10 comments/ 15043 views/ 6 favorites Tony's Tale Ch. 01 By: apollona Dear reader, I'm trying to learn how to put my thoughts into writing. I hope you enjoy. Copyright, Apollona Part One I pushed past my front door and sensed that all was not good and well within casa de Xendos. Two unfamiliar vehicles parked in my driveway were the first clue. The fact that the door was swinging ajar also figured into this equation. I walked slowly down the long corridor and I mused on the fact that my security system had not alerted me. I almost expected the scene playing out behind The Door That Must Never Be Opened. It was not shut tight. The noises that emanated from there were not the kind of noises one would expect to hear in the middle of the day while the master and sole occupant of the home was not present. I recognised my new darling Christine's voice in the throng of heaving, grunting and howling, but I couldn't recognise the male noises. Plural. I made out at least two different voices, possibly three not including my girlfriend's squeals of delight. This could potentially be upsetting to the average Joe, but I sensed that given what I've been through in the last few years, I would take this in my stride. About eighteen years into my relationship with my wife, cancer claimed her. The fight was short though incredibly vicious. It only lasted four months. As a matter of fact she died while in my arms, on the bed that lies beyond The Door That Must Never Be Opened. The army of specialists that examined and tested her decided that little could be done to save her. She wanted to go in an environment of her choosing. She chose home. Helen was the centre of my world, my best friend, and most loyal ally. Our time together was precious. We argued fiercely but we understood that if we were to be together, we needed to be a team in everything we did. Once we resolved our disagreements, they never needed to be revisited. If I bent over for her, she made damn sure that nothing got poked up my ass. We had each other's back. Her demise left me broken. The darkness surrounded me like a warm cloak and remained my stifling companion for a long while. There was a serrated edge to the way I dealt with people. I was cold to anyone who cared to approach me. Often, particularly with those I loved, I would simply get up and quietly move away. Violence brewed just under the surface of my skin. I could feel it crawl around in there like an infestation, searching for a route to expose itself. It was my friend Peter and his wife Vanessa who helped me start to emerge from my long cold winter. Peter put in many hours - occasionally he would talk, but mostly he surrounded me with ease, in companionable quiet. For this alone I could never repay him. We've known each other most of our lives, our friendship born out of our common dislike of a Primary School teacher we shared when we were pre-teens. She had a particular interest in me as she was a close friend of my mothers. This close scrutiny always put a real crimp on my wanting to play ball with the other kids during lessons. No truancy for me. This teacher had an even greater interest in Peter as she took him home with her every night, along with her daughter, Peter's older sister. Mums can be very embarrassing at that age. It was during these formative years that she introduced us both to the sifu across the road from our school that ran classes teaching various styles of kung-fu. The passion Pete and I developed for this sport remained with us for the rest of our lives. I think Pete's mum just needed to know where we were while she was grading papers after school. When Vanessa would turn up she would frown at my pathetic domestic attempts, and often take over many of the duties my wife used to perform. She cleaned my house, she made me food and she stayed with me while I ate and talked about nothing. I think back on these times when I need to remember the selflessness and good things some humans are capable off. A year into my mourning, on a clear and crisp Autumn Tuesday morning a speeding WRX Impreza struck Pete from behind. They took him to Canterbury Hospital, a few kilometres down the road. I got the call from Vanessa, her tone frantic and dispersed with sudden loud silences where she was attempting to hold it together between sobs. As I drove, I felt a familiar cold emptiness progressively consume me; Vanessa did advise me to be prepared for the worst. I'm not aware of the expression on my face, but I knew that people were giving me a very wide berth all the way to his ward. Friends and family who gathered outside the room fell silent when they noticed my approach. I stood at the entry, but I remained still for a moment. My head a mess, I knew I needed to pull myself together. This time, I had to be the strong one for someone else. This time someone other than me was going to hurt, and this person is going to need me more than I needed myself. I steeled myself for the final approach and it was not good. Peter was a mess, barely cognisant and obviously a goner. Suspicious looking devices were making those ominous sounds familiar to me through watching hospital scenes at the movies. So many machines, cables and tubes. Vanessa stood by his side, and their teenage son Steph sat nearby with his head down. He looked up at me and gave me a weak smile, which quickly faded when he followed my gaze toward his father. Vanessa was calm now, but with one look into her eyes I could see her screaming inside. She came to me where I stood and for the first time I can remember since learning of my Helen's illness, I felt an absolute terror for someone else. She clung to me, as if my strength could somehow help Peter. Peter made a gurgling kind of noise, which brought