Fraser was
the only one around the Vecchio dinner table that was focused on Ray. Everyone
else: Ma, Francesca, Maria, Tony, the kids and even Ray himself had their
attention riveted on the tall woman who sat beside Ray.
Even
sitting down, she was tall. Or perhaps it was just her way of dominating the
room that made everyone feel, subliminally, that Vincenza
took up more physical space than anyone else around. The usual babble and
bantering of Vecchio dinner chatter was subdued. All were listening to whatever
Vincenza had to say. They had much to listen to, as Vincenza had an opinion on every subject. She delivered the
opinions in a deep and sultry voice that didn’t need to be raised to capture
everyone’s attention.
Most of the
family seemed happy to have Vincenza at the table. Tony
was enjoying just looking at this classic Italian beauty. Francesca and Maria
seemed to have embraced her as a sister and listened with rapt attention to her
pronouncements about what colour eye-shadow each of the Vecchio sisters should
or shouldn’t wear. The kids were enjoying the novelty of having Uncle Ray’s
bride-to-be close by where they could observe her every foible and mannerism.
Everything
about Vincenza seemed to be a performance: she waved
her fork in the air to make a point, tossed her head to make her smooth, raven
hair dance about her shoulders, turned often to touch Ray lightly on the arm
and occasionally kissed Ray on the cheek. Fraser wondered if it were deliberate
on her part to choose a moment when he happened to be chewing to kiss him. It
made it look as though she were bestowing her valuable attention on a chipmunk.
But Ray
looked happy. Yes, it was gratifying to see Ray enjoy himself and enjoy the
woman beside him. If a woman was what Ray really wanted, then Fraser would have
to be a good friend to his partner’s future wife. And he’d have to keep his own
love for Ray a secret. Never, never would he force his affection on his friend
without first being assured that the object of his love would not shrink from
him in disgust.
If Ray had
loved me, he would have told me. Fraser forced himself to believe this. His
Italian friend was not shy of showing his emotions. So, Fraser made the mental effort to believe
that it was fortunate that his friend had found, it seemed, a dream woman –
beautiful, brainy, bold and desperate to be his wife.
Desperate. Odd that that word should pop into my head just
now, Fraser thought. But that’s what seemed to be. She’s working hard to impress Ray every
minute, and to impress all of the rest of us, too. What does she fear? They’re
engaged. She’s wearing a diamond solitaire (which Ray hadn’t been able to
afford to buy for Angela) and there’s a wedding scheduled for two weeks from Saturday.
Ray is smitten with her. And yet, she’s not at ease with him or with the
family. Fraser pondered the mystery as he ate. I wonder if she loves him, the
Mountie thought. I hope, for Ray’s sake, that she does.
Am I the
only one that doubts, Fraser wondered and swept the dinner table with his eyes.
All around him the woman held the extended Vecchio family in her spell. No.
There was one hold-out. Fraser studied one pair of eyes that watched Vincenza closely but did not sparkle with enjoyment, one
mouth that frowned ever so slightly. Ma must have felt his gaze upon her. She
darted a quick glance at the Mountie, just enough for him to be sure of her disapproval
of her daughter-in-law-to-be.
“And I
found the most delightful wallpaper for the kitchen. Absolutely perfect,” Vincenza declaimed in a tone that dared anyone to champion
wallpaper of any lesser perfection.
“You want
to change the kitchen wallpaper, cara?” said Ma,
tentatively. She glanced towards the kitchen of the Vecchio house.
“Gwen, no,
of course not.”
It was just
a little thing that bothered Fraser but apparently none of the Vecchios, that Vincenza addressed Ma by her first name. Fraser had
graduated from “Mrs. Vecchio” to “Ma” within a week of meeting her and never
really thought of Ray’s mother as even having a given name.
“I mean the
kitchen we’re going to have – Ray and me,” she declared.
Silence
fell over the dining room. All of them looked from Vincenza
to one another and back to Vincenza again.
Francesca
finally spoke up, but addressed herself to her brother. “Ray,” she said
carefully, “you never mentioned anything about getting your own place.”
So far
during the evening Ray had been enjoying his food, his family and his fiancée
without any sign of tension. Now, he stiffened, finished chewing the bit of
lasagna that was in his mouth, swallowed with deliberation and turned to Vincenza with his first frown of the night.
“Vincenza, didn’t we decide we’d tell Ma about that later?”
Cautious.
Too cautious, thought Fraser. He’s afraid of this woman. As afraid of her as he
is of his mother. Why didn’t I see it before?
