in which her second husband had courted her. She wept when she said, "Right after we were married I realized that he wanted me to get to my six-year old son."

Delores wisely counseled her, "You are not defined by your circumstances." Those words became the group's mantra.

Unfortunately, Vieve continued to be affected by rage, resentment, and frustration from her own horrid experience. She had endured a loveless marriage, with emotional abuse, for twenty-five years.

As part of her orientation Charlie and Delores required that all staff invest three days at the beginning of their professional life at First Step Shelter, as if they were an abuse victim. Vieve sat in on one complete round of Charlie's evening classes. When that was finished she also spent three consecutive nights there, living with the poverty-stricken physical abuse victims and their children. She cheerfully and hungrily completed this, even though Jim had a lot to say about that. She devoured every little piece of information she could find and listened carefully to professional discussions. She learned to meditate and set her intentions daily. She was especially interested in the group therapy sessions. Delores Henderson, Charlie's wife and partner, conducted them and she began the introduction to the therapy this way:

"We're all here because of domestic abuse. The worst thing you can develop, in terms of your health, happiness, and deepest values, is an identity as a victim. Victim identity destroys personal power and undermines the sense of self. It makes you falsely identify with damage done to you or with bad things that have happened to you. Over and over again, when women live with resentful, angry, or emotionally abusive partners they tell me they don't like the person they've become. Injured people get easily stuck in victim identity. If you find yourself saying 'things like this always happen to me,' or 'I always attract men like that,' we're going to blow-up and set fire that bridge."

At this the new residents agreed and nodded. She leaned against a chair and continued:

"You have left the abuse. You've survived it. Now you are going to work on overcoming victim identity through a strong identification with your inherent strengths, talents, skills, feminine power, and appreciation of yourself as a unique, ever-growing, capable, and empathetic person. We'll be focusing on building your core values. Because of living with an abusive person, you know that your relationship has put thorns in your heart. You don't need a description of the thorns to know how much they hurt. You need to learn how to take them out and heal the wounds in ways that prevent permanent scarring. Is there anyone here who doesn't deserve to heal and grow?" she asked.

Again, residents voiced their feelings.

"I've heard some of you say, 'Why does this always happen to me?' What's wrong with that thinking?" she asked.

Ruby Washington, a young mother in the group, raised her hand and commented. "That's just puttin' more blame on yourself. I don't know, but I'm wore out from having people blame me. And bad things don't _alway_ s happen. Maybe we made a bad choice. Or, sometimes we was in the wrong place."

"Does anyone agree or disagree with her?" Delores asked.

There was a short discussion.

"Excellent, Ruby. You have a good understanding of this. We'll be having more discussions like this. We have ground rules here, so let's go over them as a group, because this was in the contract you made with us. You've lived in a life that has surrounded you with negative attitudes. If something triggers you and you start feeling aggressive or passive, and you can't shake it, please see Dr. Charlie or me. Sometimes you will feel that you want to obstruct or rebel against complying with expectations in your relationships here or in work situations. Behaviors like displaying helplessness, putting things off, being stubborn or resentful, being sullen, or deliberate or repeated failure to accomplish assigned tasks for which you are responsible, won't work here. Again, talk to Dr. Charlie or me. We want you to succeed. We do not accept residents here who do little to get what they want because it is too much effort. Some of us will do anything to be liked, or we avoid making waves and rarely say what we feel. That's not good. We're going to spend some real time on this and work hard to get mentally healthy. That's a key to your success when you are finished and away from here. As you become your authentic self, you will take the power others have over you away from them and rest it squarely on yourself. It's quite amazing."

She smiled and continued, "Fairness and justice tell you that your abusive partner ought to be the one to make changes—he needs the therapy, right? But, where is he? If he really wanted to get help, he would. You are here and you are in pain. Your pain tells you that you need to become the person you are meant to be. There are two things that we must relearn here. First, that pain is not a punishment. Pain motivates you to heal, to improve yourself, and to protect yourself. This means that you have to remove the focus from your partner and put it directly on yourself. It doesn't matter the way he acts. He can be all crazy and macho. That's the way he is. It's not you.

"We've all heard that we should love our neighbor as ourselves. When you love yourself, it leads to a deeper compassion for your resentful, angry, or abusive partner. With that compassion, you will appreciate the enormous harm he does to himself when he hurts you. You will come to demand reasonable behavior towards yourself and you will no longer tolerate any resentful, angry, or abusive behavior from anyone."

She glanced at the women's faces to read their reactions. Twenty-one women were in this group. Some held babies. One woman's arm was in a sling, two others wore a neck brace. There were several freshly bruised faces.

Delores continued, "The second thing that you need to relearn is concerning your perceptions about failure. For heaven's sake, don't be afraid to fail. Everyone fails. We learn through our mistakes. It's part of the learning process." Delores looked at the women and smiled, "We have sixty days and a lot of hard work ahead of us. Are we ready to start growing into the strong, powerful, talented and compassionate women we know we are?"

The residents applauded. Vieve found the three orientation days to be life changing. They even watched a documentary about modern day slavery and discussed how immigrant children were especially at risk. Delores and Charlie, together, led a discussion of how these refugees became victims and asked the residents to compare them to themselves. They had a lot in common.

Chapter 7 - Functional Beginnings

"One of my favorite sayings is 'You get what

you tolerate.' This applies in spades to your

relationships. Failing to speak up about

something carries the implication that you

are OK with it—that you are prepared to

continue tolerating it. As a companion saying

goes, 'Silence means consent.' If you tolerate

snide or offensive remarks from your boss

or colleague, the remarks will continue. If you

tolerate your spouse's lack of consideration

for your feelings, it will continue. If you

tolerate the disregard of people who regularly

turn up late for meetings or social engagements,

they will continue to keep you cooling your heels.

If you tolerate your child's lack of respect,

you will continue to get no respect. Each time

you tolerate a behavior, you are subtly teaching

that person that it is OK to treat you that way."

Margie Warrell, _Find Your Courage!_

Executive Life Coach, Women's advocate,

Author, _Forbes_ contributor

NOT long after the orientation, when Vieve was building and populating First Step Shelter's database, she realized the psychological and emotional abuse that had traumatized her. The events had begun when she was a girl and she hadn't shaken them yet. She had entered the questions that Delores and Charlie prepared so that when clients came to the Shelter, their answers were analyzed so the type of abuse they had suffered, the depth of their trauma, and the resources that would be available to them were quickly identified. Those questions and answers also provided data for their continuing grants. In all, working on the data base really triggered a lot for Genevieve. The realization was so sudden and overwhelming that she had a melt down in Charlie's office.

Through tears Vieve said to Charlie and Delores, "I've tried and tried, but emotionally it's all the same. I expected there to be some shift in me, but there wasn't any." Vieve was shaking.

Charlie came over from his desk and sat on the chair opposite her. Delores held her hand as the two women sat on the sofa.

Delores said, "It's as if you have a CD of Willie Nelson in your subconscious. As you identify something here or there that you want to change, you go to the subconscious and you want to tune into something else. But all you have is Willie Nelson. You ask your subconscious to play something different, maybe some Mozart or Tony Bennett, but all you get is Willie Nelson because that's all that is recorded in your subconscious. That's where a good psychologist or even an EFT Energy Psychology practitioner who understands Reframing can help you. They can teach you new skills, new tools, to help you change the CD, the voice in your head, to something else. They help eliminate the painful emotions from unresolved traumatic memories."

Delores and Charlie weren't surprised at Vieve's meltdown. Being the Chapman's neighbors, both of them had noticed that Jim, Vieve's husband, had narcissistic and abusive personality traits. He was very clever with mechanical things, a visual thinker. He was charming to everyone but his wife. This was deliberate on his part. This gave him a basis so he could show her that everyone else had no problems with him, when she objected about his treatment of her. Everyone who responded positively to him helped him prove her wrong. After all, she was an emotional basket case. She had been from the start. His credibility was absolutely his highest priority. While no one wants to appear foolish when mistakes are made, reasonable people temper this with good sense and good humor. But the kind of absolute credibility Jim demanded, with the spotlight always shining favorably on him, was a red flag to a seasoned mental health professional. They had seen Jim take every opportunity to put Vieve down or make jokes at her expense because narcissists lack empathy. Charlie helped Vieve to see that it's one of the most striking features of the personality disorder.

"You know, whenever I have a narcissist in here, sitting in the chair in front of my desk, they can't seem to keep from touching and even rearranging the things on my desk that are near them," Charlie said as he scratched his neck. "They seem to need to get into my personal space."

Delores hugged the weeping woman and explained, "Honey, narcissists do not consider the pain they inflict on others and they don't accept another persons' perceptions, because they do not care about thoughts or feelings that contradict their own. So, do not expect him to listen to you, or to validate, to understand or to support you. You can only make changes to yourself, and for yourself."

Charlie explained what narcissists look like, how to identify them. He said, "They adapt so that they appear thoughtful and concerned about others, but it's fake. They learn it because they have a need to fit in socially, but for them it's not a social skill, it's more academic, as if they know they should react that way, but they only have feelings of selfishness, not compassion. It's been said that they know the lyrics but can't hear the emotional melody of a relationship."

Delores added, "It's often the way they get what they want from people."

At first Vieve felt shocked, even outraged. Then, in the days ahead, she felt hurt and betrayed. Charlie said she was grieving over the death of a relationship that she had pinned her hopes and dreams to. Still, Vieve recognized her meltdown as an eye-opening incident that helped her acknowledge the truth: Jim was an abuser masquerading as a decent, respectable man. Her efforts as a loving wife helped others to regard him respectably, but some saw through the mask and felt sorry for her.

As painful as this was, she no longer felt the confusion of the push-pull, press your buttons kind of connection and control Jim had over her. Finally, the whole Jim Chapman relationship made sense to her and she was done with him. Since she began working, she had seen changes in him that made her afraid of him. She felt like the Universe was smiling upon her while she began to plan her escape.

When Vieve let herself think about her discussions with Charlie and Delores, and those data base questions that started it all, she asked herself: How does a man earn the status of a beloved or even a decent husband? What does a good husband look like in behavior and speech? She contemplated this and lingered on answers that the really decent men her life had provided: To anyone who is a threat to his marriage or family he is a force to be reckoned with. He provides for his wife and family. If he finds no satisfaction in his job, he still finds great satisfaction in his family. His children respect him and seek his counsel; his wife thinks he is wonderful, even though he is not perfect.

Vieve realized: _I need to heal myself and dwell on this so I will recognize a decent man if I meet one who is ever interested in me. But I need to fix myself first._

Chapter 8 - Change Requires Courage

"Sometimes the people you'd take a bullet

for are the ones behind the trigger."

Amy Rees Anderson

Entrepreneur, angel investor, public

speaker, mentor, and philanthropist,

contributor to Forbes

KNOWING your enemy is a chief strategy in warfare. Most neighbors and acquaintances of Jim and Vieve Chapman thought Jim and Vieve were a very normal, successful couple. After all, their house was lovely and one of the few homes in the neighborhood that had a three-car garage. Only her closest friends knew that Vieve had been engaged in a long, exhausting conflict that had become a twenty-five-year war.

Now that she found some strength and had enough of her wits, she decided to change the venue. This meant that she was establishing her own terms based on her value of herself. Still, it was a new and very scary thought. Vieve stood in the shower and let the steamy water wash over her and sooth her body while she considered new directions. Since last October, she had been running with Delores Henderson, and the exercise and her job at the Women's Shelter, made her feel stronger. Prettier. She turned the faucet off with newfound decisiveness and smiled to herself. Vieve grabbed a white, thirsty towel and stepped out of the shower. Jim was shaving.

"I don't want to go next week," he said as she dried off. He watched her reflection in the mirror.

"The company needs you. You are so diplomatic in these situations," Vieve said carefully in a voice as smooth as soft butter. "At least it's just a two-day trip."

Vieve would always remember that Jim looked at her at this moment with lecherous eyes. Eyes which she did not want to have focused on her body because he wasn't worthy. It was difficult, but she hid her disgust and quickly got dressed.

"Yeah. The weekend is supposed to rain," he said with disappointment as she covered up. "I wanted to ride the Harley. You need to pick up my shirts and dry cleaning. And make more of my cereal."

"Sure," she smiled and contemplated her plan to leave, to escape safely. This is going to be the toughest fight I've ever known, she thought. She was grateful their two sons, Peter and Sammy, were grown and gone.

Chapter 9 - Anthony and Johnny

"Brothers and sisters are as

close as hands and feet."

Vietnamese Proverb

"IT feels so good to be taking you home," Anthony said to his brother as the physical therapist pushed the wheelchair into the hospital pickup zone.

"Amen to that," Yolanda, Johnny's wife ran ahead to open the car door.

The therapist locked the brakes on the wheelchair and Johnny groaned and winced as he lifted himself into the car's seat on the passenger side. "I've got a lot of therapy to do still," Johnny said.

"Mmm, but you are a strong, healthy guy." The therapist replied as she watched Anthony kiss his brother's hair. "PT will come to your house a couple of times each week. You can do it, fella. Best of luck," she waved.

As they settled in the car, Yolanda phoned the restaurant and Anthony asked, "Are you okay, bro?"

Johnny nodded. He gave a little wave when the therapist turned to glance behind her. "She liked you Anth. The therapist. She really liked you."

Anthony started the car. "Yeah? She seems nice. I'm not ready."

"I'm not asking you to marry her. Just take her out to dinner. You've gotta start somewhere."

"Don't push him, babe," Yolanda said from the back seat. "Honey, there are a few friends from the force and the kids and your folks are all at the restaurant. If we can stop there first, they just want to wish you well, okay?"

"Yeah. Sure." Johnny replied. "Katie still in your dreams?" he dropped his voice as he asked Anthony the question. Yolanda continued to speak on the phone.

Anthony nodded and turned the corner. When he came to a stop sign, he managed a weak smile. Johnny punched Anthony's arm very gently.

"You'll be okay Anth. We both need some more time to heal. I get that."

Chapter 10 - Jim

"Dark paths are sometimes the

way to the light of bliss..."

Erica Jong (1942 –) _Becoming Light_

American author, teacher, poet

A LIMO pulled up to the northern Cincinnati suburban neighborhood and found the brick house with the three-car garage and the perfect, weed-free lawn. They drove away with the executive at 6:30 AM. The woman of the house, in a robe and slippers, waved goodbye, then once she shut the door she ran to the upstairs Master bedroom and grabbed an empty boot box from the closet. She opened the medicine cabinet, then the nightstand drawer and pulled out every birth control foam, gel and condom they possessed and dumped it all in the empty shoebox. She smirked. The box was nearly overflowing. Today there was trash removal and she hurried outside in her robe and left the box at the curb as the trash truck drove up.

Back inside, she crumpled a receipt from AAA Travel, just a little, and threw it on the bare floor of the coat closet in the hallway. It would be a diversion. She had a little jewelry, a couple of credit cards in her name, some cash, and an easily liquidated whole life insurance policy of $10,000—which were all at her desk at work, hidden from Jim.

She had worked for a year at the First Step Shelter and there she found her courage. She went upstairs to her closet, put on her favorite pair of jeans, a black Hard Rock Café London tee shirt, a blazer, some jewelry and loafers. It may have just as well been combat fatigues. She felt like G I Jane as she poured her remaining jewelry from her jewelry box, a large floor standing model, in a gallon-sized plastic bag, then threw it, some art supplies, a travel easel, clothing and personal things in two suitcases, and tucked her cello in the case, wrapped it in plastic and strapped it to the roof of her car.

When she started her car and began to drive away, she never looked back. Not even in the rear-view mirror. If she had to leave everything behind, that was the way it had to be. She had her life and her future. She had her wits. It would be enough. Genevieve Sloan Chapman pretended to go to work, but escaped from her husband instead.

The circumstances that led to her escape had not been immediately forthcoming to Vieve. Over time, and with the Henderson's help, she had learned that silent victims were common among women, because emotional or psychological abuse leaves no visible scars. Her confusion and inability to verbally express herself to others, was because there was no point of reference to even begin a conversation about her feelings or concerning what has been done to her. When a victim is battered, she has a point of reference, visible injuries, bruises and broken bones, and no one questions her story. Not so with emotional or psychological abuse. It's too easy to dismiss the victim as "an emotional basket case." She had so many emotional scars that she became emotionally numb in order to survive.

When Vieve reviewed her life, she always began with her husband, Jim, though recently she realized that it started with her guilt-ridden mother. Jim was an elegant looking man, with a thick shock of wavy hair and piercing blue-gray eyes. He was trim, dressed well and, if the truth were known, he was terribly vain. He was proud of himself for providing well. He knew he was great at sex because Vieve quickly responded to him with multiple orgasms. He was gifted with an amazing understanding of mechanical things, and he could be charming. He was none of the things the founders of the shelter, Charlie and Delores Henderson were. Survival depended on Jim's natural caginess. Like a cougar lying on the high rocks with wary eyes fixed on his prey, feigning lack of interest, tail twitching, Jim was always ready to pounce on Vieve and toy with her feelings until his mood changed from mildly amused to bitter, or silent for days or weeks. Often, others don't recognize neglect as abusive, but a wife and children are not equipped to be ignored; however, they will flourish when they are valued and cherished.

Because of Jim's natural balance he instinctively excelled at the sports that required equilibrium: snow and water skiing, tennis, figure skating and the like. He tenaciously stuck to his sports and would never try his hand at anything requiring an aim or use of words or mental acuity. He certainly wouldn't look good if he tried and failed. Jim Chapman never appeared to be less than his perfect image of himself would allow. Those were things Vieve hadn't let herself realize because Vieve had kept avoiding the choices she had always been free to make. That was how her personal _resistance_ manifested.

Years ago, early on in her marriage, when she had spoken up about things that bothered her, everyone had sided with Jim. Because that was unbearably painful, Vieve had stopped telling anyone what Jim was really like, and no one, except Elliot, her neighbor at the time, seemed interested anyway. Likely it was because Elliot has heard her body slam against the wall when Jim slapped her. And he heard her slam a two-by-four into the wall, missing Jim, to defend herself. When she told her family, they said she should stop whining. She had little choice but to sue for peace and to become as much of what Jim had wanted in a wife as she could bear. She had children to raise, thank God! It got her mind off the other issues. Being a mother was something she cherished and she was good at. Loving her children was her reason to live.

She learned to walk on eggshells around Jim. She had lost her identity and her personal power, and she didn't stop to think about all of that until recently. Answers to the big questions can come from anywhere when you're ready. Who would have thought that populating the database would force her attention on the subject? Just when she was ready.

Chapter 11 - Escape!

"The worst kind of hurt is betrayal

because it means that someone

was willing to hurt you just to

make themselves feel better."

Unknown author

IN the old schoolhouse, now women's shelter, Ruby coughed and then sneezed because she inhaled too quickly after she sprayed the window with the ammonia solution. She stood on the windowsill and reached for the top panes with the clean rags. LeVar, Jr. quietly looked at a picture book and sat next to his sister, LeVara who slept in her infant carrier. When Vieve pulled up outside, Ruby watched the woman open the back hatch and remove a box of books. That's when Ruby saw the suitcases and the cello. By the time Vieve walked up the steps, Ruby was at her side with the children. Ruby whispered, "We won't be no bother." Her big brown eyes were oh so hopeful.

Vieve looked at Ruby's pretty face and considered the options. She set the box in Charlie's office and walked to her desk. She reached under the wide desk drawer in the middle of the piece of furniture. Tugging hard, she pulled on the envelope that contained her credit cards, passport, marriage license, power of attorney, social security card, birth certificate and other important documentation. She had placed everything in a large, white envelope and taped it under the top of her desk drawer when she first decided to escape. Ruby was right behind with her kids, waiting for Vieve's answer.

Vieve remembered the day she met Ruby several weeks before. Ruby had successfully left LeVar Washington three years ago, shortly after LeVar, Jr. was born. She stayed in a Women's shelter in Dayton, worked in housekeeping at the Holiday Inn and found housing in a government-subsidized apartment with thin walls and thinner flooring. She was even able to divorce LeVar, but a restraining order couldn't prevent him from stalking her.

One night, on her way home from work, he chased her, caught her, slammed her to the floor, stuffed her panties in her mouth and raped her in the stairwell of her apartment. Her subsequent pregnancy, which produced LeVara, proved his credibility when he boasted about her situation to workmates and neighbors who had frowned and disapproved when they heard that he was a wife beater. When the pregnancy became undeniable, he knew it was damning evidence against Ruby, and proved that everything he had said about her had been right all along. She was a slut and that was why he had to hit her. The best Ruby could do was get a restraining order, which provided little benefit. She knew that to be really safe she would have to escape Ohio. She was afraid he was going to kill her.

Vieve asked, "How soon can you be ready?"

"We be ready now," Ruby said. She held her six-month old baby girl and little three-year old LeVar, Jr. had his jacket on. Ruby was always tidying and cleaning, so naturally they were all immaculate. A volunteer put an infant seat and a child restraint for the car at Ruby's feet. Financially, Ruby had absolutely nothing—even less than Vieve, and two small children who depended entirely on her. Ruby had more courage and a different perspective than Vieve. It was a simple decision. They needed each other.

"Let me bring in my cello to make some room. It's okay, I'll get someone to ship it or to bring it to me," Vieve told Ruby.

They had driven nearly an hour and were well outside of Cincinnati, approaching Chillicothe, when Vieve asked, "How did you know?"

"I seen the look on your face and the wheels turning in your mind these past weeks," Ruby said. "When you live in a cage with a mean animal you're gonna get eaten. You and me, we got that same empty, scared look in our eyes. I been a-seekin' safety. This is for my babies."

Vieve considered Ruby's perceptions. Ruby always knew LeVar had been abusive, which was more than Vieve realized about Jim. But she had to factor the physical abuse versus the emotional abuse into the formula. Vieve found herself admiring this young woman who was the same age as her newly married son, Peter.

After some time in the car, Ruby asked, "Where we going?"

"New York City," Vieve said.

"Why New York City?"

"Because we can become instantly anonymous in a big city and there is more opportunity for all of us there. I'm glad we're in this together Ruby," Vieve said.

"Me too," the young woman nodded. "You scared?"

"I think I'm more excited than anything," Vieve said as she tapped her wedding ring and finger on the steering wheel.

"Yeah," Ruby pondered. She sighed, "Anything is better than that back there."

Vieve looked in the rear-view mirror at the sleeping children. "We can do this Ruby," she said. "I am finally ready."

Ruby said nothing, but for the first time in the weeks that she had known Ruby, Vieve watched the young woman smile. She was beautiful when she smiled. Her flawless complexion was the color of dark chocolate. Her teeth were perfect and white. Large dark eyes had an almost Asian quality about them. Her neck and fingers were long and elegant. This young mother's grace and confidence put Vieve in mind of royalty from an exotic place and time. Ruby could have been the daughter of a king: Noble, smart and strong.

Vieve handed Ruby a shoebox of CD's and said, "Here. Please decide what you want to listen to."

Ruby selected one and put it in the external CD player that sat in a cubby under the dashboard. They laughed over the title and Vieve started humming. Ruby sang softly. By the time they hit the Pennsylvania turnpike Ruby was crooning to the music with an effortlessly smooth, soothing contralto voice. Vieve thought of Desdemona's Willow Song from Othello, which she had heard at the Chicago Conservatory of Music when she was a girl.

Just before they crossed into Pennsylvania, Vieve purchased a new cell phone and gave the company two hundred dollars to prepay the account. She gave them Kelly's address as her billing address. Anyone with caller ID would see an Ohio area code. She made her first call to her home and left a message on the voice mail.

She glanced at the clock in the store. By now Jim would still be compulsively calling home and he'd be out of control with anger because she wasn't there. He'd have called her at the shelter and someone would tell him that she stopped by this morning, but didn't feel well and took a sick day. They all thought she was at home or maybe she went to the doctor's office.

_It served him right,_ she thought. He had taken away the cell phone Peter had bought her and was using it himself. He told her she didn't need one.

"Let's get out for a few minutes and let LeVar, Jr. run some energy off," Vieve said to Ruby as she pulled the car into a small park. Ruby spread a blanket out for LeVara to lie on and kick. The baby's little arms and chubby legs worked and stretched and erratically pumped in the fresh country air, warmed by the springtime sunshine. Vieve showed LeVar, Jr. how to pretend he was an airplane. Ruby laughed as she watched them run on the new green grass, arms outstretched, motors running. As LeVar, Jr. grew tired, he became quieter and he collected sweet smelling purple violets on a south-facing slope. Vieve came to Ruby and reclined on one side of the blanket.

"See that magnificent tree, Ruby?" Vieve asked as she pointed to a mature Wisconsin Weeping Willow tree. Swollen buds that were about to burst open gave the tree a golden glow. It grew near a pond and the long, gilded branches reflected in the pool's mirror-like surface. A warm, gentle breeze rippled the water and the reflection quivered.

Vieve continued, "When I was a girl, my father took some willow twigs and cut them on an angle." She held her two hands up to show the length of the twigs, between twelve and sixteen inches long. "We took them to a Mill Pond bank and he threw them across the water where they jabbed into the soft earth. Now forty years later, those twigs are magnificent trees." They contemplated the tree and the memory in silence.

Ruby said, "My Granny, when she wanted to root a rosebush, she'd take some switches from a willow tree and soak 'em in a bucket of water for 'bout a week. Then she would take them willow switches out and put the cuttings of the roses in that water. They always rooted. She even used that there willow water on her transplants."

Vieve said, "My father's mother gave me a little rocker that was hand carved from willow wood. And willow makes beautiful baskets. It's a fascinating tree. We can be that strong and resourceful Ruby," Vieve said as she looked at the tree. "We can be that magnificent."

Ruby scrunched up her eyebrows.

Vieve continued, "One mistake the planters of willow trees make is that the trees are so vigorous they try to grow anywhere. I've made that mistake. I've been scared of Jim and disagreed with him for years. It was like I, the willow," she pointed at herself, "was planted in the wrong place, Jim's yard outside his house. I became a weed for him. Like a willow's roots can cause problems if it's planted near a water line or well or septic tank. He was always trying to hack off my roots until I was afraid he was going to do something that would permanently damage me."

Ruby nodded and Vieve continued. "Nobody's hacking at us anymore."

"One thing is sure. We are in for surprises." The way Ruby said those words and then smiled at the thought made Vieve feel happy. The words and sentiment behind them were positive and hopeful.

"What do you want to accomplish in the next year?" Vieve asked.

As Ruby pondered the question she looked at the cold blue sky. She breathed and filled herself with clean air and fresh prospects for the future. "I gotta get me some training in health care. I wanna be respected and have my very own friends. I wanna be safe and raise my babies to have good lives."

Vieve nodded. "You've already got my respect."

Ruby smiled, "And I got me a good friend in you, Miss Vieve."

"First lesson: If a person calls you Mrs. Washington, then address them formally too. But when a person calls you Ruby, call them by their first name. Please, call me Vieve."

Ruby smiled. "What do you want in the next year, Vieve?" Ruby asked.

"I want to get the mess in my head straight. I want to live a healthy life. And I want my friends to respect me and treat me with honor."

"With what you been through, do you even like men anymore?" Ruby asked.

"Fair question," Vieve said. She paused and drew in a breath to center herself. Delores had taught everyone at the shelter how to take a moment to access the authentic self and check-in periodically. "Yes. Yes, I do. Because I've seen what good decent men are like. Did you get to know Dr. Charlie at all?"

"Just a bit."

"He is a kind, tender and reasonable man. I had a meltdown in his office a while back. He helped me to understand what a decent man is like. They are the ones who would dig ditches and shovel manure if that was required to feed and shelter, not just themselves, but those who depend on them, some of who they brought into the world. Decent men are responsible. They help their children get the gum out of their hair and lovingly care for elderly parents. When they give comfort, it feels kind and caring. They are respected because they are respectable. Decent men get a lot of satisfaction in seeing their children smile, hearing them laugh, nuzzling their babies, enjoying the love light from their wives' eyes. They live up to their promises to love, honor and cherish their wife."

"LeVar never done none of those things," Ruby stated as a matter-of-fact. "He could beat the life near out of me and he still thought I should make him look good to others, speak well of him and all."

The two women contemplated that thought in silence for a few minutes. Ruby shook her head slowly.

When the foursome felt refreshed enough to continue their journey, they didn't stop until after seven and had dinner at a Denny's, then stayed at a Y just inside Philadelphia. After breakfast, on Tuesday morning, they began their drive to their goal like Muhammad ascending a mountain.

Vieve watched airplanes flying overhead and wondered if Jim was on one of them. The situation was ironic. He was flying home from New York and she was fleeing to New York.

"Okay Ruby," Vieve said as she saw the cityscape in the distance. "This is an event that we want to always remember. That requires music. You have the honor to pick out something appropriate so we can sing our way into New York City. It will be our victory song."

Ruby showed Vieve a CD cover. "Perfect," Vieve said. They sang their hearts out until they got to Brooklyn. Then they parked the car and walked to the shelter. That night Ruby sang softly as she nursed LeVara. Vieve rocked LeVar, Jr. to sleep with the sound of his mother's beautiful contralto voice soaring like a swallow. It was Freedom, Liberation and Release. They were hidden among 8.4 million people like four straws in a hayloft, secure in anonymity.

It seemed a holy rite of passage.

Chapter 12 - Planning Stages

"I began to have an idea of my life, not as the slow

shaping of achievement to fit my preconceived

purposes, but as the gradual discovery and

growth of a purpose which I did not know."

Joanna Field, pseudonym for

Marion Milner (1900 – 1998)

English psychologist and pioneer

of introspective journaling

ONE day last week, when Jim left for work, Vieve had sought the counsel of Baxter O'Keefe, a formidable female attorney who had the reputation of being a barracuda when estranged wives were forced into the storm of domestic upheaval. O'Keefe's office was not like most law offices. No old leather, heavy wood, or traditional colors here. Magazines like O, the Oprah magazine; Psychology Today; Parents; and Women's Day were available. The secretary had a baby in a playpen. This was a female-friendly place. Baxter O'Keefe was the best Family Law / Divorce attorney in the Tri-State area. Vieve went for the best because now her decisions favored herself rather than Jim.

After Vieve told the woman her predicament, the attorney responded, "Mrs. Chapman. This is Ohio. You should have done this when you lived in Virginia. The laws are more favorable towards women in Virginia than they are in Ohio."

"Why?" Vieve asked.

"Long story short: Ohio is an industrial state. Industries have had highly paid executives who have been mostly men. They have employed lobbyists who work in the executive's interests. Over the years the lobbyists have gotten laws passed that are generous towards the executive and not favorable towards a woman with emancipated children. Here, once you are gone for a year, your husband could say you abandoned him and he would likely get everything."

"I'm stunned," Vieve said.

"Women like you who follow their husbands through corporate moves should be speaking to an attorney in each state, the one they live in and the one they are moving to. They should find out what they stand to lose if their husbands leave them or make their lives so miserable that they feel forced to leave, in each state. Otherwise they could be shafted, like you might be."

"Recommendations if the worst happens?"

Baxter took a deep breath and sighed. "How long has his treatment of you been unbearable?"

"About three years."

"And you say you left him before?"

"Yes, twice," Vieve replied.

O'Keefe shook her head. "I guarantee that three years ago, as your youngest son grew closer to legal age, your husband got legal advice regarding your marriage and he found out what a good position he was in, here in Ohio. That's why his behavior has become so brazen. He has nothing to lose." She cleared her throat. "That's also why he turned down a company move back to Virginia. He's a heartless, selfish SOB. My recommendation is that if you leave, you should retain your Ohio residency. Don't get an out-of-state driver's license. That will buy you a little time to be certain about what you want to do."

"Okay," Vieve said.

"Then, when 11 months are up, if you haven't reconciled, get in touch with me. You'll have to make a decision before you've been gone for 12 consecutive months, otherwise he would win everything by claiming abandonment." The woman paused, "You mentioned you would seek a legal separation if it comes to that. Why?"

Vieve said, "You said it would protect me. I still believe marriage to be sacred, a vow before God and witnesses. I could never break that vow."

"If I were your husband's attorney, upon receiving the notice that you were seeking a legal separation, I would counsel him to get a divorce."

"If that's his decision, so be it."

O'Keefe paused and then asked, "Does he have a boat, motorcycle or a sports car?"

"A Jaguar, a Harley and a sailboat."

"They always seem to have at least one expensive toy." Baxter raised her eyebrows. "I want you to consider taking back your maiden name or even changing your name if he seeks a divorce. I'm not advising you to do it. Just want to disclose everything. My retainer is $2,000 and you can pay me the balance when you sell your home and get your half of the property. A divorce will cost in the range of $8,000 to $15,000, probably."

"Thank you," Vieve rose to leave and shook the woman's hand.

"You're welcome. Mrs. Chapman, do you realize you aren't crazy?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"He's gas lighted you."

"I know."

"Please, don't be quick to return to him. Be absolutely certain about your decision. Good-bye and good luck," she said.

"Good-bye," Vieve said as she left the office. Part of her was trembling and another part of her was relieved.

Chapter 13 - Brothers

"Help your brother's boat across, and

your own will reach the shore."

Hindu Proverb

"OH God!" Johnny grabbed his thigh. "It'll pass," he winced with pain.

"Here. Sit down," Anthony offered a chair.

"The PT said I need to stretch out the scar tissue." Johnny massaged his thigh and then his collarbone and clavicle. "It's better now. Thanks."

"You don't know what it's like, seeing you right after you got shot." Anthony's voice broke as he remembered.

Johnny nodded.

"No. You don't have an older brother. I've loved you, looked up to you, been immensely proud of you," Anthony said, sniffing a bit. "At the same time, I've been mad at you, jealous of you...God! Having a big brother is an emotional roller coaster."

The men laughed a little.

"You've always been my hero." Anthony cleared his throat. "I was so scared when I got the call. Now I'm just grateful that you've retired from the force."

"So was Yolanda," Johnny said in his gravelly, deep voice. "And Ma. But," he hesitated with a pause that meant he was searching for the right words. "I don't think you understand. Anth, just knowing that you were in my life—I knew if the worst happened, you'd be there for Yolanda and Jo-Jo. Always."

Anthony nodded as he watched Johnny's eyes. They were brothers, family. Both tall men, Johnny, 6' 5" stood taller than Anthony who was about 6' 3". Johnny's hair was darker, nearly black, and his voice was much deeper.

Anthony rubbed his hand against his cheeks and chin as he stretched his neck. "I'm thinking about growing a beard. Short and trimmed around the sides and neck, so it won't interfere with a seal. Whaddya say?"

"Yeah. You should do it."

Chapter 14 - LeVar

"A man who chronically mistreats you

is a terrible source of information

about who you are. His vision is too

distorted, too self-centered, and too

self-serving to have any useful clarity.

Especially when the subject is you.

To put it concisely: It is impossible for

a man to see a woman clearly while he is

CONTROLLING HER, ABUSING

HER, OR CHEATING ON HER."

Unknown author

ON Friday morning, LeVar Washington was released from the University of Cincinnati Hospital Psych Floor. Except for some of the meds, he hated being there with all the crazies. Ruby had him put there because she said he was stalking her and threatened to kill her and kidnap the children. She said she wanted him out of her life and if it took the police taking him to the psych unit, at least she could be safe for five days, and it would be worth it to her. When he hit the street, his first thought was that he had to get to every damn Women's Shelter to find Ruby and his kids. That strumpet had never seen payback like he was going to give her. She deserved it for making him look bad to his friends and family. Psych Floor, what was that whore thinking?

Chapter 15 - Creating A Distraction

"However difficult life may seem, there is

always something you can do and succeed at."

Stephen Hawking (1942 -)

English Theoretical Physicist

AFTER seeing Baxter O'Keeffe, Vieve walked in to the AAA store and asked a man who worked there about the exchange rate for the UK and inquired about updating her passport picture. She had watched from the car and when he left for lunch, she took off her blue sweater, which revealed a white tee-shirt, pulled her hair in a ponytail, went back inside and picked up a Florida map, trip itinerary to Jacksonville and Orlando and travel guides from a woman who worked there.

There was no need to go to the bank. Jim had been controlling the money from the beginning. Through her work at the shelter, Vieve realized that they hadn't been like a normal couple who jointly decided to divide tasks up by who was best suited for the job. That would have been healthy and reasonable. Emotional abuse is defined as behavior and language designed to degrade or humiliate someone by attacking their self-value or personality. Jim made her feel as though she was too stupid to understand the intricacies of finances. After mustering courage from working at the shelter, she got two credit cards in her name and her statements were sent to her at Kelly's address, so he wouldn't see these in the mail. Those cards were at the shelter, safe in case Jim riffled thorough her stuff. She had caught him going through the trash, bit by bit, on several occasions, and through her purse, more often.

That weekend, the last days she would be with Jim, had been difficult for Vieve. On one hand, she felt almost giddy in the new-found power of her clandestine plans, but on the other hand, she needed to seem unchanged. She tried to steer clear of Jim, in case a word or a sigh or the way she held her head would give away her secret, but there was no avoiding him over the weekend.

Vieve watched, from the corner of her eye, Jim Chapman, the man Vieve slept next to, bore two children for, laundered, cooked, cleaned and shared every other detail of her life with for the past twenty-five years. Vieve would later say that those years seemed spent in a daze. She thought, _Jim is the last man on earth that I would marry today_. But "Why did this happen?" clearly wasn't the right question, because it did happen.

Vieve had recently realized that loving Jim was never going to fix Jim, which had been a new and painful reality to her. You can only fix or change yourself. Vieve worked hard, tried to be a good wife and mother—but there was an insensitivity to Jim that she couldn't reach and it frightened Vieve. Especially lately did Jim terrify her. He wanted to slap her during sex and he spoke of more demeaning punishments for her that he thought would be fun. He was acting dreadfully mentally disturbed again.

Later, in sessions with Dr. Paulson, the psychologist would describe Jim as "a sick monster."

Chapter 16 - Kelly

"Courage is the price that Life

exacts for granting peace."

Amelia Earhart (1898 – 1937)

American Aviator

LAST week, Vieve phoned Kelly to say she was going to get away for a while. "Can I use your address for any new accounts I open, and have you hold my mail and forward it to me when I figure things out?"

"Absolutely," Kelly offered. "Auntie Vieve, good luck," Kelly said. "I love you."

"You don't know how much I value that. I love you too," Vieve said and hung up the receiver.

Chapter 17 - Ma and Pop DeLuca

"Children become spoiled when we

substitute 'presents' for 'presence'."

"Children spell Love as T-I-M-E"

Dr. Anthony Witham

ANTHONY chatted with his Mother and the kids and helped her clear the table after supper. Dishwasher loaded, he took his mother's hand and led her into the living room. He sat on the sofa with her. His Dad had been reading the _New York Times_ while relaxing in his recliner, but now he folded the paper. Rosemary picked up one of his shirts that needed a button sewn on. She put her reading specs on and jiggled the button jar, looking for a suitable match. "Ma. Pop. I need to talk to you. I'm just gonna be direct. You are spoiling the kids."

"Love never spoiled a child," Rosemary said as she pinched a white thread between her front teeth and then pushed the flattened, stiff thread tip though the eye of a needle.

"Since Katie died," Anthony began as he rubbed his temples, "I know you wanna make up for the loss they've suffered, but you let the kids get away with too much."

"But—" Rosemary began.

"No, sweetheart," Joe said firmly. "He's right. It isn't good to let them not clean their rooms or make their beds. Gabrielle and Sophia need to learn how to do laundry and how to sew a button on—so does Vincent for that matter; they all need to know how to cook. Vincent can help with taking out the trash and sweeping the front walk and some chores at the restaurant. The girls can help clear the table after supper, rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher and fold laundry. I'm just as guilty as you are."

"Look Ma," Anthony said softly. "I don't think I could ever show you how much I appreciate you and what you and Pop have done for us. We've needed you so much. Especially you, Ma. You've been wonderful with the kids. I don't wanna be alone forever. I may have to wait until the kids are grown and gone. But, if not, three kids are gonna be a challenge for any woman who comes to live in our household. I just wanna be certain they are three well-behaved kids." He bent forward to take her hand. "Even if you don't agree. Please do this for me." When she nodded, her son smiled and kissed her hand. "Thanks Ma."

Chapter 18 - Vieve's List

"I should have loved myself with the love I gave to you.

I should have told myself the encouraging things

I told you when you were most vulnerable.

I should have given myself the same

chances that I gave to you.

And I didn't."

Erin Pierce

Unwritten

erinpierce.pressfolios.com

VIEVE was feeling stronger, more centered. She began to make a list of what she decided she wanted if Life offered her another life partner. She came up with:

  1. He will be strong in character, emotionally intelligent, good at what he does for a living—which would help him be confident, and supportive, even proud, of my successes.

  2. He will be a source of strength when I need it, and a nurturing, protective place for me to turn to when life gets hard.

  3. He will be decisive. When he has a plan, he will communicate well, so I know what's going on in his heart and I know how I can support him.

  4. He might lightheartedly and affectionately tease me, because our relationship will be fun and adventurous, but he won't play games with my feelings.

  5. He will sweep me off my feet and make me feel adored. I will trust him implicitly because he will earn my trust and my respect.

  6. We will have mind-blowing sex.

  7. It will be easy to recognize goodness and decency in him.

  8. He will be my soft place to land. Not someone who runs and hides and padlocks me out, emotionally, when there's a little character building work that needs to be done.

  9. He will be consistent emotionally. I'll know where I stand. I won't be kept guessing.

  10. He won't be afraid of his feelings or of sharing them with me.

  11. He will protect my heart.

In the months ahead, Vieve considered her list with confidence. She knew that God and the Universe were calling her to Peace and that there was an abundance of that quality. She was a little surprised that her meditation brought up how she longed for the warmth of a family and to make her own contributions to benefit it. She finally trusted herself.

Life would unfold and bring challenges and she would reach for the good.

_I deserve that_ , Vieve thought. _It's time._

Chapter 19 - Captain DeLuca

"I truly believe that everything

that we do and everyone that

we meet is put in our path for a

purpose. There are no accidents;

we're all teachers – if we're willing to pay

attention to the lessons we learn, trust

our positive instincts and not be afraid

to take risks or wait for some miracle

to come knocking at our door."

Marla Gibbs (1931 –)

American actress, comedienne, singer,

writer and producer

CAPTAIN Anthony DeLuca, FDNY, Engine 205 Ladder 118, Middagh Street Firehouse, in Columbia Heights hated to have to call a good man like Chris on the carpet. He contemplated what to say to the young man when he appeared in his office. Just a few years ago Chris had been excited about the prospects of becoming a firefighter and Anthony had mentored him, even advising him to check his cockiness at the door, before his Oral Interview began. Today, Anthony knew he could not allow Chris's intolerance of a fellow firefighter to continue, however minor the guys considered it. Anthony wanted to be reasonable about the whole thing.

Chris McPherson, Katie's baby brother, walked into the man's office overflowing with the self-assurance that only a youthful lack of perception possesses. Anthony motioned to the seat and did not ask Chris to shut the door. If anyone were hanging out near earshot it would be useful for them to hear the discussion.

"I'm disappointed," Anthony said. "I thought you'd rise to the challenges of having a female firefighter on our team."

"What did she say about me, Captain?" Chris was immediately defensive.

"She said nothing about your narrow mindedness towards her," Anthony said firmly. "I wouldn't allow things to get that out of control. You know better Chris," he shook his head. "Especially in this day and age."

"Women are not physically equipped to handle the strenuous job of firefighting," Chris said firmly. He was going to challenge the Captain on this.

Anthony didn't mind an objection, as long as mutual respect was shown. "Lifting people and heavy equipment generally requires good technique and determination rather than brute strength," Anthony said. "You are a public servant, you must always maintain a good image. Like it or not we are judged by our words and our behavior. You may have integrity, but if you act like a jackass it hurts us all. You need to get your brain around treating Ann with respect. There have been generations of firefighters who preceded us. They left a long legacy of positive public image that we reap the benefits of. This is a big reason why firefighters are so well respected. As a firefighter, you need to carry that torch."

Anthony watched the young man's expression as he continued. "I don't like to lecture you Chris. You know that. But, I'm going to have to insist that you treat Ann with respect and honor her as a professional colleague, the same as she honors you. Or, are you gonna be the guy who is remembered for acting like a jerk about this?"

"No, sir," Chris said quietly.

"Good. Another thing," Anthony said. He leaned back and relaxed. "We need to raise funds to have our roof repaired. Hell," he bent forward and dropped his voice, "the damn thing needs major work. I've always admired your enterprising nature. Can you figure out a fund-raising event that will bring in the needed money? You don't have to answer now, but if you'd noodle it around for a week or two maybe we could come up with something."

"Yes, Captain," Chris said.

"Thanks. You're dismissed," Anthony replied as he stroked his neatly trimmed beard.

Johnny was right. The beard suited him.

Chapter 20 - Jim

"Behavior is a mirror in which

everyone displays his own image."

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

(1749 – 1832)

German writer and statesman

JIM was up all-night Monday, calling home every ten minutes. By 2:00 AM he had canceled his trip and was booked on the Tuesday 5:34 AM flight back to Cincinnati. He had never been so angry in his life.

When Jim got home he made a beeline for Charlie and Delores Henderson's home. He banged on their back door, swore impatiently and didn't apologize for interrupting their breakfast. He demanded to know where Vieve was.

"We don't know," they said honestly. "She took a sick day yesterday." The concern they showed, while honest, was not as much for Jim Chapman, as it was for Vieve. This was a volatile period in Vieve's and Jim's relationship. Jim could snap completely.

Jim drove to the shelter and her colleagues said that Vieve had showed up for a few minutes yesterday in the morning and taken a sick day. No one told him anything because they had been well trained by Delores Henderson concerning matters of confidentiality. They had all dealt with abusive stalkers before. And, they had been quick to hide her cello.