us out of our shared misery and I could see him looking into my eyes. He cleared his throat then, and spoke softly. "Couldn't wait till I'm gone before you tried to seduce my wife, eh?" I responded the only way I knew how. "Well I felt it was high time she finally got to feel what it's like to be with a real man." "Oh. So what's she doing with you?" "Enjoying the ultimate experience man." "Huh! Fuck off, Gaylord." "Loser." "Butter boy." "Softcock." I paused here, we were both smiling. The silence deepened. "Why did you go and get yourself all broken up for man?" I asked, the humour dwindling away, and a terrible sense of finality settling into the exchange. "Someone had to slow that little shithead down," he replied, no longer expecting a laugh from anyone. He looked at his wife, smiled and nodded to her. She moved to take her son's hand and lead him out of the private room. When the door closed, he began. "I don't have a lot of time Tony, so I've got to ask you to do me a huge favour." "Do I even need to respond?" "No, I know you'll do it. Just like I know you'll occasionally drop in on my family and make sure they're doing okay. You know how they feel about you, make yourself at home, and just be ... yourself." "Pete, I'm a little pissed that you think you even have to ask me this..." "Whoa boy, slow down, I haven't gotten to the favour yet." His eyes glinted mischievously. "What I'd like from you, is that you just start living again man. It's really important to me." At this I broke down. I couldn't hold it back any more. I stood at the edge of the bed, and lost it. "Come on Tony, there's no time for all this, come here, give me a hug and go call my wife. I think it's time..." It shattered me to lose another person so dear to me. I was surprised to find I had the capacity to grieve all over again. But I took Peters words to heart, and practically moved into Vanessa's home. I stayed there whenever I had nothing planned, and even broke arrangements with people, sometimes even family, if I felt that either she or her son required support during a low ebb for them. I understood the grieving process and knew that there would be good days and then there would be bad days. This is just how it was. In a way Vanessa had a tool that helped her immensely I believe, in her son. Steph was a great kid hurtling towards adulthood, but with a strength rarely encountered in teenagers. His father taught him well. I sat with them many nights watching TV, playing ball with Steph or just chatting with Vanessa. I found myself spending an inordinate amount of time and effort in making her laugh. It became the highlight of my day to see her soft gentle smile. I knew that the wolves would be out soon, not too many men could resist the face of an angel. After five minutes in her company, it was impossible not to be enchanted. She exuded a sense of confidence and style that appeared unconscious yet natural. She was the original 'yummy mummy' and had the kind of beauty that took my breath away. Medium height, dirty blond hair and green eyes. Curves that even after twenty years and a teenage son, still sent any male nearby on a head spin. The woman was sheer poetry. But Vanessa was a smart girl who could look after herself. She didn't need me to protect her but she knew that if she needed anything she could count on my support. I tried hard to fulfil my promise to Peter. I started going out, clubbing and immersing myself in booze and women, although these days it took me a bit longer to recover, at least I was doing what everyone was telling me I should be doing. Getting out there and living again. Funnily enough the only people that never offered an opinion on me behaving like a stupid teenager were mine and Peter's family. My own brothers were beginning to call me an alcoholic and in a way I felt my behaviour was taking me further away from Helen and Peter instead of bringing me closer to them. I needed to expand on my hobbies. So I allowed myself to rediscover a diversion Peter and I had shared many years ago; building and racing muscle cars. I had purchased a six speed Gen III 5.7 Litre Commodore SS and wanted to do a little work on it. This is where it started again for me. In the old days, we spent a disgraceful amount of money on all our favourite Fords and Holdens, and we were heavily into the street race scene before there was anywhere the average rev-head could go and legally race. I especially had a passion for the old Ford XD and XE ESP, and absolutely loved the 5.8 litre Cleveland block. It was so easy to work on and pulled excellent times down the standing quarter. A 671 blower just added to the allure and mystique. It also guaranteed to take at least a second or two off my times. I'm not willing to go into the details of the damage those things did to my bottom ends, suffice as to say, I disintegrated several motors... I didn't discriminate between FMX (or C4) or Top Loader gear boxes, each had their application. I loved them both. In fact Peter and I once owned a couple of identical sky blue XD ESP's, where I was running a tricked up FMX with a stage six shift kit through it, and Peter was running with a top loader. The motors and the rest of the running gear were exactly the same, as we were buying all the parts two at a time to try and save a few bucks. The only differences were always the ratio's we were running, experimenting with highway gears or street 'n' strip. We had the best of both worlds. I remember after getting my baby on the road when Pete thought he'd be a hero, and took it for a rap. He pumped up the stall and let rip out of the driveway. He later told me the monster was revving to eight grand and getting there so quick, he barely had time to correct the car before