Vincenza
was having nothing of his caution. “Ray! Now’s the best time to tell them, now
that we’re all together.” She leaned towards Ma. Fraser found himself wondering if anyone else
noticed Ma leaning away. “Gwen, dear, I’m taking Ray out of your hair. I’ve
found us a wonderful apartment in my Aunt Yolanda’s building. Just the right
size and just the right price. Wait until you see the tiles. The most exquisite
tiles you’ve ever seen anywhere.
Tony
stiffened. He himself had chosen and laid the ceramic tiles in the Vecchio
bathrooms a mere two years ago and had his own opinion as to whether more exquisite
ones could be found in some other house. He waited for someone to come to his defense
but the Vecchios were too stunned to speak. So he spoke for them.
“You’re
taking Ray out of the house?” he asked.
It was just
the right phrasing to echo the feelings of the silent Vecchios. “Taking him out
of the house”, not “getting your own place”.
Vincenza’s
already low voice dropped a good octave lower still. “Is that a problem?”
Francesca
cleared her throat and forced out a sound that was something like: “And Ray’s
okay with this?”
Ray threw
his napkin aside impatiently. “Is Ray actually sitting here? Maybe you could
ask me something?”
Francesca
jumped to her feet. “Okay, big brother. I’ll ask you something.” Francesca
opened her arms in a wide inclusive gesture. “What are you thinking? You’re
leaving your own house?”
Ray dropped
his eyes. “Vincenza thinks we’d be better off in our
own place.”
“And what
do you think, Raymondo?” Ma put in.
They all
waited.
“Well?” Ma
insisted.
Fraser
found himself gripping the bottom of the carved rosewood chair under him. Ray’s
first wife had lived in the Vecchio house, as did Tony now and even Francesca’s
ex-husband during their short marriage. There was no question that Ma expected the
family to stay together and Vincenza had a plan of
her own. Could Ray’s obsession with his new love over-ride his obedience to his
mother? Stay or go, the woman in Ray’s life who lost this match would punish
Ray for it, of that Fraser was sure. What would Ray’s next words be? Whatever
they were, they would most likely provoke fireworks and Fraser wanted to be
grounded when the explosions burst.
But Ray was
cautious enough to forestall a blast. He leaned over and kissed Vincenza’s cheek first, then stood and walked over to his
mother and planted a kiss on the top of her grizzled head. “It’s so sweet how
you fight over me. You know what I think? I think we’re ready for dessert.
Fraser
could see that both women’s minds were working furiously trying to decide
whether to let their son or fiancé get away with this diversion. In the privacy
of her own thoughts it seemed to him that each gave up for the moment and let
the possible storm pass. He loosened the grip on his chair. They would get
though the evening without anyone getting fried.
=====================================
Vincenza
made a big noise about wanting to clean up after dinner but somehow got
diverted by Maria’s kids who demanded she read them a story before they went to
bed. With suspicious ease, the boy made a picture book appear from a handy spot
on the living room floor. Each child tugged at one of Vincenza’s
arms and led her toward the stairs. She ascended like a queen flanked by two
attendant pages. Ray followed dutifully, bringing up the rear of the entourage.
In the
kitchen, Ma dismissed her two daughters and son-in-law. “Go watch TV,” she
ordered, “Benito and I will do the dishes.”
Helping Ma
in the kitchen pleased Fraser on many levels. The fastidious Mountie enjoyed
making a messy place clean again. Helping Ray’s mother made him feel like a
part of the Vecchio family. Stacking the dishwasher was a test of his skill –
how to get the maximum number of dishes into the machine in the most efficient
arrangement to allow the flow of water on each dirty surface.
Ma rinsed
the supper dishes and handed them to him one by one to the Mountie to arrange
in the machine. The dishwasher was half full before she got to the point.
“What do
you think of this Vincenza?”
Fraser
sighed and placed a soup ladle into a carefully chosen spot before giving his
non-answer. “What do you mean?”
Ma took his
arm, steered him to the kitchen table and sat him down on a chair. She sat down
beside him and leaned close. “Do you think she loves my son?”
“I’m not
sure I can answer that.”
“Meaning,
no, you think she doesn’t and you don’t want to say it.”
Thus pinned
down, Fraser ducked his head in embarrassed acknowledgement. “I think she has
an ulterior motive, but I don’t know what it could be. Her attention to Ray
seems, I don’t know . . . “
“Forced, I
can tell. And if I can tell, you can tell. Right?”
Fraser’s
silence showed that he agreed.