Back at his house, Jim stormed and stomped. He opened doors and drawers and slammed them shut. Then he saw it. A small piece of paper, just a cash register tape, that was on the floor in the coat closet. He laughed. It was so insignificant. Dated from last Friday the receipt was machine stamped from the AAA store. He ran to the car and drove as fast as he could, jaws and fists clenched. When he showed the sales lady the receipt and a picture of his wife the woman confirmed that Vieve was there on Friday, had purchased a travel money card and had picked up a map of Florida and some information about Orlando. She printed out the trip itinerary Vieve had requested and gave him a copy.

Jim went home and called the police. Two officers, Roberta Harris and her partner Ed Vickers, responded. When Harris asked if anything had disappeared, Jim said just a few clothes, art supplies, and her cello. Jim showed them the trip itinerary to Florida and the traveler's checks receipt. Harris asked if Jim played the piano. Jim said his wife was the musician. While Officer Vickers questioned Jim Chapman, Officer Harris noticed a letter in an unsealed envelope on the mantel. She put latex gloves on and, after getting Jim's permission, opened the letter and held it for him to read. It said:

Jim darling—

I'm following your advice to take a little time to get away. I'll call you on Wednesday if I'm not back by the time you get home. Please think about joining me for a romantic weekend.

Love,

V.

"V?" Officer Harris asked. "I thought her name is Genevieve?"

"She prefers to be called Vieve," he explained nervously.

"Are there any messages on your voice mail?" Officer Vickers asked.

Still holding the letter, he walked to his phone and punched a button to recover voice mail.

"Mrs. Chapman, the library book you requested is now in," was the first message.

The second was Vieve, "Hi, darling. I hope you're retrieving these messages while you're on your trip. You were right about me taking some time while you were away. I'm just going to drive, paint and sketch along the way and I'll be back before you know it. Did you get the note I left on the mantel? We could have a second honeymoon. Corpus Christi is beautiful this time of year. Love you! Bye," a cheerful, sexy Vieve Chapman's voice said.

"Well there you have it," Office Vickers said. "Your wife will probably call you tonight." The police left a humiliated, frustrated man behind them.

Jim went back to the AAA store. He knew he'd missed something. Again, he passed Vieve's picture around and this time a man told him he waited on his wife on Friday. She had made inquiries about a trip to England. Jim slammed his hand down on the counter. He was furious. Jim Chapman did not like to look foolish.

Chapter 21 - Eleanor

"With fools, there is no companionship.

Rather than to live with men who are

selfish, vain, quarrelsome, and obstinate,

let a man walk alone."

Buddha (483 BC – 563 BC)

Leader

A COUPLE of nights at the Y was almost too much for Vieve. She couldn't sleep and she didn't feel safe or clean. A woman with wild eyes and wilder hair stared at her and spoke what sounded like another language, but someone said it was gibberish, which unsettled Vieve even more. One woman, coughed incessantly all night. Another, in her mid-fifties with hair like Medusa, followed Vieve everywhere and when Vieve moved to her bed, the woman hung around outside the door. She watched every move of Vieve's, every expression. Vieve tried to be gentle, but the woman was completely uncommunicative and the experience was very unsettling. Walls were paper-thin. Even with the Henderson's excellent training and her experience at the shelter, enough was definitely enough.

First thing in the morning, she looked at a pop-up map of the city. She had purchased the map at a drug store and tried to get her geographic directions, boroughs and neighborhoods straight. A hands-on perspective was what was needed, so she rose early and power-walked through Columbia Heights just after dawn. Then she walked and rode subways through Brooklyn and found herself back in Columbia Heights in the early afternoon. That proved serendipitous.

The sun glittered on the gold lettered scrollwork, which announced _Cinnamon's_ on the window and door of the shop. Seeing the place was filled with health foods and supplements, Vieve walked in and began speaking to the woman at the counter. The woman wore a brown sari with gold and beige trim over a beige shirt. It was the kind of shirt that that looked like a tee shirt, but was cut short and showed the midriff. The woman had red hair and her skin was creamy. She was stunning.

"I feel like I need a good multi-vitamin," Vieve said. "Can you recommend something?"

"I've just started carrying these," the woman pointed to a row of bottles. "I began taking them myself two months ago, and I've noticed a difference. But let me give you some samples and try it for yourself before you buy it."

Vieve agreed, accepting seven packets. Each contained three green capsules.

"Just take all three first thing in the morning with your breakfast. You've got enough here for a week. Let me know what happens." She spoke with an unexpected Southern accent. "I'm Eleanor Meadows."

"Vieve Sloan." She used her maiden name, for the first time. "Your skin is beautiful. Is it a great product you've discovered or just genetics?"

"I think it's both," Eleanor said and laughed. She turned to retrieve a package of lotion and a bottle of toner and handed them to Vieve.

"Oh. Okay," Vieve began as she read the ingredients on the label. I've been under a lot of stress for the past few years and it's taken its toll on my skin. Is this what you use?"

"Yes, uh—"

Suddenly Vieve dropped her head and started sobbing.

Eleanor, moved with concern, said, "What's wrong, honey. Please sit over here." She took Vieve's hand and moved her to one of two reclining chairs behind the counter. "Do you feel ill?"

Vieve shook her head. "I haven't slept well the past few nights. I've been in this horrid, loveless, emotionally abusive marriage for the past couple of decades. I finally left."

"Well bravo for that, honey," Eleanor said.

"And you've been so nice to me. I'm just not used to that."

"My God! What did he do to you?"

"It was all so hard," Vieve blew her nose in the tissue the woman gave her. "He was so harsh. I just left this Monday," Vieve said. Vieve looked at the woman. She was tall, slender and strong. Her skin glowed. Her eyes sparkled. Vieve said, "I just can't talk about that now." She looked up and wiped her eyes. To change the subject she said, "I love your sari."

"My husband and I are going to see the Dali Llama who is speaking this afternoon. I thought this would be fun. Kenneth's wearing a kurta with a white churidar. But what can I do?"

"Nothing. Thank you. You've been so kind. I'm trying to re-humanize myself."

"Nonsense. Where do you live?"

"I'm looking for a little place to rent."

"You power walked passed here early this morning, didn't you? I was in, stocking shelves, and I thought I saw you."

"Yes. I like this neighborhood."

"We love Columbia Heights. In fact, I know of a little loft that Mrs. Kellerman has just lost a tenant in. It's a block away. Very convenient to the subway."

"Sounds interesting," Vieve said.

"I've been here for six years. I know most of the people here." Eleanor wrote as she spoke. "Here's the address and Mrs. Kellerman's number. Let me phone her right now, if you have time to see the place now?"

"That would be excellent!" Vieve said. "Thanks!"

As it turned out Mrs. Kellerman was home and was happy to show the place to Vieve. It was up three full flights of steps and was more like one large room with an alcove and a bath with the tiniest sink and shower Vieve had ever seen. The place was very dingy, but every space had potential to Vieve. She paid the first and last month's rent, a security deposit in cash, and would move in tomorrow.

She had moved straight from her parent's home to her husband's house. This was the first apartment that she was entirely responsible for. She fought off waves of sheer terror over that thought.

Chapter 22 - The Loft

"The hunger for love is much

more difficult to remove than

the hunger for bread."

Mother Teresa (1910 -1997)

born Anjezë Gonxhe Bojaxhiu

Albanian-Indian Roman Catholic

nun and missionary

VIEVE did some shopping, then went back to her bed at the YWCA and the prospects of having her own place helped her to doze once or twice. The next morning a new Queen-sized bed, was delivered to her loft, with two sets of sheets and four pillows—two Queen and two 26" square European. Also on the truck was a pale gray sofa with a pullout bed. Ruby helped her and the two women spent Friday scrubbing the place while LeVar, Jr. slid across the hardwood floors in stocking feet. He enjoyed hearing his voice echo in the emptiness. That night Vieve fell exhausted into the new, firm mattress, while Ruby and the children slept on the sofa bed in the living area. They all slept more peacefully than any of them could remember. On Saturday, Ruby and Vieve continued to scrub. Then Vieve bought zero VOC paint and by Tuesday the place was clean and fresh and decidedly Vieve. Mrs. Kellerman was very pleased.

The bathroom was sponge painted, which covered a multitude of sins, a crystal chandelier and handkerchief linen puffs hung from the ten-foot ceiling like champagne-colored clouds and sparkled like stars in the bathroom sky. She would look at the ads for Estate sales and over the next few weeks she was able to pick up enough stuff to help her set up housekeeping.

Ruby and the kids were placed in temporary housing and Ruby was getting paperwork together to legally change her name and the kid's names. The prosecutor in Ohio promised he'd help her.

At breakfast, Ruby and Vieve practiced answering questions regarding her new identity in order to create a character history. She mimicked Vieve's Midwestern accent.

"Where did you come from?" Vieve asked.

"My family is from California...Los Angeles."

"What did you do before?"

"I was a receptionist for an Internal Medicine practice."

"Where is your family?"

"Dad split when I was four and we never saw him again. Mom raised my sister and me in Los Angeles. Mom died last year. My husband was killed in Afghanistan. He never got to see his baby girl."

"What kind of food do you like?"

"I love Tex-Mex."

"What is your favorite beverage?"

"Cherry phosphates."

"Who's your favorite author?"

"William Faulkner. I know everyone raves about The Sound and the Fury, but I especially like The Reivers, which he won a Pulitzer Prize for. I also like Jane Austin."

"Your favorite musician?"

"Harry Connick, Jr."

"Favorite food?"

"Asian, especially sushi."

"Great!" Vieve said to a silent, withdrawn Ruby.

"I hate to lie."

"No, no. Get that thought out of your head. You are not injuring anyone with this new life. You are saving three lives. You are not bearing false testimony, you are not under oath."

"That's true," Ruby said as she perked up a bit.

"If you ever need to reveal your former life in a courtroom or legal situation, you can ask to speak to the judge in their chambers and explain the situation confidentially. They will surely take that into consideration. The Courts want you and the children to be safe."

"Okay, Vieve. That makes sense. I can get my brain around that."

"You've got a good ear for sound so you are really getting comfortable with your way of talking. It's probably because you are a singer. You know the tune of speech."

"I never had nothing, anything to sing about before. LeVar don't, doesn't know that I love to sing."

"Good! Now I need to know your new name and we need to begin using it. And we need to get you a new hairstyle."

"Okay," Ruby said, "but it's not legal yet."

"I know, but we have to start somewhere. I'm already using my maiden name."

Ruby had given great consideration to this process. That day she began calling her children by their new names, she also began to celebrate their birthdays on different dates than appeared on their birth certificates. LeVar, Jr. was now Ajay, for Alex Jeffrey. He had been born on June 23, but she would have a birthday party on July 12. She was comfortable with her new self-imposed identity and she would tell the children the truth, when they were adults. She and Vieve talked about the changes and she practiced her new way of speaking for the rest of the day.

Vieve aired out her place as much as she could and on Wednesday she went to the post office to notify them of her change of address from Kelly's address, and then when she received her first mail, she got a library card and applied for a part-time job at the library. These acts were uncelebrated but they made her move official. During this time, she called the boys to tell them she was definitely getting a legal separation from their Dad.

Peter, the older, married son, who was settled and growing his own contracting business, was annoyed. It showed in his attitude, "Aw Mom! I know it was hard on you," he said.

Sam, the younger son, a vegan who lived in an intentional community, said, "Mom, I'm not surprised."

When she called her mother, Marie said, "I think you should go straight home!"

"Mom, I have never been so sure about anything as I am about this. I'm not divorcing him. Let's see what Jim does. I think he needs professional help. I wonder if he'll get any."

"You've always been such an attention seeker and picked on this marriage to act out your drama with."

"No Mother. I am not an attention seeker, that label better describes you. My marriage was in trouble before it began."

When any of her family asked where she was, she simply said, "I'm safe," or, "With friends." And she gave them her cell phone number with the Ohio area code.

She tried to talk to Jim but he was raging and angry and made her glad she was hundreds of miles away. Each time he called he shouted at her and ordered her to come home. But to friends and neighbors he whined and made it seem that he had begged Vieve to come back. "I have spoken to her several times each week since she left. I always ask her to come home, but she refuses." Poor, poor Jim. He enjoyed the attention and sympathy. The abuser played the role of the victim quite well.

Kelly said. "I am so glad you did this. You of all people deserve a whole new life. Bravo. Hey—can I come visit during my next break?"

"We'll see," Vieve said. "Maybe by then I can reveal my true identity," she laughed again.

Kelly giggled, "Spoken like the Superhero I always knew you were!"

Chapter 23 - The Accident

"Ten things you can't do with a Narcissist:

Have friends.

Enjoy intimacy.

Find Peace.

Share good times.

Be guaranteed of success.

Be comforted.

Find true love.

Reach consensus.

Hear truth.

Reach your true potential."

www.facebook.com/ _Pierce The Darkness_

DURING the next few days, Vieve continued to comb the second-hand shops and estate sales. She was pleased to find more clothing, a mossy gray wool blanket that had probably been hunter green at one time and an old-fashioned gray metal oscillating fan. As she was leaving the last estate sale, she saw a guy plow into the front driver's side of her car.

"Aw, geez," she said running towards the car.

"I'm insured," the guy said as he got off his cell phone. "I just called the police. It'll be okay, Miss," he said. "I'm really sorry."

"It's not that," she said. "Accidents happen."

When the police ran her plates through the system, they found that her car had been reported as stolen. Before the tow truck took the car to wherever they take stolen, bashed in cars, Vieve removed her belongings and recent purchases out of the car and understood why homeless people push around shopping carts. She pulled her pop-up map of New York out of her purse and tried to figure out how to get home via public transportation. She told the man who hit her car that since he was responsible for hitting her—which complicated matters because now her car was towed away—he needed to pay for a cab to get her home. "I've got all this stuff packed in the car."

"But you were driving a stolen car," he said.

"That's what car thieves do. They steal old autos and go to estate sales," she countered. "I don't mean to sound rude, but how am I going to get this stuff back to my place in Columbia Heights?" She felt frustrated and near tears. She felt sick and exhausted and promised she wouldn't blame Jim for this mess. She reminded herself that life would begin anew tomorrow.

"Come on, Miss," he said. "I don't have time to take you myself, so I'll pay for a cab."

Four hours later she flopped on her bed and fell asleep amid her purchases. It had been a grueling day. Jim had pounced and won a battle by reporting her car as stolen. He made her remember how close she had been to being homeless, and the thought made her very angry.

She woke with a start to her ringing cell phone. It was Jim. "So, you're in New York City!" his tone was triumphant.

"You found me!" she said sarcastically.

"Come home now," Jim ordered.

"See, this is what you do Jim, you make my life hard. This is one kind of behavior I object to," she said. "He helps her. He makes her life easier, not harder."

"Come home," Jim said in his angry, relentless, cold voice.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because you are supposed to be where your husband is," he said.

"What will I come home to?" she asked.

"Me," he said, surprised that he had to tell her.

"I'm not coming home to what I endured for the past twenty-five years," she said.

"Oh, I'm sorry you had it so bad here," he said cynically.

"Jim, what is your plan to make our life good for both of us?" she asked and started crying silently. She was pleased that her voice remained strong and confident.

Silence.

"You've made your life good, so I know you know how to do it. But, until you come up with a plan to make both of our lives good, don't call me again," she said and hung up. She felt brave and very empowered, but it was momentary. Her feelings left her a little scared and lonely. Tears were streaming from her face. She realized she was triggered by Jim's voice and she was annoyed that he had that effect on her. Somehow, she had to get Jim's voice, the memory and the echo of it, the whisper of it, out of her head, once and for all. She hated dealing with these wretched feelings. She would look back on this experience as having led her to her first, deliberate, authentically Vieve voice: Power was definitely coming back and she found her ability to speak again. She was starting to understand how important it was to be present, fully engaged and not distracted.

She didn't even have to join an Ashram to achieve this.

Chapter 24 - Rosemary and Sophia

"Friendship multiplies joys

and divides sorrows."

Chinese Proverb

WHEN she visited Eleanor Meadows at Cinnamon's, Vieve was greeted as if she were an old, dear, friend. She had run a few blocks this morning and basked, delighted, in the sunshine of her new life, the neighborhood and the warm introduction to the Columbia Heights community. Somewhere fragrant roses bloomed. Hopeful that she would never fear or feel dread, she wondered if Eleanor knew how much she needed a friend and a community.

"Vieve!" Eleanor shouted and merrily rushed to give Vieve a hug. "Mrs. Kellerman is so pleased with what you've done. I just knew it would be a win-win!"

"Yes," Vieve said, pleased with herself. "Uh. Cinnamon. Why?" she asked, pointing backwards over her shoulder to the name on the window.

"Cinnamon is a great antioxidant and anti-inflammatory. Oh! You mean the name of the shop! This used to be a neighborhood coffee and pastry shop. It was too expensive to change the sign so we left it. That turned out well because everyone knew where we were. Some of the coffee shop customers even became our customers." Eleanor was the most vivacious woman Vieve had ever met.

"I'm back for the vitamins and the skin care line," Vieve said as Eleanor busied herself getting the products.

"Where are you from?" Vieve asked.

"Richmond, Virginia. You?" Eleanor asked.

"Chicago originally." A high-pitched jingle rang through the shop as customers came through the glass door. The door had an old-fashioned bell that tinkled when it was opened.

"Rosemary!" Eleanor cried. "Sophia! I want you to meet Vieve. She's just moved to Mrs. Kellerman's loft. She's right across the street from you."

Vieve shook hands with the woman she guessed was in her early-sixties and nodded to the five-year-old who shyly hid behind her grandmother. "Rosemary DeLuca is our fire captain's mother. Sophia is his youngest daughter. The DeLuca's own a fabulous neighborhood restaurant called Salud!" Eleanor said as Rosemary brightened. "The Eggplant Parmesan is especially delicious. My favorite!" Eleanor and Kenneth were vegans.

"Yes! Across the street from me," Vieve said. "It is very nice to meet both of you, Rosemary, Sophia." Sophia peeked out from behind her grandmother's shopping bag and stared at Vieve.

Rosemary exchanged pleasantries with both women.

"Well let me know if I can help you in any other way. I've put in some samples of a wonderful shampoo and some Spirulina energy formula since you like to power walk. If you have questions about getting oriented to the neighborhood or anything just call," Eleanor said.

"Thanks," Vieve said cheerfully.

"Juliet!" Eleanor squealed at the woman who had just come in. "How are you? When did you get back?" she asked as the door closed behind Vieve. Through the window Vieve watched Eleanor hug the woman. Smiles and hugs were given like abundant summer showers and received like fragrant bouquets and baskets of fresh, colorful produce in that shop. Vieve shifted her bags filled with purchases while she observed Rosemary who browsed through a shelf of books. Sophia's big eyes stared through round horn-rimmed glasses over Rosemary's shopping bag at Vieve.

This was different. A shop owner who gave away free samples and wouldn't sell things to her unless she tried them and was satisfied.

Vieve liked Eleanor Meadows very, very much. She felt forces had brought them together because Vieve needed this charming, pleasant and wise, very good woman, in her life now.

A few days went by and Vieve entered Cinnamon's with a smile on her face. "Hey girl!" Eleanor had said, hugging her. "How's our Vieve doing?" in her warm, genuine manner.

Eleanor looked at Vieve's face. "Natural beauty is fed from the inside and the outside. I can already see a positive difference."

"Is that what you do? Feed your skin?"

"Yes, honey," she waved a manicured hand with beautiful rings on two fingers. "I got involved with natural foods and supplements twenty years ago when my first husband took ill."

"Oh?"

"He died. Liver cancer. The cancer was too far-gone for any healing to occur, even though I had changed our eating habits drastically. It had gone to the point of no return. But you know, I noticed a real difference in the way I felt... in the way I handled that stressful situation. After he was gone, I realized that it was the lifestyle changes—exercise, food and the supplements—that helped me. I went to work for the woman at the health store. Then I met Kenneth and when we got married I moved to New York, where he lived, and opened this place."

"How long have you been married to Kenneth?"

"Eight years," Eleanor replied, grinning.

"Happy?" like most women, Vieve loved to hear about successful romances.

"Heavens yes. When my Lester passed away I didn't think there were any good men like him left. Then Kenneth came into the store in Richmond. He was at a convention. He had run out of the Spirulina energy formula. He liked to take it before he ran and we carried it. I'll tell you, it wasn't love at first sight, but he asked me to dinner the next day and then he kept coming to Richmond. That's the Reader's Digest version."

"What does Kenneth do?"

"He was in the auto after-market industry then, but he went back to school and became a chiropractor and has an alternative health care practice. His office is in back, with an entrance over there in the store," Eleanor pointed. "We are open the same hours, so it's great."

"Interesting. Before you ring that up do you carry a protein powder for a shake?" Vieve asked.

"Yes. This is very good." She pointed to a large brown jar with a soft green label. "I don't have any samples, but I offer a money-back guarantee. If you don't like it I'll give you a full refund. But I'll warn you. I don't like to refund unless at least half of it is gone. That way I know people have given the product a fair chance. Oh! And I'd like for you to try these other flavors of the Spirulina energy formula samples." Eleanor dropped some white plastic packets in the bag. "My Kenneth swears that it gives him noticeable strength and power."

"Thanks," Vieve said. "I'd like to have you and Kenneth over for dinner."

"Oh, my dear, we've been saying the same thing. Since you're new here, please come to our home first. We haven't had the DeLuca's, Johnny and Yolanda and their little Jo-Jo over yet, so we'll invite them also. They are the nicest people. Johnny was shot in the line of duty." She pointed to her neck, hip and shoulder, then sighed. "He just retired from the police force. We really wondered if he was going to make it." Eleanor shook her head. "Yolanda is so glad he made the decision to retire and he's been working at the restaurant. She has an accounting practice, but still helps in the restaurant."

"I'm looking forward to it. You have my number, right?"

"Yes, yes. I also want to bounce off the idea of having a Tai Chi Qi Dong class in the park every morning."

"Isn't that a martial art?" Vieve asked.

"Well there are five types of Tai Chi. The one used for gentle exercise is Qi Dong. It's been designed for health and balance. I just wondered how many people would support it."

"It kind of depends on my schedule when I start working and all. But keep me posted, will you?"

Chapter 25 - Sophia and the Bully

"Every child deserves a champion:

an adult who will never give up on them,

who understands the power of

connection and who insists that they

become the best they can possibly be."

Rita Pierson, Educator

LearningStationMusic.com

FRESH crisp carrots, cold cucumbers, crunchy celery, fragrant ginger root and garlic, onions, red lettuces and mesclun and squash jumbled together in the two French string-shopping bags that Vieve carried home from Sanjit's neighborhood market. She could almost smell the fresh vegetable stir-fry, soup and salads she would create from the succulent juicy produce. She never thought she would enjoy eating this way but the food preparation, the colors and fragrances and the satisfaction from the creation of each nourishing meal was bliss. She had been introduced to Quinoa, Sprouts, micro greens and chia, mostly from Eleanor. Vieve hummed to a Beatles song through her iPhone ear buds as she power walked to her apartment.

A small girl with long, curly brown hair pulled off her neck into two ponytails, was sulking on the second stair of the eight-step front stoop to the entry door of Vieve's building. It was Sophia. Vieve tried to ignore the child, but the girl heaved an enormous sigh to indicate the burdens that were far too great for a small child her age to bear.

Vieve checked her mailbox and watched the girl as she sat, elbows perched on bare knees, chin in hands. The child wore a white blouse with a navy sweater vest over long plaid shorts with navy knee socks and loafers. Strands of curly wisps framed her cherubic face.

"Aren't you Sophia?" Vieve asked. "I met you and your Grandmother at Cinnamon's."

The child looked at her through round tortoise shell rimmed glasses, nodded and sniffled again. Her nose was very pink and glistened. Vieve placed the groceries down on the top step and sat next to the little girl. Children her age were playing in the schoolyard, behind the high iron fencing, not half a block away. Vieve checked the time on her phone. Lunchtime.

"Have you eaten lunch?" Vieve asked. Sophia nodded and sniffled again.

"I guess you must have a huge, huge problem then," Vieve said. Sophia sniffed in agreement. Vieve continued, "There are some problems that just go away by themselves. Other problems have to be discussed. Which kind is your huge, huge, problem?"

Sophia looked at Vieve. "Well this one ain't going away by itself!" she said decisively.

"Oh!" Vieve said, pushed back a bit by the vigor of the child's answer. "I see. So, I guess it's the kind that needs to be discussed. I used to have two little boys and they used to tell me their huge, huge problems."

"Juanita Gonzalez," Sophia pointed to a large girl in the schoolyard who was barking orders at the girls who jumped rope, "she grabbed me and held me down while Danny De La Rosa kissed me over and over again!" She pointed to a very small boy who admired Sophia with total adoration as he stood in the schoolyard and hung on to the black iron bars.

"Well that's not right! Is it?" Vieve said.

"No!" Sophia said, bursting into tears. "He gave her his lunch money to hold me down."

"If I were kissed it would be because I agreed to be kissed by a charming, handsome man who I adored. A lady should never be forced to do anything she doesn't want to do. How did that make you feel?" Vieve asked, stroking the girl's hair.

"Not good!" Sophia yelled and pounded a fist into her knee. "I did not want him to kiss me! I hung on to the bars, but Juanita pulled me off."

"Oh my! How did that make you feel?" Vieve stood up.

"Like they were mean," the girl's eyes streamed with tears.

"You're right. They were being bullies. You didn't feel protected. Did you feel like you had no choice but to leave the school grounds? Is that what happened?"

"Yes," the girl sniffed.

Vieve became aware of a tall, distinguished looking dark-haired man watching them from the restaurant window. "Do you know that man in the restaurant?" She waved at him and he waved back.

"Yes," Sophia said. "He's my Uncle Johnny."

"Well," Vieve said. "You can tell your father exactly the way you told me and he can help you with this."

Sophia shook her head. She said, "My Daddy is really grumpy."

Vieve unlocked the door and put her bags inside, then pulled the door shut. "How about your mother?"

"No, she died," Sophia sniffed.

"I'm sorry. Hang on, don't move. I'll be right back." Vieve darted across the side street to talk to Sophia's Uncle Johnny. "I'm Genevieve Sloan and I live across the street in the loft apartment. I met your Mom, uh, Rosemary?"

"Yes. I'm Johnny DeLuca, Sophia's uncle." He extended his right hand.

When she responded by giving him her hand, he smiled and held it. He put his other hand over hers. The gesture imparted a new warm and affirming feeling that told her he valued her and he was happy to be talking with her. She said. "If it's okay with you I'll walk Sophia back to school. She just needed a friend."

"Thanks. Yeah," the man said. She removed her hand from his grasp and returned to the child.

Vieve sighed and stooped down to be eye level with Sophia. "You and I can go resolve this huge, huge problem." Her voice was as gentle and as soft as the tender feelings she had for this motherless child. "If you want to."

Sophia nodded her head, stood and followed Vieve. The poor waif-like creature seemed ready to cry again. To help her regain her dignity Vieve said, "I don't know about you but I am mad." She stomped her feet and huffed.

Sophia liked the idea and jumped up to join the stomping Vieve.

"I'm taking her back to the school now," Vieve called to Johnny. He nodded from the window and gave her a thumbs up.

When they approached the schoolyard Vieve squinted and asked, "Where is your teacher?"

Sophia looked past the girls who were jumping rope and the boys who played catch with a soft rubber ball. She pointed to a young woman who was leaning against the brick building laughing with a male teacher. "Her name is Miss Washburne. She likes Mr. Ryerson." Sophia rolled her eyes, sighed and then squinted as she looked up into Vieve's determined face.

Vieve took a deep, centering breath and stepped forward. She closed her eyes, let her breath out slowly and checked in with her authentic self before she would address this. When she was certain she was going to speak from a place of love for this child, and not anger or frustration she began. "Miss Washburne?" she asked. Both teachers stiffened. "Isn't there someone assigned to supervise these free play times?"

"Uh, yes," Miss Washburne said nervously.

"Well," Vieve began. "This child has escaped school grounds because she was attacked by two other children, and held down against her will," Vieve said using Sophia's words. "I found her half a block away, outside of the school property, crying over this incident." She had stated the facts. She did not want to place a judgment on Miss Washburne but she wanted to be part of the solution. She softened towards the young teacher and gentled her voice. "I understand your challenges, but what can we do about this?"

"Uh, I'm very sorry Sophia," the teacher began. She was nearly speechless.

"Thank you for that," Vieve said. "I'm a Mom and I understand how hard it is to keep track of a few children, and here you have a schoolyard of them." She paused and maintained an understated tone. "But we must consider how Sophia feels when the people she is taught to obey and listen to are not providing proper supervision or advocacy."

"Um," the teacher said looking around for Mr. Ryerson who had disappeared.

"If this happens again, what do you think should be done, Sophia?" Vieve softly asked. The child shrugged her shoulders and looked at Vieve with wide-eyes. "If this happens again Sophia and I will have no choice but to bring it to the attention of both the principal and her father," she said sadly. The bell rang. Vieve stooped down to be eye level with the five-year-old. "Sophia, I'm counting on you to let me know if there are any more problems or any more bullies," Vieve said. As she spoke to Sophia her voice and eyes were warm and kind. She stroked the child's hair and patted her shoulder.

"Yes, Ma'am. I will," Sophia said.

Sophia and Miss Washburne disappeared behind massive green doors in the brown brick building.

Vieve counted this confrontation as a personal success. In the past, because Jim was emotionally unavailable to her and the children, and because she had no self-esteem, Vieve would have become aggressive and hard in order to make her point. Jim had often seemed unable to make decent decisions and she had been quick to jump in—especially when the boys needed an advocate. Now she realized that because she was annoyed with Jim's insufficiencies, she had probably sounded rough and aggressive and acted like a wrecking ball, when speaking in behalf of her children. Today she had handled the situation in a softer, nurturing, firm and very caring manner. There are public victories and private ones. She was very pleased with the change.

Chapter 26 - Firehouse Tour

"Among the most valued of human

traits is empathy. Just what is empathy?

'The capacity to appreciate the other

person's feelings and point of view—

whether you agree with him or not.'

How important is empathy in conversation?

'That's bedrock! That's the foundation

upon which everything else is built.'"

Dr. Bernard Guilbert Guerney

(1908 – 1979)

of Pennsylvania State University

WHEN the doorbell rang and she buzzed the lock on the front door, Vieve squealed and ran to open the door. She had been anticipating this visit for a very long time. The first thing she saw emerging up the stairwell was her cello in its case with a blue ribbon. The second thing she saw was Kelly's beautiful face.

"You've won first prize, Aunt Vieve," she said, pointing to the ribbon, hugging and kissing her favorite relative. Kelly smiled, looking like a younger version of Vieve. Kelly was everything Vieve could have been when she was twenty-one, given a little guidance and understanding: A beautiful college student with a 3.9 grade point average; a fun-loving world traveler; and on the tall side with a great sense of humor and a smile that lit up the world. "I knew you missed it and I packed around it in my little car."

No one ever explains that your children could be different than your expectations. Vieve was entirely different from her mother, Marie. Vieve was more like Kelly's mother than Vieve's sister, Paulette, ever was or ever wanted to be for that matter. Even Marie said that Kelly should have been born to Vieve because she was just like her aunt.

Vieve was a breath of fresh air for Kelly. Kelly said she wouldn't have been able to cope with that family if it weren't for the weekend get-aways and day trips with her Auntie Vieve.

Vieve made an expansive gesture that opened her guest's attention to the full scope of the loft. Other than the bathroom, the loft was basically one large room. A bookcase separated the living area from the sleeping area, and Vieve used the backside of the bookcase as a wall. She hung a poster of Van Gogh's Iris's on it. The living area walls were painted mossy gray with creamy white woodwork and trim. The focal point was the enormous Demilune window in the front. Vieve had draped handfuls of handkerchief linen in a warm gray color around a rod that was mounted straight above the window, parallel to the ceiling. There was the very light gray sofa bed and a trunk that, after a new coat of silver paint, served as a coffee table. Other than the bed and the sofa, everything else had been purchased at Tag Sales. "Well it's not much. I found the screen to place between my bed and the kitchen. I've got the tiniest range, a George Foreman grill, an electric frying pan and a crock-pot. I don't do much entertaining up here in Columbia Heights heaven. My little refrigerator forces me to shop almost daily for fresh produce."

Kelly took a few pictures from Vieve's living room window. Rooftops looked like an industrial quilt spread endlessly over the city that blanketed, protected and hid Vieve.

"I can't believe you lived in a shelter," Kelly said, still snapping pictures.

"Just for a couple of nights. Then I went to the Y and from there I found this place."

"I think it's crappy the way Grandma and my mother treated you. You expect to be able to call on your family during the hard times." Her expression changed. "Will I be able to meet Ruby?"

"Yes. She's a welfare Mom right now, but she's in this LPN program that's helping her and they all have a future. But she's not Ruby any more. She changed her name to protect herself from her ex-husband. She's Gemma King. She calls the children Ajay and Adrienne now. The prosecuting attorney in Ohio notified the judge of the danger she was in and she's basically changed her identity. She's changing everything. The way she looks, the way she speaks. But she's still the sweet survivor."

"Good for her." Kelly said. "Oh my God!" Kelly pulled a piece of paper from the printer. "You are still making lists!" She shook her head. "You can't do this. These lists limit you. You're letting go of limiting beliefs!"

"I know. I'm trying, really. But these are lists to help me put some order to the clutter in my head."

"Okay then. What about friends?"

"I've made friends with a cool couple, Eleanor and Kenneth Meadows."

"Your age?"

"No," Vieve laughed. "But it's like the clock stopped for them. She's sixty-five and looks fifty. Acts like she's thirty. I go to her for beauty advice. He's fifty-nine. They are like my surrogate parents. When he was fifty he became a chiropractor. They are very high-energy people. They're helping me heal on every level and connected me with a great psychologist. She's even explaining Tantric sex to me so I can heal my Yoni! See my Feminine empowerment area?"

She pointed to a ledge on the bookcase with a Himalayan salt lamp, a gong, a candle scented with myrrh, and pictures and clippings that inspired Vieve, as well as a journal.

"Way to go, gorgeous. Mom wouldn't know what a Yoni or Tantric sex was. I love that you always go to Cool," she said with admiration. "Come on. I need to take some New York day photos for my class! Did you scope some locations for me?"

Vieve grabbed her leather jacket, and then changed her mind. The summer morning was cool, but the day would heat up. "I have. There are some pretty fabulous buildings around here and classically wonderful tiny parks. Great views of the Harbor and the Brooklyn Bridge, too. Come on. This will be great!"

Vieve took Kelly to Sophia's school. Near the school grounds they found a charming tiny garden that was beginning to turn the colors that denote the end of the summer like the last notes of a symphony. An elderly couple held hands and sat on the bench, which was the only structure the tiny corner could hold. They cuddled, laughed and posed for Kelly. Not far from the postage stamp park was the two-story historic Middagh Street Columbia Heights firehouse. It was at least one hundred years old. Built from reddish-brown bricks with limestone trim, it had five windows on the second floor. The center window was shorter than the others. The front doors were painted with a Patriotic New York landscape scene. It stood like a stately, emotionally generous governess, whose primary responsibility was to look after the neighborhood, and keep it safe.

"Take a deep breath, Kel," Vieve said seriously. "And let us observe a moment of silence."

"Why?" she whispered as she inhaled obediently.

"Don't you smell it?" Vieve asked as she breathed deeply, eyes closed. Her head dropped back as she breathed deeply.

"What?"

"Testosterone. It's my favorite fragrance," Vieve grinned.

"Yeah," Kelly closed her eyes and inhaled again. "I know what you mean. Guys in uniforms. Even buff guys who are in a tee shirt and jogging pants. The UPS guy looks good."

Vieve laughed. "Wait here. I'll see if we can get in." Vieve walked to the side door. It was unlocked so she entered. She heard someone in the office grumbling. "Knock, knock," Vieve said. She looked for some identification. "Um. Hi. Uh," she read his nametag,

"Captain DeLuk—?" She thought about Rosemary and Sophia and Miss Washburne.

"DeLuca," he said, placing the accent on the second to the last syllable and pronouncing the Italian c as a ch—like in cha cha.

"Captain DeLuca," Vieve repeated. "It's nice to meet you." Vieve smiled. "I'm Vieve Sloan," as if that means anything, she thought. "I'm with an out-of-town student photographer. She wants to take a couple of pictures of the firehouse and the firefighters. Would that be okay?"

The man looked up from his computer with a frown on his face. "Uh. Yeah. Sure. Sorry," he said. "Computer glitches will drive you nuts."

"No problem. I have depended on technology and had it fail me as well."

"Follow me. Please." He stood up, he was a tall man, almost 6'3" and weighed a solid 230 pounds. He walked to the fire pole and hollered upstairs. "Hey! Can you please come down for some pictures?" he called to the second floor. He hit a button that automatically opened the large front door. Vieve watched the door rise and first Kelly's black spike heeled boots appeared, then her jeans, then her tee shirt and denim jacket, and finally her beautiful face. Kelly was excited that they were accommodating her. Her youthful energy, her quick, blue eyes, and her happy mood animated her whole body.

Chris zoomed down the pole. He wore a white tee shirt and loose pants with suspenders. When he saw Kelly, he was all smiles. "Here I am!" he announced happily.

"Whaddaya think? She only wants a picture of you, Fabio?" Captain DeLuca asked. He called again to the second floor. "Hey Alex, you up there? Mario? Ann? Come down here please."

"Hi Chris!" Vieve said.

"Vieve!" Chris pecked her cheek. "Did you meet the Captain?"

Vieve nodded. "Yes. This is my niece, Kelly. She's going to take a couple of pictures. Maybe we can use them for the project."

"Great!" the young firefighter accepted Kelly's extended hand and wouldn't let go. "You are a beautiful woman," he said as he looked into Kelly's eyes. "I'm Chris McPherson. May I take you to breakfast tomorrow?"

Alex was next, "What are you doing here? You're the one requesting the pictures?"

"Yes," Vieve said smiling. "Hi Alex."

Kelly said, "Can we get started with the photos please?"

"Captain, Vieve is the lady who is helping out with the fund raiser for the new roof," Alex said as he took his place in front of the Fire Engine.

Anthony was happy with the concept of getting this lovely woman's assistance with the project and shook hands with Vieve, "Thanks."

"Happy to," she said. "I hear this is a historic Fire House. It's a beautiful building."

"Yeah," he said looking around. "Isn't it great?

The Captain was not what Vieve would call handsome, her tastes had run to elegant looking, slender men. Marathon runners, not football players. But, there was a definite masculine appeal about him. He had the look of strength, with solid powerful shoulders and a strong jaw, and she liked that. His shortly cut brown hair and his closely cropped beard that was just beginning to show a little gray was attractive. She figured he was in his late thirties, and judging by the ages Eleanor had said his kids were, that seemed right. She forced her attention to Kelly.

Alex, Mario, Ann and Chris posed for Kelly in front of the engine. They helped her climb in the driver's side and they took her picture as she donned a helmet and waved from the open passenger's window. She looked down from the passenger's side of the vehicle and snapped a few more photos.

Vieve smiled at these young people. "Youth is beautiful," she said to Captain DeLuca.

"Yeah," she heard him say. She didn't need to look at him directly to know his expression was cheerful. She heard his smile in his voice.

"Come on Captain," Kelly waved Anthony over for a quick picture with the crew. "Thanks everyone," Kelly called to them as she left. I'll send a second set of prints to my Aunt Vieve."

"Email them to me," Chris called from the cab.

"I am being graded on developing prints."

Chris ran up to Kelly and chatted for a minute, then he kissed her hand and smiled into her face. When he passed the Captain and Vieve, he was beaming.

"Thank you, Captain DeLuca," Vieve said, giving him another one of her grand grins.

"Anytime," the man said. He had just performed a public service. It was part of his job to arrange for tours and photo shoots. Though her blonde straight hair was short, in an asymmetrical, trendy style with an abundance of bangs, and Katie had been a red-head with long, curly hair that he had loved, Vieve's blue eyes were striking, warm and very appealing. When he looked into her happy face he felt a tug of unexpected emotions, like a gulp of air and a splash of water after running a marathon. The feeling was vaguely familiar. At the same time, there were elements that were different within this echo of a memory.

Vieve walked out to the sidewalk and heard the massive fire station door shut behind them.

Kelly skipped down the street, ran ahead of her aunt and walked backwards. She grinned. "Chris is coming by at nine tomorrow morning when he gets off. He's taking me to breakfast. I couldn't resist. He's so cute!"

"Chris is cute," Vieve said, raising her eyebrows and smiling. "And charming."

"And strong," Kelly sighed dreamily. "So, what are your plans?" Kelly asked. "Tell me about your new job."

"I've had the little part-time Library gig going which has kept me poor enough to continue to depend on my credit cards," she chuckled. "It's okay. I cashed in a small insurance policy to furnish my place. I gave myself several months to regain my physical health and mental stamina. I'm starting my new job on Monday. Just graphic arts, public relations, you know—what I do. I need something with benefits—with the unavoidable insurance and retirement plan. Then I'm going to focus on paying my bills off, and I'm already in a neighborhood volunteer project with Chris and Alex. We met at the gym I joined."

Kelly snapped a few shots of Vieve. "Aunt Vieve. Look! Gorgeous! Back home they would be amazed."

Vieve did not realize it at the time, but she had just met the man who would challenge everything she thought she had come to know about herself.

Chapter 27 - Salud!

"Apology – an acknowledgement

intended as an atonement for

some improper or injurious remark or act;

an admission to another of a wrong

or discourtesy done him, accompanied

by an expression of regret."

Webster's New International Dictionary

THEY had walked to the street Vieve lived on. "Coffee? Here okay?" she asked Kelly who nodded. They ducked in Salud! and sat at a small table.

Vieve spoke with admiration. "You are amazing. You would never spend a lifetime trying to make things work with a man who wouldn't invest in the relationship."

Kelly nodded. "That's right."

"Jim has chosen to divorce me. I'm taking back my maiden name you know. I'm already using Sloan," Vieve said. "It means Warrior. It's kind of how I feel. I've fought hard. Even though I've lost a few battles I'm still winning the war."

"Wow! Mom and Grandma will have a lot to say about taking back Sloan!" Kelly laughed. They looked to the main area of the restaurant for someone to wait on them. "You are the most courageous person I've ever met. Dad always said you had more balls than most men," Kelly said.

"No, I just found my power and my voice. Please don't ever compare me to a man. I really want to return to the feminine, girly-girl that is authentically me.'

"Okay. Sorry. Where's the restroom? Order latte and a chocolate biscotti for me, will you?" Kelly withdrew around the corner.

Vieve took a deep breath and looked around the empty restaurant. Rightly empty, as the morning had not yet become lunchtime. Chairs were turned upside down on tabletops. The main dining room was square and then narrowed to a wide hallway lined with a long wooden bench against each wall and chairs on the other side of the table nearer the center aisle that Kelly had just walked down. A tall man approached her.

"Welcome to Salud!" he said pleasantly, with a rich, deep, baritone voice.

"Hi Johnny, right? Are you open?" she started.

"Absolutely. Hi Vieve," he smiled as he situated two chairs around a table.

"Whew! Thanks! I was beginning to think we just barged in on you folks. Two large café lattes and two chocolate biscotti's," she handed him the menu. "And two bottles of spring water, please," she smiled into his face. He had a great face, rugged and masculine and topped with black wavy hair.

"Our pastries are the best in the Borough," he said with a gravelly baritone voice as he smiled proudly.

"So, this is the DeLuca restaurant?" Vieve asked, smiling at his pleasant face.

"Yes!" he said, pleased that she knew his family's name and pronounced it properly. "Is this your first time here?"

Vieve nodded. "Yes. I've been meaning to stop by," she said. "Everyone raves about the food here."

"Thanks," he said as Kelly took her seat. "I'm Johnny DeLuca," he told Kelly.

"Kelly Dearmand, visiting from Ohio State University. I think we just met your brother."

"Yeah, he's the Captain at the firehouse. Welcome to Columbia Heights," he said. "Sisters?"

"I'm visiting my newly divorced Aunt who lives right across the street," Kelly said with a knowing grin and a wink.

"She's friends with my niece, Sophia." Johnny was all smiles.

"Right," Vieve said. "What a darling child."

"She's a character," he offered.

Vieve nodded in the direction of a small raised stage in the corner, opposite the bar. A chair sat on the planked floor of the platform and a studio piano was against the wall. "Do you have entertainment?"

"Once in a while," the man said as he made espresso coffee from behind the bar and heated and foamed the milk, then served the women. They heard a man singing opera from the kitchen. Johnny was back in a heartbeat with the biscotti and water and seemed to linger in the dining room, adjusting chairs, cleaning tables, polishing glassware at the bar.

"He doesn't seem able to take his eyes off you, Auntie Vieve," Kelly whispered.

"He's married, lovely wife and little boy," Vieve said softly.

When Johnny returned to the table Kelly said, "You are witnessing a great event. My beautiful Aunt is formally removing her wedding ring."

He smiled and said, "You probably have mixed feelings right now."

"Yes," Vieve said. "I've worn it for over two decades." She opened her wallet and dropped the ring in the zippered pocket. _He treated me badly and he never even apologized,_ she thought.

"Now you can move on," Johnny said.

"You have a soul like a willow," Kelly said.

Johnny added, "There's a lot to be said for growing where you're planted."

"Well, I've picked myself up and moved to a place where I'll thrive," Vieve said with confidence.

"I'll check back with you later," Johnny said.

"So, would you consider letting another man in your life?" Kelly asked as she sipped her café.

"My number one priority in life was to be part of a couple. Part of a family. Those emotions are very strong in me."

"And Jim took that all away."

"Yes, he did. His feelings were of utmost importance for himself, while mine were devalued. He didn't even value the history we made together."

"Narcissist."

"There may be a good guy out there who will find me. Fortunately, with my experience, I can identify the undesirables so quickly."

"How is he going to find you?"