needing to shift into second and then third. It was like the car was on ice all the way down the road. He came back white faced, and loving the combination of FMX shift with 3/5 ratios in the arse end. That was a Kodak moment, and there I was without a camera. If we needed to get a little serious, we'd swap those ratios for 4/11 and watch the front end launch off the ground. Like I said, lots of fun. A ridiculous waste of money, with never a hope of recouping it, but we were young and stupid, and lived for the day. This time round though, I had the money to burn, with no debts to speak of. The boys in the workshop talked me into getting one of their young blokes to work on my motor, who was it seemed, a bit of a genius with the Gen III motors. Jerry assured me that with a bit of his love on the camshaft, some extensive exhaust work, and a serious chat with the computer, he could get my toy to run 10s at the Creak. Without the bottle. With the laughing gas, I could apparently shave off another second or two. I was dubious off course, but he assured me that the Yanks got it pretty right with the Gen III and that it was a tough little motor that could take a fair amount of punishment. He did state though that a lot of his previous efforts revolved around getting the cam right. I was intrigued enough to agree to part with several gorillas that were sitting around in my bank account doing nothing, and told him to go for his life. His response to me was a lopsided grin, and he threw his keys at me telling me to take his Monaro for a rap. "I'm building your motor the same as mine. Have a feel of what you'll be driving in a couple of days. Remember though, you break it, you own it." The Monaro drove like a dream. It was a slightly different configuration to mine in that it was a two door coupe. But after just a moment behind the wheel, I felt like I was home. Familiar, but new. There is something quite exhilarating about driving a monster on the road that has the potential to lose traction in every gear. People could hear me coming and would I always look for their reaction. I quickly fell back into this routine. Some people would look, and think that I'm just another hoon, driving something that shouldn't be on the streets. Others would think I'm a show off, just out trying to impress. I've even seen people react with resentment towards a driver of such a car. Results of a bad experience I suppose. But there is a group of people that will instantly recognise the kind of beast under my control. This is the group I always look for. And if they happen to be in their own toys at the same time ... well, you know. I returned to the workshop and told Jerry I was impressed and that I was looking forward to getting mine back finished. He gave me his trademark smirk and a nod. A few months down the track found me with a brand new girlfriend, someone who I decided I would slow down a little with. She was wild, spectacularly gorgeous, fun loving and was hated by everyone in my family who met her. Enter Christine. If my people were unhappy with her, Vanessa and Steph were unreservedly hostile. I couldn't see why since I'm pretty sure it was clear to those that knew me that I wouldn't get too serious with her. Suddenly I had words thrown around me that sounded like "slut", "gold-digger", "poutana" and "whore". I never said anything about it because I guess I kind of agreed with them. I was just trying to get familiar enough with someone to be able to spend a whole night together and not wake up pre-dawn screaming my wife's name. Why Christine latched onto me was another one of life's curious anomalies. I simply don't know. I'm fairly wealthy in my own right, but I take care not to advertise. I don't really throw money around unless it's on the SS, and even that is never on display unless I'm with the boys. With them, my ride is just another muscle car. My house is rather modest, a normal suburban home. I don't wear jewellery. I'm certainly no Adonis, but I guess I must hold my own. It must have been my sterling personality so often displayed. That was a joke. I still had problems opening up to people. I could see how some people would take my reserved nature and mistaken it for shyness. This would only change if I was really, really drunk. I was always a happy drunk, so maybe she thought I would be that funny when I was sober over the long run. So my life now had some sort of order to it, with minimal chaos thrown in to keep things interesting. Vanessa slowly seemed to be emerging from her depression little by little, but then again she always was very good at bottling her emotions. I was still going there a few times a week, and I could always get Steph to fill me in on what was going on if she was not in too talkative a mood. I would even take him on a cruise occasionally, and the rest of the guys took to him like a little brother. Naturally Vanessa frowned deeply at this, and always made me promise her I wouldn't do anything stupid in the car while he was with me. --Then she'd try to get me to promise the same thing if I was alone. Hehe, she never got that one. The problem with ALL of this though, was that I still knew on a profound level, my mind was still on a kind of cruise-control. I wasn't fully in charge of myself like I had been before Helen went away. It was almost as though I was passing through a thick fog, and nothing really penetrated. This vaguely concerned me. It was funny that I could sense this and be aware all the time, but not have the power to do anything about it. Sort of like astral travel. I think that of all the people around me, only Vanessa could see this, and she tried so hard to encourage me back in to control. My wife had an amazing talent. In those early days, I