“But I
don’t understand why, Benito. My Raymondo, he’s a
sweet boy and good-looking and has a steady job. Anybody would love him, that’s
true.”
Fraser
didn’t dare smile in front of Ma but he thought to himself: I certainly do love
him, and it has nothing to do with his steady job. It has to do with his
wonderful bright eyes, his proud nose, his easy manner covering his intensity,
his overall, incredible Ray-ness.
“But
something just doesn’t feel right,” Ma concluded.
Fraser had
been feeling guilty until now. He had been sure his misgivings had only been
due to his own desire for Ray and his envy of this woman. It was gratifying to
know his fears were not all in his own head. He had an ally.
“I agree,”
Fraser said.
“But what
can we do about it?”
“Ma, the
question is: should we do anything at all?”
Ma picked
up Fraser’s two hands in her own and peered into his face as she said, “Yes, we
should. We love him and we don’t want him tied down to someone who doesn’t love
him as much as we do.”
What does
she mean, what does she mean? Fraser’s mind raced at the possible implication
of her words. She used the plural – we love him. Does she think I love him as a
dear friend, a brother, or does she read in me what Ray himself cannot?
Ma’s eyes
upon him were steady and loving. He searched her face for possible emotions:
pity? Disgust? All he saw was steadfast
affection.
“What would
we do?”
Ma dropped
his hands and stood up. She walked over to the kitchen sink and then turned
back to face him. “Benito, you know how to track people.”
“Of
course.”
“You’re not
a detective like my Raymondo but you can follow
people and see what they do.”
This time
Fraser did smile. “I’ve had some experience doing that.”
“So they
don’t notice?”
His smile
widened. “There wouldn’t be any point in following them if they did notice,
Ma.”
She matched
his smile. “Good. So you will follow this Vincenza
and see what she does when she’s not with Raymondo.
If she has a secret, I know you will find it.”
“She’s with
Ray most of the time. As you say, he’s a detective. He will notice if I follow
them, even if she doesn’t.”
Ma’s smile
widened to a full grin. “I said he was a detective, I didn’t say he was
perfect. When he’s with that woman he won’t be so careful.” Then she came back
to Fraser and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I think you can follow my Raymondo pretty good.”
Her
motherly kiss warmed his cheek first, and then the warmth spread through his
face and all through him. He luxuriated in the sensation for a few moments
before rational thought returned.
“I think,”
he began carefully, “you may be over-reacting just because she wants to move
Ray out of the house.”
“I may be
over-reacting?” Ma repeated. “Just me? Don’t you want to know what she’s really
after?”
“Just
because she seems false to us, it doesn’t mean she’s hiding some guilty secret.
I’m not sure that tailing her is going to tell us what her motives are.”
Ma had an
answer for him. “Then, if she’s got nothing to hide, you won’t find anything.
And that would be good to know too.
===================
Ray and Vincenza spent most evenings together, although out of
deference to his mother he did not spend the night at her place. By keeping to shadows and hiding behind fences
and bushes, Fraser was able to tail them from a restaurant to her apartment
building. Some tracker’s instinct told Fraser to wait outside until Ray came
out again to go home.
As he stood
there in the shadows waiting he saw, in his mind’s eye, Ray’s hand touching her
face and then drawing her close for an intense kiss. He shivered. He himself
should be the recipient of such a kiss. It was his own face that Ray should be
caressing. He continued to torture and pleasure himself with alternating scenes
in his imagination. Ray sucking at her breast, then Ray nibbling at Fraser’s
own nipples. Ray running his hands over her bottom, then Ray caressing Fraser’s
own waiting flesh. Ray shoving himself hard into her – no, no, into me. It was
all the Mountie could do to keep still and silent as he imagined all this.
Somehow a
couple of hours past and Ray emerged from the old brick mansion now converted
into apartments. Fraser was anguished to see that Ray was unsteady on his feet
as he came down the concrete steps, gripping the wrought iron railing as he
carefully put one foot before another. Evidently that woman had put him through
an intense physical workout.
Fraser
controlled his anguish and jealousy. You’re here to observe, he told himself.
He observed Ray get into the Riv and drive away. The
same tracker’s instinct that had made him stay put before told him to continue
waiting. Within twenty minutes his instincts proved true. Vincenza
emerged. Fraser slipped around to the side of house and watched from around the
corner as she came down the walk from the front door to the street. She was
wearing different clothes than before. With Ray she had been wearing a
semi-formal dress, light blue with a high collar and long sleeves. Now she had
on a tight miniskirt and halter top. Her long black hair was also different –
spiked and shooting out from her head, whereas with Ray it had hung smoothly,
almost sedately, close around her face, neck and shoulders.