"I'll make myself available. Do some volunteering. Take a class, join a club."

As the women talked, Johnny DeLuca went into the kitchen and waved at his wife Yolanda. "Take a look at her, the woman facing us," he looked through the small window on the swinging door. "Her name is Vieve Sloan, she's recently divorced and she lives across the street."

Yolanda peeked through the round window in the door. "Vieve is short for Genevieve," she said. "Oops, she almost caught me!" she gasped, and ducked down, her back against the wall, then giggled and continued, "She was at the dinner at the Meadows. The one you didn't come to because you had made that commitment with Ralph." She was glad she and JoJo had attended. The Meadows were amazing and always had interesting points of view and she had enjoyed getting to know Vieve.

Joe, Johnny's father, stopped singing opera. "Let me look," he said. "She is pretty." Yolanda began to tug at his sleeve. "No," Joe whispered sternly. "I don't care if she does see me."

Yolanda asked, "You're thinking about Anth?"

"Yeah, why not?" Johnny shrugged his shoulders. "He's such a pill these days. I'd hate to subject anyone to that."

Joe's eyes brightened and he returned to sauces that bubbled fragrantly on the top of the commercial range. "That's because he doesn't have the love of a wonderful woman to nourish his spirit. Men need that." The trio continued to prepare for the noon crowd by chopping, tearing, tasting, salting, seasoning and humming to their food as it was affectionately nurtured and coaxed into delicious dishes.

"They're charming," Joe whispered as he peeked from the kitchen again. "Mother and daughter?"

"Aunt and niece," Johnny said. "She has such a pleasant nature. Lives across the street. Hey, babe, why don't we invite the Meadows and her over one night next week?"

Yolanda nodded, "Sure."

Joe made the connection and said, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now I remember. Rosemary and Sophia told me about her. Let's get her to come back. Where are those BOGO coupons?" Joe said, opening a drawer and rifling through. "Aha!"

Joe took a coupon to Vieve and welcomed her to the neighborhood. After they finished the biscotti and coffee, Yolanda gave them a bag with two cannoli's inside. "A sample," she explained with a smile. "Please enjoy. Compliments of the DeLuca family. Welcome to the neighborhood."

The women paid their bill, and said "Good-bye" to Joe, Yolanda, and Johnny.

Chapter 28 - Kelly and Vieve

"In order to carry a positive action we

must develop here a positive vision."

The 14th Dalai Lama,

(born: Lhamo Dondrub, 1935 –)

Spiritual Head of Tibetan Buddhism

KELLY spoke as DeLuca eyes watched her and her aunt walk away from the restaurant's enormous windows. The DeLuca family waved when the women turned to smile at them. Vieve and Kelly waved back.

"Exercise and vitamins aren't everything you're doing right," Kelly said. "Even your shadow has sex appeal."

"I had to fix the mess inside," Vieve said. "My comfort level and knowing who I was, turned out to be immeasurably important, but it was something I always ignored. Now I realize that my comfort level helps to define me. It shows me that I have edges, rather than oozing into where other people exist. Jim took advantage of my ignorance about my identity. Real love feels like love. Love works in the best interests of everyone and doesn't insist on its rights."

"That's a mouthful of wisdom," Kelly said.

"Eleanor said that as I fell out of love with Jim, I would fall in love with myself," Vieve said and smiled at the thought. "And it worked! I've even been questioning my religious beliefs, which were profoundly limiting and based on bullying, and I have created a daily spiritual practice."

"I'm glad you have friends who are helping you to blossom. You so deserve successes."

"Thanks," Vieve said. "They are becoming my family."

"Good!" Kelly rolled her eyes. "I want to photograph the Y and the Shelter you stayed at, for the family history I'm writing for sociology class. The caption will say: 'This is where one of our own lived because our family was so dysfunctional they wouldn't respond in a warm and loving way.' After that, let's go to Central Park! The long shadows will be great in the late afternoon."

Chapter 29 - Community Party

"The primary danger of the television

screen lies not so much in the behavior

it produces (but) the behavior it

prevents—the talks, the games, the family

activities, and the arguments through which much

of a child's learning takes place and

his character is formed."

Urie Bronfenbrenner,

(1917 – 2005)

Russian born American Psychologist,

known for work with child development

A WEEK later Vieve and Gemma and the children stood at a bus stop. "Ajay, mind your Auntie Vieve," Gemma said and then kissed him and the baby. "I love you Ajay." Gemma hugged her friend, "Thanks Vieve. I'll see all of y'all tomorrow night." She boarded the bus. _I'll see YOU tomorrow night,_ she thought

The children and their mother had taken well to their new identities and names. Only Vieve and Kelly knew of their past, which was the way Gemma wanted things to be. When Kelly met her, she had told Gemma that it was an honor to know her and that she looked forward to seeing her fill up the space that was now Gemma.

Vieve and Ajay held hands as he chattered away about a story the teacher read in Day Care. He loved stories and he was quite articulate for his age. By the time the children and Vieve got to her street, they had stopped in the bookstore, the pet shop, the camera shop and Ajay was starving and whining. They turned the corner and began the two-block walk to Vieve's building when they heard Eleanor and Kenneth.

"Are you coming to Alex's party?" they cried from across the street.

"Alex from the firehouse?" Vieve asked as she pushed the stroller across the street towards them. Ajay obediently held her hand.

"Come on. Join us! Everyone is invited" Kenneth opened the door to Salud! and Eleanor pulled Vieve inside. "Rosemary and Yolanda are here."

"Ellie!" the crowd shouted in unison. "Kenneth!" they all cried.

Introductions were made and Alex found a spot near him for Vieve and the kids. Alex and his wife, Amani, cooed over the eleven-month-old baby. "Look at that hair," Alex said, gently patting Adrienne's soft Afro.

Everyone was congratulating Alex.

"Hi. " Vieve said, smiling all around. "Well congratulations!" Vieve said to Alex. "Nice to meet you, Amani." She extended her hand to the young woman. "Why are we congratulating him?" Vieve asked in a low voice to Amani.

"He is now a Certified Paramedic-EMT. He's recently moved to Middagh Street because he loves the Captain," Amani quietly explained. "Our apartment is two blocks away."

"Aw!" Chris said. Some of the guys were watching a game on the television at the bar. They groaned. "He missed that. D'you see that?"

Gabrielle shyly said, "Hi," and waved a little. Vieve smiled at the pretty girl and started talking to her about school. Sophia was nearly asleep against her father's shoulder. Vincent, Sophia and Gabrielle's brother, was watching the game with Alex who had moved to the bar. "What can we get you folks to drink?" Johnny asked.

"Water," Kenneth said. "Bottled, please." Eleanor nodded.

Vieve thought the room grew silent, anticipating the moment she would speak. At first, she hesitated because it seemed everyone was listening to what she would choose to drink. Then, she became very aware that she was the only person in a suit. Amani wore a hospital scrubs. The guys were in casual pants and tee shirts. The entire DeLuca family were casual. Vieve nodded at Ajay as she took off her suit jacket.

"Milk," he said.

"And I'll have a beer—anything from the tap," Vieve said. A blouse and skirt were way less formal than a suit. Working in marketing and for Charlie and Delores at the shelter had made her aware of her image and people's perceptions. She unbuttoned her cuffs and pushed up her sleeves.

Everyone cheered. "Yeah!" Alex said. "The classiest women always drink beer!"

Joe beat the table like a tom-tom. "From the land of sky blue waters," Joe sang.

Vieve laughed and sang the jingle with him. She said, "That's pretty obscure."

"What was that?" Alex asked.

"A beer jingle," Joe announced proudly. "It was a small brewery in Minnesota. Famous for its clever jingle and bear-animation. Vieve's from the Midwest so I thought she'd know it. Anthony, your Mom and I are gonna go home now. Gabrielle wants to come with us. Let me take Sophia."

Half asleep, Sophia had been watching Vieve from her father's shoulder. They passed the child to the end of the table where Joe was. When Sophia was passed near Vieve the child said, "You have pretty hair, kiddo."

"Thank you. You have beautiful eyes, kiddo," Vieve whispered.

"I don't know where she comes up with this 'kiddo' stuff," Anthony said to the Meadows.

Alex and Vincent had returned to the table and Vincent shrugged his shoulders to someone's question as he reached for a piece of garlic bread. Johnny came out of the kitchen with calzones as Joe picked up Sophia.

"Smells delicious," Vieve said. "Did you make this Johnny?"

"Hi Vieve. Not this batch. Dad did," he said. "Yolanda'll be out in a minute. Hey Alex! My mom has a package for you, don't forget."

Ajay pulled on Vieve's sleeve. He whispered something as Alex sat down in a chair at their end of the table.

"You can tell him Ajay. It's okay," Vieve nodded.

Ajay looked at Alex and shyly smiled. He hid his grin behind an open hand. "My name is Alex Jeffrey," he said, hiding his giggle behind his hands.

"Hey! That's pretty cool! We have the same name. I'm glad people call you Ajay. You know why? Because otherwise they couldn't tell us apart," Alex said.

Ajay laughed. "That's funny," he said as the others laughed. "'Cause you're way bigger 'n me."

Rosemary kissed Alex's forehead. She handed him a bag. "White cake with cannoli filling. For you to take home and enjoy by yourself. Don't let them get it."

"Thanks Mrs. D," Alex said kissing her cheek. "That's my favorite!"

"I remembered. Goodnight everyone. Nice to meet you Ajay. Vieve good to see you again," Rosemary said.

"So Vieve. You've got to help us get oriented here," Amani said as Joe and Rosemary left. "Where do you work?"

"In Manhattan, for a marketing firm. A small one," she said. "I'm a graphic artist, administrator, and public relations person. We all wear many hats."

"Oooh, Manhattan," Alex said, wiggling his eyebrows. Vieve noticed that most people were listening to her.

"So, are you married?" Amani asked. Her given name was Amanishakhete, and she was from western Cameroon. Alex was from Brooklyn, but he had lived with his grandparents for several years in Martinique when he was a kid. They spoke to each other in Creole French.

"My husband of twenty-five years just divorced me, " Vieve said.

"Crazy man," Alex said.

"Goals?" Eleanor asked.

Vieve smiled. "I want to focus on work. Enjoy living in New York. Meet new people. Have fun."

"You met the right group of people to have fun with," Anthony said from the other end of the table.

"Here, here," Kenneth agreed. He held up his water glass, then clinked it against Vieve's beer for emphasis.

"After you eat supper, would you like to see the fire house?" Alex said to Ajay. He whispered to Amani, " Mwen te kite telefòn selilè mwen an. (Translation: I left my cell phone over there.)"

"I shore would, sir!" Ajay beamed. He finished his supper in record time and watched Alex patiently.

After the firehouse tour, Alex and Ajay returned to see Vieve standing at the jukebox.

Johnny winked at Yolanda. "What's your pleasure?" Johnny asked Vieve, pulling a quarter from his pocket.

"G-5," she said. Her eyes were happy.

"Classic," he said, putting in the quarter, making the selection. As the record was picked up by the mechanical arm and placed on the turntable, Johnny took off his apron, rolled down his sleeves and buttoned the cuffs. "May I have this dance?" he offered an arm to Vieve.

She looked at Yolanda as if to say is it okay?

Yolanda smiled and waved, "Go ahead. Joe sings and Johnny dances. It's my life."

"Hey, you're pretty good," Johnny said as they warmed up together.

"Not bad yourself," Vieve replied. Yolanda and Alex laughed as Vieve and Johnny entered a friendly competition with dance moves few had ever seen before.

"It's a New York slide," Johnny said, dragging one leg after another across the floor.

"A Chicago shimmy," Vieve replied, doing a slow shoulder roll. "Straight from the House of Blues!"

"A Columbia Heights grind," Johnny laughed as he wiggled across the floor and she tried to mimic him.

"A Lake Michigan bump," Vieve giggled. "Windy City bunny hug."

Kenneth Meadows glanced at Eleanor who was holding Adrienne in her lap. He winked at his wife as she swayed to the music from her seat and then nudged her with a knee and shifted his eye towards Anthony. She glanced at Anthony and nodded. It was nice to see him smiling and having fun.

The others teased the dancers and offered unsolicited ratings. "One point for Johnny," someone would holler. "Two points for Vieve," another would shout. Then when Johnny would out do Vieve, she would have to come up with some outrageous move as she contended with the master. Finally, Johnny did a series of moonwalks, electric slides and other dance steps that no one in the room could out do. The party cheered.

"I give up," Vieve put her hands up in surrender. "You are great!" she said as she flopped back onto the bench.

"Thank you. Thank you very much," Johnny said alà Elvis, bowing.

Anthony stood, whistled and clapped from the far end of the table. He walked behind the bar and poured himself another beer from the tap. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a five-dollar bill and stuffed it into a jar behind the bar, then kissed his brother's hair as he returned to his seat. "Stellar moves, bro," he said before the moment was forgotten. Breathless, Vieve smiled at his comment and his affectionate gesture towards his brother. Anthony locked his eyes into her gaze and they smiled at each other.

"Yes, brilliant," Kenneth said in his New England accent.

"Do you dance at home with Johnny like this?" Eleanor asked Yolanda.

"At home—all the time!" Yolanda said, kissing her husband's forehead and mussing his hair. "Why do you think he's so great! All that practice."

"You should see her dance!" Johnny said. "Perfection."

Johnny loved the attention from his pretty wife. Yolanda had beautiful, smooth olive skin and very long black hair, which she always tied back under a hairnet when she worked in the kitchen. She was slender and elegant and reminded Vieve of a ballerina. Her dark brows and lashes brought attention to her stunning big dark eyes with very little makeup.

When Ajay fell asleep on Alex's shoulder, Alex said, "When you're ready, we'll help you carry the kids up to your place."

"Thanks," she said. "I had so much fun I could go on for hours. But, I promised Gemma, their Mom, that the kids could spend the night with me because she needs to study hard right now." She kissed Kenneth's and Eleanor's cheeks and took Adrienne from Eleanor. She said "good-bye" to the others, and left her payment with a twenty percent tip on the table. "This was a great evening. Thanks. Lovely to see you all again," she said to Anthony, Johnny and Yolanda. "It was a pleasure to meet everyone. Goodnight."

Vieve and Alex carried the children to her loft across the street. Eleanor thought she saw Anthony watching Vieve. Kenneth confirmed it.

"So what if she's a little older," he said to her as they walked home. "A woman with her personality and a little experience is a heady, intoxicating sensation." He stopped and pulled his wife to him. "Don't I know?" Eleanor let herself be pulled into her handsome husband's chest. He kissed her under the light of the street lamp. "You are a lovely creature," he said.

Chapter 30 - Vieve's Date

"Would that there were an award for people

who come to understand the concept of

enough. Good enough. Successful enough.

Thin enough. Rich enough. Socially

responsible enough. When you have

self-respect, you have enough."

Gail Sheehy (1937—)

American author,

journalist and lecturer

ON the last Sunday in August, when Vieve entered the restaurant, Alex was waiting for her. Johnny was quick to speak to his family in the kitchen. He said to Yolanda and Joe, "Vieve's back. With Chris."

Joe peeked out the door. "Yolanda, please call the house and have Anthony come over," Joe said with an excited glint in his eyes. "You know, to feed the kids. Early, before the dinner crowd. Just get him here. Don't let him send the kids for take-out. Tell him they're discussing the firehouse roof and they need him. I'll make sure she stays." He went into the dining room, all smiles.

"This lady really gives me a run for my money," Chris said to Joe when he came to their table.

"Oh?" Joe asked.

"You know, on the elliptical, Joe. At the gym. But I could beat her in the weight room," Chris said.

"That should be the name of one of your events," Vieve jumped in. "To help fund the new roof on the firehouse. Run For The Money," she said. "I'll bet Barry would welcome the publicity for his gym. You could partner the event with local businesses. Maybe Cinnamon's and Sanjit's Bodega could get involved. I'd sign up—get my boss and some folks at work to sponsor me and donate so many dollars for so many miles on the elliptical machine or a treadmill. We might get a radio station to cover the event and get corporate sponsors with matching funds. That helps grow local small businesses in the neighborhood," she said.

"That's a wonderful idea," Joe said. "How can I help?" He sat down.

"I'd be happy to find some amateur or local talent to provide a benefit concert at Salud! If that's okay with you, Joe. There's a lot of things we can do that will be fun, build community relationships and raise money," she said. "I'll talk to my friends at work, one of the girls has done event planning. I'll donate graphics, copy and layout time and talent for posters, invitations, ads. We do need an operating fund though."

"I'll do that. And I'll talk to Barry," Chris said, referring to their personal trainer and the owner of the gym. "Toss around some dates."

"What kind of talent?" Joe said. He looked at his watch, then glanced at the door. _Where is that son of mine?_ he thought.

Vieve said with a mock-Italian accent, "You could-a sing-a Puccini." She pursed her lips as if she was kissing Joe when she spoke and gestured with her hands like he did.

He winked at her. "Can I get you anything, O mio bambino caro?" Joe asked, singing.

"Hot tea would be nice," she said smiling. It seemed she was always smiling. Vieve had her feet on the bench, knees bent, arms hugging her legs as she leaned against the half-wall at the end of the bench to discuss everything with Chris and Alex.

"I'll have a beer," Chris said. Alex doubled the order with a gesture.

When Vieve's cell phone rang she excused herself from the table and answered it. "No, I left a message on your voice-mail. I'm at a restaurant called Salud! Across the street. See it?" She waved at a man who was standing at her door. Great! Well, we have plenty of time. Why don't you come down here? Are the others with you? Why don't all of you stop by for a glass of wine? Okay. See you in a bit. Bye."

In the kitchen Joe was frantic. "Where is he?" he asked Yolanda.

She shrugged her shoulders and dropped her voice. "He said they were coming."

Joe walked back in the dining room, calm and very cool. "Don't you play the cello?" he asked Vieve as he set the pot of tea down.

She laughed. "Yes. My friend, Gemma, has a beautiful contralto voice. I'll see what I come up with," she smiled and sipped her tea as Anthony and the children came in. Sophia smiled at Vieve and Vieve blew the child a kiss. "Really, would you sing?" she asked Joe.

Before Joe answered he saw his son. "Anthony," Joe began, waving his son over to Vieve's table. "We're talking about the benefit for the firehouse roof."

"Yeah?" Tony said. He instructed his kids to sit at another table and he walked over to his father.

Chris said, "It's gonna have to be a couple of events. We're gonna try to do something with the gym and then a benefit concert here."

Joe said, "Vieve will play her cello."

"Really?" Tony said, brightening a little.

"We'll see," Vieve said, laughing. "Something will come together. A benefit concert will take a lot of rehearsal. So, in the timeline, let's put that down for early spring."

A tall, elegant looking, well-dressed man came in the door and waved at Vieve. "Hello Genevieve," he kissed her cheek.

"Patrick, hello," she said and introduced him to the others. She filled him in on the idea.

"You'll have printing and media costs if you want to do this properly. I'll be happy to underwrite some of it, since you've got a pro involved. Vieve's the best," he said, getting out his checkbook. He wrote a check to the firehouse roof fund for $1,000. "Here, this should get you started," he gave the check to Chris.

"Thanks," Chris said, wide-eyed.

"You're the guy on TV—" Alex said. Vieve grabbed Alex's pointed finger and pushed his hand down. He didn't realize he was pointing at Patrick—he was totally star struck.

"I own the Ford Mercury Dealership on Long Island," Patrick said, flashing his celebrity smile. "You've probably seen some of my commercials." He waved to three others who came in the door. "Over here," he called. "Dean, Merle and Adlee are here," he said softly to Vieve. "Come on, we're discussing a local project," he said and introduced everyone. "Can you bring us a—a Shiraz and a Merlot?" Patrick asked Joe. "A bottle of each. Brainstorming is best done over pots of tea and glasses of wine," he said, flirting with Vieve.

"This is really very nice of you," Anthony said to Patrick as Alex handed him the check. His children were getting restless and Anthony was getting distracted. Vincent was taking pot shots at Sophia's head with a rolled-up napkin and pretending it was Gabrielle who hit her.

"Why don't you bring the kids to this table, Tony," the mother in Vieve asked. "They're just hungry and bored. Sophia and Gabrielle can sit with me," she scooted down the bench to make a spot for the children and patted the empty space on either side of her.

Sophia's eyes were big as she listened to the adults and sat silently next to her friend who looked like a movie star. Vieve was different from the adult women Sophia was used to. Her hair was light, similar to the clover honey on the breakfast table, with lighter blonde highlights around her face. Her eyes were dark blue and sparkled when she was amused or laughed. Her speech sounded different. Midwestern dialect, her Nonni had explained. Vieve's skin was light and smooth and reminded Sophia of the petals on the blush pink roses in the backyard.

Gabrielle enjoyed the adult conversation and how excited everyone was with the ideas. She smiled when Vieve asked her opinion and though she had a quiet nature, she took pleasure in being included. Alex's wife, Amani, joined them and the group decided to have dinner there, and brainstormed, laughed, teased and joked, until 6:15 PM when Vieve and her friends left to see _Oklahoma!_ on Broadway.

By 11:30 PM, Vieve was out of the cab and walked to her steps softly singing the score. The large windows in the front of the restaurant were open and Joe heard Patrick's low voice and Vieve's gentle peals of laughter and decided to work at the bar so he could watch her from the window of Salud!

The cab waited as Patrick laughed and reached for her hand. Joe frowned. Patrick put his hands around Vieve's waist and tried to kiss her. Joe frowned again when she let him. Patrick whispered in her ear, then stepped back and examined her face for her reaction.

"I don't get physical this early in a relationship with a man, even when he's as attractive as you are," she said.

"You're kidding, right?" Patrick said.

She raised her eyebrows and shook her head a little.

"Vieve, I'm willing to spend a lot of money on you. Shows, restaurants, trips. I need to be physical," Patrick said. "I think sex is fun."

"I think sex is fun too. Being pampered would be nice. And I want to be physical—I want to have mind-blowing sex with a wonderful man," she said. "I want an adventurous relationship where we help each other be the best versions of ourselves and provide each other with a soft place to land."

"So that's it?" he said.

She said nothing, but smiled.

"That could take a lot of time," he said checking his watch. "I just want to have fun."

Again, she raised her eyebrows. "I didn't expect us to pair off tonight. This was supposed to be a group thing. But, I had a wonderful evening," she said. "I'll do a good job for your sponsorship of the event. You'll get a lot of bang for your bucks."

"I know you will. Goodnight Vieve," he pecked her cheek and jumped in the cab that was waiting.

Joe closed the windows. He was delighted to see Patrick walk away and get in the cab. On his way back to the kitchen he chuckled and swooped Rosemary in his arms and sang as he danced with her across the kitchen floor.

As for Vieve, she wasn't even disappointed with Patrick's response. She was flattered that he thought she was attractive enough to seek out, but it was clear that he didn't want what she wanted. Simply put, he wasn't the man for her. _Wow!_ She thought, _my confidence and sensibilities have returned._

She had become conscious that she had been running from the unlovable parts of herself and Jim fanned those negative feelings to control her. Post-Jim she had resisted the urge to pair up with a man until she felt she could positively accept those insufferable parts of herself and continue to become the best version of herself. Until she resolved this and worked on herself, a romantic partner would only be a momentary comfort. She was responsible for her own restoration to a good place.

Vieve was pleased when she realized she had come a long way in the past six months. Boundaries were intact which protected her personal identity and authenticity. And, best of all, she had preserved her self-worth. She had remained authentically Vieve.

Chapter 31 - Anthony's Feelings

"So, I love you because the entire

universe conspired to help me find you."

Paulo Coehlo (1947 –)

Brazilian lyricist and novelist

JOHNNY commented to his brother when he saw Anthony watching Vieve that evening. "I love that she's so grounded. She's great, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Anthony said. "I was Vincent's age when I hooked up with Katie. I don't even know how to approach a classy woman like Vieve."

"She's like anyone else, Anth," Johnny said. "You just ask her out."

Anthony muttered that he wondered if she was out of his league.

"Nonsense," Johnny had said as he affectionately slapped Anthony's back. "She likes you. Good things begin with friendship. You'll figure out the best approach. Just give it some time. I have faith in you bro."

Chapter 32 - LeVar's Plans

"Always be careful of what you hear

about a woman. Rumors come from

either a man who can't have her or

a woman who can't compete with her."

Unknown author

LeVAR knew he would find everything he needed to track down Ruby. He researched the names of directors of non-profit shelters in the area. He started offering a lawn mowing service to people on every street in Cincinnati where a Dr. Henderson, a Ms. Palmer or a Ms. Levinson lived. As he moved southward, he struck gold. He saw Charlie and Delores drive up one Saturday afternoon and he recognized them from the newspaper photo in an article Ruby had cut out to save.

Tom Goode, who had played the violin with Vieve's cello accompaniment so many times in homes on this street, paid LeVar in cash. He saw LeVar look up as the Henderson's drove in their driveway, across the street. LeVar saw that Tom had seen his knowing glance and he said, "That's Dr. Henderson. He's doing God's work, isn't he? I have a friend that he helped at his Shelter and she's doing really well today."

"Yeah," Tom smiled. "You know, nobody says anything about it, but Vieve Chapman, down the street, used to work for the shelter and then she disappeared. We kind of figured that she took off. The husband is pretty controlling."

"Yeah," LeVar grinned. "I remember that. My friend said she is a real nice lady. Happened last spring."

"That's right!" Tom said. "Next week?"

"Thanks Mr. Goode. Yes. I'll see you next week."

As LeVar drove down the street in his mother's pickup truck he spotted the house with "Chapman" on the mailbox. There was a realtors _for sale_ sign in the front yard. This was going to be easier than he thought.

Chapter 33 - Dr. Paulson

"The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new

landscapes but in having new eyes."

Valentin Louis Georges Eugéne

Marcel Proust (1871 –1922)

French novelist, critic and essayist

IN the dimly lit office, Dr. Paulson asked Vieve if she had worked out her feelings. When she said she had, she told him the story about returning from their honeymoon and how she wanted an annulment or a divorce because Jim was so harsh.

"Did Jim put any pressure on you to change your appearance?" Dr. Paulson asked from his desk.

"Oh my God, yes!" she exclaimed. "He always wanted me to look slutty when we went out. When I objected, he told me I was frigid. He became angry, and he told me I should flaunt my breasts. He said it should get me hot when men looked at my body. I told him I didn't want other men looking at my breasts and he shouldn't want it either. I said, 'You're not my pimp! You're my husband!'"

"How did he respond?" Dr. Paulson asked.

"Jim said, 'You're really kind of a prude.' I remember telling him that just that morning he said I was a great lover, very sexy and inventive. Now he was telling me I was a prude? He didn't make any sense."

"How did it go for you?" Dr. Paulson asked.

"I remember saying that I didn't like to look slutty. And I wasn't going to let him take naked pictures of me to submit to Penthouse."

Dr. Paulson said, "Vieve, Jim is a classic narcissist. A lot of narcissists bought into the Hefner Playboy 'Madonna-whore' complex where they wanted a young wife with a 'girl-next-door' face and a voluptuous figure. Narcissist's are hands down the most difficult personalities to have any kind of relationship with. Jim is a loner. People who are emotionally unavailable often do everything they can to evade conflict because it demands an emotional attendance." He paused, "There is a lot of learning in failure. But the abuser is not willing to think this way. They stand behind an impenetrable barricade of self-righteousness."

"That's Jim to a tee."

"What attracted you to Jim?"

"I thought he was strong—had strength of character."

"Young, inexperienced women often think that of abusive men. How do you feel about Jim now...after you've got some space from the years of being married to him?"

"People do what they want to do. Jim made his choices. I'm thrilled I'm not married to him anymore."

"Is there any resentment or bitterness?"

"No," Vieve said quickly. She looked up with bright eyes and a face filled with relief. "The Henderson's helped me to see that as I forgave myself, it became easier to forgive others. I have no rancor towards Jim. I realized that I learned so much from the experience of being married to him and that experience is valuable. I was such a Pollyanna when I connected with him. But without him I wouldn't be the person I am today. I've learned to be more reasonable and tolerant...and I am much more forgiving and generous towards other people and their limitations because of Jim. But, I'm grateful I'm out of that relationship. I did not deserve to be treated the way I was treated." She sighed and continued, "I'm also grateful for having the two boys. If I didn't have Jim in my life there would be no Peter or Sammy. I love my sons very much. I want Jim's voice, his whisper about the way I should do things, the echo of how he made decisions—I want all that away from my consciousness forever. I'm even succeeding in that."

"Good. Next week, Vieve. Same time."

When she left the building, she decided to walk for a while in Central Park, even though the temperature had turned cold. She felt the chill and it reminded her of spending twenty-five years with Jim. She considered the frostiness of their relationship and remembered how cold her own mother had been when she grew up. She smiled and shook her head at the thought: _I married my mother._

During the winter, each time she would have a session with Dr. Paulson, she would treat herself to a walk in Central Park. The landscape became more than a friendly spot. It beckoned her like a welcoming friend. Like Eleanor.

Chapter 34 - LeVar's Stalking

"I think the very word stalking implies

that you're not supposed to like it.

Otherwise, it would be called 'fluffy

harmless observation time'."

Molly Harper

American author

FROM the shadows of the warehouse across the street, LeVar watched people going and coming from the shelter in Cincinnati and he began to examine the little behaviors among the women who worked there.

It didn't take long. He saw a woman who was more easily distracted than the others. A little less sure of herself. The next day, after he showered, shaved and changed into his good clothes, he sought her out.

"Ma'am," he spoke gently. "Ma'am. I'm sorry to be botherin' you. I heard about my sister Ruby's troubles and I came here, from Virginia, as soon as I could get time off work. I wanted to help her. But her landlord and a neighbor said she wasn't living at her apartment any more. They hadn't seen her in weeks. They suggested I come here." He handed her an envelope. "I know I can't go inside, but will you please tell her that her brother, Jackson, is here to help her. And give her this. It's a note from our Momma. It has my hotel phone number so she can call me. I know how careful she has to be with that ex-husband of hers. Can I know your name? In case I need to speak to someone about Ruby or the children?"

"Melissa," she said.

"Thanks, Miss Melissa. For all your help and your fine work too. Y'all are doin' the Lord's work."

She went inside. He lingered outside the door.

Melissa went straight to Charlie Henderson. She hadn't finished telling the story to Charlie and he rushed outside to the front of the building looking for Jackson. The street was deserted, except for two squirrels who chased each other up the utility poles and frightened the birds that sat on the lines like notes against a page of written music. Charlie returned to his office. He called Delores, Dr. Wallers and Gloria, a member of his staff. He asked Melissa to recount every detail to them.

"What did you say to him?" Charlie asked.

"I only told him my name."

"If that ever happens again just tell them that Dr. Wallers or I will want to meet him to thank him for his kindness. He's probably the guy who's been going through the trash—the security cameras picked it up." Charlie smiled. "You did very well. You revealed nothing. Excellent job, Melissa." He pointed to the envelope. "Let's see what we have."

Delores, Melissa, Dr. Wallers and Gloria remained in the room while Charlie opened the envelope. They found not a note, but folded newspaper. None of them were surprised.

"He was Ruby's ex-husband?" Melissa asked. "He was soooo nice."

Charlie explained, "Abusers are amazing charmers. They are very manipulative. And if we hadn't shredded every document, or if you felt comfortable with him and gave him information or actually brought Ruby or the kids out, or told him Ruby wasn't here, you can bet that Ruby wouldn't be safe now. We know that she is safe. Now that she's disappeared, it's as if she's been put in the witness protection program. Of course, he doesn't need to know any of that."

Chapter 35 - Dr. Paulson Revisited

"If the only tool you have is a hammer,

you tend to see every problem as a nail."

Abraham Maslow (1908 – 1970)

American Psychologist

AT her next visit to the psychologist, Vieve followed the man's instructions and took three deliberate, deep breaths. On the third breath, she slowly counted to six as she exhaled, stopped for two beats and then counted six beats as she inhaled. The office lighting was dimmed, and her eyes were closed. Dr. Paulson's voice said, "Vieve, tell me about the first time you felt that way."

The memories were immediate and visual. She was propelled back to when she was four years old. Dr. Paulson said, "So when you were four, you had no control of the situation, did you? What kind of expectations did your Mother have of you?"

"She expected me to be an extension of herself the way Paulette, my sister, is. When I behaved differently from my Mother, her skewed perceptions told her that I was rebellious."

"So, do you see how that faulty pattern of thinking, especially about the way love feels, developed within you?"

Vieve said, "I do see that. I wanted to please my parents. I was close to Dad when I was very little, but that all changed."

"When did that change?"

"I can't remember."

"You said your Mother had a substance abuse problem. Relax, close your eyes, take a slow deep breath. Again. Tell me a memory of when everything changed."

She did as he asked. After a few moments she began, "One time, when I was twelve, Dad asked how I liked the gifts my Mother just gave me. I told him that the reason for the gifts was because Mom had been on a drinking binge and everything she gave me was a bribe because she had blacked out. These were to 'hush' me and the merchandise should be returned. I certainly didn't need it. He told me to enjoy them because he had no idea where they came from. I asked him what he was going to do about her drinking. I told him Mom was having black outs."

"How did you know that?" Dr. Paulson asked.

"I read about Alcoholism in a Medical reference book at the Library."

"How did your Dad respond?"

"He said, 'I'm totally frustrated. I'm afraid if anyone finds out, you and your sister will be placed in a foster home. I made a vow to your mother for better or for worse. God, if I don't buy her the booze, she keeps me up all night, badgering me. Nagging at me. You know how she gets.' Mom had memorized her credit cards account numbers, and she kept running up debt that he couldn't afford. He asked me to just keep quiet about it and to give him some time while he tried to figure something out."

Vieve sighed and continued, "He asked me to promise him that I would never nag at my husband. He said that being a submissive wife was such a pleasure to observe and to experience."

Dr. Paulson said, "That was twelve-year old Vieve. How would you have handled that conversation today?"

"Wow! I'd have spoken up. Gotten help for Mom and Dad. I'd help cancel Mom's credit accounts. I'd put stops at the credit bureau for all new accounts. I know that it happened a long time ago and we were living in a different social culture then. Also, a submissive wife doesn't mean letting your husband treat you any way he wants to. You know, I was very close to my father until then. He still tried to speak up for me and protect me from my mother's emotional cruelty. But, by then he had pretty much abdicated to Mom's power."

Dr. Paulson smiled at her and relaxed in his chair. "You are about to reconnect with your all of your feelings. All these years you've been numb because it hurt too much to have feelings. Your homework for the week is to remember experiences and then slowly explore the feelings that are attached to them. You've gotten dysfunctional behaviors mixed up with how love is supposed to feel. Experience not just the memory, but become that child or young wife and allow the feelings to pour back into yourself. Write them down. Linger in them. See them so vividly it's as if you're watching a motion picture. Then, if you can, write about how you would have solved the problem, or handled the situation differently, now. Think about the advice you would give a young woman if you saw that she was experiencing the same thing. We'll discuss them next time. That will probably be our last session. You've really come a long way, Vieve."

"I know that I have," she said cheerfully. "I'm not the same person I was and now that I truly like myself, I have a lot of really good friends. New ones, and the old, worthwhile ones are steadily coming back into my life."

"It's the Law of Abundance and the Law of Attraction. Your personal frequencies are rising. You are shifting into the better version of yourself. Excellent!"

Chapter 36 - Sophia's on the Doorstep again

"The universe is made of

stories, not atoms."

Muriel Rukeyser (1913 – 1980)

American Poet

WHEN Vieve came home from her afternoon run from the gym, Sophia was on her steps. Vieve bent over as her lungs greedily breathed air. She was winded and hot.

"What happened to 'em?" Sophia asked.

"Who?" Vieve asked, panting.

"Your two boys who used to be little," Sophia said. "Did they die?"

Vieve flopped down on the step below the girl. She fanned herself with Sophia's coloring book. "No. They grew up. They live far away." Vieve saw Joe's face at the window of the restaurant. He waved and she nodded.

"Do ya miss 'em?" Sophia asked.

Vieve was surprised at herself. She said, "Yes. Sometimes I miss them a lot."

"Do ya cry?" Sophia asked.

Vieve nodded. "Yep, kiddo. Sometimes."

Sophia said, "Sometimes I really miss my Mommy. And sometimes I cry."

"What do you miss the most about your Mommy?" Vieve asked.

"Her face," she was serious. "I don't remember her face. Vincent said that Daddy didn't used to be so grouchy when she was here," Sophia said.

"Vincent?" Vieve asked.

"My brother," Sophia said. "We're going to the Lib-ary. I'm apposed to meet him at the front door of the restaurant," she pointed across the street.

"Please say 'supposed'. Oh yes, now I remember Vincent," Vieve said. "When grownups have a lot on their minds sometimes they act grouchy. Your Daddy still loves you very much. He just needs you to keep loving him back."

"What do you miss about your boys?" Sophia asked.

"Their faces," Vieve said. "They had blond hair and blue eyes and chubby cheeks, kiddo."

"Like Mr. C. The letter people. Mr. C is Chubby Cheeks. What are their names?"

"Peter and Sam," Vieve said. "What was her name?"

Sophia let out an exasperated sigh. "I told you. Mommy."

"Of course. Pardon me," Vieve said.

"I gotta go, kiddo," Sophia said running towards a boy who looked to be about eleven or twelve and who Vieve remembered from the restaurant the night of Alex's party and then when she went to see Oklahoma! She could have pegged Vincent by his commanding, authoritative body language. The little girl glanced at Vieve and smiled just before she wiped her runny nose with the back of her hand. Then she cheerfully trotted down the street next to Vincent.

By the end of the week Sophia was back on the steps. "Don't you have school today?" Vieve asked. She looked at the time on her cell phone: 7:50 AM.

Sophia nodded and hung her head. "I'm not going ever again. I'm just going to pretend to go to school and come over here and hang out with you."

"Well, I have to go to work," Vieve said. "Uh oh. Is that really huge, huge problem back," Vieve asked. "Juanita and Daniel?" She stretched to see the schoolyard, but there was no activity.

"Nope kiddo," Sophia said. "It's way more huger than that. It's the mostest hugest."

"Well, kiddo, do you want to talk about it?" Vieve asked. "If I get to help you it will help me not to miss my boys so much."

Sophia whispered and leaned forward. "I can read," she said.

"Really? Great!" Vieve said.

"Gabrielle and Vincent taught me how. We used to play 'school' a lot when Mommy was sick. Miss Washburne doesn't like it. She yells at me because I know the answers. Then when I get yelled at I won't raise my hand. Then she yells at me more because she wants me to answer. It's horrible," Sophia sighed as she disclosed the facts of her problems.

"I can imagine. How does it make you feel?" Vieve asked.

Sophia shrugged her shoulders. Vieve said, "I think it would make me feel confused and sad."

"Yep, kiddo," Sophia said. "That's how I feel. Confused and sad."

"Is your Daddy still grouchy?" Vieve asked.

Sophia nodded and made a face.

"Since your Daddy has a lot on his mind what you do think if I talked to the teacher again?" Vieve asked.

"Okay," Sophia said, jumping up, ready to tackle the world. "How do we walk this time?"

Vieve furrowed her brow, "What do you mean?"

"Last time we were mad and walked like this," she stomped. "Now we're confused and sad. How do we walk?"

Vieve took wide strides and hung her head. She held her hands behind her. "Sad walks like this," she said. Together they walked sadly down the street.

Before they entered the class, Sophia said, "Would you please ask my Daddy to go out with you and your friends? I think he is grouchy because he's forgotten how to make new friends."

"I will, darling," Vieve said. Once in the school Vieve nodded to Sophia to take her place in her assigned seat since the class had started. "Miss Washburne, I want to thank you for taking a few minutes to speak to me. I didn't realize that Sophia's reading skills were causing a problem in your class."

"It's not a problem," Miss Washburne said. "It's just that she is very advanced and yet she's so small and only barely five. It wouldn't be fair to place her in a higher grade. She reads at third grade level."

"Her brother and sister taught her," Vieve said softly. "She said you are yelling at her."

The teacher sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I guess I do yell at the children. I'm so frustrated. We have kids that do not understand the letter people, others who can't speak English and then a child as bright as Sophia," the teacher was exasperated. "We have five different language groups in this kindergarten class."

"Then how can Sophia be part of the solution?" Vieve asked.

The teacher thought for a moment and said, "Perhaps she can mentor some of the children who don't have the skills she has. Make a game of it? I could arrange to put them in small groups for twenty minutes or so."

"Yes! Excellent suggestion!" Vieve said.

"I'll try not to yell so much. I know she is a sensitive child."

"Thank you for trying this."

"Will you be at the Parent-Teacher's conference on Thursday?"

"No. Her father will handle that. Thank you for providing more supervision," Vieve said with her winning grin.

"You're welcome. I appreciate that you came to me," Miss Washburne said.

"It's fine," Vieve said. "I understand you have many challenges." She smiled and blew a kiss to Sophia. Sophia caught it and smacked it against her cheek. She gave Vieve a bright, beaming grin. All was well in that child's world, just as it should be.

Vieve had been working very hard to achieve win-win solutions and this had worked. Like Dr. Paulson had advised, the positive solution came from collaboration and focusing on the positive. Vieve was very pleased her involvement ended in a positive outcome.

Chapter 37 - Parent Teacher Conference

"Every parent teacher conference

should come with a complimentary

shot of tequila."

PaRANThood on FB

SOPHIA proudly led her father through rows of tiny tables and chairs. After Sophia pointed to her pictures on the wall, she and her friend, Marcy went to check on the bean plant project that grew in thirty-four foam cups in the windowsill. Tony shook hands with Miss Washburne.

"How's my little girl doing?" he asked.

"Very well! Sophia is a joy to teach. She is a born leader," Miss Washburne kept looking around. "Are you alone, sir?" she asked as she looked beyond him.

"Yes," Tony said, looking over his shoulder.

"After we got those little problems ironed out, things have gone very smoothly," Miss Washburne said.

"Little problems?" Tony asked.

"Look Captain DeLuca," the teacher said firmly. "I know I should have been supervising the schoolyard better. But after I spoke to your wife about it, everything has been fine."

"My wife?" Tony was puzzled. "Oh! You must mean my mother!"

"Your mother?" Miss Washburne said, gasping and putting her hand over her mouth. "Oh, I'm so embarrassed. She's a beautiful woman! So, young looking!"

The man furrowed his brow. "We are really proud of her. She's such a take-charge person."

"I've noticed," Miss Washburne said. "What's her secret?"

Tony thought for a moment then brightened, "Qi Dong in the park."

"Really? I'll have to tell my Mom," she said. "Wow! Qi Dong."

Chapter 38 - Tony

"When you want something, all the universe

conspires in helping you to achieve it."

Paulo Coehlo (1947 –)

Brazilian lyricist and novelist

"CINNAMON'S called and said they had another case of that Spirulina energy stuff for us. You want I should go pick it up?" Mario asked.

Anthony DeLuca looked at the store on the corner, across two streets. Cinnamon's was written in golden italic script across the window and from here he could almost read it. "Where's Alex?"

"He's sanitizing the trash cans in back. You want I should get him?"

DeLuca watched Vieve enter the store. "No. I'll go."

When he entered the store, Eleanor looked up and smiled. "Tony!" she cried, running to him, standing on tiptoes to kiss and hug him. "Vieve, you remember our Captain DeLuca?"

"Yes!" Vieve said cheerfully. "Good to see you again."

"Thanks. Good to see you too."

"Kelly sent me prints. I've been meaning to bring them by." She opened her bag, fiddled for a moment with the contents and then gave him an envelope. "Everyone looks great. She got an A on her photo essay. Thanks."

"Anytime," he said. "Thanks," he said to Eleanor as he picked up the case of twenty-four bottles of Spirulina Energy formula and said good-bye. When Vieve opened the door for him the bell jingled.

They walked towards the firehouse together.

Vieve said, "Did you know that Sophia is worried about you? She doesn't think you have any fun and she asked me to invite you out with friends when we're doing something."

"Oh?" he said.

"I promised her I would. So, on the 12th some of us at work are going down for a Jerry Lee Lewis retrospective at Columbia's School for the Arts. Interested?"

"Yeah." He checked his phone calendar. "I'm not working. Thanks."

"I'm glad you can go because the gorgeous Tallulah Peterson will be there. I'd love for you to meet her. I told her how wonderful you are."

"Okay, Thanks. You wanna take the subway together that night?"

"Good idea. Sure."

Chapter 39 - La Clemenza di Tito

"If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...

I could walk through my garden forever."

Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809 – 1892)

British poet laureate

A FEW weeks after the Jerry Lee Lewis retrospective, Rebecca, who worked with Vieve, decided to have a singles mixer for the Opera. Everyone was to invite another single person of the opposite gender, someone that they were not interested in dating. The evening would begin at a restaurant, with hors d'oeuvres and drinks, and then on to see _La Clemenza di Tito_. The intention was to expand dating contacts and opportunities. Vieve remembered Sophia's request and invited Tony and told him the guidelines and Rebecca's purpose. He accepted.

He met Charlotte and Lacey and Brittany that evening, but he watched Vieve, the social butterfly, skip about the restaurant, alighting here to cause some amusement and flitting to the other side of the table, enjoying popularity there. She was very friendly, an extrovert with a capital E, full of laughter, and both men and women were entertained by her. At another table, she became involved in a serious discussion with a professor of women's studies at Columbia. After the opera, they went home via the same subway and he walked her home.

"Oh my God!" Vieve exclaimed. "That singing was so beautiful!"

Tony laughed.

"Didn't ya just love it! I mean love it, love it, love it!" Vieve teased as she jumped towards his face.

"Yeah," he put his hands up and laughed. "I loved it, you silly, funny, lady!"

A car stopped for a light and they heard bluesy, rock rhythms. She danced around him and crooned to the song.

He laughed again, "I've never seen you like this!"

"I feel so giddy! " she said as she shimmied around the sidewalk. "I think I just enjoy you, so much."