was always on a roller coaster of emotions that permeated every aspect of my life. From business, to family, to friends. No matter what the surroundings, I was always very happy, very sad, very angry, or very melancholy. No matter what, the word 'very' had to precede my every mood and emotion. My wife's special talent lay in being able to surround me with peace, no matter the mood. I never was able to find another person who had such a total mastery of my senses. She made me happy. Every Wednesday was race day at Eastern Creek. This particular Wednesday was no different. I did feet that something was a little off. Nothing I could put a finger to, but the feeling hung around like a bad smell. Work was normal, and I left early as became my habit on Wednesdays, to put on the slicks, get the beast on the trailer, meet up with the boys, and tow it to the Creek. Behind the wheel waiting at the tree, the signal was given to warm up the tyres. I decided on a little show, and laid a figure eight today. Lotsa fun. Anyway, I lined her up and waited for the Christmas tree to do its thing. She got bent out of shape off the line, but by the time I clicked second, she was firmly under hand. The sudden jar to the left could only be caused by the feel of it by a blown tyre. Front tyre. Shit. Ouch. I was probably doing about 200 clicks at the time, but due to the angle I hit the middle wall, I was lucky enough to get away with a mildly sprained ankle. My baby though was not so lucky. 100k plus, down the drain ... insurance was not going to cover this. Oh well, too bad, so sad. The following Saturday was my brother Tom's birthday party, to be held at my parents' place, so that there would be heaps of room for all the kids to run rampant together on neutral territory. I prudently decided not to bring Christine, and so I turned alone up with a slight limp and lots of sweets for the kids. I was greeted by my two beautiful nieces, aged five and three. They claimed ownership of me, jumped on me, and tore at me in their playful way, and it was with their delightful cackling ringing in my ears that I picked myself off the floor, and headed towards the house proper. I was only a couple of feet from the door when Vanessa came storming out and faced me with her green eyes flashing, lips pursed tightly and teeth grinding. Her jaw was set and she was displaying a kind of fury I had never seen on her before. She slapped me, hard. Then she did it again. Tony's Tale Ch. 01 I knew better than to flinch, and I could see that this was no jest. She was seriously pissed. I could see my whole family in the background just watching, obviously not willing to interfere. I could sense that I was in big trouble, but I was not entirely sure what it was that I'd done. She stood looking at me for another moment in silence before she began. "You bastard." She hissed, "you promised me that it was safe. You promised you arsehole." I had a feeling this might be about the crash on Wednesday, but as a male, I'm not always too good with clues. "How dare you do this to me?" She began sobbing now. "You said it was safe, and I believed you, so where is your fucking car? Don't bother explaining, I just saw the video!" She was crying now in earnest. "Ness, it's not as bad as it looked." "I don't fucking care," she screamed. "You know how I lost Peter..." She punched my shoulder hard and seemed unable to stop hitting me. I caught her in a bear hug, and held her tight, as she continued for a moment to struggle before she collapsed into me. In a haze I looked up and saw my father watching me with a frown, I knew he thought she was right. By the time the children came out of their shock at seeing Aunt Vanessa berate their uncle Tony, she seemed to have recovered from her fit of pique and we all collapsed together onto the concrete floor, giggling and tickling the little ones and each other. The look my mother gave me as she made it her business to walk past right then, made it really obvious that if Vanessa was not there today to put me in my place, she would have gone to town on me. Have you ever seen a furious Greek mother letting go with both barrels at her firstborn son when he's done something to seriously displease her? Let me inform those that have never witnessed such a spectacle. It hurts. A lot. Both physically, and psychologically. Now to find the prick that took the video and hid the fact from me. Then, bought said video here to share with everyone except me. I needed to string the fucker up by the balls, and use him as a punching bag. Of course, no one would own up to it. Some of my long time mates, a few of which were at the Creek on Wednesday were at the barbeque, but they all swore they knew nothing of the video. I might have believed them if they weren't all grinning like idiots. Tough love? I don't know. I guess I couldn't really blame them as I did take the sport up with the determination and passion of a new initiate. You know full bore till something gives. Well it gave, and I received so I guess my racing days are now behind me. Not that I was that good at it. It was just something that helped me to feel something. I found I liked feeling stuff, even if it was fear; it helped me understand that I was still alive. I would have to look for a new hobby now. The gang staging this intervention, while unnecessary, were just demonstrating their way of making a point. Racing was nice, but they wanted me to know that I didn't have to always push everything to breaking point. Clearly they thought I was beginning to take the kind of risks that could not be justified so they did what they thought was right. And that was to show Vanessa the video. They could have just talked to me. So there I was walking down the hallway of