Fraser held
still and invisible just until she had closed herself into a taxicab. Then he
flagged down a cab of his own and ordered the driver to follow her, feeling
momentarily foolish at speaking the hackneyed line “Follow that car.” Of course
he added “Please” but it didn’t make it sound much better.
Vincenza’s
taxi came to a stop outside a building that had once been a church but was now
apparently a bar of some kind. A pink neon sign identified it as “The Church
Club”. Fraser asked the cab driver to wait while he observed Vincenza get out of the cab and head for the large wooden
double door of the club. The woman eased the right hand door open and slipped
inside.
Fraser sat
watching while other people went in and out of the club. Mostly they went in
pairs and all of these pairs were same sex. Occasionally a lone man or woman
passed through the doors. Fraser’s powers of observation were strained to try
to make out which were men and which were women, their clothes being no
reliable indicator.
Fraser
asked the driver to wait and then got out of the cab. He needed to find a phone
quickly. A club patron of indiscriminate gender came out of the left hand door
and paused to look the Mountie over with clear appreciation.
“Do you
know where I might find a phone?” Fraser asked politely.
“Help
yourself,” offered the patron in tone that suggested he or she was offering
much more than the use of a telephone.
Fraser
chose to ignore this as he chose to ignore all such blatant bids for his
attention. He murmured a brief “Thank you kindly” and called Ray’s house. If
Ray answered, he would have to hang up. But Ray had looked pretty exhausted
when he left Vincenza’s place. Hopefully he was in bed by now. Please let Ma
answer, Fraser prayed to no deity in particular.
Despite the
lack of direction of the prayer, it was answered. Fraser heard Ma’s “hello”.
“Ma, listen
and don’t talk. I’m sending a taxi over to the house. Get in it. The driver
will bring you to where I am.”
“Of course,
I’ll be right there,
======================================
Ma and
Fraser stood outside the club both watching the doors. There was a definite
risk of detection in the two of them being there. Fraser had the speed and
agility to spring behind a parked car if he caught sight of Vincenza
coming back out the door, but Ma’s considerable bulk precluded her being able
to move as quickly. It was a risk Fraser was willing to take. He wanted another
witness to what he was expecting to see.
“You say
she went in here, Benito? A gay club?”
Fraser
turned and looked at her with some surprise. “You know this is a same-sex
establishment?”
“Everyone
in
“I want us
to go in together, Ma.”
She
chuckled. “A man and a woman going in here together. I don’t think so. You go
in alone. It’s for you to go in a place like this, not me.” She gave him a
significant look.
She does
know I’m gay. She’s telling me she knows, Fraser decided, and it hurt his
dignity. Ma surely couldn’t believe he frequented places like this. He didn’t
go around looking for men to sleep with. He was deeply in love with only one
man. He studied her face and again saw the look of affection she had given him
in the kitchen the other night.
“Better a
good-looking man than an old lady,” she assured him. “That’s all I meant,
Benito. It’s a nice night and there are plenty of police around. I’ll be fine
waiting here. Go.”
“No, the
whole point was to have both of us here as witnesses, in case . . .” he paused,
having difficulty with the end of the sentence.
“In case
there’s something to witness. All right, caro. In we
go. And don’t we make an adorable couple.”
She linked his arm into his and they entered the club together.
**************
The Church
Club was an upscale establishment. The music, not too loud, was a good decade
old, and the clientele were well-behaved.
But for the pairing of the patrons it could have been any respectable
bar. Only a few people there were in any way outlandish and one of these was Vincenza. Fraser and Ma caught sight of her sitting in a
booth with another woman, much younger. The woman was blond and dressed
modestly in jeans and a T-shirt. The Mountie pushed Ma quickly and unceremoniously
into the booth behind them before Vincenza had a
chance to notice.
As Ma
settled herself Fraser put a finger to his lips in warning. Ma gave him a look
of exasperation. (Do you think you have to tell me to be quiet?) Fraser made a
small grimace of apology. (Sorry, Ma.) She smiled back at him. (It’s okay, caro.) This silent conversation finished, they concentrated
on listening to Vincenza and her companion.
They heard Vincenza say, “So that’s why I haven’t been able to spend
so much time with you. Carol, he’s the perfect cover.”
The other
woman, now identified as Carol, sounded angry. “You mean to tell me you’ve been
spending all this time with a man?”