Tony laughed. "Good."

"I can be the real Vieve around dear friends, like you, Tony."

"Thanks. What a compliment," he said. "It's nice to be able to really feel like you can be yourself, whatever the mood you're in."

"Yes," she said. "I have to be serious now, though. We're passing a—," her voice dropped and she whispered through gritted teeth, "Catholic Church. You can never be your real self near a Catholic Church."

Tony looked at the impressive structure and confessed, "I'm having some problems with the Catholic Church, with organized religion in general."

"Me too," Vieve agreed.

"When Katie died I let my Mom and Dad take the kids to Mass once. But I couldn't attend, and I couldn't let them go back. It all seemed so hypocritical and I couldn't tell my kids, or let a priest tell them, that a loving God wanted their Mom with Him. I told Father Ryan that would be saying God's selfish, that He caused Katie's suffering and our grief, and it's unacceptable. I didn't want my kids screwed up with a notion like that."

"Good for you," Vieve said. "Religion should be meaningful. I was a cradle Catholic too and I've got my concerns as well. I came to feel that I was spending time in a belief system that guarantees you won't get to where you want to go, even though you're trying your best to do the work. You'd have to buy in to a lot of guilt to keep it up when it's just a bunch of narrow-minded, old, white men's rules that don't really have anything to do with what Jesus and the Apostles taught. Like a bad piece of gossip, it grew through the ages. Those notions stuck to everyone."

"Yeah. Well the Church has always had uncontested power and absolute power corrupts absolutely," he said. "Through the centuries came all the personality flaws, mental illness, judgments that the keepers of those notions perpetuated. Even the little things can spread and cause damage to people. Now, more than ever, you have to be observant. With what's been happening in the Church and the way things are being exposed, we all better do some serious thinking."

She nodded and kicked at a cigarette butt. "There came a time when I stopped trusting everything my parents had taught me, too. Blind, emotional faith doesn't cut it. Years ago, I needed help. Serious help for Jim and me. The priest made things worse," Vieve said sadly.

"Really? What happened?" Tony asked.

"So, much it's hard to talk about. I call it the _immaculate deception to our comprehension_. I should have left Jim early on. I shouldn't have gone to my priest for help. I was so young and inexperienced and I really thought the priest would make things better, but he not only didn't help me, he made everything worse. Two young women who were like me, lost their lives because of abusive husbands and that priest's bad advice. But, I was raised to feel guilty, so I got guilty. Now I realize that under stress guilty people get guilty, sad people get sad, angry people get angry."

"I think Tony Robbins said that."

"Yes. I think so."

"Anyway, anyone who is in a position of authority and with a duty to help someone, like a priest is, should be like a good doctor," he said. "First, do no harm."

"Brilliant," Vieve said.

"When good Catholics decided that Vatican II said it was okay to eat meat on Fridays, what happened to all the Catholics who were in Hell or Purgatory or being punished for eating meat on Fridays?" Tony asked. "There were a lot of them when you consider the centuries all that went on. Or Birth Control?"

"Yes. By the time my grandparents had been married for 12 years, they had ten children." Vieve raised her eyebrows at the topic. "Where does a person look for answers though? While I do believe there is one benevolent and beneficent Almighty—just try to explain the origin of a blade of grass—I also think that there is a lot to be learned from broadening our scope. Take Eastern philosophy. The 'how-to' from Eastern thinking resonates well with me."

"I've had some good conversations with Kenneth and Eleanor Meadows about that. You know they are Buddhists," he said. "Kenneth is putting together a Male Tantric Sexuality workshop. From what he's told me, he's presenting it very intelligently. I'm really impressed."

"Interesting. If Eleanor does one on Female Sexuality everyone in Columbia Heights will be having Tantric sex."

Tony laughed. "Tantra means 'the weaving and expansion of energy' and involves more than sex. It involves all the senses and being present, in the moment."

"Huh. So, there weren't any sparks with Brittany?"

He shook his head. "She seemed like a nice person though. Very pretty. I don't think we're on the same wave length."

"Couldn't see her involved in raising your children," Vieve asked.

He shook his head and rocked on his feet as they waited for the light to change. "No, not at all. That requires so much. Wisdom, experience, sensitivity, love, so many things are involved in raising children."

"She really liked you. I could tell," she giggled. "Don't you want to see what happens after you spend some time together?" she asked.

"I'm a pretty good judge of character. No thanks." He made a face and stuck his hands in his pockets. They had walked to her building. He said, "To me, intelligence—actually, wisdom is most important. Women my age and younger don't often have the substance I need, you know, partly because of the kids, but I want that too. One of the most people-intensive jobs today is being a parent. I've got to think about my responses to my kids very carefully. Without a positive image of themselves, kids don't have the basis to make decisions in their own best interests. I'm really interested in finding someone to share my life with and my kids are a big part of that life right now. They will be for the next several years."

"They will be a big part of your life forever." She smiled into his face. "You're such a doll. Honestly. Someone who's perfect for you is going to come along and see what a peach you truly are," she said. Vieve reached up and patted one cheek and pecked the other one. "Thanks for seeing me home." She hopped up the outside steps. "And thanks for letting me cut loose and be ridiculously silly."

He nodded and the entire top half of his body seemed to nod with him. "Good-night Vieve," he said with a little wave as he turned to leave. "Thanks for the invitation."

"Sure. Hey! Benefit next Saturday! Good-night Tony," she said as she unlocked the door.

She'd look for a girl who loved kids and had great interpersonal skills. Vieve described him as a guy who was gentle, a fixer, almost nurturing. Men with a public service bent generally prefer the strong, silent heroism of battling external forces to people-intensive jobs. Tony wasn't a quiet introvert. He loved parties and he was a thoughtful communicator. She admired and respected how in tune he was with his kids and how they adored him, even though Sophia described him as grumpy. At least he was having more fun these days. An almost six-year-old girl who loved her Daddy had seen to that.

Chapter 40 - Benefit Concert

"If you want to change something in your life you have

to change something or someone—YOU!"

Pam Farrel, _Seven Simple Skills for Every Woman:_

Success in Keeping Everything Together

GEMMA stood before the mirror and applied glossy red lipstick to her full mouth. She took several deep breaths with closed eyes to steady herself. Her skin glowed with health and youth.

Vieve walked into the Ladies room and said, "Wow! Red is your color girlfriend!" Gemma had been walking more, and this firmed areas that made her curvy figure even more curvy. Her very shapely self looked fabulous in a clingy, red, strapless evening gown that she and Vieve had found in a consignment shop. The color popped against her chocolate colored, creamy skin. "Here," Vieve gave her a pair of dangly rhinestone earrings. "Anything else is gilding the lily."

"You're the lily," Gemma said.

"Thanks. I love your hair," Vieve said touching the edges carefully. "It's so soft and feminine."

"It's a perm on large rods," Gemma said.

"Gorgeous."

Vieve wore a black shirred top that was draped, exposing her shoulders and tops of her arms. Crinkled gauze black pants gathered at her waist and fell in soft folds over her hips. Red toenails peeked from bright red stiletto toeless pumps. She felt happy and very pretty. Eleanor and Kenneth were going to introduce her to their single friend, Walt. That cheered her. She wasn't getting the male attention that she had gotten in high school and college, but some men still thought she was attractive. To experience being appealing and appreciated by a man's eyes was a lovely sensation. She felt beautiful tonight.

Rosemary DeLuca tapped at the door. "Time," she said.

The women took their places on the stage at Salud! The restaurant was filled and the large windows to the street were open. Outdoor heaters, bistro tables and more chairs had been rented or borrowed, because even the sidewalk was filled with people. Tickets had been sold at $250.00 per couple or $125.00 for a single seat, which included antipasto appetizers, lasagna, salad and garlic bread, cannoli's, and red wine. The DeLuca's were only charging for actual cost of the meals so the fund could get the most benefit. Labor was donated. Rosemary and Joe donated $1,000.00 of their personal money to the cause. Joe said he had to show his gratitude, not just for the crew who protected the neighborhood, but also for the publicity the restaurant was getting.

Kelly came out for the weekend and early this morning she and Vieve had draped handkerchief linen at the charcoal-colored ceiling of the stage and then draped more of the linen hued fabric on the two walls of the stage. From there they hung ropes of tiny white twinkling lights. Kelly talked about her long-distance relationship with Chris.

"We have a date night once each week," Kelly had explained. "We each rent or stream the same movie and we both get on the speaker phone and we share the experience together. It works for us."

This evening, Gemma sat high on a bar stool and Vieve sat on a chair adjusting her cello with the endpin or spike on the floor. The audience hushed in anticipation.

Vieve steadied the instrument between her knees, and leaned it against her chest. In early times, female cellists sometimes played sidesaddle, since it was considered improper for a lady to part her knees in public. The neck of the cello was above her left shoulder, and the C-String tuning peg was just behind her left ear. She would press the fingertips of her left hand into the strings on the neck of the instrument, and bow with her right hand. Vieve adjusted the microphone on the stand that was positioned to capture the sounds the instrument would make. Another higher microphone would capture her voice when she provided back-up vocals for Gemma, or when she addressed the audience. Maurice, played the percussion, not much more than a snare, for the trio. Vieve looked up and smiled at Eleanor and Kenneth Meadows and Walt.

Johnny was the host. He wore a tuxedo that Yolanda had found at the Big and Tall men's store. He'd grown a van dyke beard, like his brother had, and he looked very handsome. His hair was so much darker than brown-haired Tony and he looked like Joe. Tony looked like his mother. Still, the DeLuca family resemblance was strong—there was no question that they were brothers.

Johnny began, "Thank you for attending this benefit concert, ladies and gentlemen. We've had to expand our venue tonight to the outside. Since this is a Firehouse Benefit we didn't want to break any fire codes." The audience chuckled and Johnny continued. "I'd like to introduce the members of the Middagh Street Firehouse Trio: our vocalist is Gemma King, with Genevieve Sloan on strings, and Maurice Ricks on percussion. Their first song is an old traditional folk piece that Gemma has been singing since she was a girl."

They began. Gemma's voice was as cool as an undulating wave, rising and falling like a lazy natural tide. She sang La Vie En Rose, and other bluesy, jazzy pieces.

"This next piece is written for eight cellos and a soprano. We've adjusted it for our contralto, but we are woefully inadequate on the cellos," Vieve said to the audience.

"We could get more cellos, but then you'd need more arms," Gemma said, smiling.

"Uh-huh," Vieve said. "Let's not go there."

When the audience chuckled, Joe smiled at Rosemary, Johnny and Anthony. Joe loved music like Vieve loved music. He watched as Vieve threw her head back and centered herself and began bowing moody and expressive notes. As Gemma sang, Vieve beamed with the pride that comes from knowing where this young woman had come from. The soulful sounds that poured out of Gemma's beautiful mouth originated from a healing heart. Yesterday, she and Vieve spent half of a day at the Red Door Salon for a makeover, and Gemma emerged like a beautiful butterfly leaving the chrysalis, pumping life into newly spread wings.

The audience was completely charmed with the soothing, happy music. Vieve and Gemma took their bows at the standing ovation. They sat down again.

"This next song is a favorite of my friend, Vieve's," Gemma said shyly. "In the Portuguese language, the lover says to their beloved, 'If you will teach me to make lace, I will teach you to make love'." Vieve raised her eyebrows and glanced at Eleanor. Vieve laid her cello down and picked up an acoustic guitar. Gemma began crooning as Vieve played the Portuguese rhythms and sang back up to the happy love song.

At the conclusion of the benefit concert Vieve and Gemma asked Joe DeLuca to join them. Since Vieve had suggested it, he sang Puccini, a cappella. His rich, booming baritone voice filled the room and Gemma accompanied him. Finished, he kissed them both amid applause, and thanked everyone for attending. That he was thrilled to have been able to perform showed in his light steps, almost a skip, and the happy way he accepted Rosemary's doe-eyed kisses.

Chris and Kelly applauded from their table. They dressed for the evening out, many people did. Chris was in a suit and tie and Kelly wore a blue evening dress. Chris left Kelly at their table and he brought Gemma and Vieve each a bouquet of red roses. From the stage Chris said the concert had netted over $6,000. All together, the events and the donations surpassed their goal and $33,475 had been raised. This included matching funds promised from a couple of corporations. All of the sponsors were listed on both the program and the table tents. Sponsors were also listed on the posters that were around the neighborhood. Johnny reminded everyone to continue supporting these local and corporate businesses. The firehouse roof would be completely restored and good for another forty years at least. He introduced Captain DeLuca in the audience.

Anthony stood up from a table where he sat with his children. They were all dressed magnificently for the event. He thanked everyone for their support and explained that if there were excess funds they would be given to the FDNY Foundation. He reiterated that he was very touched with the success, the monies received and the support of the local community. All of the firefighters who attended stood up and bowed while their partners radiated pride in the applause.

Kenneth brought Walt over to meet Vieve as she put her cello in the case. He was an elegant man with salt and peppered hair, clean-shaven and had an air of prosperity about him. His eyes approved of the vivacious Vieve Sloan and the foursome shared a second bottle of wine together at a table in the corner of Salud!

Anthony watched Vieve as she sipped fragrant, herbal and earthy, red wine from his father's cellar. He was quiet and moody. Sophia pulled Gabrielle to Vieve and Vieve introduced the girls to Walt. She and Eleanor hugged them both and told them how beautiful they looked. Then the girls went to visit Chris and Kelly. Anthony continued to be distracted by the party at the Meadows table. Every so often their voices would drop as they listened to someone's story and then the party would laugh. Kenneth said he was in the mood to dance and had heard of a great 40s club with a Humphrey Bogart theme. When the party left, Walt offered Vieve his arm and she smiled at his face and accepted it. Anthony seemed testy, which was odd because this was the end to a very successful event for the firehouse. He excused himself and went home. He told the kids they could come upstairs when they wanted to.

Johnny and Yolanda watched from the kitchen. "Anthony left. Everyone else is having fun. He looked grouchy," Johnny said.

"That's a good thing," Joe said. "Let him think about this wonderful woman who's so good to his kids and who is right under his nose."

Chapter 41 - Tony's Announcement

"You put the grand in Grandfathers."

Author unknown

THE next morning Anthony poured a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. Joe read the newspaper and Rosemary set out plates of eggs and sausage. Gabrielle buttered toast and Vincent placed three kinds of fruit jams on the table. Amid this, Anthony said to the kids and his parents, "You know. I'm probably going to get married again one day. I don't want to be alone forever. I hope you understand that."

Gabrielle and Vincent nodded. Rosemary said, "We just want you to be happy, darling," and kissed him on his forehead.

"Thanks Ma," Anthony warmed to the woman as she brought the coffee pot to the table. Joe put his paper down and held his cup up for a refill.

"Most people aren't made to go through life alone," Joe said. "Is this a general statement or do you have someone in mind?"

"It's a general statement. I don't want you to worry about this," he said to his kids. "If I end up with someone, she will have to love all of you. And you will have to like her. She will never replace your Mom. But, she will be a nice lady. I promise. I'm your Dad. I will always protect you."

"Thanks Daddy," Gabrielle kissed his cheek and hugged his neck. He winked at her. "I want someone who really, really loves you," she said.

"Me too my Precious Button," he said as he patted her arm and kissed her back.

After Anthony left the table and Gabrielle and Vincent went to school, Sophia, who remained in her pajamas because she had a cold, crawled up in her grandfather's lap. "I think Daddy should marry Vieve," she said as she blew her nose into a tissue her grandfather held.

"Me too," Joe said. He shook down a thermometer and placed it under her tongue. "But we can't tell anyone that. You know why?" Sophia shook her head. "Because people like to discover love for themselves. They get turned off to the idea if they think you are trying to push them together. Capisce?"

Sophia nodded. She pulled the thermometer out of her mouth. "It will be our little secret."

"Yeah," Joe said, motioning for her to put the thermometer back in her mouth.

Chapter 42 - The Mayor and the Fire Commissioner

"You don't love someone for their looks, or

their clothes or for their fancy car, but

because they sing a song only you can hear."

Oscar Wilde (1854 – 1900)

Irish author, playwright and poet

VIEVE raced down the street hoping Tony received her text message and didn't leave the restaurant. At work, the presentation had taken longer than she expected. She hated when Hugh, the owner of the Marketing firm where she worked, scheduled presentations at 4:00 PM. "Only twenty minutes," he always said. Then, when the presentation was well received and the presentee decided to become a client, the process took hours. This one had gone especially well, so it had run especially overtime.

Catching her breath, Vieve bent over and clutched her coat under the canopy. A uniformed doorman stood poised at the door anticipating her readiness to enter. He opened the large glass door and she walked into the lobby, twenty-two minutes late. Tony had received the text message that she was running late and he was being very chivalrous about it all. Her eyes widened as she checked her coat and took in the glitter and panache of the lobby. This was Manhattan pizzazz and she felt a little frivolous over dining in such an elegant place without an expense account to charge it to. She moved towards the maître d'.

"Madame?" he asked with a small bow.

"DeLuca party," she said.

His eyes scanned a list. "Yes. He's waiting at your table. Please follow me," the host said.

As Vieve walked through the dimly lit dining room she heard the staff softly say, "very good," or "excellent choice," or "may I recommend," to their patrons. Candlelight glowed from the center of each white linen covered table. Servers in white tuxedo shirts, elegantly tucked and with black bow ties, black shoes and fitted black trousers made for a crisp, immaculate appearance. They silently scurried about as they assisted their patrons. Wine choices were offered and dessert carts were pushed. In every way, the staff excelled at making their diners feel special. She felt pretty, Hugh had even complimented her appearance, and she felt especially cheerful amid this elegance.

Tony rose when he saw her. His face brightened and he smiled. "Hello," he said, keeping his eyes on her face, stepping forward to kiss her cheek. The host pulled her chair back.

Her eyes lit up. "Hi Tony. Wow! This place is fabulous!" she whispered as she settled in the chair. "Thanks for being so understanding. I finally just had to excuse myself from the meeting."

"Sure. I got the text. Did your battery die again?" he asked as she nodded. "We need to get you a better battery or a better phone. Wine?" he asked as he stroked his tie, making certain it was in place. He was reminded of the nervous feeling he had when he went for his Oral Interviews, both as a rookie firefighter and then later as he sought promotions. The skills he prepared for then helped him prepare for this time with Vieve now. He wore a tie and suit, because she lived in a white-collar world and he wanted her to know he could fit in wherever he needed to. If this worked out he figured he'd have to buy a tuxedo because of all the formal events he would probably attend. There were the Addy Awards and other banquets and Art receptions. He was glad she was running a little late because he needed a glass of wine to help unknot his shriveled gut, turn things over in his mind one more time, and get a boost of confidence. She sipped her wine. Their waiter brought the menus and left the table in silence.

She glanced up from the menu at her friend. He looked handsome in his dark gray suit. Vieve felt oddly confused, because she had never thought of him as anything more than her nice looking, very good friend. Tony sensed her muddle.

"You said you had an important meeting this afternoon with a potential client. I knew you would dress for the presentation, so I thought: Why waste this," he gestured at her, "on a small neighborhood hole-in-the-wall?" Tony said. He wondered if she could hear the thud of his nervous heartbeat. Had she noticed the tremor in his hand as he poured the wine?

_Apparently not_ , he thought, when she smiled at him. Just as he had noticed at the Oral Interviews, his talking calmed him. It helped him to feel in control and then his confidence returned. "I don't know what it is—the cold outside, a great day at work, you running here and entering breathless—but you are glowing," he said as he watched her reaction. She blushed and then her eyes dropped. _She thinks I am looking fine_ , he thought, and smiled.

A snappy waiter disrupted Tony's thoughts when he collected the menus and said, "In addition to the menu choices, this evening Chef has prepared a delicate fresh Skate with rosemary caper sauce over wild rice. The second dish is a lovely Boeuf Bourguignon with fragile baby dumplings and oyster mushrooms. The third entreé is our mouth-watering Lobster Stuffed Crepes served with a crème fraîche sauce and maple glazed baby carrots."

"Ready to order?" Tony asked.

"Skate," Vieve said cheerfully. She smoothed the skirt of her dress with carefully French-manicured hands.

"Beef," Tony said, watching her, smiling at her, glancing around to see if anyone noticed them together.

"Very good," the waiter said as he took their menus and vanished.

"You look so handsome," she said, dismissing the notion that her chum was paying a lot of attention to her. Vieve fanned herself with her hand and said, "It's a little warm."

Tony helped her remove her blazer. She wore a sleeveless black sheath dress with a scooped-neckline and one strand of pearls. "Blondes in black," he said shaking his head, smiling, looking into her eyes with appreciation. "Gorgeous." He paused, "You were right. I read Hamlet and I did enjoy it."

"What was your favorite part?"

"The 'To thine own self be true' speech was wonderful. But, the whole play was fabulous."

"I knew you'd love it." She pulled a pen and a sheet of paper from her clutch, unfolded it, grinned mischievously and leaned forward. "You said there were no sparks with Ramona." Drawing a line through that name she continued, "But I really want you to meet Denise. She's about forty, divorced, no kids." She sipped the wine and poked the list of names with her pen. "She's an attorney. Does a lot of pro bono work and community service. I think—"

Tony shook his head and motioned with his hand for her to stop. "You've got the wrong idea about this dinner," he said. "I'm not just thanking you for introducing me to some very nice women. I want you to know how much I appreciate all the thought you put into my welfare. But the real reason I asked you to dinner is because I want you to do something for me." Tony was totally, absolutely and entirely serious.

"Certainly," Vieve said, equally seriously.

"I want you to stop fixing me up." The statement and the sentiment from which these words were launched were completely deliberate. He had put a lot of thought into them. He sighed, looked up and stretched his neck. Suddenly his collar and tie became uncomfortable.

"Okay," Vieve said, wondering why.

"Of course. You deserve a reason." He spoke as Vieve put the wine glass to her mouth. He took her left hand and stroked her fingers. "The reason is because I wanna go out with you."

She had just filled her mouth with a really delicious Shiraz. Her eyes widened and she grabbed her nose and the napkin and snuffled into the linen. She coughed, reached for the water glass and drank several gulps. "Gee. That's embarrassing," she said, her face reddening.

This guy was her buddy. They were pals. Her composure returned and she placed her chin against the back of her hand, elbow leaning on the table. Vieve looked gravely at his face, feigning earnest determination to be as serious as he was. She looked like she was not going to be able to avoid laughing.

"What? Me asking you out or the wine coming out your nose?" he chuckled. "You're safe. I know CPR. You could choke on a cow and I could save you." Their waiter immediately brought a new napkin and removed the one with the wine stain.

"Uh. Tony, on my next birthday I will be forty-six. Fifty is not far from that."

"I know," he said.

"But you're what? Forty? Not quite?" she said.

"Riiiight. So?" he asked. When she jiggled her empty wine glass he filled it. She gulped it down, then looked for their waiter. "What does age have to do with the fact that you are a beautiful, sexy woman? Even my Mom says sixty is the new forty."

"No, Tony," she shook her head and motioned, palm up, to stop. "I'm way older than you are. You need someone younger." She said to the waiter, "I need a vodka gimlet here, please. Up."

"Very good, Madam," he said.

"I've tried it. They were nice...pretty. But you are so appealing, so fascinating." Tony shook his head. "Look, you just need to get used to this," he said. "It's a great idea!"

Vieve continued to shake her head. "My ex-husband was eight years older than me. He's fifteen years older than you." She stared at him, her eyes full of disbelief. Tony's expression was of complete delight. "Oh my God," she whined.

"If you were a man you wouldn't think anything of this even if there were thirty years difference," he reasoned. "In Europe, there is no problem with age differences. A beautiful woman is a beautiful woman. Anyway, six or seven years isn't much," he said, taking her hand, looking into her eyes. "It doesn't change how lovely you are or how attracted I am to you. Tell me you aren't attracted to me."

"I can't tell you that, because I think you are so masculine and so amazingly sexy," she said as she watched him stroke her fingertips. "This is quite a bolt from the blue. I'm not a Cougar," she said. "Or a Milf." The waiter brought her drink and she began to sip it.

He grinned. "You need to Google that."

"Did I say that incorrectly?"

"It's an acronym. It's M-I-L-F and it doesn't apply. Cougars go after much younger men. I came after you." He had never seen her so flustered. His nervousness had evaporated and she seemed to catch it. "We've got so much in common. Our values. We always have great conversations. Remember the Opera? We even share attitudes about important stuff like our feelings about the Church and religion! We communicate so well. Our relationship is natural and easy. That's why we're friends. Good friends! We owe it to each other to see if our spirits—if our hearts will speak to each other." Although he had no idea this would be such a surprise to her, he was amused by her reaction. He softly chuckled.

That he was amused annoyed her a little. This was serious. She tried to check-in with her feelings, but her nervousness was blocking her. After taking a very long, deep breath she found her voice. "Okay. So, help me out here. If I'm willing to try this, how do you envision this thing going?"

He rubbed his hands together as if to say _now we're headed in the right direction!_ "Well," he began as he poured another glass of wine for himself. "I'll bounce stuff off you about the kids. My Mom and Dad are so out of touch about some things and I really have valued your input. You'll ask for my opinion more, you know, like about things at work, because we need to become more comfortable with each other's careers. We'll meet for lunch on one of my days off during the week. I can come into Manhattan. You'll come over for dinner with the fam, or we'll go out just the two of us. As our relationship grows, we'll take the kids to a Museum or the Park, or whatever on a Saturday or Sunday when I'm not working."

She massaged her forehead and tried not to stare at him. Tony had obviously given this a lot of consideration. It was unsettling. Vieve wondered at the effort and thought required to include her in his life plans. She looked around at this restaurant which was lovely, and expensive. This was costing him a lot. He was showing her how much he valued her. _You are selling it to me_ , she thought. _Jim never would have done this._

"Maybe it's 'cause I've lived here all my life. Seeing New York through your eyes is renewing!" He grimaced over the use of the wrong word. "There's a better word. I've really enjoyed running around the city with you. I want the kids to appreciate New York like you do. And you're so good with them and Ajay and the baby."

"They can get that from a lot of people," she said. She wondered why she was even toying with the idea. She would never allow herself to fall for a guy who had three kids. Three kids! And only one of them really liked her. Maybe if she were younger.

"Yeah. They could. Except we'll be together, too. And we'll hold hands, and I'll buy you flowers and you'll tell me I'm wonderful." He was full of himself. Pleased as punch.

"You can't buy the kind of PR I've done for you, Tony. Because of my work on your behalf, I've got a list of women who want to meet you." She pointed at her paper. "Besides, I already tell everyone you're wonderful!"

"Yes. But now you'll say it to me after I kiss you." Tony leaned towards her and she thought he was going to kiss her right then. She felt her body become tense, almost petrified, but relaxed when Tony reached towards his left leg and pulled a long lavender box out from the floor under his chair. Inside was a dozen long stemmed red roses.

Vieve warmed at the gift. She fingered one velvety petal and as her countenance softened she smiled at him.

"Anthony?" a man in his late-fifties and his wife walked near their table. Tony stood up as the man extended his hand and slapped him on the back.

"Commissioner! Mrs. Hammond!" Tony said still standing, stiffening and shaking the man's hand. "How nice to see you. It's an unexpected pleasure. May I present Vieve Sloan. Vieve, this is New York City Fire Commissioner Greg Hammond and his wife, Marietta."

"Vieve," the Commissioner winked at him.

"Nice to meet you, my dear," Mrs. Hammond said.

"My pleasure, Mrs. Hammond, Commissioner," Vieve said, as she extended her hand.

"Join us?" Tony said, hoping they would decline.

"Thanks. We're meeting people," Commissioner Hammond nodded towards a table where the Mayor nodded back. "Enjoy your dinner," he chuckled. Mrs. Hammond smiled and they continued to follow the host as Tony sat down.

Sitting back, relaxing in the chair, Vieve looked directly into Tony's eyes without turning away or being distracted by anything else in the room. Obviously, she was getting used to the idea and Tony was pleased with the possibilities of his proposed arrangement.

"Roses," she sighed. "How lovely. You really are quite charming." She looked at the list of would be candidates suitable for Tony DeLuca. She touched a corner of the paper to the candle and watched the list burn as she dropped it on her empty bread plate. A waiter covered the plate with a chrome plated dish cover, put the plate with the burned paper on his tray and replaced it with a clean dish in one expert sweep of the table. "Okay Tony. I'll agree to go out with you on a real date." _What the hell_ , she thought. _This will never last._

"This is a real date," he said, raising his eyebrows, sipping his wine, chuckling to himself.

"No," she said softly, eyes sparkling. "This is a sneak attack. It doesn't count as a real date. But it is a beautiful restaurant. Even so, no points for this." She laughed slyly.

"I disagree," he said with eyes that twinkled as the waiter served his beef, her skate. "I think I should get points for this restaurant. Points for the roses. And extra points for the sneak attack. You were twenty minutes late. A guy could get drunk waiting that long. I should get points for patience and for waiting at this table alone sipping only one glass of wine in twenty minutes." He paused and leaned forward. The corners of his mouth turned up and he pursed his lips together. He had been teasing her, but now became serious again. "But the way you made your entrance, and watching the people here admiring you, and then sitting with me! Oh my, it was worth it." His eyes gleamed.

He leaned forward and took her hand. "In time, you will learn to trust me, Vieve," he smiled. "Mmmm, you've got to taste this," he said taking her spoon and giving her a bite of his dinner. "May I?" he asked before he tasted her skate.

Vieve nodded. "Of course. This food is especially delicious," she said. "Really good choice, okay, you win—points for everything. I can't argue against your business case."

The Commissioner asked his party if they would mind if he invited Anthony and Vieve to their table for dessert. His wife patted his arm. "Look at them," she said. "He gave her roses. This must be a special celebration for them." Mrs. Hammond said to the others, "Greg's especially fond of Anthony. Aren't you, dear?"

He settled back in his seat, "Yes I am. He was an up and coming fire fighter when the September 11th tragedy occurred. Tony stepped up to the plate. At the Middagh Street Firehouse, six firefighters were the first to respond to the emergency call about an explosion at the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center. The response was immediate. The crew had to simply go over the Brooklyn Bridge. They were used to responding to calls in Manhattan. As usual, they arrived before anyone else. None of them returned. Three hundred and forty-four firefighters lost their lives that day."

"Horrible day," the Mayor said.

"Yes," the Commissioner nodded. His eyes focused elsewhere, on the distant past and the honor he felt for the fallen heroes. He cleared his throat. "Tony's sound ideas and hard work helped the FDNY train a lot of inexperienced emergency personnel in record time."

Mrs. Hammond said, "Didn't he lose his wife a few years ago to cancer?"

"Yes, and then his brother at the NYPD was shot. Officer DeLuca recovered, thank God." The Commissioner said, "I remember when Anthony made Lieutenant. Now he's the Captain."

The host said to Tony. "Captain DeLuca, the Commissioner and the Mayor would like for you and your party to join them for dessert. We're setting up places at their table now. When you are ready, Captain, Madam," the host clicked his heels and bowed a little. "We'll be happy to keep these safe for you until you are finished," he said, touching the box of roses.

"Yes," Vieve said, "but I want to keep one."

They made their way to the Commissioner's table, and Tony surveyed the other diners as they watched Vieve. Her appeal was in her softness, her femininity, and her prettiness. Tony took pride in accompanying her across the room. When he touched the small of her back to guide her and claim her, it was as if sparks went off.

When Tony and Vieve arrived at the Mayor's table, the Commissioner made introductions.

"We've been hearing about your contributions to the FDNY. Thank you, Captain," the Mayor said, as he shook Tony's hand.

"We've got enough time for dessert, so we ordered Crepes Suzette. I hope that's alright with you," the Commissioner looked squarely at Vieve.

"Mm. A favorite, thank you," Vieve said. "Sounds like this is just the beginning of the evening for you."

"We've got tickets for Hamlet," his wife said.

"We were just discussing Hamlet," Tony said cheerfully. "What's your favorite part?"

"The dynamics of the people in their dysfunctional relationships," Mrs. Hammond said as the others nodded and observed Tony and Vieve.

"We use so many of the expressions in everyday speech. It's fun to know where they started," the Mayor's wife said.

"I enjoyed that as well. The dynamics of the characters is very thought provoking," Tony hushed his voice, "...all the secrets, you know."

"Have you seen it?" Mrs. Hammond asked.

"No, I've recently read it," Tony replied to the diners under the raised eyebrow of the Mayor who nodded in the direction of the Commissioner. "It's a favorite of ours," Tony said, winking at Vieve.

"Is this a special celebration, Vieve?" Mrs. Hammond asked. "We noticed the roses."

Vieve smiled and looked away to gather her thoughts. The Commissioner nodded to the waiter to pour the champagne.

"It's our first date," Tony said. He smiled at Vieve, "and she's agreed to another one."

"Well, I'm glad we've got the bubbly then," the Commissioner said as the waiter served the sparkling wine.

The Mayor raised his glass of champagne, "Here's to new beginnings," he said.

"And to beautiful women," Tony added as he smiled at Vieve, and then gave each of the ladies at the table a quick, definite, glance of admiration.

The crepes were wheeled in on a cart and the waiter poured Grand Marnier Cordon Rouge over them. When he touched a match to it the dessert made a loud whoosh! and was engulfed in flames.

The diners applauded and Tony said, "That's a fitting dessert for a firefighter!"

When they left the restaurant, it was snowing harder and Vieve pulled her faux fur coat around her neck and tucked a beautiful black, silk scarf between her coat and her blazer. The doorman hailed a cab.

"Do you know how remarkably well you did back there?" Vieve asked him. "They viewed you as one of them," she said.

He raised his eyebrows, grinned and cocked his head. "You certainly fit in. Their wives are educated, classy women."

"You'll get to tell the kids that you had dessert with the Commissioner and the Mayor."

"I'll get to brag to Dad and Johnny that you and I had a beautiful evening."

"It _was_ beautiful. Thank you, Tony."

Vieve slid her arm through Tony's and it was different this time. Tony was a not just a chum to have fun with anymore. The prospect of romance and intimacy and being the soft place for each other to land was a little frightening to her, because it would require trusting him. But it was also very exciting. She had a hard time maintaining eye contact with him.

He was very aware of her hesitation and uneasiness. He was amused that he had this effect on a woman with Vieve's substance, experience and usual confidence. He viewed her responses, her hesitations, positively. She just needed to get more comfortable with the idea and he felt certain that she would, given a little time.

Chapter 43 - First Date

"Character builds slowly, but it can be

torn down with incredible swiftness."

Faith Baldwin (1893 – 1978)

American writer

DURING the cab ride home, Tony talked and Vieve listened with genuine interest. He told her about Katie and how they'd been sweethearts since the Eighth grade, his time in the Air National Guard and the frustration over problems with the Guard's equipment and resources, and how much he enjoyed the strenuous exercise every day during basic training. "Kenneth Meadows recently suggested that I dedicate my workouts to someone, so I intentionally think about who will benefit if I stay fit and then I dedicate my work out to them," he said. "It's wonderful. When you take the ego out and come from a place of gratitude, the experience becomes very meaningful."

He talked about being with the Guard to serve in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. He spoke of working for the FDNY and said it was the greatest job he could ever have. He told her about obtaining his degree at Columbia. He spoke of Katie's illness and that she died in his arms at the hospital and how the kids had been so good about everything but they all still felt a little lost. He said that he was drawn to Vieve because she was full of wisdom and love. He looked forward to them getting to know each other better on a more personal level. He told her she was the most vivacious, confident woman he had ever met.

By the time they got to Vieve's door he was finished speaking. He said, "We'll just let it unfold. No pressure. Next Friday?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "I feel so pampered. I had a really wonderful time," she sighed.

_You are so pretty_ , he thought. He leaned towards her, expecting her to be a little stiff when they kissed. But she was warm, and soft, and the awkwardness had vanished.

"Me too," he said, closing his eyes. He wanted to hold her but he was careful to give her time to become more comfortable with him and the newly proposed idea. His lips brushed hers quickly and as he started to back away, she put one arm around him and the opposite hand low against the back of his head, with a finger or two touching his neck. She ran her fingers through his hair and when he kissed her again, she tugged a little at his hair and she was smiling when the kiss ended. He thought this was very sexy.

"Thanks, Tony," she said. "For everything. It was a lovely, memorable evening. The restaurant was amazing. Really wonderful. And the roses. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Her response and her expressions of gratitude satisfied him very deeply. "Goodnight." He waved as she entered her building, and he watched her bound up the three flights of steps. By the time she entered her loft and flipped on the light her cell phone was ringing. She plugged her phone into the wall charger.

"Hello?" she answered and put the box of roses down.

"It's me," Tony said. "Look out your window."

She saw him standing on the other side of the street, holding his cell phone to his ear. He looked up and waved a little. She raised her hand to wave. Tony stood under a street lamp, the lights at Salud! were still on, the restaurant would be open for another hour. His hair and eyelashes caught the large, fluffy flakes.

"I just wanted you to go to sleep knowing that I think you are a beautiful woman," he said. "If nothing else, I wanted to be very clear about that."

She giggled a little. "Thanks," she said.

"Promise me that will be the last thought on your mind when you fall asleep tonight," he said.

"I promise," she said, feeling very warm towards him. "And what will be the last thought on your mind tonight?"

"Oh my," he said. He looked at his feet, shuffled them a bit, and then looked up at her. She was going to milk this. "You'll be the last thought on my mind. Vieve, I don't have to have your face tattooed on the inside of my eyelids," he grinned. "I see you whenever I close my eyes. I have admired you since we first met. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Tony."

As she prepared for bed she thought about how his intentions had surprised her but his communication had effectively calmed her initial nervousness. Vieve went to sleep relaxed and very happy, and when she awoke, the roses, which were in a vase on the table next to her bed, had opened. She decided to dry them.

Chapter 44 - Girls' Day

"You've got to do your own growing,

no matter how tall your grandfather was."

Irish proverb

KELLY was back in town for a few days. The romance with Chris was going really well. He had driven to Ohio, once to surprise her, and once for a long weekend. They had met halfway a few times since then. In fact, she was staying with him this weekend and referred to him as her boyfriend.

The women decided to have a day out to catch up. Amani, Yolanda, Eleanor, Gemma, Vieve and Kelly ended up lunching at a Cuban fusion restaurant across from the Flat Iron Building. They were all in very high spirits. They enjoyed a matinee and shopped at boutiques.

After they ordered, Vieve started giggling. "Do you remember?" Vieve looked at Kelly, "The game?"

Kelly started to laugh. "She taught it to me when I was sixteen," she said to the others. "You think she is this well-mannered, elegant lady, but she's quite wicked, really."

Vieve continued, "We invented this game about what guys are thinking. We called it: Eenis, Meenis Thinking Outside of the—"

Eleanor said, "Oh! For heaven's sake! What fun!"

Kelly explained, "It's based on the premise that guys don't think the same way women do. Nudity, for example."

The women laughed loudly.

"That's true," Gemma said. "Men don't think about their own nudity the same way women think about their own nakedness. It's like they are entitled to believe that their bodies are the greatest. It's their birthright. Even if they look like Buddha. I see it all the time at the hospital. Generally, women are a little modest, and they're self-effacing. Guys don't care, regardless of their age or the physical condition they're in. They really think they are something."

"Lack of self-awareness. Typical," Amani said.

"Buffness versus lack of buff," Kelly laughed.

Eleanor got a wistful look in her eyes. "I remember the first time I saw a naked man. I was instantly reminded of turkey necks and gizzards."

The women burst into peals of laughter.

"I'm never gonna look at poultry the same way," Yolanda hooted.

Eleanor said, "And you have to always compliment it. The penis. Every day. The guy really responds well to that. Doesn't he?"

More cries of laughter.

"No," Amani said gravely. "She's right. This is serious business."

They were giggling so much that their waitress said, "We're gonna have to charge you extra. This table is having too much fun."

Gemma and Yolanda laughed so hard they held their sides. Kelly and Vieve were nearly hysterical. Eleanor snapped their picture with her phone.

Amani said, "You know it's still a man's world when it comes to sex."

Vieve said, "When it comes to everything!"

Eleanor said, "Well, now when I think of Eenis, Meenis, I think men run the whole world. And so many of them can't think outside of their, you know. There is a school of thought that the reason the world has so many uncontrollable problems is that over time too many women have lost their feminine power, their yin. The world is out of balance with too much yang. The Dalai Lama said the next reincarnation might be a woman."

Kelly said, "There _is_ too much yang, because as soon as those baby boomer yang males reached an age where their sexual performance was at risk of declining, voila! Viagra appeared." She shook her head, "It's sad. They spent millions of dollars on this pharmaceutical, but little attention to how to treat women."

Vieve said, "If pharmaceutical companies could find a way to make money on human relationships, we'd see a change. People would rather take a pill than change their behavior."

Yolanda offered, "I think our best bet is child rearing. Teach our sons to grow up to become the men we want them to be. The kind of man any decent woman would want to be married to. I want Joey to be like his Dad."

Gemma said, "He has a great Dad. We all love Johnny."

The others agreed.

Vieve said, "I love my boys, and being a Mom was the best job in the world."

Kelly said, "You are a great Mom, and your boys really love you. You came through those difficult years with an intact relationship with them. And they are good and decent guys. Even Sammy, who was such a challenge. He's coming around thanks to your good parenting."

"Thanks," Vieve said.

When they were paying the bill at the restaurant the waitress caught Vieve and asked her why she was having so much fun.

"Life is very amusing," Vieve said, walking quickly away.

"She's single and has a great job in Manhattan," Gemma said.

"She's got a really nice boyfriend," Yolanda said.

"So, it appears she will be laid often," Eleanor said grinning mischievously.

"And well," Kelly added.

Chapter 45 - The Big "No"

"Just when the homely little bird thought

he was stuck in a life he didn't want and

couldn't control, when others abused him

because he had no value, and after he wept

and finally crept out of hiding, he found

that he had grown into a beautiful, strong

swan, admired by all. Even the other

swans bowed with appreciation for him."

Hans Christian Anderson

(1805 - 1875)

The Ugly Duckling, 1844

Danish author and poet

AT the end of the week, when Kelly and Chris were strolling through Manhattan, after he spent the afternoon making her giggle, they held hands and peered into each other's eyes. In Columbia Heights, Tony met Vieve at the subway entrance when she surfaced. He knew she had attended a dinner meeting and she'd be late coming home. She talked to him on her cell phone from the restaurant until she went into the subway and her cell phone quit. He estimated when she'd resurface, met her there, and handed her a small bouquet of flowers.

When he quickly kissed her cheek, she reached for his jaw and drew it to her face. She closed her eyes as she kissed his cheek very slowly and deliberately and let her cheek linger against his. He enjoyed that and felt happy.

To Vieve three red carnations, some Christmas fern and baby's breath wrapped in plastic were a wonderful gift. She opened the plastic and held the bouquet to her face, "Thank you. I love them. You always find the most fragrant flowers Tony," she said.

"I know a guy," Tony said, shrugging a little. "Whenever you smile at me like that," he pointed to her mouth, "it makes me very happy."

"Happy how?" she asked as they walked. She kept smiling at the flowers, opening the plastic and putting them to her face to inhale their fragrance.

"Happy. You know. Comfortable with the person you're with. Happy knowing that something you did made them smile. Knowing that later, when you look at these, you'll think about me."

"Tony, I think of you often during the day," she said. "I dried your roses. I wanted to have a souvenir to remember that beautiful first evening."

This made him even happier and a new feeling of satisfaction enveloped him. As he walked beside her, holding her hand, he said that he wanted to take her and the kids to Central Park on Saturday.

"Things are going so well between us and it will be healthy for them to see that their Dad has a girlfriend," Tony explained to Vieve. They approached her building. "I don't want to leave yet. Can we go to your place?" he asked.

Vieve found him adorable. "Well. I don't have men in my loft," she said. By now she was wondering what issue was going to dissolve their romantic relationship, like sugar melting in raindrops, and return them to the meat and potatoes reality of enjoying a very good friendship.

"I know that about you," he said. "You see, by taking out women you know, I've learned a lot of stuff about you."

She looked at him quizzically.

He leaned towards her. "There have been a few men interested in you. Nice guys. Rich guys. You've had dinner with a couple of them. You didn't sleep with any of them, because you have the reputation of not uncrossing your legs for anything but your cello." He laughed. "The people you work with like you. Your boss thinks you are worth your weight in gold because you make him look so good. See? You didn't know you were helping me do my homework on you."

She laughed. "It sounds like a research project."

He chuckled. "I love to hear you speak. You could read me the phone book and I'd be happy. You've got that great smile. The day you came into the firehouse with Kelly I was having computer problems and you walked in the doorway and gave me the greatest smile. Other than my kids' smiles, which of course make my day, your face was like a beam of sunshine." _That was pretty corny,_ he thought. _Geez, I sound like my Pop._ "Then for two months I didn't see you until that day at Cinnamon's. But you kept bumping into Alex and Chris everywhere."

"Well, we go to the same gym." Her expression was soft and warm and tender. She glanced at the flowers, the street, the pavement and then peered into his face. When she looked at him this way, he realized how alone he had been and he wanted more of Vieve.

"You know Chris kept telling me to ask you out," he said sheepishly.

"Really?"

"Even before he met Kelly. Yeah. This," he held her hand up, "me walking you down the street, holding your hand, makes me feel like maybe you've been thinking about me and the things I've I told you."

She smiled. "I have." She looked into his eyes.

"So, let's go up to your place."

_This is it,_ she thought. _This boundary is going to end everything. Darn it! I was enjoying this._ "I know this is New York City where life is faster, but I don't smoke or do recreational drugs or have casual sex."

"What? Do you think that this is casual?" He stopped walking and pointed between them. "My intentions are entirely honorable. Do you think that all men have only sex on their mind when they are with a beautiful woman?" he said, kissing her open palm. He thought she would be a very physically responsive woman. Anthony DeLuca was ready to find out for himself just how responsive.

"Well, don't they?" she said chuckling.

"Uh, yeah," he said, sheepishly, as he kicked something with his shoe and laughed again.

She said, with her soft gentle voice, "What I really am aiming for in my life is to be with a decent, good man in a committed relationship, have mind-blowing sex with him, enjoy adventures and help each other be the best versions of ourselves."

He bent his body forward and spoke softly in her ear. "I want those things too." When he pulled back he smiled and watched her reaction.

They stopped walking and were standing at the door to her building. "Tony, you are a very sexy man. I love what a gentleman you are. The way you hold the door open for me, pull the chair out for me, help me with my coat, bring me flowers. You are the most masculine man I have ever met and something inside of me responds very strongly to that."

Neither one noticed Joe DeLuca peeking from across the street, from the window of Salud! As he polished glassware with a linen towel, he gave Johnny and Yolanda, who came out of the kitchen to serve the diners, a whispered blow-by-blow account of what was happening.

"Okay, they've stopped walking," Joe said out of the corner of his mouth. He had to be discreet because of the patrons.

"Are they looking into each other's eyes?" Johnny asked after he served chicken marinara to a couple.

"Yeah, I think so," Joe said as he polished the top of the bar with a linen towel.

"Good!" Yolanda said as she held two plates of antipasto. The diners who had ordered the antipasto looked longingly at the food. "Sorry," she whispered as she stopped focusing on Joe's blow-by-blow account and placed the plates on their table.

Then, Vieve did something that surprised Tony. She stepped forward and kissed him full on the mouth with a long, slow, tantalizing kiss that made Tony aware of the softness of her body, the warmth of her affection. The action caused him to understand the nature of this woman, that she was physically responsive. Very responsive.

"Oh my God!" Joe said so loudly that customers looked at him. He smiled, chuckled at himself and as they settled back into serving their patrons he whispered to Johnny. When she heard Joe gasp, Yolanda ducked out of the kitchen to hear Joe's report—uttered in hushed tones, "She kissed him. I mean really knocked him on his ass kissed him!"

"Uh oh!" Johnny said. "What's happening now?" he asked as Joe watched the couple again.

"They are very close, they're talking," Joe's words were rapid, his voice was high-pitched, almost panicky.

Vieve put her arms around Tony's neck and pulled herself up into his body. "You are a clever," she kissed his chin, "handsome," she kissed his ear, "courageous and wonderful man." She kissed his mouth again. What may have begun as a simple flirtatious action on her part, became clear that they both wanted more. The action was headier than sharing wine from the same goblet. He pulled her closer and ran his hand across her thigh. She weakened.

"What's happening?" Johnny asked, holding his breath, looking away. Yolanda wrung her hands.

"They're kissing again. It's really intense," Joe reported.

"It's so intense," Johnny said nervously, shaking his head at Yolanda.

"Oh Johnny," Yolanda said as she massaged his shoulders. "Relax, babe. It'll be okay. We've all wanted them together."

Tony opened his hand, palm up. "Give me your keys," Tony said to Vieve. He was emboldened by her kiss and very flattered that she found him attractive and had come around like that.

"I can't," she said.

"Why not?" he asked.

Vieve spoke softly. The tone of her voice was low and gentle. Her eyes sparkled. "Because, as much as I want you, I wouldn't feel very good about myself in the morning. And a gentleman always puts a lady's comfort and welfare first." She pulled away from his face. "If I'm not comfortable, you couldn't be comfortable."

_Damn she's good_ , Tony thought. "Yeah. Of course." He opened his unfocused eyes. He gulped air. "Of course." He pulled back. "Goodnight, beautiful lady."

"Goodnight Tony," she whispered. "I love that you met me, walked me home, and I love the flowers," she held them to her face to inhale their perfume. "Thank you." Her eyes shone and she hung on to the open door and waved as she waited for him to turn and leave. She lingered at the door and waved again after he took a few steps and turned around. He slowly began to walk away. _Now we'll see if he remains interested_ , she thought.

Joe reported, "Anthony's leaving."

"Good," Johnny began to breathe again.

Joe grabbed his chest.

Yolanda said, "Are you all right Joe?"

"Yeah," he said as he sank into a chair. He bent over and tried to calm his gasping breath and racing heart. "I spend all my time trying to get these two together and now that they're interested in each other I spend all my time worrying about them. Marron!"

When Vieve flipped on the light in her loft, her cell phone was ringing.

"Hi," Tony said. "I'm outside."

She looked out the window and waved. "Hi again," she said.

"I wanted you to know that it's okay. I can wait until you're ready. We're, uh, as a couple, we're worth waiting for."

Vieve remained quiet for a long moment. "Thanks for understanding. I want the last thing on your mind tonight to be that I think you are extremely attractive and a very wonderful man."

"You think I'm attractive? Huh. Why?"

_He was going to make the most of this_ , she thought. "You have the warmest, kindest eyes. And when I kissed you and you responded—Oh Tony! Kisses like that are particularly intimate and personal. Mouths open, eyes closed, inhaling. Breathing the same air. Leaning into each other like magnets attracting. I get lost in all of that so easily with you."

"You saturate my senses too, Vieve."

"My lips feel," Vieve touched her mouth. He could see her from the street. "Hot. Puffy. Swollen. Who needs collagen injections with you in their life? "

He chuckled. "You're a very sexy woman Vieve. So, we're on for Sunday?"

"Yes. I'm looking forward to it. I love your New York adventures."

He watched her inhale the fragrance of the small bouquet again. "Goodnight Vieve."

"Goodnight Tony."

Chapter 46 - Emotions Revealed

"A woman should soften a

man, but not weaken him."

Sigmund Freud (1856 – 1939)

Austrian neurologist and the founder of psychoanalysis

HOPING he'd bump into her, knowing she took this route home, Tony timed his trip to drop off his dress uniform at the Dry Cleaners perfectly. When he saw Vieve through the window of Sanjit's Bodega he rushed to her side and took the grocery bag from her arms as Sanjit gave her change.

"Hi!" he said. She uttered a cheery hello, stopped walking and let him kiss her mouth, with confidence. This public display of affection, a quick but deliberate kiss, and the way they pulled back with beaming faces made her feel cherished by him.

"Hey," he said to Sanjit who happily nodded a greeting. Tony turned to Vieve and opened the door for her. "Chris said he was up at your place eating pizza and watching Three Mo' Tenors on PBS."

"That's right," Vieve said.

Tony was glum. "How come you let Chris up there but I can't come up?" he asked.

"Because Chris is safe. You are dangerous," she said as a matter of fact.

"Whaddaya mean dangerous?" Tony asked indignantly.

She sighed and stopped walking. Vieve scrutinized Tony's face. "You and I are dating. The more I am with you the more attractive I find you. Dangerous." She started walking again.

"Oh," he said. "OH! Dangerously attractive," he said, obviously pleased.

"Alex and Amani were there too. It was unexpected. I phoned your place to invite you over, but Joe said you weren't at home. Something about going to Vincent's school for something. How's Vincent doing?" she asked.

"Why do you ask?" Tony stiffened a little.

"He was with those boys. You know the ones," she said.

"Can we talk about him at your place. I promise I won't touch you and I won't let you touch me," he said, holding both hands up to show he was neither armed nor threatening. He jostled the grocery bag to accomplish this. "I want to discuss it confidentially. If we go anywhere around here we both know too many people to have a private conversation."

She silently considered this. Vincent and Vincent's welfare were definitely a priority. "Okay," she acquiesced. He followed her inside.

"Gosh," Tony said as he followed her up the steps. "The last time I was up here was when there was an electrical fire in the attic. Mr. Kellerman had to have the whole building rewired." He watched her move up the steps. Four flights and she wasn't winded. Mr. Bottoms, the man who lived in the flat below Vieve, came out and said a pleasant hello.

Tony walked inside Vieve's loft and was surprised at how she had developed this small loft into a really lovely space. Her cello leaned against a chair in the corner. Sheet music sat on the music stand, posed near the window. A creamy gray colored sofa was lined with bright lavender and lime green pillows. Behind the black screen, which ran diagonally, was an alcove, which Vieve used as a walk-in closet and dressing room. The one large window in front was draped softly with handkerchief linen. "Great decorating!" he said. "I love the Himalayan Salt lamps." He considered how much he enjoyed this space, her adept use of color, and then thought about the fact that she was an artist.

"Thanks," she smiled as she took the bag from him and placed it in the kitchen sink. "Please have a seat. May I get you anything?"

"No, thanks," he said as he settled into a wing back chair with a gray and cream-colored print. "Vincent," he shook his head. "God. Where do I begin?" He inhaled deeply and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. "My Mom was putting his laundry away in his room and found magazines and DVDs, you know, porn. He's an eleven-year old curious guy. I was glad I was at home when it happened. She's really upset, but I convinced her to let me handle it. If she comes off too emotional about this it's going to turn Vincent away."

"I agree. You have to choose your battles with kids very carefully," Vieve said as she made herself comfortable on the sofa. She pulled her feet under her legs and held an ankle with one hand. She looked seriously into Tony's eyes, waiting for him to say more. He didn't seem to be able to go on so she facilitated the conversation. "I think you need a beer." She walked over to her tiny refrigerator and got him a Smithwick's. "What do you want to teach him?" _Okay_ , she thought. _This will tell me a lot about you._

"Thanks." He cleared his throat. "The internet and other media are full of pornography. And commercials and TV are so focused on sex. I have nothing against sexually frank media, if it is factual and faithful to the real experience. Pornography just gives false impressions to people as to what is expected during sex, because it's not real, but fantasy. It's about mostly men's performance and women screaming with orgasms the moment they engage and it's so unrealistic. It's different than erotica. I think it can even damage easily influenced kids who are trying to learn about this subject. And sex is a really important subject. I don't want Vincent to get sneaky about the whole thing, which is another reason why I didn't want my Mom carrying on about it. When we don't talk about a subject and force it into the realms of taboo and darkness, bad things can overcome something that's healthy. I want Vincent to get through this with his dignity and emerge with healthy sexuality. When I was his age and saw nudes in magazines it was exciting!" he admitted. Tony swallowed hard and continued, "Women are beautiful with their clothes on. But off. Wow!" He rolled his eyes.

Vieve nodded. This was good. He was being very honest. But she still didn't know which way he was going with this. On issues that were important to her, she did not want to influence him. He had to speak from his heart. She thought it would be best to remain silent, so she nodded.

"With me, I think my Dad knew something was up because he suddenly started giving me really physical jobs around the place and got me involved in weight lifting and working out at the Y. That helped. But I still had to, you know, settle it for myself once and for all. Well, it certainly isn't going to go away. All the guys had stuff and some was really warped and demeaning. That kind of material is very different from real life sexual encounters, with a girlfriend or a wife." He stopped. He had admitted a lot and waited for her reaction.

That her opinion was valued meant the world to Vieve. She deserved it and she had worked hard for this level of respect. Most of all, the validation to having consciously taken steps to make changes away from her former life felt warm and comfortable, like snuggling up, wrapped in a soft blanket near a fire on a wintry day. This cocoon of comfort had helped her to nurture herself and emerge as an authentic, mature woman.

She said, "One of the things that I always admired about you is how diligently you provide the proper environment for your kids. And you're right. Real life is different than what is in the media. Also, I agree, sex is very important."

"Yeah," he loved hearing her speak. He remembered watching her laugh with Alex and Chris, dancing with Johnny and chatting with Eleanor and Kenneth at Alex's party. He remembered wanting to have a chance with such a classy lady and now this lovely creature was his girlfriend. All the time he spoke, he looked intently into Vieve's eyes. She nodded and listened carefully to his words and he appreciated that about her. Her softness and total acceptance of him made him want to discuss things with her. Even when she disagreed, there was never any judgment or pouting or manipulation.

He said, "What I object to is that the way the media broadcasts sex from such a macho point of view. Guys jerk—, uh, masturbate to porn and then think the value of women lies in how she can be used and when they are with a real woman, then those guys basically masturbate in her. When men and women make love, it should be an uplifting experience for them both. It's physical, so there are techniques, yeah. But, to me anyway, it should be full of honor and love and cherishing. The bonding, you know?"

He sighed, stretched and glanced out the window at the tops of the residences and businesses that he'd known since he was a kid. Some he helped to save from complete destruction by fire. Tony turned to examine Vieve's face. She was very serious about this subject. He could always tell when an issue was fundamental to her happiness because she would look away and not seem especially interested in what she looked at. Tony watched her carefully. He sensed some tension.

Vieve stood up and walked to the window. She turned away from him.

"Vieve?" he jumped up from his seat and quickly moved towards her. "Did I say something that upset you?"

She put her hand up to her mouth and shook her head. Her eyes were filled with tears and her lips were trembling.

"Are you okay, honey?" he asked.

She had a hard time speaking. "It's not you," she said. She held up her index finger to indicate that she needed a moment. "Just a bad, poisonous memory coming back into my consciousness. Like a sliver in my heart working its way to the surface." Huge, hot tears rolled down her cheeks and her jaw and mouth quivered.

"I know I said I wouldn't touch you but you look like you need a hug," he opened his arms. She walked into his embrace and sniffed. "You don't have to tell me what's causing these feelings," he said. "But do these tears mean there are naked pictures of you in your past?"

She laughed a little, and flicked away wet drops from her face. "No Tony," she sniffed again and gave him a little smile.

"Well, you are a beautiful woman, you never know," he whispered. "We do stupid things in our youth."

"Tony, I need to tell you this. Jim really loved porn, and it wasn't just beautiful nude women baring all. I'm an artist, I'm comfortable with nudity. Jim craved really weird, demeaning stuff. I could only assume that I was inadequate. I wished to God I could satisfy him. I've always been," she looked down, "easily aroused and multi-orgasmic. I really enjoy sex, I'm not a prude. But, Jim just kind of viewed me as a thing to have sex with. I always was available to him, but he masturbated often. When he was with me he didn't care if it took him an hour to finish." She looked up at Tony. "Because it took him so long to have an orgasm sometimes, sex would become painful to me. Even with a lot of lubricant. I remember having to put a hot water bottle between my legs just to get some comfort."

Holding her chin in his palms, Tony wiped her eyes with his thumbs. "That's abusive," he said softly.

She wanted to sob. Huge, searing tears rolled down her cheeks. She couldn't stop them. He took his handkerchief and blotted her eyes. He wanted to kiss away her pain but he didn't want to respond in any way that appeared sexual. Vieve buried her face in his shoulder, more to hide than to cry.

"Oh baby" he said, "I am so sorry you went through that." Tony spoke softly, but his jaw was set and Vieve could feel his anger at Jim. "Guys like him make it tough for the rest of us," he said. "That kind of sex is no more a sign of love than... than brutality is a sign of strength."

"I know that," she said sniffing, trying to regain her composure. "I see such noble, loving qualities in you. I never had that."

"Do you realize that Jim's behavior had nothing to do with you? It was his choice?"

She nodded.

"Good. Jim's actions were selfish. What an enormous put down to you, personally." Tony ground his teeth and said, "It is as if our society has become sexually unwell. Making love is wonderful, but the minds of many people regarding sex has become almost toxic."

"It's a pity," Vieve said. "Jim is a very damaged person because of his father's abuse. I couldn't respect Jim. I have a lot of respect for you."

"Yeah?" he said, smiling, pushing a strand of her hair back in place. "It's kinda nice to know someone notices." He wiped another tear away with his thumb and slid his palm gently over her cheek. She leaned into his upturned hand.

"Everyone notices," she said. "People think well of you."

"What I really mean is that it feels good to know that you've noticed," Tony said.

She reached up and touched his hair. She loved looking into his face and watching his eyes lock into her glance. What a great face. Such warm eyes. When she rested her head on his shoulder he kissed her forehead very gently and stroked her hair.

"When our relationship finally reaches that level of intimacy," he whispered. "I would never do anything that would make you uncomfortable."

"Thanks," Vieve said. "I know that about you."

"I'm not trying to push you. I'm just trying to reassure you," he said.

Vieve nodded. Being in his arms made her feel safe. She felt glad the relationship had reached this level of emotional intimacy. She was pleased that they could speak frankly to each other. When she finally managed to cope with the moment, she looked up, blinked away the last of the tears and asked, "So how are you going to proceed with Vincent?"

He whispered, "Are you okay then?"

She nodded.

He inhaled very deeply and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm gonna see if Dad can get him to help more at the restaurant to keep him occupied. Structure his time better without being obvious. I rearranged the furniture and put the computer in the living room in an area so that the monitor can be viewed from all sides to discourage inappropriate Internet sites. I've got blocks on the server, but he's smart enough to figure out how to bypass them. I'm gonna go with him to the gym more and look for projects so we can spend more time together. And I'm gonna speak to him like I just spoke to you."

"That's excellent," she said without fear or restraint. "Let him know what's in his father's heart." She placed her hand over his heart. "It's such a good heart."

Chapter 47 - Gemma's Graduation

"There are two basic motivating forces:

fear and love. When we are afraid, we pull

back from life. When we are in love, we

open to all that life has to offer with

passion, excitement and acceptance."

John Lennon (1940 – 1980)

British musician, singer, songwriter, activist

VIEVE led Gemma into Salud! Gemma's eyes were shut and Vieve's hands were over them. Ajay, Adrienne and Sophia sat together near one end of the table, where Sophia played as if she were their Mommy. Vincent was at the bar with Alex, Johnny and JoJo, who, since his fifth birthday was now called Joey. Some folks from the hospital, new friends of Gemma's, were talking to Tony, Gabrielle, Joe and Rosemary, the Meadows and Amani. Someone made Gabrielle laugh. Mrs. Kellerman, who held her breath with anticipation, was there. She was trying to get out more since her husband had passed away. When Vieve removed her hands from Gemma's eyes, and told Gemma to open her eyes, the gang, including Yolanda who ran out of the kitchen for a moment, yelled, "Surprise!"

Gemma slapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh, my goodness!" she exclaimed in staccato fashion. There were pitchers of beer, bottles of wine, soft drinks, platters of antipasto and a big cake that said "Congratulations Gemma King, LPN." The flash from a camera made her squint.

"You did it, girlfriend," Vieve said, and kissed her friend's cheek. "I'm so proud of you."

"We all are," Alex yelled from the bar.

"Congratulations," Tony said, pecking Gemma's cheek.

"Not only is she an LPN," Gemma's friend, Maurice who worked in Radiology, said. "But she has five job offers!" Tony remembered him as the percussionist from the Firehouse Roof Benefit.

"Six," she held up six fingers to the applause.

"Who else came through?" Maurice asked.

"The Morgan Clinic," she said softly, hiding her smile with her hand, then remembering to be a good example to Ajay and letting her hand drop.

"Internal medicine. They are great," he clapped his hands as he explained to the group.

"Do you know which offer you're going to accept?" Eleanor asked.

"I'm leaning towards the hospital, because the benefits are really good. Plus, the child care works out, even for a really early shift," Gemma said. "I'll be able to continue my education there, too. Get my RN."

"I hope you know that whatever I can do to help you, I will. The kids can always spend a night or a weekend with me," Vieve said.

"Auntie Vieve is always the first one I call," Gemma said.

Joe was at the jukebox, making a selection. "Let's dance," Joe said. "I feel like dancing with my wife. Help yourself to the salad, spaghetti, lasagna and the eggplant." He grabbed Rosemary's hand and twirled her around and around.

Vieve watched as Maurice asked Gemma which dish she wanted. He asked Ajay what he wanted to eat. "Psghetti!" Ajay giggled while others who heard him smiled.

"It's spaghetti," Sophia corrected.

"I can't say spaghetti," Ajay said quietly. "I can only say psghetti."

Tony leaned back and winked at Gabrielle. Alex whispered something that made Amani laugh. Eleanor and Kenneth toasted each other with their glasses of wine.

"Whaddaya want, babe," Tony asked Vieve and kissed her forehead absentmindedly, like he and his family did when they were holding one of the children. He was distracted by the game on the television at the bar.

"Eggplant Parmesan," she said, "and salad."

"Mmm," he said, still interested in the game from the corner of his eye. "Happy?"

"Very happy," she said.

He slid an arm around her shoulder, nuzzled her hair and whispered, "I love you, babe." Then he jumped up and hollered at the television. All the guys started yelling at the game.

"What?" Maurice yelled in the direction of the television. "Oh man! Did he? Oh Man! They're gonna miss qualifying if they aren't careful!" He walked over to the television.

"Can you believe that? Really? Really?" Tony shouted as he took long strides towards the bar.

He loves me, Vieve thought. Vieve laughed at the guys switching gears. Soft and tender one moment, pure testosterone the next. She had hoped for a little more, a little better than that.

The guys mingled at the television, then a commercial and a newsbreak came on and Tony returned to his seat. He brought her another bottle of water, "You're almost finished with that one," he said.

"Thanks Tony, for noticing," she smiled at him.

"Now, where was I?" He leaned back and put his arm around her again and nuzzled her hair. "Did you hear me?"

"About the water?"

"No. I said, 'I love you'."

"Yes. I heard that," she said. "You are always surprising me," she paused. "I'm glad, because you are so easy to love," she looked up at his face and they smiled at each other. Gemma, Yolanda and Johnny noticed the tender moment and winked at each other.

Tony brushed his face against her hair again, then jumped up. All the guys and some of the women were yelling at the game.

"You gotta love 'em," Vieve said to Gemma. How wonderful. He actually loves me.

Chapter 48 - Joe and Rosemary

"Once upon a time there was a boy

who loved a girl and her laughter

was a question he wanted to

spend his whole life answering."

Nicole Krauss

(1974 --), _The History Of Love_

American author

JOE and Rosemary decided that since their son was as interested in Vieve as Tony was, they'd better do their job and invite her over often, to help Vieve and the kids get used to each other. So, every week, Rosemary invited Vieve to the DeLuca's for dinner on one of the nights when Tony was off. And it was working, because the kids were great kids and Tony and Vieve were terrific people. They were hospitable, caring and very generous in honoring one another.

Joe and Rosemary lived in an apartment, a flat above the restaurant. When they had owned a house in the neighborhood, they rented the apartment out. Once Anthony and Johnny were married and gone, they decided to move in to the apartment and sold their house. Not that they were downsizing. The apartment had four bedrooms and two bathrooms, and was more spacious than their house had been. It was the convenience to the restaurant kitchen, downstairs, that they had needed.

Tonight, the family, and Vieve, sat at the table, passed the food around, and discussed the restaurant business.

"Yolanda looked at the books and we realized that we don't do enough business on Monday and Tuesday evenings, so we are only gonna open on Wednesday through Sundays," Rosemary said as she passed the salad.

"You could do something special on the fifth Saturday," Vieve said. "Several months in the year have five Saturdays and if you do something special for that, people will start to remember and connect the fifth Saturday with having fun at Salud! "

Tony sipped his wine. "Makes sense, Ma," he said as Joe nodded.

"On the first Fifth Saturday will you play your cello and ask Gemma to sing again?" Gabrielle asked.

"Great idea, sweetheart. I think we can arrange that to kick off a 'Fifth Saturday Series'," Vieve said. She looked into Tony's face, "And we need to talk about when we can take Gabrielle to hear the symphony. She loves music." She winked at the girl.

Vieve helped Rosemary clear the table and do the dishes while Tony reviewed homework. Vieve got Sophia bathed and ready for bed while Tony played Dominoes with Gabrielle and Vincent.

As Vieve finished blower drying Sophia's hair, Sophia said, "They're all getting used to you."

"You think?" Vieve asked.

"Uh-huh. Poppy said so. And Daddy's not grumpy anymore," she smiled and then kissed Vieve on the cheek. She remembered the little secret she had with her grandfather and her lips were still sealed. "Read me some of Stuart Little please," Sophia took Vieve's hand and led her to the bedroom she shared with her sister. Vieve sat on her bed with Sophia under the covers and read.

As Sophia's eyes started getting heavy, Vieve kissed her forehead and said, "Goodnight, darling." Sophia still smelled like a baby. "I love you."

"I love you too," Sophia said hugging Vieve as Gabrielle and Tony came in the room. She reached for her father, "Goodnight Daddy," she said softly, "I love you," she could barely stay awake long enough to keep talking.

"I love you too, Princess," Tony said.

Vieve moved to the hallway. Tony kissed Gabrielle and he called her his Precious Button. He told her she could read for twenty minutes, and she could listen to her CD player if it was soft or classical music.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Vieve said to Gabrielle from the doorway.

Tony shut off the light and closed the door halfway. He and Vieve walked down the hall together, holding hands, and then he walked her home.

Chapter 49 - Vincent

"It is essential to understand that

battles are primarily won in the

hearts of men. Men respond to

leadership in a most remarkable

way and once you have won his heart,

he will follow you anywhere."

Vince Lombardi (1913 – 1970)

Football player, coach and

Executive to the

National Football League

TONY and Vincent walked down the street together. They had spotted each other when they lifted weights at the gym. Vincent said something that made his father laugh and Tony mussed the boy's hair. It was an affectionate DeLuca gesture among the guys. The real affection was shown when one kissed the other one's hair.

"Did you see that guy, Gene?" Tony asked.

Vincent nodded.

"I want to tell you about him. Man-to-man," Tony said. He dropped his voice. "If Nonni or Vieve or Gabrielle are at the gym, keep an eye on him. Try to keep yourself between him and the girls."

"Okay, Dad," Vincent said.

Tony shook his head for dramatic emphasis. "Where do you think guys get those kinds of ideas? You know. About women? Do you think maybe from porn?"

He watched Vincent gulp a little and then nod, "Yeah. And from the things the kids talk about at school."

"How do you do it?" Tony asked. "How do you stay away from those crazy ideas? It's everywhere"

Vincent shrugged again.

"I'm glad you're smart enough to realize that the other kids don't have the answers. You are really becoming a man." Tony mussed his hair again. "Just remember that other kids' opinions are just other kids' opinions. They are not fact, and they are certainly not 'the truth.' It is your responsibility to question the authority and the opinions they want you to accept, and to question their frame of reference—how are they living, what world do they come from, what motivates them? Sometimes you need to take back the power you are giving to the beliefs and convictions of others and place a bit more trust in yourself."

"Yeah," Vincent said. "Vieve talks a lot about 'authenticity'."

"She's got a point." Tony continued, "Women are beautiful creatures. Whenever I started thinking about them, you know, only sexually, I tried to remind myself that my Mom is a girl. Girls are our sisters and even our daughters. I tried to look at the girls I was attracted to that way, you know, like my family. It helped a little. And the more I did it, the better I got at it."

Vincent was wide-eyed. He wondered where his father was going with this.

His father continued. "It's what helps me right now in this relationship with Vieve. Guys think about sex a lot. It's normal. And women are so gorgeous, aren't they? Do you know what is really lacking these days? Self-discipline. It can help you build self-esteem and earn respect from others."

Tony watched Vincent's face like he watched Vieve's face. He looked for answers in their expressions.

"I think I need an example."

"Guys don't think like girls do. But a gentleman, whenever he can, puts her feelings ahead of his own. Some guys don't do that and you can tell that they've become selfish."

"Oh," Vincent said. "Yeah. At school, there's this guy who likes to put his hand on girls, uh, grab their breasts."

"Really?" Tony asked.

"Yeah. A couple of girls have slapped him. But, mostly the girls just laugh."

"Good for the ones who slap him." Tony shook his head. "He's being selfish and acting stupid. He needs to have boundaries set for him."

"The nice girls avoid him."

"What do you do when you see him doing that?"

"I haven't really done anything, because he's usually not near me. I hear about it after."

"What can you do if he is near you?"

"I think I'll tell him to stop it and that he's acting stupid and selfish."

"Yeah," Tony said. His next words were directed to an invisible person. "'Knock it off! You're acting stupid!'" Tony smiled and paused. "That will work! And it will separate you from the jerks and show others your position on that kind of behavior. What do you think of that?"

"It's kind of cool," Vincent said, grinning a little. "Powerful even."

"Well, it is powerful to think through things and make your own decisions." Tony talked about the importance of having an identity. "If you have that inner sense that tells you who you are and what you stand for, you'll be able to control your own life instead of letting others control you." Tony mussed his hair again. Vincent could feel his Dad's pride in him. He beamed and stood a little taller.

Tony continued. "You know Dr. Meadows? He and Mrs. Meadows are very broad-minded people. He took some Eastern classes about male sexuality and the little he's told me is very interesting. There is no quality education about sex here. At least, not any that I can find. A lot of guys learn about sex from porn. I don't want you to think that it's okay to treat women they way porn shows sex. In porn, nothing is too painful or degrading for women, which is abusive thinking. Dr. Meadows approach made sense to me. You know, the survival of our species depends on sex, that's why our bodies make it a priority."

"Okay," Vincent said.

"Pornography violates a lot that's human. There is so much of it out there. It's different than sexually explicit material. I wanted to run something by you. Kenneth, uh, Dr. Meadows is going to teach a workshop on Male Sexuality and I was thinking you and I should take it. Sex is important. I want you to get it right, and I could stand to broaden my knowledge as well. What do you think?"

"Sure, if you think so," Vincent said.

"Do you think that porn teaches people to have healthy relationships?"

"No."

"Porn is about getting sexually excited. It was designed, hundreds of years ago, by prostitutes to attract business. Sexual excitement and fulfillment is great. We're all designed to experience that kind of pleasure..."

As Tony continued chatting with Vincent on the walk home, Vincent became more open and relaxed in his comments to his father. They discussed the benefits of knowing your strengths and weaknesses, as well as your goals and convictions. They even put together a short goal and action plan. Vincent suggested calling these his "Stop and think plan" and Tony told him that was such a good idea they should share it with Gabrielle and Sophia. They even talked about updating the "Stop and think plan" or adding to it periodically. Tony had communicated deeply with his only son. He was overjoyed with the successful outcome.

Chapter 50 - The Kids and Vieve

"Children make you want to start life over."

Muhammad Ali (1942 – 2016)

American professional

boxer and activist

"WELL I think she's stuck up," Gabrielle said between bites of cereal.

"Yeah," Vincent chimed in. "She thinks a lot of herself. Too much."

"Have you ever considered that she's from a different culture?" Joe asked.

"I don't understand," Sophia said.

"She's from the Midwest, Chicago and Cincinnati," Joe began. She speaks differently than we do. She told me that she's having to get used to living here because our culture is different. She said that Midwesterners often dispense with the formalities at the beginning of a conversation. Like, 'Good morning. How are you? How is your wife, or husband, or something else that she knows has been on your mind?' She said that she has to catch herself and make certain she begins conversations according to our customs, because she's used to getting down to business immediately. She said she doesn't want anyone to think that she doesn't care about them or think she is rude."

"She also has a lot of confidence," Rosemary said. "That probably comes from her background too. You might be mistaking her confidence, how easily she can speak to anyone, with being stuck up. If you observe her, you'll see that she puts others before herself, she's very pleasant to be around, and she's funny."

Anthony came in the kitchen unshaven, scratching his head and rubbing his left ear. Rosemary poured him a cup of coffee.

"Good morning," he said as he sat down. Everyone was silent. "So, what's up this morning?"

"We're talking about things we don't like about Vieve," Sophia said as she crawled into his lap.

"Yeah? Well, I don't like her hair," Anthony said flatly. Gabrielle and Vincent looked at each other with astonishment.

Rosemary asked, "The color or what?"

"It's too short. I asked her to let it grow," Anthony said. He sipped the hot black coffee and grinned at Sophia. "But it wasn't fair, me asking her to change something without asking her what she wanted from me."

"What doesn't she like about you Daddy?" Sophia asked as she poured Cheerios into a napkin.

"My motorcycle," he said as he yawned, then absentmindedly kissed Sophia's forehead. "So, I'm selling it."

Joe asked, "I thought you loved that bike?"

"I do, uh, I did. But, I just don't want to be responsible for making her uncomfortable. Even though she hates motorcycles, she encouraged me to keep it. I never ride it any more. It's kinda one more thing from my youth that needs to become a memory. She thinks they can be dangerous, and she's got a point. We dread doing a rescue for a motorcycle accident."

Sophia fed dry Cheerios to Anthony. "I made these for you, Daddy," she said.

Anthony crunched them. "Delicious. Have you been taking lessons from Nonni?"

Sophia giggled and whispered, "Cheerios. From the box, Daddy."

He pretended to be surprised.

Sophia smiled and said, as a matter of fact, "I like Vieve," Sophia continued to feed her father the crunchy O's, one by one. "We talk about my problems and some days I got lots of problems."

"Time for school," Rosemary said, shooing them off. They kissed and hugged their grandparents and their father and ran out the kitchen door.

"Bye, kiddo," Sophia said as she followed her brother and sister.

"Where does Sophia get that stuff from?" Anthony wondered as he poured another cup of coffee.

"She gets it from Vieve," Joe said.

"Huh," Anthony grunted as he made the connection. "I gotta take a shower and shave," he said feeling his sandpapery neck. "I'm meeting Vieve for lunch today and I wanna get her a little present. We've been dating for three months now." He took his cup and disappeared down the hall.

"This is serious," Joe whispered, leaning towards his wife while he folded the paper and set it down.

"Because he's buying her a present?" Rosemary asked. When Joe shook his head she said, "Oh! You mean remembering a three-month anniversary."

"No! Because he's giving up the bike! Love is in the air." He looked down the path Anthony had taken through the house and Joe smiled at the idea. "I knew he was interested the minute I saw him look at her. Remember?"

Rosemary said, "But Katie and he fought over that bike! I don't think she ever forgave him for buying it."

Joe just looked at her.

She said, "That was just two immature people struggling for power. You fellas always have to prove that you're the man of the house. More to yourselves than to your wives sometimes." She shook her head. "He never rides it. Mostly he sits on it in the shed, drinking a beer and listening to music," Rosemary said shaking her head. "Men really start showing their maturity when they reach their forties. That's when they really get it."

Joe began, "So, you're the big expert on men now?" Joe teased, stroking her cheek with his finger, gazing into her face.

"I should be. Remember the Oldsmobile? Besides, I got three brothers, a husband, two sons and two grandsons." Rosemary said. "I've got pictures of every one of you on that bike!" She set her coffee cup down on an empty plate and started stacking up the dishes.

"If they end up getting married I worry a little for Vieve." Joe considered the truthfulness of that statement. "Remember when Anthony told us that three kids could overwhelm a potential wife? He was right! I just don't want anything to get in the way of those two getting together." He paused and continued, "For the sake of Anthony's happiness," Joe said. "He needs her."

Rosemary rolled her eyes at him and stood up to take the dishes to the sink.

He pulled her to his lap. "Just like you are linked to my happiness," he said as he kissed her cheek. He took the plates from her hands and placed them on the table. He held her hands and looked into her eyes. "I can't imagine my life without you in it. What would I have done?" He pulled her to his lap, kissed her and she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back.

Johnny walked in the back door as Anthony came in the kitchen from the Dining Room. "Geez they're necking again, Anth," Johnny said.

Anthony rinsed his cup in the sink, then opened the dishwasher and placed the cup on the top rack. "That generation, huh?" he grunted to Johnny.

"I thought you loved the Olds?" Joe said, pulling back from Rosemary.

"I hated that thing! I don't even want to think about that," she said, throwing her hands up in the air. "You loved the Olds! Not me," she pointed a finger at her husband's nose and shook her head. "Struggles for power." She nodded knowingly.

Chapter 51 - Central Park

"When one tugs at a single thing in Nature, he

finds it attached to the rest of the world."

John Muir (1838 – 1914)

Naturalist, conservationist,

engineer, botanist,

writer, geologist, philosopher

and founder of the Sierra Club

NO one can escape the laws of Nature. In Central Park, no one would want to. Photosynthesis produces oxygen. Water evaporates from the Atlantic Coast in the Americas and becomes swirls of vapor collecting in ever rotating clouds, which move, in predictable weather patterns, and fall to the earth again as rain in the Atlantic Ocean and then the pattern continues to Europe, Africa, Australia, Asia and the Pacific Ocean. Gravity is the force that makes objects fall downward and holds all of us to the Earth. Round balls roll farther than square cubes. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. The moon draws the water in the ocean, causing tidal activity. The earth, spinning like a 24-hour top, revolves around the sun. And exquisite things and processes beget other exquisite things and processes. The ugly, hideous, crude and vulgar cannot give birth to the beautiful. Yet, when the revolting, vile things are removed, beauty remains. What is left can be dazzling.

Central Park was born from the beautiful within New York City through the recruiting efforts of Andrew Jackson Downing, and the work of Vaux and Olmstead. Central Park satisfies the desire for beauty, from John and Yoko's Strawberry Field to ice-skating in the summertime. Joggers jog, horses trot, dogs run, and children play. A building could just be a building with the purpose of housing people. But the beauty of architectural styles and details benefit people passing by, photographers recording it or students scrutinizing it. Builders built what beautiful minds dreamed and planned; everyone else benefitted. _Life should be that way_ , Vieve thought. _Stunning collaborations_.

For Vieve, who had made Herculean efforts to discard the ugly things in her life and recognized for herself how sweetness and beauty blossomed within her, Central Park would always be a favorite spot. To love Central Park, one doesn't need to be in love with someone. To become its' captive fan doesn't require wealth or fame or power. Vieve had witnessed Central Park in every season. The park became a friend that helped her to heal. Last summer, the 843-acre emerald green gem, in the heart of Manhattan Island, dazzled her and reminded her that she was alive and as vibrant as the greenery that shimmered in the breeze. Zephyrs filled her lungs with fresh air, and her nostrils were satisfied with heady aromas of flowers, fresh mown grass, trees, leaves and the beautiful fragrances that accompany each season.

The pleasures to her senses continued through the autumn. Leaves crunched underfoot. Reds and yellows mixed like copper and gold flakes that fell from the trees and welcomed the balmy-colored warm azure-blue sky. Then, dusky smells of the fall matched her mood that had been introspective, quiet, and preparing for slumber.

In the winter, a blustery white frostiness covered the trees and open spaces defined the edges of the park's natural architecture. Especially lovely during hibernation, trees reached to the liberty of light with outstretched silvery arms, each finger decorated with frosted diamonds of ice.

Lingering alone, post-Jim, pre-Tony, Vieve reveled in the silvery, glistening, blindingly beautiful enchanted fairyland of the winter. She had finished her work with Dr. Paulson then and reconnected with her feelings and herself. For Vieve, spring was the most charming and inviting of all the seasons in Central Park. People emerged now, with sweaters or lightweight coats unbuttoned, heads uncovered, hands ungloved. They no longer needed to be sheltered from the cold of the winter. Individuals surfaced to inhale the freshness of the season. Springtime was life renewed. Springtime was Tony telling her he loved her.

As Vieve rushed to the park for lunch on this glorious day, she wondered, how many couples, in various stages of love, has the park seen? Surely tens of thousands, probably millions.

She watched Tony as he read a book and waited for her at a bench near their favorite entrance. A canvass bag, which contained their lunch, lay next to him, comfortably slouching against the back of the park bench the same way she would relax with him. Vieve slowed her pace as she approached him, wanting to forever remember this scene. He wriggled his nose once and flicked his hand at an ear, then turned a page. She could see that he nicked his neck when he shaved this morning. He had gotten a haircut since she saw him last, and his beard was neatly trimmed. When he saw her he stood, smiled and when she came up to him, he kissed her mouth. He always made that funny little hum and smiled, just an inch or two from her face, just before he kissed her. He said it was because she was yummy.

They strolled deeper into the park, talked, ate cubed cheddar and Swiss cheese and slices of apples, hunks of fresh French baguettes torn from the loaf, and drank bottled sparkling water that tasted like champagne. They felt ageless. A retired couple watched them and remembered when they were younger, when their love was newer. They saw them sit on a bench and Tony hand her a small Tiffany blue box while he said, "Happy Anniversary."

"Oh Tony," Vieve said as she opened the gift. She caught her breath. "Diamond earrings. How beautiful." She put them on and smiled at him. "I love them. Thank you, Tony."

"They're small," he said.

"That's one of the things I love about them!" she said, eyes sparkling. "Like sparkling stars in a night sky." She leaned over the canvass bag and kissed him. She pushed her hair behind her ears and looked at her face in her purse mirror. "Oh, I love them. How special!"

"Is there writing on that mirror?" Tony asked. She handed him the mirror which the words Hello Gorgeous written across the top and bottom in marker.

"Your daughters gave it to me," she said. She dropped her mirror in her purse and took out a book that she handed to him. "Happy Anniversary, darling." It was entitled _London's Firefighters,_ by David Pike. "Open it."

"Rangers tickets! Front row goal!" He kissed her. "Thank you. These are great!" He stared at the two tickets.

Vieve smiled and her eyes warmed. It was the first real gift she had given him. _We'll both benefit because his gratitude will speak to my heart,_ she thought. _Then my heart will speak to his. We really seem to get each other._

"Do you wanna go to the game?" He held up the tickets.

When she shook her head, she said, "Only if you want me to share the experience with you."

His words, he knew, would prime the pump and begin the process of bringing forward warm tender words from her. It was their process. His affectionate action would be rewarded in her loving response. He continued, "See, you always make me look good. Whoever I take, I'll be a winner to them." He gently kissed her mouth. "Thank you, babe." He tucked the precious tickets in his wallet.

"You know," Tony continued. "I get a lot of satisfaction from how grateful you are whenever I do something for you or give you something. The best gift that you consistently give me is that you make my life sweet. I'm more aware of that now and it makes me want to give you even more."

"That was eloquent," she said.

"I really love you," he said, nudging her playfully.

"I love you," she said. "And now you want to know why?"

He nodded and settled himself on the park bench. His expression told her that he enjoyed the expectation of hearing what she would say.

As she gathered her words, like warmth to her bosom, she watched a songbird, a warbler, land on the thin new grass, which was finer than baby's hair. She looked into this man's eyes, the eyes that waited for her words, with the sincerity and patience that was this man's way. She spoke earnestly and from her heart.

"I wouldn't have gone after this romance," she heard herself say as she stroked the back of his hand. "But, now that I'm in it, I'm delighted with the whole Tony DeLuca package. You were so right, Tony. You are so often right when it comes to me, to us. Your kids, your parents, Johnny and Yolanda, Joey have been a wonderful experience for me. And when it comes to you Tony, I absolutely treasure you. You are priceless to me. I appreciate how you honor me. You are a very kind individual with a good heart. You can make me laugh in an instant. I love to hear what you've been thinking about. You have courage. Not just in your profession, but in life. It takes great courage to not do a knee jerk reaction after your wife dies. You didn't find a girlfriend immediately or get married to the first woman who'd say 'yes' just so you could avoid being lonely. That would have been easy to do because you have this amazing sexy, masculine energy. God!" She rolled her eyes. "Your smile makes me melt. My respect for you as a person, as a man, grows more and more. I trust you. So often you surprise me. That's why I love you, darling," she said. She took his face in her hands and kissed his mouth.

Tony DeLuca absolutely, unequivocally, without a doubt, ate her words up. He always benefited when he spoke from his heart to hers and today was no exception. In turn, she lapped up his words with the same eagerness a hungry kitten has for a plate of cream. Like now. When she wanted to hear more, his words would satisfy her emotionally. Then words of love flowed from her like water from an artisan well.

"When I look at you," he said, "I feel so lucky. Because of you I've grown into the man you described."

"You were always that man," she said. They sat together, held hands and peered deeply into each other's eyes for the next few minutes.

"Why didn't you get a girlfriend right away?" she asked.

"I wanted someone who was mature and emotionally generous. Without those qualities, I was afraid I'd just bring a lot of drama into my life. I didn't want unnecessary theatrics affecting the kids, either."

She placed her right palm on his open left palm and stretched her fingers against his fingers. He arched his hand forward and then stretched her fingers in the same manner.

"I love that," Vive whispered.

"The hand stretch?"

"Yes," she said. "I'm holding pens, a mouse, brushes, pencils, all day and my right hand, even my forearm, becomes tense. This feels so nice." She sighed with pleasure. "Your touch is becoming very important to my welfare."

Tony DeLuca was the reason Vieve loved Central Park in the spring, more than any other time of year. Springtime melted away the fears. Grief over losses of her previous existence had healed by the time spring arrived.

They walked back to her office on this cool day, warmed by expressions of new love. For Tony, who had loved Katie, the love of his youth, his love for Vieve was based on admiration of her maturity and wisdom, on the substance of her priorities, the way health and healing radiated from her. He and the DeLuca men thought she was gorgeous. A blue-eyed blonde, with a body softer now than in her youth, her figure was still round and feminine in all the right places. Just this morning, when he shaved, he noticed how deep the laugh lines around his eyes had become. She had none, just smooth, pretty skin.

For Vieve who had been disappointed, frustrated and abused, she was amazed that she was able to feel this kind of devotion for another man. She had given up on the only-have-eyes-for-you kind of passion that sweetly yearns for love and when fulfilled, rests, and dreams of more. For Vieve, whose love had dried up, disappeared and ceased to exist for her first husband, her love for Tony was based on substance and reality. Love was a comfort and an incredible joy to them both because they appreciated the feeling more now than either had in their youth. Life experience made this new love richer.

"This was another one of your good ideas. I'm really glad we did this," she said.

"Me too, babe."

When they arrived at her office building, he went upstairs with her, more to claim her publicly than anything. He felt territorial regarding this woman and he wanted to make his presence in her life public. Someone commented on her new earrings and she glowed when she said they were a gift from Tony. He waited to say good-bye until there were people milling around. This way, when he kissed her on the mouth they all saw that he loved her and she loved him. Love made them a couple.

Chapter 52 - Resolute

"Choose the guy who takes you home to

meet his parents, not to his bedroom."

From Digital Romance

on Facebook

Michael Fiore, Life Coach

ANOTHER Tuesday night with the DeLuca's and Vieve sat next to Tony on one of the two sofas. Johnny and Yolanda were cuddled up on the other one. Joe watched CNN. Rosemary worked a crossword puzzle as Tony whispered in Vieve's ear. The kids were in bed, even Joey was asleep in his cousin Vincent's room. Vieve giggled, whispered back and he grinned.