“I need
security, honey. Once I’m married I won’t have to worry about anything. I’ll
have a husband to feed me. Ray’s so old-fashioned, he wouldn’t expect me to
keep a job. We’ll have plenty of time to be together while he’s out chasing bad
guys.”
“Won’t he notice? Men are stupid but they’re
not that stupid.”
Vincenza
snickered. It was an evil sound that made both Ma and Fraser cringe.
“Ray is.
He’s smart enough to earn a detective’s salary but he knows dick about
relationships. He’s got this friend. Gorgeous - if you like men. The poor sap
has the hots for Ray and Ray doesn’t have a clue.
Ma was just
able to pick up Fraser’s blushing in the dim light of the bar. She reached
across the table and picked up his hand in her own.
“And who
knows? Maybe he’ll get shot and I’ll be a widow. “
At this, Ma
squeezed Fraser’s hand in alarm. Fraser used his free hand to pat her wrist
reassuringly. (A male couple on their way from the bar to the dance floor
glared at them. “That’s disgusting” complained one of the men to his partner,
appalled at this blatant display of heterosexuality.)
“Well, I’m
still not sure,” Carol whined. “We’re supposed to be exclusive, Vinnie.”
“We are
exclusive. Ray doesn’t count. He’s just a man. I can handle him. Do you know,“
she lowered her voice, leaving the eavesdroppers straining to follow, “he
actually wanted me to live in that dingy old house with the whole bunch of
them. You ought to see his fat old mother. I hope I never turn into something
like that.”
Tears
welled in the old woman’s eyes, reflecting the soft light. Fraser gave her
hands a squeeze first, then let them go and began to stand up. Ma shook her
head violently. He paused, half-raised in his seat, then sank back down
reluctantly.
“I just
need a couple more weeks. Don’t call me. Once I get this marriage stuff settled
we’ll be just like before. I promise.”
“Well,
okay.”
It was
apparent that “Vinnie” was the dominant one in this
relationship. Fraser began to feel just a little sorry for Carol. If he were
ever able to talk to her alone, he would encourage her to stand up for herself
and not let Vincenza take advantage of her.
“Come on,
let’s dance,” Vincenza purred. “I want to hold you in
my arms right now. Come on, honey.”
Fortunately,
the women were sitting closer to the dance floor than Ma and Fraser. They
didn’t have to pass the table where the old woman and the younger man had been
sitting listening. Vincenza and Carol got up together
and went arm in arm to the dance floor.
“What do we
do now?” Ma whispered, wiping the wetness from her eyes and trying to get down
to business.
“We’ll get
Ray here to confront her. I think these two are going to be here for a while.
Hurry home and get him.” Fraser reached for his Stetson for some taxi money.
But Ma wasn’t watching him. She was watching Vincenza
and Carol dance a slow dance, their arms wrapped tightly around each other.
When Vincenza’s back was turned Ma ran out of the
bar, leaving Fraser impressed by the speed at which she moved for a woman of her
size. The adrenaline rush of a mother protecting her young, he decided. Ray’s
lucky to have her for a mother.
Vincenza
scorns poor Ma and I’m so fond of her, Fraser thought as he sat in the booth.
He had to keep watch to make sure Vincenza, a.k.a. Vinnie, didn’t leave the building but that was all he could
do for the moment. If Ray were my husband, Ma would be my mother-in-law, he
mused. I could live in the house with
Ray and all the family and be one of them. Everything that duplicitous woman
despises – I want for myself.
He chided
himself for his selfishness. This isn’t about me. It’s about saving Ray from a
horrible fate. Stupid to imagine myself living with Ray. How would we explain
to Maria’s children that Uncle Ray and Uncle Benito sleep in the same bed?
It was well
into the wee hours and there was very little traffic to slow Ma down. Fraser
was still deep in thought when, twenty minutes later, the customers of The
Church Club were subjected to the sight of yet another mixed couple coming
through the door. Many of the regulars
knew Vinnie. The loud, unpleasant scene between her
and that Italian guy was talked about for weeks afterward.
===============================
Ray didn’t
go so far as to actually cancel their regular Tuesday lunch, although Fraser
wished he had.
Ray was
genetically wired to be incapable of being angry at his mother, so Fraser took
the brunt of his wrath. Fraser knew it was only displaced anger at “Vinnie” and at himself for being taken in. He also knew
that someday Ray would realize this. But until that time came, Ray was
determined to make his Canadian friend suffer.