"Your hair smells beautiful," he said.

"Well I spray a little Channel No. 5 on my hairbrush so when I brush my hair it's scented," she said.

"Really?" Tony said. "I love that."

He jiggled his empty beer can. She took it, and picked up glasses and empty snack bowls. "I'm going into the kitchen. Want another? Joe? Anyone?"

"No thanks, honey," Joe said from his chair as she stood and walked to the kitchen.

Tony was right behind her. While she opened the refrigerator, he nuzzled the back of her neck. She arched her back and threw her head back, a true sign of arousal in a woman. He turned her around, slid his arms around her waist and kissed her throat and earlobes. Vieve was getting completely lost in Tony's kisses these days.

He whispered, "The kids are in bed. We could sneak over to your place," he said and kept kissing her mouth and neck. She not only accepted his kisses, she kissed him back with intensity and passion. Then she stopped.

Tony said, "What?"

"Tony. I want to be physical with you too. I love you, very much and you are so damn sexy! I keep saying that, but we're not teenagers," she said. "We need to be responsible, not just for ourselves. We need to be good examples for your kids. You know that children learn more by example than by anything you'll tell them. When you tell Gabrielle and Vincent to wait and think clearly in moments of raging hormones, are you going to be able to speak with freeness, knowing you waited?" Vieve asked. She pulled away, then walked back to the living room. She felt she was right about this. He could always challenge her thoughts and feelings, but when he didn't it was because he agreed. _Qui Tacit consentire videtur;_ Silence implies consent.

Vieve waited and when there was no response from Tony she continued, "You've got smart kids, Tony. You're going to be grateful you have every bit of ammunition you can have during those times, because it's not far off." When she said this Joe raised his eyebrows. Rosemary smiled at her crossword puzzle.

Tony was a little uncomfortable that she was so open in front of his folks and Johnny and Yolanda. Tony made a face. He looked at his Mom and Dad, and Yolanda and Johnny, who had heard what Vieve said, but their faces held no expression.

Vieve saw him glance at his folks. "Tony, your family knows we stop things," she whispered.

"You just need a little more time," Tony said softly.

Yolanda, who had Joe's attention, pointed to the third finger of her left hand and nodded knowingly. Johnny saw the gesture and squeezed her shoulder.

Vieve reached for her sweater. "Thanks for a wonderful dinner," she said to Joe and Rosemary.

"Your welcome, honey," they said, almost in unison.

"Goodnight," Vieve said to a roomful of Goodnights.

Tony took her sweater and held it up as she put her arms through the sleeves. He reached for the doorknob, opened the door and followed her out.

When the door closed behind them Johnny said, "Bravo Vieve."

Chapter 53 - Male Sexuality Class

"Only the united beat of sex and

heart together can create ecstasy."

Anaïs Nin (1903 – 1977)

Delta of Venus

Cuban American essayist

CINNAMON'S was closed for the evening, but chairs had been set up in a circle in the back corner of the store. There were three women and, sixteen men, including Vincent and Tony. They were attending the first of Kenneth Meadows Male Sexuality Workshop, which was held on three consecutive Tuesdays.

Dr. Meadows began his discussion with energies and frequencies and gave them websites, book titles and an overview of Dr. Emoto's work regarding human consciousness having an effect on the molecular structure of water. Then he said, "I've given you this background because everything in the universe is connected and has an effect on everything else. Deborah Taj Anapol, PhD, has interesting and unusual thoughts regarding this. She believes that our life force and our sexual energy originate from the same source. When we examine and consider the Yoni, one feels the expression of awe and wonder that transcends any particular culture. The Yoni is a special place, in the body, in the relationship, in the Universe. The joining of the Yoni and the Lingam is nothing but awesome.

"Dr. Anapol also says that sex is sacred because of its role in bonding. Mutually satisfying sexual exchanges naturally intensify bonding. But sex can also take place without bonding if we keep our hearts closed. Sex opens the heart, but only if we bring the energy up. The Tantric attitudes of slowing down, awakening all of the senses, tuning in to subtle energy, letting go of judgment and blame, shame and guilt, expressing gratitude for the gift of life, and savoring the present moment are really necessary during intimacy.

"Before we explore men's sexuality and contrast it to a woman's sexuality, the yin and the yang, I want to state something that is very elementary. I hope you men are talking to your women. I hope you are complimenting them and mentioning positive things when you catch them doing something right. I hope you're not just expecting them to be in the relationship so they can provide what you require. Or only speaking to them when they make mistakes or do something wrong. Enough on that.

"To connect with someone is to form an enduring link—to feel a strong sense of mutual caring, closeness, and appreciation. This kind of relationship satisfies our need to belong. Have you noticed how the bond with your partner can even take place in the absence of sex whenever you share a powerful experience? This bond is critical to survival and supports health and happiness. People live longer and have less problems when they have a family-social-community framework. Sex helps bring people together, through physical attraction, and then keeps them together, because of bonding. What else could motivate us to overcome the difficulties we encounter in a relationship with our partner? Love making with them is fun and readily available.

"Let's start here. There are basic differences between men and women."

He picked up a black marker and began at the white board, which rested on an easel. He drew a stick figure of a man and a woman, and continued.

"Just by looking at their anatomies you can see where these are: At the first Chakra level, at the genitals," here he drew a triangle at the woman's Yoni and an arrow pointing up and away from the man's body which represented his Lingam. He drew two circles on the woman to represent breasts. "The 1st Chakra, the Root Chakra, represents our foundation and is all about feeling grounded and secure. Men's anatomies protrude here," he tapped on the first Chakra, "and since women's organs are internal they are concave at this point in their anatomy. This makes sense because men give and women receive here. Men are like the sun, giving radiance and light, and women are like the moon, receiving and reflecting the light from the sun. A man gives his sexual energy to a woman who receives it. This area also generates security and stability given from a man to a woman. Speaking of 'power', a man has such power in his body. Most men are physically stronger than women. How will you men use this strength to enhance and build the relationship? Please deeply consider this. You can start with: He provides for her. I'm not just referring to money."

He continued, "Going up, we find the Sacral Chakra which is involved in our connection and ability to accept others and new experiences. At the second Chakra, since women's wombs are internal, they have little tummies, a bit of roundness here, while men are usually very straight at this point in their bodies. This is the womb area, where babies are grown. It's a center for creation. Creativity is very important to women. If a woman's career is creative for her, she can feed this area without a man, but it takes work, and that can deplete her feminine power. During lovemaking, a woman can become highly orgasmic. When her partner lays his hands on her womb area and remains loving and authentic with appreciation of her, she will get control of her feminine power. Her partner can tell because she'll become very emotional and expressive when her power comes back. She may laugh or cry.

"The next level is the third Chakra, stomach area or Solar Plexus. This is the area of drive—'achieve, do, build'—and success. It is where our ability to be confident and in control of our lives resides. On a woman, this is where sweetness comes from. And men need this sweetness of life, they don't seem able to generate it on their own. This is why a man will say to his woman: 'I need you.' It's also an area of deep emotional pleasure. Men are drawn to women because women are feeding the sweetness of life to their man. This is where kindness, pleasantness, and her belief in him come from. In turn, when she receives creativity and empowerment from him, then she blossoms. Emotionally unhealthy women use sex for manipulation or they will try to change a man. Then things in the relationship become distorted and steadiness is disrupted.

"A healthy relationship is balancing, because he is empowered by her emotionally balancing him. When he marries her, this gives her status in life and she becomes inspired by her man to become powerful herself. All the cultures have a saying similar to 'behind every successful man is a woman.' When a man pampers his woman, the pampering comes from this area." He tapped on the male stick figure in the stomach area. "And when a woman receives pampering and luxury from him she feels even more feminine. It's very possible that a man can block this area and not feed the feminine power. You see this when a married man takes on a lover or when he is controlling. This pulls power and energy away from his woman. Over time it can even cause disease in her because when she is dried up emotionally there are physical effects and biological changes.

"The next area is the heart Chakra and involves our ability to love. This is more developed in women, and here women's breasts protrude and men are very flat here. This is where unconditional love comes from. Think of a mother nursing her baby—such tenderness and nourishment. Think of the Bible's delicious description of breasts: intoxicating. These are beautiful, erotic words that are authentic to men and women. Most men love breasts and when she reveals her breasts to him, remember that her heart Chakra, with all of that unconditional love, is right there, being revealed, as well."

They watched Kenneth slice fruits in half: A pear, a peach, an avocado, a papaya, and an apple. They passed around a rose, an orchid and a gardenia. The group discussed Yonis. He explained that while all Yonis are different, a similar shape is found in nature over and over. The centers of the fruits all contain the seeds, which are surrounded by a Yoni-like shape. They also discussed how Yoni's are especially like the petals in blossom buds as they unfold.

One woman said, "I wonder if there is a subliminal message in giving flowers to a woman. A rosebud is like a Yoni and in a pleasant environment, it opens like a Yoni?"

Kenneth nodded and said, "Often in Eastern Art a receptive, feminine, fully aroused woman is represented as an open Lotus flower, completely in bloom, ready to receive pollination. Wise, ancient powers believed that health, beauty and longevity could all be achieved through a strong and healthy Yoni. We should respect it. We all begin our lives in a womb and enter life through a Yoni."

He provided two drawings, an obscurely artful Yoni and an almost unidentifiable semi-erect Lingam, and explained pleasure centers on a woman and a man. He said, "Please, always remember that respectful appreciation and gratitude to the Universe or God or the higher power that a man prays to will help a man to consider and approach the woman properly, with appreciation. In about twenty minutes of foreplay, a woman's Yoni will open fully. This shows that she is ready to physically receive him. Women enjoy their partner teasing and releasing during foreplay. At this point she may even beg for penetration, which is a very delicious experience. In time, a man will come to enjoy warming up his partner as he watches and appreciates her responses to him.

"Often a woman really enjoys hearing their man's voice during lovemaking. Remember that she is in 'receiving mode' during lovemaking. She receives and responds to his voice, his touch, his mouth, his gaze. In time, with practice and patience, she can receive multiple ecstasies over another twenty minutes or so. Most men ejaculate within seven minutes after penetration. With each ejaculation enough sperm, from 100 million to 250 million, are released. That's enough to populate a good portion of the planet with every lovemaking experience. It's easy to see that physical love is a priority on this planet. But in the physical act of love, remember that while it's sperm-rich, it is egg choosy. Mothers, women are very important, indeed.

"In sexual congress, women and men are to be mutually loved and honored. Women need to feel cherished and men need to feel respected within their relationship. When our society or culture encourages men to include dehumanizing acts in copulation and teaches women to accept various forms of violence against them as a "natural" part of sexual activity, we are condoning violence against women. No decent, mentally healthy woman will feel cherished from explicitly demeaning and misogynistic language.

"We need to make up our minds about this and I hope you will choose to celebrate and accept the complete spectrum of humanity. My prayer is that you are committed to treating each person as having inherent worth and value. We never want to normalize fantasy as reality–that can be damaging to ideas about physical love. It sets up judgments and failures.

"I don't want this workshop to feel like it's all clinical because there are times when everything is so exciting and juicy that partners will want to rip each other's clothes off. This is not to say that a woman will never initiate lovemaking, because she will. Let's go back to our stick figures. Look at how, in an embrace, all the Chakras are perfectly lined up. Hugs are like a sexual lock receiving a key.

"Next week we will watch two European videos explaining Tantric massage, which involves all the senses. The people in the videos are nude, in case you need to wrap your minds around that. I say that because European and American cultures see nudity very differently. I believe you will find the Yoni massage and the Lingam massage to be truly beautiful. And we will discuss in detail male prostate massage, because it's so beneficial to a man's health."

One woman asked, "I came here to understand men better. But, how can I attract my soul mate?"

"Wonderful question." Kenneth sighed. "To attract a soul mate, you must not look outside of yourself. First, fully embrace, love and accept yourself just as you are. Some people are uncomfortable with this, but if you remember, Jesus said to love your neighbor as yourself. So, self-love and acceptance are essential and I encourage you to keep growing. When you love yourself, at any given moment, with all of your flaws, frailties and insecurities, your frequencies rise and this turns you into a powerful manifesting magnet. By diving deep into self-acceptance, through spiritual practices like prayer and meditation, energy psychology techniques, yoga and the like, you'll find that it's much easier for everyone else to feel at peace when hanging out with you. Look within to find your treasures."

Tony thought of Vieve and compared her to what Kenneth was teaching. For her, emotional healing was achieved first at the Shelter in Ohio, then through energy psychology and a few sessions with a good psychologist here. She told Tony that when she was married to Jim she had been very nervous, which he found hard to believe because he saw her as wise, loving, content and always growing. People were naturally drawn to her. She was fun and pleasant and full of forgiveness. Everything that Kenneth had said was true and authentic to Tony. Tony realized how proud he was of Vieve.

Kenneth continued, "When you're okay with all your parts, physical, mental, spiritual and emotional, it's easy to open the door to intimacy with anyone. It doesn't even matter if it's a romantic love relationship or not, you'll find yourself connecting on a deeper level with everybody! We all deserve to feel the freedom and joy of what it's like to let our guard down fully, so we can truly let in love. It takes personal surrender to accomplish this. Not to mention, a lot of trust. There is no other way than true vulnerability to find this divine intimate connection. It is the gateway to knowing what it's like to be fully alive. Remember what Mark Nepo said, 'the flower doesn't dream of the bee. It blossoms and then the bee appears'."

A woman asked a question about Western, so called 'Christian' religionists having become judgmental about love making. She said, "I've thought how certain 'churchy' people were 'sexually repressed' or 'sexually frustrated', but outside of that anything goes. Such a dichotomy. Any comments on that?"

Kenneth said, "It's been my observation that a great deal of knowledge was formed in the East, including the writings of the Bible, Muhammad and Buddha and the principles of Taoism. Then Jesus, Moses, and Abraham worshipped one God, and they credited God with giving every man and woman the ability to reproduce or procreate. Even the Bible has very sexy, juicy language about physical love. Just read the Song of Solomon. All throughout history, people started making rules about what was proper, rather than realizing that it's our words and behavior, it's what motivates us, that counts.

"Have you noticed that when you try to control something all creativity is lost? It dries up. The Industrial Revolution saw the beginning of massive control of our environment. Efficiency replaced natural rhythms. My father's generation came out of World War 2 and the Korean War, which affected emotions greatly. War and economic downturns dehumanize people. And men, with their physical strength, can so quickly dehumanize a woman. This resulted in many of us being raised by parents who were themselves victims—who were not taught to see their own worth, or who were not really seen by their own parents. My grandparent's generation faced massive trauma and upheaval due to the World War 1 and the Great Depression. The focus was on survival and minimizing the damage, rather than on love, appreciation and intimacy. The 1960s was all about the Cultural Revolution because kids recognized the bad behaviors coming from the adults and they wanted to change all that. So, society took a turn in an extremely opposite direction. What matters is each of us, as authentic, present individuals, and how we behave and speak and treat others.

"I like what Deepak Chopra said, 'People are looking for love. They talk about being in love. But consider what that means. It doesn't mean that you're going to find someone who can fulfill all your needs. It means understanding the abundance of the Universe. We are in love. Consider what that looks like. Think about immersing yourself in love. How would you speak? How would you act?'" He paused, "It's really very personal."

Since there were no more questions everyone milled around for a bit and drank iced Red Zinger tea sweetened with a little raw honey and nibbled healthy cookies and vegetable chips. A few came forward and spoke more privately to Kenneth. Tony asked Kenneth if he could review the 'Tantric Massage' videos before he allowed Vincent to see it in the group setting next week and Kenneth gave him the DVD.

When someone else talked about lack of self-love, Tony and Vincent heard Kenneth make this comment, "To not admit love and acceptance of yourself is to resist the universal power set in place by God, or a higher-power, and it is a God-given right. Jesus said to look at people's fruitages and I think he was right. So, and this is my opinion entirely, how can you see what a person is really like, or bond when you're hooking up with them at a bar? Or popping in bed with them a couple of hours after you meet them?" He shook his head. "That's lust and sex based on techniques. There is no building of a relationship there. But, if that's what you want, that's your decision."

Vincent was quiet. He was taking it all in. Tony told him he was glad they were attending this together and that, personally, he had learned a lot.

Chapter 54 - Joe and Rosemary

"To have her here in bed with me,

breathing on me, her hair in my mouth

— I count that something of a miracle."

Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer

JOE pulled back the covers in bed and climbed next to his wife who vigorously rubbed lotion from her hands to her forearms, past her elbows. He leaned against the headboard, folded his hands and placed them in his lap above the blanket. "I knew Vieve would be perfect for Tony," he said, smiling, pleased with himself, as if he had orchestrated the entire romance.

Rosemary just raised her eyebrows and kept applying the lotion.

"Vieve's already raised her kids. Tony's kids would only have to get used to her, not her and her kids. And it's not like her biological clock is running out and she wants to finally have a baby. Vieve's perfect for Tony and his situation. She's got a lot of sound experience to bring to the table," he said.

"She doesn't look older than him, does she? Not that it matters. Tony's going to look older than her if he doesn't stop drinking his beer so much," Rosemary said. "He's gonna get pudgy."

"He works out too much to gain weight. He's still got six-pack abs. Besides, when I started getting pudgy you told me I was cute," he said, tickling her ribs.

"When did I say you were pudgy?" she asked. He never failed to amuse her.

"September 17, 1976."

"Honestly, Joe."

"I remember the date because that was the night Anthony was conceived," he said.

"Joe, the pudgier you get, the cuter you get," she giggled as she sank into her pillow.

"And the more glamorous you get my Lady Rosemary," he said as she giggled again. He reached over her and shut off the light. "I hope they get married soon," he said in the dark as he snuggled with her. "Because then the place will be empty and I can sing opera after I make love to you," he said. "All great lovers sing opera after they make love."

"Oh, I didn't know that," Rosemary said in the darkness.

"Yeah," Joe said. "I've been restraining myself for a very long time."

Chapter 55 - Gabrielle

"After this, when she begins coming

to see him frequently, he should carry on

long conversations with her, for,'

says Ghotakamukha, 'though a man loves a

girl ever so much, he never succeeds in

winning her without a great deal of talking'."

Comments on courtship –

Kama Sutura of Vatsyanyan

(Approximately 2 CE)

Indian philosopher

JOHNNY jumped up from the sofa. "Home Run! Here come the Yankees!" Johnny yelled. Tony, Vincent, Sophia and Gabrielle joined him and Joe sat on the edge of his seat, beer in hand and grinned while beating the arm of the chair. Vieve watched the DeLuca's while the DeLuca's watched the baseball game on Joe's new big screen television that his sons had bought for him. Rosemary and Yolanda were each doing their own thing, happy with some alone time for themselves. They all agreed that it was important for the guys and kids to bond and have some fun together.

Joey ran around the room slapping hands and yelling, "Here come the Yankees!"

When Vieve went into the kitchen, Gabrielle followed her. "Your real name is Genevieve," Gabrielle began.

"Yes, dear," Vieve said as she rinsed out a glass.

"It's a pretty name," Gabrielle said.

"Thank you," Vieve said opening the dishwasher and placing the glass in the top rack.

"Dad said you prefer to be called Vieve."

Vieve nodded. "Um hmm." All of Tony's children were serious, but Gabrielle was the most introverted. She was thirteen and a little gangly. She had long, wavy hair, sans bangs. Vieve had taught her how to straighten her thick, brown mane and she favored her father.

Vieve opened her bag and pulled out a gallon sized clear plastic bag with manicure supplies. "Do you want to soak with me?"

Gabrielle nodded. Vieve went to the sink and half-filled a bowl with warm water, then dissolved a Vitamin C tablet in the water. "These are supposed to help make your nails strong, and mine just never seem to grow." They placed their fingertips in the water and Vieve continued. "I never felt like a 'Genevieve', or a 'Genny', but I felt like a' Vieve.'"

"Oh," Gabrielle said.

"Do you think that 'Gabrielle' suits you?"

The girl shook her head.

"How about 'Gabby?'"

Gabrielle made a face.

"Well, it doesn't fit you because you're not chatty, you're a serious-minded thinker." Vieve's eyes widened at an idea. "Coco Chanel's first name was Gabrielle," Vieve explained.

"Who?" Gabrielle asked.

"She was a French designer and founder of the Chanel Perfume brand."

"Coco?" Gabrielle scrunched up her nose.

Vieve winced, "Sorry. It's just that a nickname doesn't have to have anything to do with your given name. Hmm. Brielle?"

Gabrielle brightened.

"What if we try it for a while?"

Gabrielle nodded. "Nonni and Poppy call Dad 'Anthony,' Uncle Johnny calls him 'Anth' and you call him 'Tony'."

"Yes. And his crew calls him 'Captain.' He's very flexible." Vieve checked a grin and looked at the clock, "Three more minutes," she said motioning with her head to their soaking bowl. "You have such pretty, long nails, you probably don't need this. Do you want me to polish them?"

"Just with the clear, like you do," Gabriele said.

"Oh, you're a French-manicure girl, after my own heart, Brielle. White tips Brielle?"

The girl nodded.

"I like it." Vieve said the name again. "Brielle. It's pretty. It fits you." Vieve dried Gabrielle's hands and applied the templates to finish her nail tips in white polish. Then she put two coats of clear polish over her nails. "I heard you singing to yourself the other day. You have a lovely voice. You love music, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Any favorites?"

"Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata," Gabrielle said.

"Really? That was the first classical piece I learned to play on the piano," Vieve said.

"When Dad took me to hear the Philharmonic Orchestra, they played it."

"I'm so glad you liked it. It's a beautiful piece. I switched to strings, because I found the sound so soothing. And I finally settled on the Cello because I love the depth, the resonance of the sound."

"I like the shape of the Cello. It reminds me of Mrs. Kellerman."

They laughed, "You're right!" Vieve chuckled. "If you were going to learn an instrument, which one would it be?"

"The piano."

"Why?"

"I enjoy the range of notes—very high to very low. You can really control the melody."

Vieve took the girl's right hand in hers and stroked it. "You have beautiful, long fingers. You are an elegant looking person. Most classical pianists are very dignified." Vieve smiled, "And then there are people who just have fun with the piano. Like Jerry Lee Lewis."

"Dad told me I would have liked that concert you two went to."

"Well, next time we need to make it we three!"

Finished with their manicures and their conversation, Vieve and Gabrielle returned to the Living Room with the others. Vieve noticed that Brielle was more expressive with her pretty hands and fingers from the confidence the manicure gave her. It brought out her femininity.

When the girl showed her fingers to her Dad, he brightened and said, "Very pretty. It makes me want to kiss your hands." He kissed her hands and winked.

Brielle picked up a book and went into her room. Vieve snuggled into Tony's chest and enjoyed hearing the discussion of the game in the DeLuca men's monosyllables, grunts and other testosterone induced expressions. Her eyes were closed, and after a while she began to fall asleep in spite of the volume in the room.

"It's got to be hard to coach a game when the players make more money than you do," Joe said.

Tony agreed. "It's the talent being managed. That's always the case."

"Yeah. A coach needs respect if he's gonna do his job well," Johnny said.

Tony nuzzled Vieve's hair and kept an eye on the game. He yelled with the other guys and she smiled, eyes still closed. "That was good. I can't believe he called a foul!" he said.

"Pennsylvania's gonna get slaughtered!" Joe yelled.

During the commercial break a newscaster reported that a firefighter in California had died while battling the wild forest fire that had been blazing for over a week. Vieve sat up and listened to the report with interest and looked down, holding back, because she really wanted to scream in frustration and rant over her fear. When Joe cleared his throat, which got Tony's attention, Joe nodded at Vieve and turned the volume down, then tossed the remote on the end table. He started to discuss the game with Johnny.

"Aw, did the news upset you?" Tony asked.

Vieve nodded, stood up and slouched into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. She sat down at the table, and then looked out the window. She wondered if this was the issue that would end their relationship.

Tony came to the doorway and stared at Vieve. He cleared his throat. He got a beer from the refrigerator and sat down across the table from her. The can made a hissing sound when he opened it. "You know that we are always studying the nature of fires. Firefighters understand how fire works like an electrician understands how current works. Right?"

She nodded.

"Those wild fires are way different than the fires I work around. In those open fires the winds can shift and you can find yourself surrounded by flames before you realize what happened." He said, "Talk to me, baby."

Vieve took a deep breath. She focused on his face. A face she was beginning to dream about at night. "We've connected on so many levels and my feelings for you are so deep," she looked away. "Whenever I hear a siren, my heart races. I get panicky and I think of you in a life-threatening situation. I know you save lives. I know that you are good at your job and everyone depends on you to keep them safe." She paused and laughed a little. "If I were in a disaster I would want you there, leading me. Saving me. I've tried to keep my mind on other stuff. Now the place that contains all of the wonderful things that you are to me is also filling up with panic and anxiety. That's what's going on."

"I'm always sorry when I don't respond quickly to you," he motioned to the living room. "I was thinking about the game. Your feelings are very important to me. Firefighting is my job and you only see the dangers, so you're naturally afraid."

Vieve nodded but her worried expression, her pursed lips and furrowed forehead, showed she was still stressed.

He leaned forward and stroked her cheek with his finger. "I see the fire or the rescue as an opportunity to help save lives. Healthy fear keeps firefighters from doing anything reckless, which could cause injury to us. A firefighter must remain uninjured so they can help others. I certainly respect a fire, and that makes me more careful, more alert to dangers. Vieve, we get training all the time. Every day we have a drill, which keeps us sharp and prepared. And we do a lot more than put out fires. Our rescue operations are extensive."

He drank from his can, but he watched her face, and continued. "It's not like being a cop. We know our enemy. Cops are in uniforms and they are easy targets. Like Johnny was. They never know who's gonna shoot at them. When the fire engine pulls up we're the heroes. People cheer. I want you to get some accurate information so you'll understand my job better."

She nodded.

Tony continued. "Yeah, there can be a disaster, but we've talked about how any job has risks. Hell, we all take a certain amount of risks or we'd never get out of bed in the morning. I can help you with this. I wanna discuss this more with you. You and me, we're worth working for, babe." He heard his father and brother moan and Vincent's comments about their fantasy team's line-ups. "It's just that I really want to watch the game now. Okay?"

She nodded. He stood up and held out his hand and said, "Isn't it nice us just sitting together?"

Vieve took his hand and let him lead her out of the kitchen. Even when an issue was not resolved, whenever he talked to her, she felt better.

Chapter 56 - Zoo Day

"Children's talent to endure stems from

their ignorance of alternatives."

Maya Angelou (1928 – 2014)

Poet, author and civil rights activist

_I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings_ , 1969

GEMMA and Vieve spent their Saturday together with the younger kids, and made a quick stop at the Central Park Zoo. Ajay was now five, attending Kindergarten, Adrienne was two and Sophia would soon turn seven.

"She's a smart little girl," Gemma said of Sophia as the girl and Ajay fed Park-approved snacks to the seals. Adrienne slept in her stroller.

"Isn't she?" Vieve said as she watched the children laughing, pointing to a squirrel eating a peanut, mimicking his fat cheeks. Adrienne stirred.

"How is dating her Daddy going?" Gemma asked as she adjusted the stroller for the child's comfort.

"It's wonderful," she grinned. "It's a breath of fresh air. Hah! Men my age and older think they are fascinating. But, Tony thinks I'm fascinating." Vieve raised her eyebrows and winked. "The guys my age and older who find out about us are a trip. It's as if I've entered 'the forbidden zone.' Their insecurities are very apparent." She grew quieter, "Outside of classical, Tony's musical tastes are really different from mine—the age gap. I got a little apprehensive when I realized he was eight when I went to my junior prom. And then what happens is the relationship progresses and these things aren't an issue anymore."

"I think he's great!"

"Isn't he? He can be so funny. Mostly, I just really love our conversations. And that whole DeLuca family is a bunch of cuddlers. I love that." A warm smile grew on Vieve's face. "You know how when you take a guy's arm to walk with him you feel them tighten their biceps? Tony is so strong his whole arm is hard muscle. I love that—way more than I ever thought I would. It's all so different than I expected. So much better than I hoped."

Adrienne woke up and rubbed her eyes. She smiled at her mother and reached for help to get out of the stroller.

"What are you up to these days, Gemma?"

"I love my job. I see a lot of abused women coming into ER. I wish that would end and then I remind myself that it ended for me and for you. I tell them that too. We did the work." She paused and sighed. "I tried out for the Fifth Avenue Neighborhood Theater. I got the part of Bess in Porgy 'N Bess! It's not the whole opera, just kind of a 'Best of Gershwin.'"

"Wow! That's great! 'Oh Bess, you is my woman now'," she sang in as deep a voice as she could muster and they laughed. "I can't wait! This is so exciting!" Vieve said as Adrienne ran to the other children. "She's adorable. Look at those chubby thighs—thunder thighs!" they laughed again. "Anything else?"

"I don't know. Maurice is a nice guy, in Radiology at the hospital. He's the one who told me to try out for the musical. He's directing it."

"This could be serious," Vieve said. "Guys just love to tell their women what to do. Tony does it all the time. It's one of the first signs they are really interested."

Gemma laughed. "You know Maurice. He played the percussion at the Benefit."

"And never showed up for rehearsals," Vieve said. "Drove me crazy!"

"He's the one," Gemma said. "He has a little girl who lives with her Mom and he hangs around me a lot. It's hard to trust when you've got battle scars," Gemma said.

"I know, Gemma. Never settle," Vieve squeezed her friend's hand. "You've got a lot of time, honey. You're a beautiful, intelligent, young woman." The children came back to them. Vieve took a selfie of them all with her phone.

"Do you want to bring Maurice over and hang out with me and Tony? Maybe dinner? Tony's pretty discerning."

"Yes, that's a good idea," Gemma said.

"He notices everything. I've come to depend on that." Vieve smiled at her friend. "After I talk to Tony I'll text you with a couple of dates that he's available."

Gemma heard a man speak to parents who were watching the seals with their children. Suddenly, Gemma's face went blank and she gasped.

"What's wrong?" Vieve frantically looked at the faces in the crowd.

"That man over there. I thought he was," she glanced around her and mouthed LeVar. "I thought, for a minute, that he'd found us."

The two women each wrestled with their past for a moment.

When Vieve's heartbeat finally slowed to normal she reached for Gemma's hand and whispered, "You've changed everything: Names, appearance, even your speech. Only New York comes out of your mouth. There isn't a hint of anything else." Vieve patted Gemma's hand. "You are fine, honey. Even if it was him, he'd never recognize you."

Chapter 57 - Anniversary

"We cannot solve our problems with the

same mindset that created them."

Albert Einstein (1879 – 1955)

German-born Theoretical Physicist

VIEVE was now a back-door guest at Joe and Rosemary's house, which meant that she didn't have to knock. Somewhere around the time when Tony sold the motorcycle, Joe and Rosemary seemed to completely accept her. They had opened their home and their hearts to her, and that action enabled her to relax and enjoy them all as a trusted family member. Feeling accepted by decent people, who she loved, meant the world to her.

"Happy anniversary!" Vieve smiled as she entered the kitchen without knocking and greeted everyone. "Big day in the city! Huh?"

Joe slurped his coffee. "Yeah. Rosemary's still getting ready."

Just a couple of months had gone by and Vieve's hair was getting longer. Joe thought it looked nice—softer, very touchable and feminine.

"You look especially handsome Joe," Vieve said as she kissed his forehead and placed a gift-wrapped box next to his cup. "I just wanted to stop by and see you two lovebirds off. Are you going to open the restaurant today, Johnny?" she asked.

Johnny was hunched over a cup of coffee and ate a piece of toast in two large chomps. He slurped his coffee. He said, "Me and Vincent are going in at 10:30. Yolanda is already there. She's more of a morning person than I am."

No one would doubt that statement. His eyes were squinty and sleepy. A long puffy face just ached to go back to bed. Vieve found him adorable. When she kissed his hair from behind him, he enjoyed it. He rolled his eyes, closed them and smiled. The DeLuca men really loved Vieve, even Vincent was coming around.

Rosemary fastened her wristwatch as she entered the kitchen. She took a step back and called down the hall, "Anthony, Vieve's here!"

"I came to see you guys off and wish you a Happy Anniversary day uptown," Vieve said as she gave Rosemary a little gift-wrapped box. Inside was a glass paperweight of the Empire State Building. Rosemary collected paperweights and everyone knew that Joe proposed at the top of the Empire State building forty-six years ago, when Rosemary was nineteen and he was twenty-one. "I know you treasure the one Joe gave you, but this one lights up." Vieve loved that Rosemary and Joe always spent the day together for their anniversary—just the two of them.

Vieve motioned to Joe to open his present, which was a cherry hand-carved musical lighted stand to place Rosemary's paperweight on. He pushed a button. Rosemary placed the paperweight on top. Snowflakes glowed as they fell softly to the frosted glass street, lit by the bottom light on the stand that shined upward. It played You Light Up My Life.

"How 'bout that," Joe said. "Isn't that nice. Thank you, honey." He stood up and kissed her cheek.

Rosemary stepped back and stared at Joe who was giving last minute instructions to Johnny. She cleared her throat. Throat clearing was a respected cue in this household and Vieve was becoming adept at understanding the non-verbal communication of this family.

Tony came in the kitchen with his hair sticking up every which way and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He pulled a light blue sweater over his head. "Hey, babe," he whispered, as he nuzzled Vieve's hair. She patted his whiskery cheek. He motioned with the coffee pot as if to ask, "Do you want a cup?"

Vieve looked at the clock. "Yes, please. I've got time."

"Girl's Day with Gemma?" Tony asked hoarsely as he scratched his stomach and stretched. He poured two cups and added lots of milk to Vieve's mug.

Vieve thanked him, inhaled the marvelous aroma as if it were a bouquet he had given to her and said, "Yes...and her kids. Workout class at the Y in Brooklyn, lunch and a kid's movie. I love anything with Minions." Regular workouts gave her smooth torso and firm upper arms. Tony had said that she worked out for health not beauty. Johnny had said that in Vieve's case healthy was beautiful. Vincent agreed with Johnny.

They heard a honk.

"The cab is here!" Joe and Rosemary said in unison, waving, scurrying out the door.

"I've got a Chinese 72 starting Thursday," Tony said. "Let's do something with the kids, maybe Joey, Johnny and Yolanda?"

Vieve winked at Johnny and nodded. "I'd like that, darling."

"Yeah," Johnny said.

Sophia came down the hallway and stood in the doorway, holding her Barbie and Ken dolls. "Uncle Johnny. You said you would play Barbie's with me. Please?" she begged.

Johnny said, "Yes, sweetheart," and let the child lead him down the hall.

Vieve squinted as she looked out the window and saw clouds rolling in. "What's the weather forecast?"

When Tony shrugged she walked into the living room and turned on the weather channel. Tony followed her and sat on the couch.

"Cloudy. No rain," she said and clicked the television off.

"Come here, babe," he said. She smiled and straddled his lap, her knees on the sofa cushions, their faces together. He placed both of their cups on the table and whispered something that made her giggle.

Johnny realized he left his coffee on the kitchen table. "I'll be right back, Sophia. I just want to get my coffee," he said. "I don't want it to get cold."

Sophia nodded as she pretended the dolls were talking to each other. "Because Ken hates the way it tastes when it's heated in the microwave," she said to Barbie.

Johnny started down the hall to retrieve the cup and in the mirror he saw Tony flip giggling Vieve on her back and hover over her as he began to kiss her face and neck. Johnny leaned against the hall wall and watched the reflection of the lovers in the mirror. He diverted his gaze to the ceiling.

He really didn't want his coffee to get cold. Johnny sighed, twiddled his thumbs and glanced down. In the mirror, he saw Tony's hand move from the outside of her thigh to her hip to her breast. As Tony continued to kiss her, the breathy sound from Vieve was of complete pleasure, which encouraged Tony to continue.

But after a moment she gently moved his hand away from her breast and said, "Everything I have is real, darling." She smiled and sat up, then walked to the window.

Tony whined. "I want you so much I ache."

"I ache for you too," she said softly.

Tony sighed, heavily, and he picked at a piece of lint on his sweater. The way he slumped and stretched his neck made it clear that he didn't want to hear anything. Vieve had to proceed carefully. Guys never want to hear lectures from their girlfriends. They got enough of that from their mothers. Boyfriends should never identify their girlfriends with their mothers. At least not on that level.

Vieve was quiet for a long moment, breathing deeply, biting her bottom lip, and gathering thoughts so she would be focused. She needed Tony to understand why she had forced him to think about feelings and relationships when he didn't want to think about relationships and feelings. But first she had to get his attention.

"I love you Tony," she began as he still picked at his sweater. "I did the homework, darling. I'm repaired."

Johnny strained to hear her. Tony seemed less interested. He slumped and pouted a bit. This was like a broken record to him.

She sensed his mood and took a different tack. She straddled the club chair arm across from where Tony sat on the couch. "If you and I were totally committed to each other this would be the reality, Tony." Her fingertips almost caressed the tip of the chair's arm. Her voice was low and velvety and she stretched towards the ceiling sensuously as he watched her. When she brought her arms down she ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head. She had his attention. "You would undress me. Then I would undress you."

She looked right at his face, saw Tony swallow hard and she continued to speak. "And we would become very aware of each other, physically," she stretched again and continued. "When we commit to each other, when you pay attention to my breasts, your hands and face and mouth would remain there because that is where you belong."

She filled her lungs with air to give her strength to continue. Tony watched her chest rise and fall with each breath. Liquid blue eyes, pouty lips and hair the color of wheat and honey were just part of the Vieve package. He watched her carefully as her voice became even softer, "And we would enjoy delicious sensual intimacies and discover pleasures that only you and I would share, which would make us even closer than we can imagine now."

When she leaned forward Tony focused on her mouth and her rhythmic breathing. He could smell the Channel No. 5 she scented her body with each morning and that perfumed her hair.

She continued, "You would know how every inch of my body is alive and waiting for Tony DeLuca and that I want to make love, surrender and exhaust myself in you. Only you would know, Tony," her pouty lips whispered. She leaned forward and bit her bottom lip.

Tony bent forward as he sat on the couch. His elbows were propped on his knees and when she finished speaking he hung his head. Then he nodded. He had heard her words and after several long moments of pondering them, he agreed. Tony DeLuca would be the only man to experience this facet of their relationship, something she also desired. He stood up slowly, as if his body weighed so much more than a few minutes ago, and walked to her. He almost lifted her to a standing position.

"I do love you, Vieve," he said. "And I get that."

"Thank you. Please think about what I've said, darling," she responded, kissing his mouth, enjoying the scratchiness of his unshaven cheek, smiling into his face, touching his chin, and taking pleasure in the closeness of their bodies. "All of what I've said." She moved away, threw her sweat suit jacket over her shoulders and grabbed her duffle bag. She shut the door behind her. He knew what she wanted. She wanted him.

Tony DeLuca downed what was left of the lukewarm coffee in his mug. It tasted of bitter grounds. He made a face and walked into the kitchen with both cups, rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a partially filled container of orange juice and drank it straight from the bottle. Johnny filled the doorway with his body. He glared as Tony leaned a little on the open refrigerator door.

"And everyone thinks you're the smart one, Anth," Johnny said smacking his kid brother in the back of the head.

"Hey! I'm drinking juice here!" Tony shouted as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You have always had it so easy and now that you have Vieve's love you don't know what to do with it. Sometimes you are pathetic," Johnny said sarcastically.

"What?"

"Do I have to spell it out? Marry her."

"Johnny, we haven't even slept together."

"Oh my God!" Johnny said the words like sarcastic staccato notes. "Where would the human race be if we couldn't conform to Anthony DeLuca's standards? Do you think it's all about you? Katie made it too easy for you. You were sweethearts in the Eighth Grade. She paved the way for you, smoothed things out for you. Do you think this mature, grounded woman is going to make that mistake?"

Tony was silent.

Johnny continued, "Vieve has accepted you as you are. So, what if she has a boundary or two? You said you wanted one chance with that classy woman and you got it. She's your girlfriend now. You said you wanted your kids to like her and our whole family is crazy about her. What are you gonna do about it? The ball's in your court now, Anth." He emptied his coffee in the sink, poured a fresh cup and turned down the hallway. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph," he muttered.

Chapter 58 - Elliot

"Jealousy is one of the most childish and

crude feelings that a person can feel. It's an

emotion resulting from the fear that the affection

from our partner may, instead, be bestowed

upon someone other than one's own self."

Unknown author

TWO days later Tony and his kids and Johnny, Yolanda and Joey strolled through the Metropolitan Museum of Art with Vieve. As the group moved quietly from painting to painting, Vieve was vaguely aware of a man, in his early-fifties, who remained at the museum after his friends left. The man appeared to be very interested in the pictures Tony and Vieve had just moved away from. Tony must have been aware of him too because he squinted a little at the guy, but Vieve redirected Tony's attention towards Vincent who was enthralled with a Cezanne in another room.

"I was proud of him, getting rid of the materials by himself," Vieve whispered.

"Yeah. Me too," Tony said.

"I'm curious. What would you have done if he hadn't?"

Tony sighed. "I would have 'accidentally' found it, in his presence. Talked more seriously to him. Then had him write a two-page essay on how porn can demean the viewer, the photographer and the models. We'd discuss how our thoughts about sex are normal because we are all sexual beings and what that means to a relationship."

"Yes," she squeezed his hand.

"You've got to be sensitive to them. But, I saw the stuff and it was really demeaning and violent and even mindless anime. I don't want that influencing him. I didn't want him to get stuck in that."

She loved to watch him think about things. He'd purse his lips a little and look down at the floor, sniff quickly through his nostrils as if that brought the thoughts up out of his core. Then he would look up with those warm, soft, brown eyes, speaking and listening and examining her face with his gentleness and regard. "Don't incidents like that make you love them a little more? And that teaches you graciousness to a greater degree. Loving them more, being proud of your child, and developing graciousness. It's so good. It deepens your affection for them."

She nodded. "Good father. Good heart," she said as she patted his chest.

Sophia and Gabrielle moved quickly to their father. "Daddy. You have got to see the horses. They are so beautiful!" Gabrielle said, taking Tony's hand.

Sophia said to Vieve, "You were right about this place, Vieve!"

With the mention of her name the stranger came forward.

"I see you still prefer French manicures, Genevieve," he said as he bent forward towards her face.

She felt her face flush and Tony saw her expression come alive. "Elliot? Oh my God!"

Elliot kissed her cheek and took her hand. "You look wonderful after, lo, these many years," he said, not letting go of her hand.

"Elliot. So do you." She turned to Tony. "This is my boyfriend, Tony DeLuca."

"Elliot Emerson," Elliot said shaking hands with Tony but keeping his eyes on Vieve.

Vieve had told Tony about Elliot, her old pal, and now Tony watched them carefully, suspiciously.

"Elliot was my neighbor when Jim and I were first married," she reminded Tony. "And a very good friend. Oh, my goodness!" she smiled nervously. "I haven't seen him in twenty-some years."

"Vieve, there has to be a Museum Café here. Let's get a cup of coffee and catch up." Elliot slipped an arm around her shoulder and began to lead her away.

She stopped and turned to Tony in a manner that adeptly forced Elliot's arm away from her. She asked, "Join us, darling? Please?"

"You go on. I'll see the horses," he said, backing away towards his daughters who were beckoning him from a doorway.

Yolanda looked at her husband. Johnny raised his eyebrows. Vieve could faintly hear Johnny's deep voice speaking in serious tones, though she couldn't make out his words.

"I would have gone with them if I were you, Anth. Did you see the way he looked at her?" Johnny asked.

Tony just groaned and rubbed his temples. "But the girls—"

"You just remember what I said the other day," Johnny said. He looked into his wife's pretty face. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph."

"I know," Yolanda said to her husband. "You're right."

Elliot and Vieve sat across each other in a booth and caught up. He had been married for a while, no kids and he wasn't dating anyone. He was glad that she had left Jim and managed well. He nodded when she told him about Peter and Sammy and how happy she was living in New York City. He asked if she was serious about Tony.

Vieve took a deep breath and looked squarely in Elliot's eyes.

"He's a wonderful, very decent man. Then there is the matter of the three kids. The youngest is almost seven and the oldest is—"

Elliot's chuckle grew into full laughter. "Oh Genevieve, you really are Mother Theresa."

She had been gone well over an hour when Tony found her and Elliot engrossed in catching up. Old friends who have just seen decades melt like snowflakes in July, they alternated between laughing and then speaking in hushed tones.

"Take your time, babe," Tony said as he scooted next to Vieve in the booth. "More coffee?" he asked, but she gave her head a little shake. He had bottled juice. He looked at her face and she smiled and leaned into him as he casually put his arm around her and possessively smiled at Elliot, claiming Vieve publicly.

Elliot rocked forward and looked at his watch. "Wow! Look at the time. It was great catching up. Now that I'm in DC let's meet halfway and let me take you guys to dinner," he slapped Tony on the shoulders, stood, leaned over the table and kissed her cheek. "You're a lucky guy," he said to Tony. As he left he waved.

"So, are we going to meet him for dinner?" Tony asked as he watched Elliot walk away.

She shook her head, played with Elliot's business card and said, "No. He was just trying to be cordial. I don't really care to reestablish a relationship with him." She looked around. "Where are the kids?"

"They went home with Yolanda and Johnny. They were hungry and Uncle Johnny promised them a Papaya King," Tony said. "You must've been really close."

"He was the only friend I had at a very difficult point in my life." She explained as she tore the card in half. "Well. I was very young. In a miserable, loveless marriage. I'd moved to a different city and knew no one. Elliot was there for me. I told you the story."

"Yeah. I could tell you thought a lot of him by the way your eyes got all liquidy." Tony's voice was flinty.

Vieve stared at Tony in disbelief.

He continued. "When he swooped you away he was pretty familiar for a guy you haven't seen for twenty-some years."

"I'm feeling a mixture of anger, panic and anxiety rising inside of me." She looked straight into Tony's face. "Tony, are you asking me to reveal my past to you?"

Tony nodded.

"Really?"

Another nod.

She took a deep breath. "Okay, time to display the past, warts and all." She wanted to be straightforward and honest. "You know a lot of this. The first time I left Jim was two months after we were married. My parents wouldn't help me so Elliot moved me into his grandmother's house. Jim had just slapped me so hard and Elliot, who lived in the apartment next door, heard my body thud against the common wall. He was afraid for my safety—he wanted to beat Jim up. A month later Elliot insisted that I go to the doctor. I was throwing up every morning and he thought I had an ulcer. I found out that I was three months pregnant with Peter. When I told Elliot, he wanted to put in for a transfer and marry me when my divorce came through. He said we could start out fresh in another area and no one would have to know that the baby wasn't his. He was afraid that Jim would hit me again if I went back to him, but I had tried to defend myself with a two by four, so Jim never dared to lift a finger against me."

Vieve paused to get her composure. Revealing the past meant revisiting the past and the flood of memories about a life that seemed like it occurred a million years ago was still her life, her experiences, and it was all emotionally charged. During the pause, she became aware of Tony's reaction to the story. His face was like stone.

"He must have loved you," he said.

"I was young. Youth is beautiful." She continued, "At the same time Jim told me we could work things out, he said he'd gotten some help and he'd changed." Vieve rolled her eyes. "I wanted so much to believe that. It was all really confusing, but I was responsible for a baby now. Being a Mom and having a family is important to me. And, I felt obliged to fulfill my vow to Jim, so I went back to him. Elliot put in for the transfer and he relocated to San Diego. That's it. If my eyes got liquidy it was because I was experiencing a lot of triggers from my past."

They stood up and left the building in silence.

"Did you love him?" he asked as they walked towards the subway. The sun was setting. The shadows were long and silhouettes in deep purples and blues were long and thin along the ground.

"No. I was very young, inexperienced, scared and vulnerable. He was comforting. I hadn't quite learned enough to realize that you can't expect some man to come riding on a white horse to rescue you. It was a confusing time."

"So, you went to bed with Elliot who was comforting, but you won't with me, and you love me," Tony said.

She stopped walking. Tony took three or four steps and turned around. Vieve looked at his crotch.

"Which part of your anatomy are you thinking with here, Tony? This doesn't feel like love." She said softly.

He motioned to grab her arm but he caught himself and he dropped his hand. They resumed walking. Vieve took long steps and hurried down the subway terminal. The couple was aware of others in close proximity to them, so convention forced them to keep their voices controlled when they might have become louder. Their emotions were showing themselves like a torn stocking, an unzipped fly, or a ripped hem, embarrassing and immensely personal. Vieve was feeling a little claustrophobic and very uncomfortable because Tony was not acting like her soft place to land.

He leaned forward. "I don't understand this?" Tony whispered. He was more disappointed than angry.

Vieve's jaw was clenched, but her voice was soft and low. "Elliot is the reason I came up with standards and boundaries. For me anyway, sex confuses things when it should be elevating. There. That's my past Tony. I've had sex with two men in my life. Two men! Jeez Tony!"

"Well, you've got to consider where I'm at! Going to the Museum and meeting a guy you screwed! This is pretty unfair," Tony's voice became louder. A man who was reading The Wall Street Journal looked up from the paper, shook the open pages and scowled at Tony. Tony shuffled his feet a little and cleared his throat.

Vieve saw the man's scowl. Her feelings and words jumped out of her mouth, but the tone of her voice remained low. "Unfair? Tony, really?" She took a long, deep breath. "You know life isn't all about you, don't you? Unfair?" She muttered again and looked down the track for the train. She felt agitated and folded her arms to try to barricade the emotions. "Almost every day of my life I see your children. Good kids who I enjoy and who I love." Her voice was filled with the frustration of a woman trying to explain a concept to a man who just doesn't get it. "And then I see you look at them and remember Katie. In their faces, you see the woman you loved for fourteen years."

Her voice cracked, but she continued. "Loved Tony! When I was being treated like a piece of meat. What's fair about that?" Vieve's eyes were filled with tears. "I don't care about anyone from your past. Katie is more than enough competition!" She spit her words out through clenched teeth and blinked hard to keep the tears away as their train approached. She was furious, hurt and filled with adrenaline—ready to fight or run.

Their train stopped and the doors of a car opened. As they entered the car Tony found two seats to the left, but Vieve turned to the right. There were plenty of seats available, but Vieve chose an aisle seat next to a man. She didn't want Tony anywhere near her.

Tony turned to the right and sat down, facing Vieve, cat-a corner, so he could watch her. She refused eye contact with him. Tony hated the way he felt. Worse, he had made the woman he loved upset. He needed to talk to her, but she was fuming.

At the next stop, no one exited and a lot of people entered, including an elderly woman with a shopping bag. Vieve heard Tony say, "Here Miss. Please take my seat."

Without looking up she knew Tony had given his seat to the elderly lady. _Even when he acts like a jerk at least he's still kind_ , she thought. _Why do I always feel so generous towards him? He's nothing like Jim. He encourages me to have my own thoughts and feelings. He's wrong about this though_ , she thought. _If he's going to be like this, we may as well end it now._ The guy in the window seat next to her exited and Vieve scooted across the bench to look out the window. The scent of Tony drifted down to her and she felt a knee on the seat. His hand touched her shoulder. She ignored it and continued to look out the window. The elderly woman gave Tony a tulip from a bouquet of flowers in her shopping bag and gestured for him to give it to her. Tony pushed his knee back on the seat next to Vieve and dropped one red petal in her lap. She looked down and refused to look up at this man who she was trying to remain angry with.

"She loves me," he whispered. Another red petal fell in her lap. "She loves me not," Tony's voice said. Another petal. "She loves me. She loves me not. She loves me. She loves me not."

Vieve considered that she was angry and rightfully so. She had not lost her voice or her ability to remain authentically herself. She never felt desperate in her relationship with Tony. The ball was in his court. She was pleased to realize that she was not influenced in these feelings by her years with Jim. Vieve's feelings were her own.

The bare stem followed the petals in her lap. It was over. She loves me not, echoed in her mind. Vieve heard Tony sigh and felt his weight shift away from her. Tony turned around as if to walk away, but Vieve grabbed his sleeve.

"She loves him," Vieve said, looking up into his face. _I don't want to live without him_ , she thought. "My God! Do I trust you enough to give you this power over me?" she whispered.

"Never that, babe. I only want the power to protect you."

"When you love someone, you give them the power to break your heart," she ventured.

"I'm sorry, honey," he said as he sat down. When he risked an arm around her shoulder she neither pulled away nor shrugged him off. "I'm a little surprised that I felt such jealousy towards Elliot."

A tear trickled down her cheek. She turned her head towards the window to quickly wipe it away. She sniffed and said, "I hope you realize that I would never keep secrets from you."

Tony nodded. "I do. Aw, Vieve, babe, I should have been there for you. Instead of coming from unconditional love for you, I was coming from unsubstantiated jealousy. Johnny sure had a lot to say about Elliot, and the girls were pulling me to see a painting they loved. Guys don't do feelings well and we don't multi-task. It was my mistake entirely. You were perfect. Honest and open. You included me. You spoke up and because of the way I acted you were getting ready to protect yourself. Babe, I never want to make you feel like you have to protect yourself from me."

_I really don't want to live without him_ , she thought. "Apology accepted," Vieve said, "thank you." She closed her eyes and their shoulders touched. He made that funny little hum and kissed her hair gently. Some of the people near them smiled at the happy ending.

The couple reached their stop and walked off, holding hands.

"Is there anything else I can do to make up for this?" he asked.

"I need you to kiss me." She tapped her cheek.

He kissed her cheek and then said, "Thanks for your beautiful, forgiving nature. I need an early night. We'll go out next week. You've been wanting Thai food. And we'll go to the top of the Empire State Building. You can't be a real New Yorker until you've been up there. Okay?"

"I'd like that." Vieve was happier. They walked to her apartment. It was still early. "I wondered if love would ever come for me again. Because of loving you I feel," she searched for words, "blessed. And with that love comes a strong physical attraction to you. I don't want to leave you. Do you feel that way?"

"I haven't wanted to leave you since I first laid eyes on you. I miss you very much when we're apart. I think some of what just happened today is sexual tension and frustration," Tony said.

She nodded. "I don't want to wait."

He smiled. "You're trying to tell me that you want to become physical with me?" he asked softly.

She looked straight into his face. "Everything I have works. Does everything you have work?"

Tony chuckled and nodded. They walked in silence for another block.

She watched his face carefully. "So?" she asked. She needed conversation, not silence.

"Well, we have some decisions to make," he said as he looked at her chest, "Sorry, uh, just the thought of sex is confusing, you're right." He winced.

She brightened and unlocked her door, kissed him with renewed passion, stepped inside, said, "Goodnight," and let the door shut.

Tony watched the door as it closed. He heard the lock click, a sound of metal hitting metal. He watched her vanish up the steps. To him, this door was the barrier, like her boundaries that she had placed between them. Now she was telling him that she wanted the door to permanently open for him. Could he manage it? He didn't understand why he felt such resistance.

Tony saw the light on in the restaurant so he walked over to Salud! Joe was behind the bar, and there were several patrons, finishing their meals. Joe could see that his son had a lot on his mind by the way Tony shuffled into the restaurant. Joe had already heard about Elliot from Johnny. Tony sat down at the bar.

Joe put out two glasses and found a bottle of Jamison. He looked at Tony, "Trouble in Paradise?

Tony just massaged his temples. After some thought he said, "Aw Pop. Vieve is great. Isn't she?"

Joe handed a glass to Tony, and then poured one for himself. "Yes, she is, son," he said.

Tony sat down at the bar. "We've been really good together. We've resolved some conflicts and talked through other issues. It's a very intense relationship, hard for me to describe. But I always figured that anyone I ended up with, well, we'd be intimate by now."

"It's not because she doesn't love you," Joe said. "Have you talked to her about it?"

Tony nodded and said, "Yeah. She said sex is so intense that it confuses her if there are no assurances given regarding the relationship." Tony's whole body slumped and then he laughed. "But I get that. I've been worried that maybe she's lousy in bed. I dunno. I don't even care," Tony said. "She's teachable. She just needs to feel protected and loved."

Joe had come around to the front of the bar and sat next to his son. "So, what are you gonna do?"

Tony stretched and looked up at the ceiling. He inhaled twice and relaxed as the answer finally occurred to him. He let the thoughts mingle in his mind and he took a deep breath, filled his lungs with air and his cells with oxygen. "I'm going to take her house hunting," he downed his drink. "Thanks Pop."

Chapter 59 - House Hunting

"Most of us have two lives. The life we

live, and the unlived life within us.

Between the two stands Resistance."

Steven Pressfield,

(1943 -)

The War of Art

American author

TWO days later the real estate sales agent opened the door to the brownstone and showed Tony and Vieve the place. Vieve was unusually quiet as she walked through the empty residence. She had also been quiet about the other two houses they looked at. The agent quickly surmised that it was Vieve who had to be sold, so when Vieve walked back down to the living room, the agent followed her.

As they talked, Tony jumped down the interior steps of the empty brownstone like a kid. He smacked his hands together and rubbed his palms against his jeans to get the dust off. To see the man she loved be overjoyed made Vieve smile. She always got a kick out of witnessing his responses to things.

"I'll leave you two to discuss it," the agent said, opening her cell phone and walking outside.

"Well, whaddaya think?" he asked Vieve as she walked around the empty living room. "Do you wanna walk through again? I really like this one."

She wanted to put her face into her hands and shake her head because it was true. Out of the brownstones they'd seen, this was very obviously his favorite. It showed in the animated way he spoke and the joyful way he moved around the rooms.

"I know we'll need another full bath upstairs. Maybe that space in the landing could become the Master bathroom. But what would you do with the windows here?" He walked to the large front bay window with his hands held together behind him, feigning interest in decorating.

"Tell me why you really want to live here," she asked.

"When I was growing up it belonged to the Michael family. I always liked coming over here, watching television with Calvin Michael." He pointed to where the television sat. "I played chess with him and his Dad, here." He showed her where the table and chairs had been. He grinned—he was full of himself.

Vieve couldn't stop considering the mess. Plaster had fallen from the wall in the dining room, exposing lathe underneath. "Tony, the rooms are very large. But, there is so much work here," her sigh was heavy. She remembered the house in Denver and how hard she and Jim worked on it. She walked into the kitchen and sighed again. It was a disaster. There were no appliances; the solitary wall cabinet had one large door that dangled lopsidedly from a hinge. Exposed sub floor gaped through badly worn linoleum that should have been replaced decades ago. Two windowpanes were cracked; one window was missing and had been planked over with an orange "Men Working" sign, hung sideways. An ancient, chipped cast iron sink sat on the floor. Old cast iron plumbing pipes were exposed behind a wall where plaster had disintegrated and lathe had been broken. Vieve grimaced at the idea of all the time and money involved to make just the kitchen workable. It was a warm September day, but she shivered and shook off a chill.

"We can get it for a song! With my schedule I could work on the place. That's like money in the bank," he said. "It would be good for Vincent, too. Keep him busy learning construction skills and being part of a family project. But, we will need your design ideas."

Vieve sighed and forced herself to speak. "If the Borough would allow it, you could add on a family room that opened to the backyard, which could become a garden. You and the kids would get a lot of use out of a room like that. Then when visitors came in they would always see a presentable Living and Dining Room," she said, playing along. She remained detached, not letting herself really believe that she would have any future involvement. Effort was required to remain positive and tactful.

She stared at the state of the kitchen, shook her face in her hands again, took a deep breath and turned to walk up the steps. He followed her and bit his lip as he watched her round, supple bottom wiggle up each step. He tried to look away but he couldn't. She walked to the back window. "The two back bedrooms could open to a deck over the addition. It would be beautiful from up here."

When she walked around the master bedroom again, he caught her waist and looked into her eyes. "I love this place. I just want you to love it too. I figured I'd have a better chance with this woman if I had a new place with a new bedroom set where we could make new memories."

"With this woman?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he pulled her closer and looked into her eyes. "I met this woman who I'm crazy about. She said she's ready to become intimate."

She asked, "What about the kids?"

"The girls could each have their own room. They'll like that."

"Oh," she said coolly. "And your folks?" She made a circle with her thumb and forefinger to pinch a bit of peeling wallpaper off the wall and let it drop to the floor.

"They talk about moving to Florida in the next couple of years, if they can bear being away from the grandkids. Maybe they'll become snowbirds. Johnny will take over the restaurant when they retire. But having family close now is great. We'll arrange for the kids to be gone each month so we can really focus on each other." He put his hands around her waist. "This is a good decision since we're thinking in terms of us really being a couple. If we bought this place we need to discuss financial details. But, we'd have the deed in both our names. I need you to design and decorate and keep me from making big, costly mistakes. I've never taken on a project this big. You have. If we include the kids it could be a venture that will bring all of us closer together."

She moved away from him and tried not to appear annoyed. She tried not to sigh, but she did. Instead of measuring rooms or windows as Tony half-expected, Vieve walked slowly across the room to the front window. She folded her arms and looked outside but didn't seem particularly interested in anything she saw.

Tony kept talking. "If we are in this together we need to share everything. Please, babe, tell me if you agree?"

She was silent. She checked in with her emotional state so she could make a decision based on her true authentic self and not be swayed by fear, bad memories, or even Tony's desires. She thought about how she had actually enjoyed remodeling the house in Denver, and that it had been Jim who was full of negative anxiety concerning the project. She wondered if it might be Jim's voice, echoing in her head now. The Denver house had been almost this bad and it became a showcase in just over a year.

Tony continued to talk. "Of course, I've got to live in Columbia Heights. You know: My job. And it's an easy commute to Manhattan. That's where that particular woman works. The one I'm so crazy about. What do you think? What color should this room be?"

"Tony, do you want decorating advice or are you asking me to move in with you?"

"Ooh. Living together. I love that idea!" He grinned and his eyes twinkled.

She did not join him in his glee but managed a small smirk. How was she going to tell him that there was no way she was going to live with him, raise his three kids and fix up this wreck of a house? No matter how much she loved him. She could still walk away. Probably. Possibly. Most likely. He was, after all, the love of her life.

He accepted her expression with hope.

Hope is such a wonderful thing. It's what keeps a romance going long enough to make a commitment to one another. Hope keeps every person involved in the day-to-day tedium of living and helps people like Vieve and Gemma break free from bad situations. Hope allows mere mortals to look forward to unknown delights, unseen accomplishments and recognize soft, gentle whispers of opportunity. Hope was all that Tony DeLuca needed now.

Hope encouraged him to lock her glance into his as he walked towards her and asked, "What would it take to get you to do this?"

Vieve pulled away from his eyes. He knew she wanted him, body and soul. She walked to the windowsill, put her hands on her heart and closed her eyes. With two deep, slow breaths she felt centered and authentic. She could be entirely honest about what she was and wasn't prepared to do, and he would listen. When she turned around to answer him he had dropped to one knee. He held out an upturned palm with an open box that held an engagement ring.

"Marry me?" he asked.

Genevieve Sloan's heart and doubts and inhibitions completely melted. She ran to him. "Absolutely!" she cried and kissed him all over his face.

He stood up and spun her around and around and they laughed and couldn't stop smiling. He told her that it was about time they made wild, erotic love and shared every aspect of their lives. Later, he told Joe and Rosemary that Vieve had made him the happiest man on earth, and when he'd lost Katie, he wondered if he could ever be happy again. He told his kids that he would always love their Mother, and that even Vieve understood that his love for Katie would last his lifetime. He said that it was time for all of them to make a good life together.

The next day they bought the house and invited the kids to see it. Brielle and Vincent picked out the two bedrooms in the back and Sophia was thrilled to have her own room, though small, in the front, across from her Daddy's bedroom. Everyone was excited and friends and family swarmed the house to make it livable before the wedding.

The wedding would be in two months. Tony called in favors. The crew helped him on their days off. He hired a plumber. He was a happy, happy man. The house became livable, though far from finished, and Vieve saw firsthand how working through a project with love was entirely blissful.

Joe insisted that the restaurant be closed for the wedding reception and posted a sign: "Salud! Will be Closed for Tony's and Vieve's Wedding" and advertised the date on the door. He and Marie wanted to cook for this event, with specialties and delicacies and really fine food. Johnny and Yolanda bought a case of French Brut champagne because Johnny, who was the best man, told Tony that he planned to make a lot of toasts. The next day Vieve designed wedding invitations and put them in the mail. She asked Kelly to be her maid of honor. In the next two days she called her folks, her sister, Peter, Charlie and Delores Henderson. She left a voice mail for Sammy, but Peter said he was out of the country, traveling to who knows where and returning who knew when.

Chapter 60 - Tantra

"All really great lovers are articulate,

and verbal seduction is the surest

road to actual seduction."

Marya Mannes (1904 – 1990)

American author and satirist

NEW house keys jingled in Tony's fingers and Vieve looked around to see if the neighbors saw him caressing her bottom. The sun had set. This side street was dark. No one could see him, and neither of them really cared if they were seen. The door opened and Vieve walked inside, dropped her purse and draped her suit jacket on the table. She felt Tony's arms around her and she shook the confusion from her head, trying to think clearly. Tony's presence interrupted her thoughts. Her mind told her body to be tense now: Prepare yourself, it directed. This is a new man, it whispered. Covering her mouth with his, the intensity of his kisses made her knees and ankles weak. Vieve felt Tony start to unbutton the tiny buttons on the front of her blue strapless camisole. Her camisole loosened, exposing cleavage and white lace.

He mumbled as he nuzzled her neck, unbuttoned the rest of the 28 buttons and slid the back of his hand down the exposed area of her breasts. "You are so beautiful," he said.

She moaned, arched her back and threw her head backwards. He thought she trembled. She made a little whoop! sound when he threw her over his shoulder firefighter style. He playfully patted her bottom as he carried her upstairs.

"I've been waiting a long time for this. We've got a bed of our own now to make new memories. Hell! I even put the sheets on myself," he said hungrily.

The master bedroom was located in the front of the house, upstairs. The room had been dry walled and a coat of primer was on one of the walls. The new master bathroom was far from complete, but a very large two-person Jacuzzi slipper tub had been installed in the bay window area of the bedroom. The new King-sized bed was made and pillows, candles and two of Vieve's Himalayan salt lamps were scattered around the large room.

Tony took off his suit coat and pulled his tie from his collar. Then his shirt fell to the floor in the Master bedroom. Then her skirt, his trousers, their shoes, her slip. She was grateful that the girls at work had a Victoria's Secret shower for her.

"I wore white for you," she whispered and stepped back so he could enjoy the view of her clad in a very sexy strapless bra, garter stockings and a thong.

He looked at her like a starving man looks at a feast. He held up the covers and she glided into the bed. Arms outstretched, she reached for him. He slid next to her and kissed the base of her throat and her earlobes. She touched his cheek and pulled his face to her face. Breathing was faster, heartbeats raced.

"How's this?" he mumbled softly as he kissed her neck. He moved his hands under the sheets.

She responded positively with soft moans. Then she said, "Oh Tony. Oh God, Tony!" she made a whimpery sound. He continued to kiss her neck and touch intimate areas of her body as she responded to him. "I don't want to," she interrupted.

"What, babe?" he asked in the dimly lit room.

"Not already." She stopped him. "Tony, I can have an orgasm just so easily."

He thought about how her response might be like a man who has a premature ejaculation, or perhaps she was just used to getting things over and done with. Or maybe she was only used to one kind of sensation. Whatever the reason, it was important that they have their own, shared, genuine experience. He wanted no intimate memories of past experiences pressing in on them. He whispered, "Give me a minute," and left the bed. A small ceramic pot had been plugged in and was half filled with water, and he put a jar of coconut oil in to warm it. He set that on top of his nightstand. He opened the drawer and found some matches and lit a few ginger scented candles, also on his nightstand, then walked to her side of the bed and lit three more. As he did this he spoke very gently to her.

"Let's just take things slow," he said. "I don't want either of us to be stressed or have any expectations. Making love is a full mind/body experience; it is empowering, healing and awakening and it is a celebration that I'm a man and you're a woman and we are committed to each other."

There were more candles on the dresser at the far end of the room, and he walked to light them. He spoke as he moved around the room. "I've read the text of the Kama Sutra and I think I have an elementary grasp on Tantra thanks to Kenneth's workshop. The ways that emotional, physical, and psychological healing takes place is because there are acupressure points that are located in the body and aren't accessed, except during love making or deliberate massage. When those points are touched properly, they release tension, then blood flows and in this way past trauma can be healed. We'll just relax into our new bed and our new life and discover our own experience." He turned on the Himalayan salt lamp globe.

"My God, you are so beautiful," he whispered. He asked her if she was comfortable if he removed his briefs and she nodded.

He came back to bed and poured oil into his hands, then he took her left arm and slowly began massaging from her fingertips to her shoulder and back again. "Just relax, babe. We'll take this slow and easy." He stretched the palm of her hand and pressed lightly on her fingertips. "You love the finger stretch."

"I do," she whispered.

Then he stretched her arm over her head and continued the long, slippery gliding of his large hands over her arm. He supported her arm while he slowly jiggled the joint at her shoulder and then gently placed her arm on a pillow. He repeated this to the other arm. Then, moving behind her he massaged her shoulders and neck. Looking into each other's eyes was important, in order to truly bond and really make a connection, so he positioned himself carefully so this would be achieved.

He still felt her tension, so he nuzzled her neck from behind her and whispered. "I'm just going to hold you now, so lean your back into me." He continued to lead her, "Let's breathe together in and out slowly and feel our tension melting. Inhale a new breath slowly, two, three, four, five, six, exhale the tension, two, three, four, five, six." After ten measured breaths he spoke softly, "I'm going to start massaging your décolleté soon, so let's continue breathing." He spoke gently and slowly, almost guiding her as in a meditation. "Be aware of the candles and the salt lamps, the fragrance of the coconut oil and ginger in the room and think about being open to receiving. Just let it float to you." By the eleventh breath he could feel her body relax.

When he began to massage her neck and shoulders she finally started to truly, authentically, enjoy this. He laid her back against the pillows and asked her if she was comfortable.

"Yes, darling," she whispered.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Safe."

_Good word, good feeling_ , he thought. He kissed her mouth, ever so gently at first, and let the kisses build until he moved to her earlobes and began kissing her face. "You have a beautiful mouth," he said softly. "I love the way your lips have gotten a little swollen. Gently stroke the tip of your tongue on the roof of your mouth. Does it tickle?"

She tried it and nodded. "Um hmm."

"You're starting to get aroused."

"I really want you Tony."

"We have all night," his hushed, deliberate voice said. "The goal is to relax, so tell me if the pressure is too much." He whispered, "Let me massage your legs now, to help you relax them. Don't do anything, just let the tension go. Let your body be limp." When she began to slide her stockings off he said. "Oh, let me do that, please. I've been wanting to undress your gorgeous legs for a very long time."

He sat cross-legged between her legs, and slowly rolled each stocking down her leg. The long areas of her legs were massaged with long strokes, her knees and feet were given circular motions. He stretched her feet and toes as he had stretched her fingers. He could watch her face and the way she relaxed was pleasing to him. Her total relaxation was like a soft symphony, played in a safe environment. An environment where she trusted him, depended on him and cared for him. He regularly and respectfully asked her how certain new touches felt. If she enjoyed them, with each stroke he gently added a little more pressure to release specific tensions from acupressure spots that were filled with negative trauma. If he felt a knot or a thready bump, he massaged it until the area was smoothed and relaxed.

He sat up on his knees and stretched himself over her, letting his hands move slowly up on the sides of her body, then her upper arms and over to her finger tips. He stretched her arms across the bed as his body became parallel to hers, lowering himself over her, almost like a push-up. During the movement, he tried to breathe in as she breathed out, as if they were sharing one breath. He did this again and again, very rhythmically.

"I love that Tony," she said softly. It was as if his body was pumping the tension out of her. She reached for his face with her hands and tugged on his lower lip with her mouth. She spoke to him with appreciation for his body. Vieve caressed him and spoke of the love and desire she had for him.

Tony knew that Vieve needed to surrender her mind and body to the process. To achieve that state required him to make it easy for her to let go of all inhibitions and connect with him. He helped her to continue to focus on the present moment and on him. The lovers allowed any thoughts that came into their minds to just drift away. He kept her attention to the connection and closeness of their two bodies and the sensations that were happening within. He continued to look into her eyes and their emotional connection became deeper. They whispered their needs and desires to each other.

He knew that this was a course of action, of release and letting go, so he was not surprised that the process became a little overwhelming for Vieve. After twenty minutes, she was very open to more direct touch and he told her that negative energy was being released from her whole body. He chuckled, "You are behaving exactly like I hoped you would," he whispered. She was flushed and her lips were very full. Her pupils were dilated and he thought of her as an ocean of fluid emotions with wave after wave crashing on the shore.

"Oh my God. You're wonderful. The last thing I wanted was to slow things down, but you are perfect," she moaned.

Tony placed his relaxed hands on her belly, just to be present with her like this, with appreciation for all the love and creativity that was inside her. Within a few minutes she began to laugh. It was the signal that all her energy was flowing.

Tony wanted no distortions of the love making experience between himself and Vieve. Women like Vieve had learned sex by techniques that gave away her unique feminine power.

"Everything I have really, really works!" Vieve moaned.

They experimented with the gift of craving and satisfying desires and murmured their wishes. "I can't—catch—my—breath, Tony," she panted. "My God!" she exclaimed with passion.

"Vieve! Yes!" Tony gulped air.

"I truly love sex! It is my favorite thing!" Vieve fell back into the bed and looked at the ceiling. Her head was cradled in her down pillow. The moonlight caressed her face. She glistened with perspiration and smelled of coconut oil.

Laughing, Tony dove into the pillow with her. He rolled to his side, propped himself up on one arm, and with his other hand his fingers lightly stroked her face and neck. "Italian American men make love," he whispered. "We don't have sex."

"Of course," she said softly, accepting the improvement. She moaned again, "You are a phenomenal lover Tony. All the kissing and cuddling and the way you kept talking to me."

"Mm. I'm so relaxed."

"I feel really fulfilled," she said and snuggled into his chest.

"This was just the first time," Tony said. "Love making is going to get better. We are amazing together. I love you Vieve."

A creamy bright moon illuminated the royal blue sky. A narrow band of deep maroon northern lights danced across the sky like undulating draperies. Open windows welcomed a fresh breeze.

Some nights are filled with sensuality and love. This night smiled on the lovers.

Chapter 61 - Soul Mates

"The real act of marriage takes place

in the heart, not in the ballroom or church or

synagogue. It's a choice you make – not just on

your wedding day, but over and over again

– and that choice is reflected in the way

you treat your husband or wife."

Barbara De Angelis (1951—)

American relationship consultant,

lecturer and author, TV personality,

relationship, personal growth

adviser and spiritual teacher.

THE next morning, she woke up when he set a tray with hard-boiled eggs, slices of whole-wheat toast, fresh strawberries, bottled water and cinnamon coffee latté. "Oh Tony, thank you," she said.

"You couldn't make breakfast. We don't have any window shades downstairs, and I just don't want you to get dressed yet." He gently touched her lips with his fingers, then he took a small bite of strawberry and rubbed the bitten end around her mouth. "A woman's lips are like her Yoni." He touched the little cleft just above her top lip, and said, "This area will become more sensitive because we'll get better at this," as he continued to tickle the area lightly with his little finger.

He bent his arm and settled his head in the palm of his hand. He propped himself up to look at her while she sipped coffee and nibbled the food. He chuckled, "At times I thought our relationship was just going to be platonic with some very intense moments of unfulfilled passion. It was worth the wait!" He leaned back into the pillow and sighed.

"I've never, ever felt this way," she whispered.

"I want you to feel honored and loved and very cherished," Tony said as he played with a strand of her hair.

"Oh, I do," she said. "I always do when I'm with you, darling."

"He leaned up on one elbow. "I love that I have that effect on you. And everything about you is very soft."

"You know how the right person appears in your life when you are ready to learn a lesson from them? I realize now that I learned a lot from Eleanor that prepared me for being married to you. This morning I just want to soak with you in our new tub, and then I want to give you a beautiful massage like you did with me last night." She paused, then asked, "do you think we're soul mates?"

"I think we 'get' each other," he said.

"I overheard Mrs. McPherson at the reception tell someone that Katie was your one true love and that you'd never love me like you loved Katie."

He sighed. "Katie was my childhood sweetheart. She died, and I've accepted that and gave myself time to emotionally let go of life with her. I loved her with the feelings of my youth. You are my love now. We enjoy being with each other more than being with anyone else. Now, we've connected better than I ever imagined two people could connect. I love you more than I thought I could love a woman. I'm a better person because of you. My feelings for you are mature, settled and very deep. You are my forever love. If this describes a soul mate, then we are." Tony took a deep breath. He rolled on his back and stroked her arms as she snuggled up to him. They continued to look into each other's eyes.

"Mmm," Vieve was immensely happy. "It's as if heaven itself shined on us. We both experienced the worst kind of heartbreak anyone can imagine. When we were healed, we found each other. I loved you and your family early on."

He lifted his brows in an expression that seemed to say _imagine that_. He kissed her forehead and whispered, "From the beginning, I knew that you are vital to my happiness."

Chapter 62 - Slipper Tub

"Being deeply loved by someone gives

you strength, while loving someone

deeply gives you courage."

Lao Tzu or Laozi (605 BCE – 531 BCE)

Chinese philosopher and writer

TONY and Vieve soaked in their new oversized Jacuzzi tub. It was a cast iron slipper tub, with chrome legs—charcoal gray on the outside, white inside.

Vieve had her head on a bath pillow and her eyes were closed. Her hair was piled up with a couple of pins. "You're looking at me," she said to her man who was at the other end.

"Yeah."

"I can feel your eyes on me," she said, eyes still unopened.

"Yeah," he smiled. "I'm looking forward to the massage you promised."

"Mm hm," she said, eyes still closed. She heard water splashing. He held on to the sides of the tub and lowered himself over her as if he was doing a push up and she was the floor. He scooted up her body and lightly kissed her hair. Then he raised himself and got out. "It makes such sense."

"What?" she said as she sat up.

"I love this," he pulled her out of the tub. "I love that we fell head over heels in love with each other."

"Yeah," she said. "Because you are authentic. There is no nonsense with you. Commitment without games and no confusion."

Chapter 63 - Sam

"A caress is better than a career."

Elisabeth Marbury (1856 – 1933)

American theatrical agent

SAM knocked on the door of the Columbia Heights brownstone and rechecked the text message with the house number. "Kelly's text said this was Mom's new address." He grimaced at Lynette and rang the doorbell again and then again. He looked at his cell phone for the time: 11:23 AM. They heard the heavy thud of bare feet running down the stairs.

Tony opened the door and he scratched his head. Gray jogging pants were twisted on his waist. He pulled a white V-necked tee shirt on. "Yeah?" Tony squinted at Sam and Lynette and rubbed his left eye. "Can I help you?" Tony asked. He wondered who these two strange-looking young people could be. Sam's head was shaved and he had a stud piercing one eyebrow and half of each fingernail had a stripe of blue nail enamel. The girl had spiked hair that was magenta, green and orange and wore the blue stripe of nail enamel also. She was obviously pregnant.

"Who is it, darling?" Vieve called from upstairs. Sam saw her bare feet and legs descend the steps as she continued speaking. "Is it the rest of the furniture?"

Sam's mouth dropped open. "Mom?" Sam yelled. He pushed passed Tony and burst into the house. Lynette was right behind him. He dropped his duffle bag. "Oh my God Mom! What did you do?" He glared at Tony, stood in front of the man and made himself as big as he could. "After what you told me—oh God," he ranted. His voice was filled with anxiety and panic. He started to hyperventilate. Tony moved Sam towards a chair.

"Slow it down, son," Tony said. "Come on, take very slow breaths."

"Hi, honey," Vieve tried not to frown as she retucked and retied her robe and fumbled over her disheveled appearance at this time in the morning. "Come in. Sit down," she said to Lynette. Sam sat down hard and pouted. She and Tony positioned themselves on the sofa across from Sam. Lynette stood behind him and placed her hand on Sam's shoulder. Vieve smiled at him the way Mothers smile at their children and said, "I wasn't expecting you."

"That's obvious," Sam interrupted as he regained enough of his composure to speak.

"I told you we should call first," Lynette whispered.

Sam's fingers tapped against his folded arms. He frowned and looked at Vieve in her robe and then threw looks as cutting as daggers at Tony. If the guy hadn't been such a large man, Sam would have fought him. This was his mother, not some skank. "I can't believe it. I am immensely disappointed." He again considered swinging at Tony.

Tony sighed, grabbed Vieve's left hand and held it up. Vieve wiggled her third finger. The diamonds in the white gold ring and her eyes sparkled. Tony extended his hand to Sam. "My name is Tony DeLuca. Your Mom and I got married on Friday."

Sam jumped up. "Married?" Waving arms wildly he stomped around the room. "This is crazy Mom! This is like something I would do."

"Gee. They're on their honeymoon." Lynette ventured.

"Yeah," Tony said grinning. He scratched the back of his neck. He was barefoot, sleepy, and unshaven and his curly brown hair stuck out and up every which way.

"How long are you going to be in town?" Vieve asked as she patted Tony's knee.

"Until the day after tomorrow," Sam said.

"And where are you staying?"

"Uh. We were hoping we could crash here?" Sam asked. "We brought sleeping bags." He pointed to the bundle on the floor.

Tony cleared his throat.

"I know," Sam mumbled. "Separate bedrooms. Geez. I can't even get used to my Mom being Vieve Sloan and now it's Vieve De L--."

"DeLuca," Vieve carefully pronounced. "Tony suggested I keep 'Sloan.' But I really wanted to change my name to his."

"Just keep calling her 'Mom,'" Tony said, fixing the problem.

"Yeah," Lynette said. "Let's just park our stuff and go to Times Square. Then we'll come back later."

"You can keep your things in the bay window over there," Tony pointed while he winked at his wife. Buckets of primer and drop cloths were near the window. Wallpaper sample books lined the dining room table.

Vieve and Tony sat close together on the sofa and Vieve held her robe closed with both hands. She asked, "So we'll see you later?" too cheerfully.

Sam and Lynette dumped the rest of their bundles. "I'm astonished," Sam said to Lynette as they got ready to leave. "I'll text you when we decide to come back," Sam said to his Mom. He certainly didn't want any more surprises. He pecked his Mom's cheek and Lynette hugged Vieve.

"Great! We'll supply supper so please be back by seven," Tony said as he and Vieve rose. "We'll catch up then. And we'll show you the video of the wedding."

"We couldn't find you to invite you to the wedding," Vieve said. "Where were you? No one knew how to contact you?"

"Bangkok and Chiang Mai, mostly," Sammy said.

"Thailand?" Vieve was astonished.

Sammy and Lynette nodded. Lynette said, "We just got back in the country and Sammy wanted so much to see you. So, this was our first stop."

"In a few months, your Mom and I are going to go on a real honeymoon. We've just gotta get this place more finished before winter really sets in," Tony said looking around the room. "I'd like to hear about your trip. We haven't decided on a destination."

Tony escorted them to the door. Once Sammy and Lynette were outside Tony turned to Vieve. He smiled and walked to the stairwell. She followed and patted his bottom.

"Does Sam like Fettuccine Alfredo?" he asked as he ascended the stairs.

"He loves it. This was so unexpected." She blushed. They entered the bedroom.

Tony chuckled, "The look on his face—Who's that guy rollin' around with Mom?" He snickered as he disappeared in the closet. Tony was still laughing as he came out with clothes and tossed them on a chair. "I'm gonna grab a shower and shave." He felt the scratchy areas of his neck. "Come on, take a shower with me." He pulled her towards the bathroom.

"I can't believe he shaved his head," she said, getting up, letting him lead her. "Tony, I'm going to be a grandmother."

"Yup."

Chapter 64 - Safe!

"Let the wife make the husband glad

to come home, and let him

make her sorry to see him leave."

Martin Luther (1483 – 1546)

German professor of theology,

composer, priest, monk

and a seminal figure in

the Protestant Reformation

WHEN they were viewing the video of their wedding with Sammy and Lynette that night, Tony, on-screen, introduced Gemma and her children, and her plus one, Maurice Ricks, to Charlie and Delores Henderson. While the video was focused on the Bride and Groom, the Henderson's chatted with Gemma and Maurice for quite a while in the background. It was clear that they didn't recognize her as Ruby. If they did, they didn't give her away. Gemma's transformation was complete and her new identity was fully intact. Different hair, svelte body, changed speech, different names had all worked. Her self-induced witness protection program was intact. She and her children were unrecognizable. No longer The Washington's, beautiful, but petrified, like the icy architecture of a frozen waterfall. Vieve made a mental note to bring this to Gemma's attention. This would comfort Gemma. She could relax, warming up in the sunshine of her safety, and finally thaw.

"We had Judge Esposito perform the ceremony at the restaurant," Tony explained to Sammy and Lynette. "We were more comfortable with this than a church wedding."

"Did you give up on Catholicism?" Sammy asked.

"We haven't given up on God," Vieve said.

"We're exploring our options," Tony replied.

Chapter 65 - Cellulite

"A real man loves his wife,

and places his family as the

most important thing in life."

Frank Abagnale, Jr. (1948 –)

American security consultant

known for his history as a former

confidence trickster, check forger,

and impostor between the

ages of 15 and 21

A FEW days later Vieve heard Tony come up the steps. His soft shuffle down the hall meant he was checking on the kids before he came to bed. The master bedroom was dark and she had been asleep. He was very, very quiet as he got undressed and gently climbed in bed. When she rolled over, the covers moved, and he undid the knot that held up her sarong. Eleanor told her there was no better cover up. Eleanor lived in sarongs when she was at home. Always the guy, Tony said there was nothing sexier because the sarong slid right off so easily.

When she sat up to adjust the pillow, the sarong fell to her waist. His eyes appreciated her in the moonlight that streamed in the windows. He leaned into her and made that smoodgy little hum and kissed her mouth.

She smiled her amazing smile, stretched and said, "Hello, darling. Kids okay?"

"Yeah. Sam and Lynette left and you spent your first days with my kids."

She nodded. "How was the retirement party?"

"Great. Ralph's gonna miss the FDNY," he said as he moved to the chair and rubbed his foot. "Alex burned lunch again yesterday. Sorry I'm late. Did Vincent give you the message? Mario Gonzalez' wife was in labor. It's a boy. 9 pounds, 2 ounces. Amato Paco Salbatore Gonzalez. I had to run down to the hospital before I came home. The labor was so fast she almost had the baby in the cab."

"I'll visit tomorrow with a gift. I heard a siren. "

"Yeah. An old lady and her cat. Kitchen fire. She put some soup on and then fell asleep. Soup boiled away and the cabinets above caught on fire. Alex had to give oxygen to the cat. They'll both be fine. And a car caught fire on the bridge, but by the time we got there it was out. The driver had an extinguisher. No danger." He stopped for a moment and said, "Sammy is very high strung. He pouts a lot. Is that the way Jim was?"

"I think that a lot of guys just pout when they don't get their way or don't understand the full picture." She spoke as Tony slid on top of the bedspread and kissed her neck. Tony chuckled at her comment.

"Please keep the lights off," Vieve requested.

"Why?"

"I noticed cellulite on my thighs."

"I'm in bed with a beautiful, soon to be naked woman. I am nothing but grateful. I love your thighs. I can show them gratitude, just as they are." He picked up the covers and began to talk with appreciation to her legs.

Vieve giggled at him. Her cell phone rang twice. "It's after ten. Who would be calling?" She looked at the caller ID. "My Mother," she said and rolled her eyes. She swiped to answer and said "Mom!" as she sat straight up. Tony stretched, yawned and went to the unfinished bathroom to weigh himself. He heard her speaking.

"Well, we both had big weddings the first time and we didn't want a fuss. That is what happens when you get married. You have a ceremony and during the reception you leave. If you wanted to get to know Tony don't you think you should have come a day or two early? No! I've known him for a year and one-half. Now Mother," she pronounced the word as MOTH-er! Tony knew Marie was pushing too hard. Vieve continued, "You told me you didn't want to be a part of my life after I left Ohio. Shall we talk about that?" Vieve was annoyed. She rubbed her temples. Tony came back in, checked to make sure the bedroom door was locked, and climbed under the covers. He could hear Marie.

Marie said, "What were you thinking? He's quite a bit younger than you are."

Vieve said nothing.

Marie said, "So exactly what does he see in you?"

"He married me for my money," Vieve said sarcastically.

Tony motioned with his fingers for the phone. That was it. Vieve was his wife now. Marie crossed his line of tolerance. Tony motioned again for the phone. Vieve shook her head but he was insistent so she gave him the phone.

"Hello Marie?" he began. "It is very nice to talk to you again. Oh, Vieve couldn't talk anymore so I took the phone." He paused, which gave his voice a moment to warm towards her. "What did you hear? Seven or eight years? I heard twelve and then I heard sixteen years. Can you imagine? And she looks so fabulous!" He started laughing. "So now Vieve and I have something in common with Bart Freunlich and Julianne Moore, Antonio Banderas and Melanie Griffith (oh, they split? Didn't they--aww), and Hugh Jackman and Deborah Lee-Furness. Hah! There's lots of us. Yeah, we see Hugh walking around the city with his kids every once in a while. Vieve is a fascinating woman and I'll bet she gets that from you. Perpetually twenty-nine, are you?" He winked at Vieve. "See. I knew it! A young frame of mind, youthful outlook and great sense of humor run in the family, don't they? Oh! Your side of the family, of course. Nice to speak to you too. Vieve will chat soon. Just give her a few days. Sure. Uh huh. Bye now."

When he hung up the phone Vieve said, "You are amazing. You really do put out fires."

"Just doing my job, babe," he said as he shut off the light. "Come here, you."

Chapter 66 - Happy Wall

"When a man and a woman have

an overwhelming passion for each

other, it seems to me... that they

belong to each other in the name

of Nature, and are lovers by Divine right."

Chamfort (1741 – 1794)

French writer

VIEVE was working from home three days each week now, creating graphics, writing publicity and promotional plans and she was starting to work with a website team. At the Marketing firm, they welcomed the space for an Intern and a real Receptionist. The firm had grown to the point where they were actively searching for a bigger space.

She made a little office in one corner of the Master bedroom, where she set up a drafting table, a floor easel, her laptop and a printer. It gave her more opportunity to take wall painting and finishing breaks and be at home when subcontractors were working, though they tried to schedule those times for the days Tony was off. Vieve helped with drywall mudding and plaster patching. She also took charge of the painting, wallpapering and all the faux finishes.

The extrovert in her missed the crew at the office. Still, Tony and Vincent did most of the work and watching them work together and deepen their bond was a warm experience. The guys, Vincent and Tony, sometimes Johnny or Joe, ran new wire through old conduit and she enjoyed hearing them express admiration for each other when a project was successfully completed. She took that as her cue to compliment their work and make a little fuss. Tony was right. Vincent was getting a lot of joy and picking up skills from working with his Dad. He would talk about the experience for the rest of his life. The story always began with, "When Dad married my Step Mom they bought this run-down brownstone..."

When the family was beginning to see light at the end of the tunnel with the remodeling project, Tony started to get excited about adding a family room to the back of the house. He wanted to put her work area there and reclaim their bedroom. They were getting estimates on Vieve's design.

Today she had a surprise for the children and she asked Joe and Marie to keep the kids at the restaurant until 4 PM. When Joe and Rosemary brought the kids over, Vieve made them all close their eyes at the door. She led them towards the stairwell wall in the Dining room.

"Okay, open your eyes now," she said to a collective gasp.