Ray drove
them to a diner. “So you can have what you want and I can have what I want,” he
spat out, not looking at Fraser.
Having
lunch together and refusing to look at or talk to his Mountie friend except for
mundane matters involving the ordering, consumption and paying for of food was
worse punishment than outright rudeness.
And here I
was thought that once Vincenza was gone, I would be
able to tell him how much I love him. The more fool I, eh?
Fraser
ordered chicken fingers, not trusting himself to be able to eat anything
messier lest his trembling hands drop sauce or cheese all over his uniform. By
constantly repeating to himself “I am a Mountie” he worked up the courage to
speak.
“Ray, about
what you said in car. About ‘what I want’ . . . “
“Don’t tell
me anything, just eat, okay. I know what you wanted and I know what Ma wanted.
Fine, Vincenza’s history. You got what you want so be
happy and leave me alone.”
Fraser
‘screwed his courage to the sticking point’ and plunged ahead. “I didn’t get
what I want, Ray. I think I . . . I mean I’m pretty sure I . . . “
“What!” Ray
barked.
Fraser had
to actually close his eyes so that he didn’t have to look at Ray as he said,
“I. Wanted. You. For. Myself.” He sagged, the enormity of finally saying the
words pressing down upon him. “I know this is the wrong time and I know you
hate me right now. But I love you, Ray. The thought of seeing you ruin your
life when I know I could make you happy. I couldn’t stand it.”
Ray had
been on the last bite of his lasagna when Fraser said this. His choice of food
had also been very deliberate – he was punishing his mother in absentia by
eating lasagna made by somebody else. At the Mountie’s
revelation, Ray’s mouth dropped open and bits of sauce and half-chewed pasta
dribbled out onto his chin.
“Benny,” he
said, too liquidly for Fraser to be able to interpret his feelings from the way
he spoke the word. “Benny,” he repeated.
“Yes, Ray?”
Also without feeling, waiting to follow Ray’s lead.
Ray dropped
his head into his hands. Fraser heard tiny grunts, not quite sobs, coming from
his friend. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you make me keep on looking for
women?”
“I never
made you look for women Ray.”
“I know,
Benny, I know. You didn’t make me. I couldn’t tell you what I was feeling. I
was afraid of what you’d say. I was afraid of what Ma would say.”
The die
being thus cast, Fraser dared to reach over and touch his friend. He picked up
a paper napkin from the table and wiped Ray’s chin. Ray grabbed Fraser’s hand
and clutched it, close to his mouth, then brought the captive hand to rest
against his lips. He kissed the Mountie’s hand gently
then let it go.
The couple sitting
at the table nearest to them stiffened with horror, but neither Ray nor Fraser
had awareness of their surroundings or how they looked to others.
“Why do you
think I wanted a wife, Benny? It was you I wanted and I was so ashamed. Do you
get what I’m telling you?”
“You wanted
to use Vincenza the same way she wanted to use you.
As a cover.”
“I’m a
louse. I know that. But how can I tell Ma I love another man. It’d kill her.”
Fraser’s
eyes clouded with tears. “Ma already knows how much I love you. I don’t think
it’ll be too much of stretch for her to believe you love me back.”
“You . . .
you love me?”
“Always have,
ever since the first day, Detective Armani.”
Ray sniffed
loudly and wiped his eyes with a napkin. Unfortunately it was the same napkin
Fraser had used to wipe Ray’s mouth, leaving a smear of red sauce on Ray’s
eyelids and brow. Fraser shook his head in gentle dismay and dipped the end of
a clean napkin into his water glass. He cleaned Ray’s lovely face then crumpled
both soiled napkins into his plate so that Ray would not pick them up again.
“You know,
I like it, hearing you call her ‘Ma’.”
They sat
gazing at each other and trying not to cry too obviously in public.
“God, these
women! They’re like to destroy us! Vincenza!
Victoria! What were we thinking?”
“Veni, vidi, vici,”
said Fraser, under his breath, pronouncing the last word “vicky”.
“What?”
“Latin my
grandmother taught me. Julius Caesar. I came, I saw, I conquered.”
“I know
Latin, Mister Knows-A-Gazillion-Languages. You’re pronouncing it wrong. It’s ‘vee-chee” not
“vicky”.
“Not the
way my grandmother taught it. It’s definitely ‘Vicky’,”
Ray was
going to remonstrate further, than caught on to what Fraser was saying. “Vinnie. Vicky. They
almost conquered us didn’t they?”
“Almost,”
Fraser agreed. “Almost.”
End.