The sepia toned photos that Vieve had framed and which now hung on the wall seemed almost alive, the emotions on the faces of everyone who was in the photographs was youthful and happy and full of joy. Vieve looked at the children's expressions as they peered at the exhibit. The photos had been resized to fit in 11" x 17" or larger frames. It began with a photo of teenaged Tony and Katie going to the prom. Then their wedding picture. There were pictures of Katie and all of the children at various ages and in different stages of their development. A few shelves were also mounted on the wall to highlight their trophies and other testimonies of their own accomplishments. There was an especially sweet photograph of Katie and Tony when he graduated from Columbia. Little Vincent had Tony's mortarboard on his head. It sat crooked and loosely. Tony was holding Gabrielle and Katie was very pregnant with Sophia. Obviously, the wall was meant to be read. There was one picture of Tony on the sofa when he told the kids he was marrying Vieve, and the display ended with a photo of Tony and Vieve, and the kids at their wedding.

Vieve brightened. "I think it is extremely important for all of us to hold Katie's place in this family as very dear to us all. Vincent, Brielle, Sophia," Vieve said their names as she looked at them. "All of you are here because of your Mom and your Dad. Your Mom was wonderful and I always want us to honor her."

"This is beautiful," Joe said.

"Oh my," Rosemary said, grasping his arm.

"It feels like it's always been here," Vincent said. His voice cracked; his emotions choked him.

"We're all so happy in the pictures," Gabrielle said softly.

"I think we should call this our 'Happy Wall,'" Sophia said as she pushed her glasses up her nose.

"Has Dad seen it?" Vincent asked.

"No, not yet. This Happy Wall was my housewarming gift to you children," Vieve answered. "I baked a spice cake to celebrate."

They moved into the kitchen but as the children took their plates of cake and their glasses of milk, Vincent asked, "Can we eat this is the Dining Room?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Vieve said. The children left the kitchen with their snack, and from the kitchen the adults heard them discussing the pictures on the Happy Wall.

"That's really something," Joe said. "Very thoughtful."

"My success with them really matters to me," Vieve commented. "I'm here when they come home from school. I enjoy hearing about their day, and then we pick stories to tell Tony when he's home."

"Your success with Sophia has been amazing," Joe patted her hand.

"But she reached out to me first, Joe. She was so little when Katie died, she didn't lose the bond Vincent and Brielle had. They are good kids, but still very sad, especially Brielle. Sophia doesn't feel the overwhelming loss that they feel. I can be a step-mom to Sophia. I can only try to be a friend to Brielle and Vincent."

"You're right. This was a beautiful, heartwarming project," Rosemary said.

"You are very generous in your affection," Joe said.

"Panini, the kitten, loves Sophia. So, he's been a good addition to the household. I'm going to talk to Tony about getting them a dog, maybe a mixed breed rescue dog. Brielle is twelve and I want to start spending more time with her," Vieve said. "I want piano lessons for Brielle. She's very musical—gets that from you, Joe. She has a lovely singing voice and so does Vincent. As I do all this, I may have to ask for your help."

"Anything," Joe said. "Whatever you need." Rosemary agreed.

"Well, we're going to have to find a decent used piano first."

"Anthony and Johnny grew up with a guy, what was his name?" Joe's voice said as Vieve listened to him speak to Rosemary. "And there's always the studio piano at the restaurant."

Chapter 67 - Fire!

"A man who treats his woman

like a Princess is proof that he was

born and raised in the arms of a Queen."

Wiz Kalifa, stage name for

Cameron Jibril Thomaz

(1987 –) American Rapper,

Songwriter, Singer, Actor

VIEVE was asleep in a black sarong. Tony was on duty. Sophia had crawled into bed with her. These days, Sophia almost always needed to sleep with Vieve when Daddy wasn't home. Sophia shared Vieve with her Dad like she shared her Dad with Vieve.

A siren woke Vieve with a start. The clock said 10:57 PM on the orange LED read-out. Sophia was cuddled up with her plastic Sally doll next to her and the television was still on. Vieve turned the television off with the remote, pulled the covers up around their necks and closed her eyes. Scarcely a minute went by and another siren. Then another. Then Vincent was standing at the door, tapping on the frame gently.

"I heard them too," she whispered, motioning for him to enter the room, getting out of the king-sized bed gently so as not to disturb Sophia.

They walked to the bay window to watch the street. The night sky glowed orange in the direction of the harbor. Vieve reached for her robe, which had slid off the foot of the bed and lay in a heap on the floor. She lifted the cat, Panini, who was very comfortable on her robe, and placed him on the bed. She shook the robe and muttered, "Cat hair."

"We can see it better from my room," Vincent said and she followed him to the back of the house.

"Oh my," Vieve said as they looked out his window.

"It's bad," Vincent said. They heard another siren. "That makes four alarms."

They could see the flames and the steam from the water hoses. "It's right across the river," Vieve said. "Let's go downstairs. I need the news."

"Dad's company almost always responds first to a Manhattan fire," Vincent whispered as they walked to the living room.

Immediately, Vincent had the television on. The reporter on the scene said: "...four alarm fire in the Warehouse District. The street has been blocked off behind me so more pumps can come in if they are needed. No facts on how this fire started, but we'll keep you posted with up to the minute coverage of this inferno."

"What now?" Vieve muttered.

Vincent took that as a signal to offer assistance. "Nonni usually makes spaghetti. A lot of spaghetti. Everyone will probably come over to be together. We'll need to feed them. And when Dad comes home he'll be really hungry too. And he won't be alone. At least half the guys are single and will want a home-cooked meal."

Vieve started talking to comfort herself, to ease her anxiety. "Who could compete with your Nonni's spaghetti?" Vieve asked. "But I do make a mean Cincinnati chili. What do you think? You've had it."

"Yeah. That will be good. Poppy says that you have to have food where people can slice and prepare stuff during a disaster. That way you can keep them busy with something productive."

"Joe's a very wise man," Vieve said. She and Vincent went into the kitchen and found the recipe and the ingredients. "We'll need to shred Cheddar cheese and chop raw onions, and we've got enough veggies to make a raw vegetable tray. We'll get the chili cooking and save the other tasks to diminish nervousness."

Vincent hid the food processor in the pantry. Then he threw a linen towel over it. "Poppy always hides this. He says that it reduces stress to manually chop vegetables." Vincent pulled a ground beef package from the freezer. He looked at the weight of the ground meat and the recipe card. "Multiply this by four?" he waved the recipe card.

"Yes. Would you please see if we have enough ingredients? Let's just try to have lots. Extra will always get eaten later."

"That's what Nonni says," Vincent agreed. "But there are never any leftovers." They began combining ingredients and tried to ignore the other sirens. Together they ran to the television when they heard the late-late movie interrupted for the news. "The fire has been upgraded to eight alarms and has spread due to the wind and the dry weather conditions..."

The doorbell rang and it was Rosemary and Joe. Vieve let them in and ran back to the television set with Vincent. Rosemary went straight into the kitchen and came out with her feelings hurt. Vincent and Vieve were glued to the television, but Joe saw the expression on Rosemary's face and swept her back into the kitchen. "But I always make spaghetti, Joe," she said.

"And everyone loves your spaghetti, sweetheart," he said. "But now it's time to let Vieve step in place as Tony's wife. Remember? We talked about this."

"Pass the baton," Rosemary said biting her trembling lower lip.

He nodded and pecked her mouth. "That's right, and how are we going to pass it?"

"With graciousness," Rosemary said, blinking back tears.

"That's my girl," he said, kissing her forehead the way Tony kissed Vieve's forehead. "Hey!" he yelled to Vieve and Vincent. "Nice job on the cabinets and countertops!" He hadn't been over for a couple of weeks and the kitchen, though incomplete, was, at least, very functional.

"I don't have enough ground beef," Vieve said as the doorbell rang again.

"I'll get some from our place," Joe said. "Let me see the recipe, Vincent."

Vieve opened the door to Eleanor and Kenneth Meadows and Amani Davis. "Anything new?" Amani asked, pushing past them, eyes set on the television. "Excuse me but my husband is on duty. I need the news."

"Went from a four alarm to an eight alarm," Vincent said as he sat down beside Kenneth.

"I came straight from work," Amani said. That explained her scrubs.

"How are you holding up?" Eleanor asked Vieve as Kenneth watched Vieve's face carefully.

"Okay," Vieve said. "This is my first time for anything really big. Any suggestions are appreciated."

"Forget about work tomorrow. Why don't you put on a little make-up? You never know if you'll have to do a little cheerleading and the press is always around these events. Tony will be revived and comforted when he sees his pretty wife," Eleanor advised.

"Good idea," Vieve said. "Rosemary? Will you take over in the kitchen for me? I'm going to get dressed."

"Absolutely, dear," she said pleasantly as Joe winked at his wife. "What are you making?"

"Here's the recipe," Vincent handed her a card. "It just has to simmer, and there are five ways it can be served. There are hot dogs in the freezer and buns. And pasta. And we need some beans. We have to have pasta."

"I'm so glad you are here, Rosemary," Vieve said and squeezed the woman's hand.

The hot shower revived her and Vieve slathered on perfumed moisturizer and some Q10 face cream. As she looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror she wished she could have afforded a little nip and tuck on her jaw line and quickly chided herself for feeling so vain. It all went back to Tony being younger and he was happy with the way she looked. She put on her makeup and thought about what she would wear. Deciding on her gray Liz Claiborne slacks, a black tank top and a gray zip up cardigan that said FDNY where a breast pocket would be—a gift from Yolanda—she also slipped on her black loafers. She selected the white gold neck chain that Gemma gave her and the tiny diamond stud earrings, Tony's first real gift to her. She needed to feel completely connected to Tony now.

Rosemary came upstairs and knocked on the door. As the door opened Vieve heard Joe downstairs singing opera, which always made her smile. Sophia remained asleep in bed with the hard-plastic Sally doll, and Panini, curled up in the inside bend of her knees.

Rosemary, always liberal with adoring looks at her grandchildren, cocked her head and smiled at Sophia. "I checked on Gabrielle," Rosemary whispered. "Better if they can sleep through this."

Vieve nodded. Rosemary took her hand and pulled her into the bathroom and shut the door. She put the lid down and sat Vieve on the toilet, while taking the side of the bathtub as her perch.

"Honey," Rosemary began. "Anthony is very good at what he does. He keeps his crew safe. Together they save lives and property, catch arsonists and other criminals. Even when he was a little kid he was safety conscious and always aware of his surroundings. He's a very physical guy, you know. He's got perfect balance and he's naturally strong. He wasn't the guy who took chances, never jumped out of airplanes or bungee jumped or even went white-water rafting. What I'm trying to tell you is that he doesn't do his job for thrills. He does it because he loves and values life. He's a nurturing kind of guy. I'm telling you this because I know you like to be centered. And the fire is getting worse."

Vieve took Rosemary's hands. "Thanks," she said. "What happens next?"

"We wait and we pray. And if there are any injuries in his company, it would be good for you to go to the hospital and be a cheerleader for Anthony. Great coaches always need their cheerleaders. Joe and I will stay with the kids and keep things in order here. Johnny will mind the restaurant tomorrow."

"I'm so scared," Vieve said, shoulders trembling and eyes brimming with tears. She felt as if all her fears were coming to the surface. She and Tony had just found each other and now she risked losing him. She remembered how numb she felt when she was growing up and during the years she was married to Jim. She considered then and now. As frightened as she was, this was better. She wouldn't go back to feeling anesthetized for anything.

"Of course, you are," Rosemary said as she grasped Vieve's hands. "We all are. Here," she reached in her pocket and shook a pale blue handkerchief. "It's time you carried this. I've had it since Anthony first became a firefighter." She laughed and batted her own teary eyes. "It used to be white until Joe surprised me by doing the laundry and mixed the whites in with his blue sweater. I never gave it to Katie. Now don't get me wrong, " she looked squarely into Vieve's eyes. "I loved Katie. She made my Anthony happy and gave him three great kids. But it takes a very special woman to give attention and love to another woman's children like you do. Anthony and you are really good together—good for each other. Joe and I love you."

"I love you, too," Vieve said. She took the handkerchief and winked at Rosemary. Tony had Rosemary's eyes. Brielle did too.

"You ready to meet your public?" Rosemary asked.

"Yes," Vieve nodded. She patted her eyes and checked her appearance in the mirror. She dropped some lipstick into her pocket and lightly spritzed her brush with Channel No. 5 because when Tony hugged her he always smelled her hair. Vieve DeLuca had no idea that her public appearance was going to extend beyond the modest brownstone in Columbia Heights before this was over. She would be glad she had accepted the advice of the generation who preceded her.

At 12:42 AM the doorbell rang again as Vieve and Rosemary descended the steps. This time, when Vieve opened the door she could smell the fire. The carbon, wood and ashes were in the air and the wind was hot and dry. Mrs. Kellerman and her granddaughter came in with a pound cake and everyone gathered around the television. Then they heard the explosion and the television reporter became very excited. People were running and shouting behind him. He coughed and choked on the smoke and dust, and the camera went to the news desk, inside. The anchor repeated everything that had been said and Vieve went into the kitchen to wash vegetables.

Five minutes later Vieve was back with the others who held their breath as the man on the television listened to his earpiece. Mrs. Kellerman clutched her rosary beads as her granddaughter held an arm around the old woman's shoulder.

A moment later the reporter said: "The leaders of the firefighting teams have examined manifests and shipping documents to determine what is being stored in this location. The explosion you heard could have been a controlled effort to release the heat in the top floor of the building next to where the fire started." Again, he held his earpiece with one hand and made a gesture to wait with the hand that held the microphone. "We have just been ordered to leave the area. For safety purposes the authorities are pushing back the perimeters of the—"

Behind the reporter was a flurry of activity. From the upstairs window in Vincent's room at the back of the house various family members could watch the action. Fire pumps were shifting locations and the paramedic crews were standing by. They could hear other sirens in the distance. Periodically, they would descend the steps to report what they had observed.

The reporter said, "That explosion was not, I repeat, not a controlled explosion. It was a petroleum explosion from an old underground storage tank that apparently no one knew about. A police officer who was evacuating the area is down. Yes. I repeat, reports are confirmed that a police officer is down due to that explosion."

Joe said, "Isn't that Alex?" just as the camera shifted.

"Yeah," Amani said.

Alex was pulling a hose towards another building.

Gabrielle rubbed her eyes as she came down the steps. Her grandfather put his arms around her and pulled her close. "Kind of noisy, huh."

The girl nodded.

The reporter came back, "We have with us the owner of several of these properties. Mr. Nathan Owens. Mr. Owens, what exactly is stored in these warehouses?"

Nathan Owens was a medium sized man with a weak chin. He explained that the warehouses had taken various pet toy shipments from the Orient recently and that some of the toys were stored in containers and others were stored in 55-gallon drums, sandwiched between Styrofoam.

The reporter stated, "When Styrofoam burns, doesn't it release toxic vapors?"

Nathan Owens said that was one of the reasons the records had to be so up to date.

Suddenly the time was 2:49 AM. "Come on," Vieve said to Amani. "Help me make a veggie tray and some dip. Our husbands are going to be starving when they come home."

Amani went into the kitchen and began scrubbing carrots. "Alex loves the Captain, you know?" she said.

"It's the nature and the dynamics of working together in intense conditions. You have to trust the people you work with," Vieve said trying to sound warm, but annoyed that the dry, professional phrasing came out instead. She hugged Amani to warm up the mood of their relationship. "But I think Tony loves Alex way more than just a colleague. I think Tony sees himself in Alex. He says Alex has great instincts and is a natural hero. I love that about them."

They heard the reporter ask what other materials were being stored and Mr. Owens's answers were vague, he seemed distracted. He kept looking behind him. The reporter said that different chemicals were released from various materials when they burned and that was one of the things that firefighters studied so that they would know how to best deal with the fires.

When the doorbell rang again, Vincent answered the door. Little Joey was half-asleep, carried by Johnny. Yolanda held a large package of ground beef, which she gave to Vincent. Before Yolanda could shut the door behind her, they heard another explosion.

"Hey!" Joe called excitedly. "New news!"

Amani and Vieve rushed into the living room to hear the reporter. "—another explosion in an unidentified location. It came from a building closer to the waterfront than the last one. We had to change the location of our camera, for the safety of, uh, at the request of the fire department. To keep you posted, there have been two explosions and after the first explosion, one police officer was injured and has been rushed to Mount Sinai Hospital. We are trying to get correct information on the circumstances of the second explosion."

A collective "Awww!" went up from the group who had been glued to the television. Vieve held Amani's hand and squeezed it. She leaned over the couch and whispered to Vincent, "How are you holding up?"

He turned, looked up and smiled at her with that great face of his and said, "Dad and Alex and the company know what they're doing."

"I have confidence in them too," Vieve said decisively.

The reporter said, "A firefighter has been injured in the last explosion. Apparently, the firefighter has not communicated his exact location. He is still in the building. We are unable to release the injured firefighter's name pending family notification." The camera zoomed on a large open doorway of a warehouse. Smoke billowed out and the area was glowing from the lights bouncing off the smoke. Flames leaped from windows and shot out of the roof. White steam was everywhere as firefighters aimed their hoses along the blocks of warehouses. Again, the camera quickly moved to the large open doorway and Vieve gasped and put her fingers to her mouth. At that moment, Vieve knew Tony was going in to the burning building. Someone was shouting and he stood still, waiting, listening. Suddenly hoses were aimed at the location where Tony was about to enter the building and he disappeared into the warehouse.

The excited reporter said, "You are witnessing courage in action. Another firefighter has gone into this inferno to rescue his injured colleague. These public servants have a bond that is often spoken of."

"I thought Tony rarely went in," Vieve said to Joe.

Joe explained, "Anthony is responsible for a lot of training and management. But a Fire Captain must also be able to perform firefighting duties. You know the job description — 'as necessary'." He and Vieve watched the news and he asked, in very low tones, "You think that was him?"

"Definitely," she said.

Both Johnny and Yolanda put their arms around Vieve. "It'll be okay, Vieve," Johnny said. "Anth's very good at this stuff."

The reporter continued. "The gear that New York firefighters wear and use is state of the art. Their helmet is designed... Can we get a shot of a firefighter's gear?" the reporter asked the news desk. He continued to speak. "Their gear weighs at least 40 pounds and consists of helmet, raincoat, masks, an axe, air tanks and other equipment. A firefighter has to be in top physical shape to perform the duties of their job. They must be focused and aware of their surroundings at all times. These guys and gals are great."

Another reporter said, "There has been no radio contact with the injured man since just after the last explosion." The news desk anchor asked the reporter if he knew why there was no radio communication.

Had communication been lost or were they just not talking? Vieve wondered.

The news anchor showed an organizational structure chart of the FDNY. He said, "Most Fire Departments around the world are organized in a paramilitary fashion. A Captain and three Lieutenants command each individual fire company in New York. In a firehouse that contains more than one Fire Company, the Captain assigned to the engine company is in charge of the firehouse. When a Captain is not on-duty, one of the three company Lieutenants commands the unit. Each company, depending on the specific unit whether Engine, Ladder, Squad, Rescue, Haz-Mat, whatever, is assigned 4 firefighters on Engine Companies with the fifth man or woman being the on-duty officer. Ladders, Squad, and the Rescue Companies staff the units with 5 firefighters per tour or shift, excluding the on-duty officer. During each tour, each firefighter is assigned a specific 'riding position' on the company's apparatus that designates what task each member is to perform at the scene of a fire."

Vieve stood up and went back into the kitchen. She didn't want to show her edginess. She knew all this stuff the reporter was saying. Tony had explained it to her. She needed to keep moving and, like a Dalmatian puppy, she wanted to run and run and run but felt restricted, as if by a chain, to her need for more information than the news reports were giving.

Chapter 68 - Heroes

"Then I realize what it is. It's him.

Something about him makes me feel

like I am about to fall. Or turn to

liquid. Or burst into flames."

Veronica Roth (1988 –)

American novelist and

short story writer, _Divergent_

WHEN Tony descended the steps into the warehouse, he waited until the hoses were fixed on his location. He was the right man for this job because of his physical strength, natural balance and experience. The explosions were unexpected and he knew he was walking into a dangerous and unstable situation. Alex was down, pinned under a beam somewhere and was talking crazy on the radio. The floor above was on fire and the weight of the containers that were stored on the second floor was bearing down on the planks and beams above him.

Through the visor that was attached to his helmet, Tony scanned each section of the warehouse before he stepped forward, gaining feet and inches rather than the yards he wanted to achieve. Sweat ran down his neck and back. Suddenly, he spotted a beam that was down and rushed forward to investigate. Alex was pinned under it. His left leg was so badly broken the bone was sticking out. Fifty-five-gallons drums were everywhere. The word _Kerosene_ had been spray painted on them in white letters. Alex was conscious and speaking, not in gibberish, but in Creole French to several small Haitians who were terrified and shivering in the shadows of the Kerosene drums. They were all taking turns breathing in the mask that was connected to Alex's air tank. A smoky brownish gray cloud loomed above them. The cloud was getting closer to the floor.

Normally, Tony would have escorted the refugees, and called for hoses to be aimed at the kerosene to cool them, but there was no time. Tony was able to move the beam on Alex using his axe as a makeshift lever, lifting just enough that Alex could pull himself free by supporting his body with his arms. Then Tony picked Alex up in one strong motion and placed him on top of his shoulders. Alex shouted to the children in Haitian Creole French to follow Tony. They obeyed.

The quickest route out would have been the downstairs receiving doors. But the doors were made of metal, chained and padlocked. Tony knew that his axe would do nothing against that steel. Time was of the essence. The kerosene drums were unstable. They had no choice but to take their chances and crawl under the smoke towards the entrance that Tony took. Alex told these children to make a human chain by holding hands and Tony would lead them in the chain. They were going to move fast and purposeful. The second floor was on fire and when another beam gave way several paste board containers filled with pet toys crashed down around them.

From the television, the DeLuca's and their neighbors heard the report. "The injured firefighter has been down since the second of two explosions. Another firefighter has gone in," the reporter got very excited as he listened to his earpiece. "The injured firefighter has been found and they are coming out! Our cameras are focused on where we expect the men to exit the warehouse. Reports are that... Wait!" The reporter put his hand to his earpiece again. "We're seeing movements—shadows. They may be coming out momentarily!"

Vieve held her breath. Her heart beat hard as if it were two feet in front of her body. She knew she would never get used to this. Never.

The camera lens focused on the smoky, well-lit entrance, backlit by the fire. Up the steps a silhouette trudged—a large man dressed in firefighting gear. The same way that Vieve knew Tony had gone in, Amani instinctively knew Alex was over Tony's shoulder. Tony pointed with his left hand as paramedics, police officers and reporters cheered. The people in Vieve's living room cheered too. Tony stood motionless, but there was one waving arm, Alex's, who signaled and pointed towards the paramedics as the five children staggered in front of him, coughing and weak. Paramedics dashed towards them when Tony lumbered out. Alex was over his shoulder and managed to wave, Amani knew, for her sake.

The crowd in the living room went wild. Eight seconds later the building exploded.

Chapter 69 - Haitian Kids

"True heroism is remarkably sober,

very undramatic. It is not the

urge to surpass all others no matter

the cost, but the urge to serve

others whatever the cost."

Arthur Ashe (1943 – 1993)

American World No. 1

professional tennis player.

He won three Grand Slam titles.

AT 6:22 AM Tony DeLuca lumbered across the warehouse parking lot, aiming for the ambulance so he could set Alex down and get an EMT focused on Alex's leg. When the building exploded, Tony was blown off his feet. When he stood up, he shook the explosion from his head and saw that the paramedics were tending to Alex and the children. With single-minded purpose Tony DeLuca sprinted towards the Command Center. Because the FDNY had pushed back the crowd of reporters, there were only a few minor injuries from this latest explosion. Tony DeLuca was looking for the owner of the properties, Nathan Owens, who had just been interviewed by the network. His eye caught Owens and he purposefully rushed towards the man. Tony seized him by his collar and shoved him against the side of a van.

"You greedy Son-of-a-Bitch Bastard!" he shouted pulling a fist back to pummel the guy. "Your ass is mine!" he screamed at Owens.

"I was helping those kids," Owens shouted.

"Come on Captain," one officer, Gino Sicarelli, an old friend of Johnny's, said as he halted Tony's arm from moving forward. He quickly motioned for other officers to help him stop Tony. "It's been a long night." It took four cops to pull Tony off Owens.

"Haitian immigrant children living next to 55 gallon drums of kerosene," Tony spit his words out through his clenched jaw while he was pulled backwards. "You SOB!"

"Tony, come on," the officer said. "Let it go. We've got him in custody."

"They took Alex to Mount Sinai. His wife will be there shortly," the Chief said. "We've got it under control. Why don't you get out of here, Captain?" the Chief whispered. "Go to the hospital. Finish your job with your injured man," the Chief said. "Tend to that."

"Yes sir," Tony said, still throwing angry looks at Owens. "I will."

"See!" Owens shouted at Tony. "Big man. Hah!"

"Hey! I could turn him lose on you and testify, with these witnesses, that any bruises and broken bones you received came from the explosion. Just shut up," the Chief said.

The correct term for these small Haitians was "unaccompanied refugee children". They may have had histories of abuse or might be seeking safety from threats of violence. They may have been trafficked or smuggled. The injustice and greed and everything else that went with modern day slavery made Tony furious.

Tony was driven to Mount Sinai Hospital in an ambulance with three of the Haitian children. They were scared and had been crying, but the youngest and smallest one smiled at him. They were dirty and tiny and vulnerable. He softened at the little face and smiled back.

Tony took off his helmet. "Here," an EMT gave him a bottle of water with electrolytes and cleaned the scrape on his face. The procedure burned and when the EMT removed a piece of shrapnel Tony winced a little. "You've got a deep cut under that scrape. Some shrapnel lodged there, but it's out now. I'm gonna put some antibiotic ointment and a butterfly on it. Let me look at that hand."

He felt a burning sensation on the back of his right hand. He called Vieve's cell phone to let her know his ETA to the hospital, but she and Amani were already on their way. Then he called his house to tell the family and friends that he was okay and that he would meet Vieve at the hospital.

"Take this," the EMT said and he handed Tony a wet, sterile cloth. "Wipe the blood off your coat." In the darkness and amid the commotion, Tony had not considered that Alex's leg had bled against his yellow slicker.

Chapter 70 - ER

"The hero is one who kindles a great

light in the world, who set up blazing

torches in the dark streets of

life for men to see by."

Felix Adler (1851 – 1933)

German American professor of

political and social ethics,

rationalist, religious leader and

social reformer who founded

the Ethical Culture movement

GINO Sicarelli, the police officer who was Johnny's old friend, had stopped by the brownstone to pick up Vieve and Amani and to drop them off at the Emergency entrance to Mount Sinai. Gino rolled down the window and said to them, "Call when you get any news." The women waved him away and rushed into the hospital.

Gemma was waiting for them at the door and swept them towards the injured man. "Here's a pager connected to my phone," Gemma said, handing Amani the device. "Push this and page me if you need anything. Alex is in ER Bay Five."

"Come in with me," Amani asked Vieve as she grabbed Vieve's hand. She was nervous and jumpy.

"Of course," Vieve said, scooting the young woman inside the curtain. Alex's gear was on the floor. His face was sooty and smudged. He was heavily medicated and awaiting surgery due to a compound fracture of the tibia and fibula on his left leg, the doctor had said. Alex was feeling no pain.

Amani rushed to him and kissed his sooty face. "Hey, baby," he said to her, reaching for her hair, losing himself in her pretty features. "We saved Haitian children," he said.

"I know," she said, wiping his face with a washcloth an aide handed to her. "Five of them. I'm so proud of you."

"Hi Alex," Vieve said, kissing his freshly cleaned cheek. She listened to the doctor as he spoke to Amani.

"Hey Vieve!" Alex said cheerfully. "The Captain really came through for me. I love that guy. I'm kinda out of it. The meds are Whoo Hoo!"

Vieve stroked his hair. "I know. He's on his way. We're so proud of you. They're gonna take really good care of you." She wanted to give the couple a bit of time alone. "I'm going to get a soda. Coke okay, Amani?" Amani nodded and Vieve squeezed Alex's good leg. She opened her wallet and pulled out a credit card, then looked for a drink machine in the ER lobby. Flashing lights from the doorway distracted her and she saw the ambulance.

Tony jumped from the open back doors of the ambulance. As he turned to pick up his gear, the child who smiled at him jumped into his free arm. The other two children climbed out of the vehicle and followed. Another ambulance with the other children was right behind them.

Reporters, microphones and cameras surrounded Tony and pursued him through the ER entrance. He gave Gemma the child he held and she took the girl and the others to be checked by an ER doctor. Questions were shouted and microphones shoved in Tony's face. "There were five Haitian immigrant unaccompanied children. I don't know why they were in the building," he said, as he walked through the crowd. "The fire is under control. The crews are packing up. Excuse me. I've got to check on a firefighter." He looked forward. And then he saw her.

Vieve may have had a credit card clutched in her hand and a task to accomplish clearly set before her, but her entire reason for living in this moment was to love this man. In eight long strides, he caught up with Vieve and took hold of her–one hand around her waist, another hand at the back of her head. She jumped on his body and wrapped her legs around his hips. He kissed her long and hard and she kissed him back. Nothing was as important to Vieve as her husband was at this very moment. She was entirely focused on him and never heard the chatter among the press or one of the reporters who said, _whoa!_ Nor did she notice a camera flash. When Tony pulled back she whispered, "Good heart," then thumped his chest. She let go of him and placed her feet back on the floor. "ER Bay Five. I'm getting a Coke for Amani. Want one?" He nodded and she watched Tony take long, fast steps through the double doors, then turned and looked at her once more before he disappeared.

Seeing the card in her hand, she was reminded of the task. When she turned to the vending machine she was surprised by the flush of reporters, microphones and cameras that pushed in on her.

"How do you feel about your husband rushing into a burning building?" one asked.

"It's his job. He's a very skilled professional. Those firefighters know what they are doing and aren't we all glad of that," she said squinting a little due to a light aimed in her face.

"Have you had a chance to see the injured firefighter?" someone else asked.

"Yes. What a hero. Thank God he speaks Creole French. He has a compound fracture to his left tibia and fibula from a beam collapsing on him. But he is in good spirits and his wife and Captain DeLuca," she emphasized the correct pronunciation of their name, "are with him now, before he goes into surgery." She put her card in the machine and pressed a button twice.

"Is it true that you and Captain DeLuca have been married for only six months?" someone asked.

She smiled. "Let's keep this about these guys. The firefighters are the heroes of this story."

"But that would explain why the Captain kissed you like he did," one ventured as others chuckled in agreement.

"If you think that was something you should have seen how our injured hero kissed his wife not ten minutes ago," she laughed, nodded and raised her eyebrows. "Every woman should be kissed like that by the man she loves." She retrieved two Cokes.

"What about the five-other people that surfaced with the Captain and Davis?" one asked.

"I have very little information on them. I'm certain that the Command Center will be happy to answer any questions you have regarding how the Columbia Heights Crew from the Middagh Street Firehouse, Engine 205 Ladder 118, saved five unaccompanied Haitian child refugees a few seconds before the building exploded." She smiled that winning smile of hers into the cameras. "Health and Human Services will get involved now, and the Federal law requires that ORR, the Office of Refuge Relocation feed, shelter, and provide medical care for unaccompanied children until it is able to release them to safe settings with sponsors." She was grateful for the education Charlie and Delores Henderson gave her back at the shelter in Cincinnati. Later, she would consider how, when we are present and aware, we are able to use our knowledge and build or teach and help others with paradigm shifts.

She continued, "These firefighters love their lives, their families, their neighbors and this city. Doing their job well is just one way they can express that feeling by protecting what they hold dear. You know the FDNY crews do much more than fight fires. They catch arsonists and other criminals and are involved in many aspects of rescue. Our public servants are truly New York's finest. And don't we love them all!" She blew them a big New York City kiss. "Excuse me. I need to tend to a couple of these heroes right now." She smiled at the cameras and disappeared behind the double doors.

Chapter 71 - PR

"I think a hero is any person

really intent on making this a

better place for all people."

Maya Angelou (1928 – 2014)

Poet, author and

civil rights activist

AT home the visitors cheered when Vieve ended her unofficial press conference on the television. Mug shots of Alex, Amani, Tony and Vieve were all over the morning news. The explosion was replayed and replayed; so was the scene of Tony carrying the little girl from the ambulance. He looked at the child tenderly and she was grinning ear-to-ear with one little arm around his neck. The kiss between Tony and Vieve was also played and reporters' commentary covered all three moments.

Chris was assigned to go to the house before any of the other crew and Kelly called him because the story was on the national news and she had just seen it. Everyone loved the Cincinnati chili and had it on hot dogs and over pasta with their choice of beans, chopped sweet onions and/or shredded cheddar cheese. Rosemary found mascarpone, vanilla, Ricotta and pistachio nuts in Vieve's kitchen. She made them into a cannoli-like filling, sandwiching it between slices of Mrs. Kellerman's pound cake, cut into little squares, secured with a toothpick, and with one end dipped in melted chocolate.

Vieve's little speech to the reporters was replayed all over the local and state news and by the evening news one station had several still photos of things that happened in one Operating Room waiting area at Mount Sinai. It even made the national network news that evening.

First, the stills showed Tony and Vieve with their foreheads together and talking low, intimately. No recorder picked up the words or sound as Tony was telling Vieve about Owens and how he lost his temper. No one reported on Vieve's sweet words to him. "Of course. I would have attacked him too. He's a monster."

There were shots of them at Amani's side and then as Vieve, Amani and Tony gave each other a three-way embrace. Another was taken when they were all trying to rest. Amani held the buzzer for the operating room in her hands and had placed her head on Vieve's lap as Vieve leaned into Tony whose eyes were shut as he rested his chin on his hand, elbow on the sofa arm. His right hand was bandaged and there was a butterfly Band-Aid on his cheek. His arm was around the back of the sofa and when he had relaxed, his arm dropped so that it lay on top of Vieve's shoulders.

There was a great shot of Amani on the courtesy phone talking to the doctor with Tony and Vieve in the background, holding hands, watching the serious expressions on Amani's face. After the phone call ended, Amani did a touchdown cheer and another photo showed Tony when he picked Amani up and twirled her around with Vieve laughing and clapping her hands in the background as she stood near the sofa. The last pictures were of the crew who all came to the hospital to wait with Amani and welcome their injured colleague from the sleep of successful surgery.

A local cable talk show host held up Vieve's photo and said: "Who is this woman? Genevieve DeLuca, wife of Fire Captain Anthony DeLuca from Columbia Heights. This morning New York city fell in love with her."

The host clicked on a video of Tony kissing Vieve in the ER entrance and froze the shot. "Is that the greatest kiss or what? I think that since Captain and Mrs. DeLuca are newlyweds, their love has bounced and reverberated all over New York!"

In Ohio, Jim Chapman stared at the news. Peter and his wife slapped hands in a high five and Sammy and Lynette shouted, "Way to go!" while they held their baby.

Joe smiled at Rosemary from the living room sofa while the household cheered. Johnny and Yolanda opened the restaurant, and the place was filled. The television above the bar was on. They watched the same show the family was watching at the brownstone. The host said, "Well Mrs. DeLuca! New York loves ya back!"

The diners in Salud! cheered.

Late in the afternoon, when Vieve and Tony got back to their brownstone, they were welcomed by the neighborhood as heroes. Vincent hugged his father goodnight and then hugged Vieve—something he hadn't done since Vieve and Tony were married.

Gabrielle said, "It's nice to have your Dad be your hero," when she kissed Tony as he tucked her in bed. Sophia had slept through the entire event, until the last explosion, but got to watch highlights of the exciting night recapped on the news.

Chapter 72 - Commissioner's Call

"Love of glory can only create

a great hero; contempt of glory

creates a great man."

Charles Maurice duc de

Talleyrand-Périgord

(1754 – 1838)

Ambassador, politician

and great deceiver

AFTER the kids were in bed, the phone rang and when Tony answered it he said a few formal yes sir's and gave the receiver to Vieve. It was the Fire Commissioner thanking her for her focus and commitment to the New York Fire Department.

"You're welcome sir," she said. "Everyone wants to give the Fire Department more good media coverage. All I did was point the camera in their direction. Thank you, Commissioner Hammond. Goodnight." She handed the phone back to Tony.

"How's your injured man?" the Commissioner asked.

"Doing well. He really appreciated your phone call."

"Good. That's good. I keep thinking about your wife. Smart lady."

"Yes, sir. She is."

"I've been thinking about hiring a public relations director for the Department. We lost the one we had—moved away after 9-11 and we never replaced him. Do you think she'd would be interested?" the Fire Commissioner asked.

"I'm sure she'd be interested in speaking to you," Tony said. "Vieve makes her own career decisions, sir."

"You and your crew did a fine job last night, Captain," his voice had taken a more formal tone.

"Thank you, sir," Tony said.

"And, with your testimony, and Alex Davis's we are going to get that Son-of-a-Bitch Owens."

"I'm glad to hear that, Commissioner," Tony said.

"Have a good evening with your family. Goodnight Captain."

"Thank you, sir. Goodnight, Commissioner," Tony said, then hung up the phone.

The Commissioner turned to his wife as he put the phone down. He leaned back in his Library chair and stroked his chin and neck. "That's the guy who should take my spot when I retire, Marietta."

"Anthony DeLuca?" she asked from the sofa. She folded the newspaper and placed it on the coffee table. "He'd be perfect," she said.

"What did you think of his wife today?" he asked.

"She was just what was needed. What a personality!"

Commissioner Greg Hammond made a call to his assistant's voice mail, "Carla, please call Mrs. Anthony DeLuca, uh, Vieve DeLuca, in Columbia Heights and set up an hour-long appointment with me next week. Tell her I want to discuss some PR ideas."

Chapter 73 - Flourishing

"When I let go of what I am,

I become what I might be."

Lao Tzu or Laozi

(605 BCE – 531 BCE)

Chinese philosopher and writer

VIEVE closed her eyes and was content. She had remained present and engaged through the entire day and felt her feminine power strongly. She felt certain that she was emotionally centered. This mental shift made the texture of today's life experience rich and authentic. Even though she would never get used to Tony entering burning buildings, she thought about how she had endured twenty-five years immersed in a horrible stress with her previous marriage. At least in this life many people were helped—lives were even saved. The humanness and compassion of her choices resonated deeply within her. Vieve was grateful for the time she could share with this wonderful man, the love of her life. Love making with him was beautiful and wildly erotic and she felt safe and cherished. The people in her life listened to her voice and valued her. Yesterday was behind them, and they survived. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges. Now, the present, was what was important.

Vieve loved her life. She was grateful that she was part of a couple and a cherished member of a warm, loving family. Respect and gratitude was all about her.

Tony always made that smoodgy little hum before he kissed her. He held her in his arms, his eyes were closed and he whispered, "I am immensely proud of what you did. You were a fine example to Amani and the other wives. Some wives fall apart after something like this and it makes their fire-fighting husbands have even more stress when there's another fire or another rescue. They need to be focused, not distracted. Good job, sweetheart."

They made love and he kissed her hair and whispered, "Goodnight, babe." He pulled her close into his chest so her hair would perfume his dreams. He bent his knees under her curled legs. In a moment, he was asleep. He loved to sleep with his arms around her. He would hold her all night and when she woke up in the morning, she would still be encircled in his embrace.

# # #
Thank you for reading my book.

If you enjoyed it, won't you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer? I really appreciate your help with this. Thank you.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

R. A. Labrenz is from Chicago's Southside. She has been writing since she was six years old, when she won her first award for an essay about her terrific, literate and articulate father. Both sides of her family contain smart, gifted, story tellers so she not only grew up immersed in this environment, but inherited the imagination, the memory and the word orientation to bring stories to life. As an Administrator who worked in corporate settings, she was often tasked with writing and communication. She has two tall, handsome grown sons, a granddaughter, named Willow, and Doc, the rescued dog. She says she would write even if no one read her stories, because writing brings her such great enjoyment. When she's not writing she's painting (decor and fine art), gardening, traveling and volunteering in community service work, often with refugees.

LEND IT TO END IT - THE GIFT TO END ABUSE

Almost everyone who reads _The Song of the Willow_ wants to do something to end Abuse. I hope you will aid us in this cause. I request that each person order a copy for themselves so that my distributor can keep an accurate tally. It's free until March 4, 2018. It's the only way we can keep a tally.

Many victims go back to or never leave their abusers, because they don't know how to burn the bridge to their abuser. They are immersed in their own identity as a victim which drowns and smothers them psychologically. They have a belief system that severely limits them ("I'm going to be homeless," "What will become of me?" "I really can't live without him." etc.).

Our protagonist, our heroine, honestly examines her own victim identity and limiting beliefs, which gives her courage to find the tools to burn the bridge that leads back to her abuser. In doing so, she begins to flourish. These skills are learnable.

Each of us is only six or seven relationships away from everyone. When enough people become aware that there is a way to survive abuse, and to flourish after, we will have destroyed a monstrous cycle that has affected them. The real power of LEND IT TO END IT isn't just in recommending an eBook or a hard copy of this book to another person or family. Knowledge is powerful.

Dear Reader,

When I was five years old, living in Chicago's Southside, a mother and her two children moved into a 2-room apartment near us. 2 rooms! Can you imagine? My family had them over for dinner a few times and once I spent a memorable, pleasant afternoon in their immaculate, barely furnished flat. Several weeks later they disappeared. My father explained that their father was an abuser, a wife and child beater, and a stalker. They fled, for their lives, in the middle of the night, because this horrible, sick fiend had found them. We would never see them again. They were safe, for now.

Of course, I was horrified.

This novel is the result of a lifetime of befriending and advocating for women who are victims of abuse of one form or another. I believe these women's stories should be told and I felt impelled to tell them. The names have been changed because much of this story is based on true experiences. Some of these women's voices have been silenced. If you are unaware of specific details about what abuse to women can mean, you may find some of the material shocking.

Abuse to women is shocking. Revealing the abuse is POWERFUL. Remember: All it takes for evil to continue is for good people to do nothing.

When human beings experience some degree of pain they can develop compassion. But abuse is different from general human experiences and it is extreme. Experts say as many as two-thirds of couples experience it, one-third of them chronically. The effects of abuse can be devastating: depression, anxiety, and destroyed self-esteem. "It's very erosive," says Marti Loring, Ph.D., author of Emotional Abuse. "Whether it's overt or covert, the abuse negates a woman's very being."

Today a culture of abuse exists. Mindfulness and compassion practices go radically against this cultural conditioning by emphasizing how to become aware and present with our experience, with ourselves, and with the world around us rather than disengaging with electronic gadgets, fantasy, and other distractions. Over time, victims can learn to reconcile with their experiences, and realize that their emotions are worthy of consideration. Teaching people to become aware, rather than becoming numb, builds, encourages and leads to happier people. Awareness can also help people be calmer, less burned out, less reactive, more present, and more effective in their choices.

Understanding victim identity and limiting beliefs can lead to healing and reconciliation with past trauma. Psychologists call the success that victims can achieve "flourishing", the opposite of depression, avoidance, and disengagement. Abused women can survive and grow from the experience. When they share their experience with others, they help others who want to succeed. Mindfulness builds emotional intelligence, boosts happiness, increases curiosity and engagement, reduces anxiety, soothes difficult emotions and trauma, and helps people focus, learn, and make better choices. The only person you can change is yourself.

My intention with this book is to open discussions about this complicated matter, certainly not to dwell on the specifics of abuse, and to explore questions that need answers. Also, included at the end are resources. The story has a happy ending, which promotes life after abuse. It is certainly not meant to say that all victims have such a happy ending to their stories. But there is always hope when the war against abuse is won. And, happily, many of the experiences the protagonist has, are based on the life experiences of real women.

Personally, I look forward to a time when the world is filled with Love and abuse is a thing of the past.

R. A. Labrenz, The Author

RESOURCES

Victim Identity

In Psychology, this is described like an allergic reaction to personal responsibility. It means a difficult life. A person with a Victim identity is someone who has identified with whatever crises, traumas, illnesses or other difficulties have occurred in their lives, particularly those that began very early in life. This is a survival technique. Check out:

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/traversing-the-inner-terrain/201102/the-victim-identity

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/traversing-the-inner-terrain/201103/recovering-the-victim-identity

Perpetual Victim Identity

Psychology Today states: "These belief systems are in place to protect the Victim from ever having to really engage life and hurdle its hurdles... the best way to cope is to just stay on the down-side of life, and never, never, never expect more."

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/traversing-the-inner-terrain/201102/the-victim-identity

Emotional Abuse

http://liveboldandbloom.com/11/relationships/signs-of-emotional-abuse

http://www.womenshealthmag.com/sex-and-love/emotional-abuse

http://liveboldandbloom.com/11/relationships/signs-of-emotional-abuse

Erin K. Leonard, PhD, Emotional Terrorism: Breaking the Chains of a Toxic Relationship

The Workplace Bullying Institute

http://www.workplacebullying.org

Also check out: Gender Discrimination, Education Discrimination, Health, Sexual Harassment, Property Rights

OTHER BOOKS BY THIS AUTHOR

_The Thinking Woman's Travel Guide To True North_. This is a coming of age/romance story that follows three girls to adulthood. One of them has a successful marriage but the other two are struggling. They grow, laugh, cry, love, cry again and become skilled as they navigate through life. They even meet Joe, Tony and Vieve DeLuca!

CONNECT WITH R. A. LABRENZ

I really appreciate you reading my book! Here are my social media coordinates:

Follow my blog and like me at: https://ralabrenz.blog/

Friend me on Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/R-A-Labrenz-299357317153000/

Favorite my Smashwords author page: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Labrenz

Connect on LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/in/reneelabrenz

Connect on Google+: plus.google.com/+ReneeLabrenz

Email me at: mailto:http://virtualrenee@gmail.com