my supposedly empty house a few days later, to the sound of my old bed head banging against the wall. How many times would Helen and I have made that exact same racket while in the heat of the moment? In a disconnected section of my mind, it occurred to me that the joists and the bearers may need packing again. The squeaks from the floorboards really sounded annoying. I pushed the door open and took a peek. Four of them going at it like a scene from a poorly directed porno movie, on Helens side of the bed. The fluid grace you would find in a scene on one of the better quality porno movies was lacking here. They all just seemed like base animals, quickly humping, slaves to their individual satisfaction. Christine was the first to notice me, and her eyes went wide. She seemed to struggle with removing the cock that was lodged deeply down her throat. The owner of the cock didn't seem pleased at her efforts to eject him, so he grabbed her head harder and shoved himself deeper. The guys in her pussy and in her arse remained oblivious until I made the gratuitous "toot toot" sound from my vantage point in the doorway. All motion ceased. "Get out." I said quietly. "Baby, it's not what it looks like," She really did put the effort in to sound sincere I thought. Impressive, but this was definitely one of those situations where it was pretty much what it looked like. "I don't care sweetie," I replied. This only confused her, as if she didn't usually get an indifferent response to this kind of behaviour. Obviously, she's been here before. "Why don't you just wait your fucking turn, wimp?" Ahh, the alpha male. Big, bald, heavily tattooed, Italian looking. I didn't respond verbally, just hunched my shoulders, eyes cast down before slowly approaching him in the most unthreatening manner I could. If all went to plan his guard would not go up, and my 'sorry I walked in on you sir' routine would belay any action until I was close enough. It seemed to have worked, as he actually started humping into Christine again. The others took this as a sign that he was firmly in control, and made a start towards resuming. Christine threw me a look of contempt. They should have been preparing to fight. Oh well. As far as I was concerned they were all idiots. Did they suppose that I was going to play fair? In my own house? With people I didn't invite? Fucking on a bed I made explicitly clear no-one was to go near? The guys may not have known, but Christine certainly did. Alpha Boy may have felt the first blow to his head, but I doubt he felt the kick to his ribs that knocked him out. Being the one deeply embedded in Christine's arse, doggy style he was the easiest to get to. The gorilla whose tool her mouth enveloped was clearly the next choice, as he thought he could be free of her in time to assume a guarded stance. It didn't make a difference. Thirty years of hard personal training, and two to three thousand odd years of technique development in China ensured that the speedy snap kick to his left knee, followed by a hard overhead right to his temple, would render him useless. Lover boy underneath Christine was by now free, but he seemed keen to avoid violence of any kind and just started apologising. He was a lover not a fighter ... it was pathetic, so I held up my hand in the universal sign indicating stop. Christine was starting to look a tiny bit horrified. "I don't want to hear it fuckwit." I said. "What I want, is for all of you -this nice young lady included, to be out of my house in twenty minutes. I will have returned by then, and I won't be alone." I reached down to each of the pants I found scattered around the bedroom and removed the driver's licence belonging to all of them. I threw the wallets to the floor, and made a show of holding up each piece of plastic. "I know who you are now. Don't make me come looking for you," I turned to leave, then paused at the doorway. "This is your only warning." I drove to my brother Con's house and sat with his family and played with his daughters for a while. I didn't mention anything to him, as he tended to be quite hot headed, so this was just a normal visit. I couldn't allow myself the time to think of the devastation I could feel coming. Losing Christine was not going to be the end of my universe. I was much more worried about what was going to happen in light of opening of the Door That Must Never Be Opened. A little while later I borrowed my brother, not bothering to offer any explanation and made my way home. The dumb bitch was still there. Alone. I had realised as I played with Con's kids earlier that I did recognise the gangsters Christine had invited over. Their underboss was a very close friend of mine and Peter's. I might just mention it to him in passing the next time I see him in a few days. I told Con that everything seemed in order after doing a quick inspection of the house, and sent him home. I decided to go easy on her, as she really didn't matter anymore. I didn't want to flog a dead horse so to speak. She mistook my silence for regret maybe, and decided to go into damage control mode. "Baby, that meant nothing to me. I was just letting off some steam you know? And I thought it would be a bit of harmless fun. I didn't mean to hurt you. I realise now, that I really do love you, and I'm prepared to stop doing this, if you want us to get serious, and maybe take our relationship to the next level." "Okay." I replied. "But what made you think it was alright to use that room, and that bed?" I wanted to understand her mindset, what possible reason —excuse anyway, she had to justify her actions. "Well," she still hadn't realized that whatever she said then would be irrelevant. She would soon though. "I didn't think you were using it, and I didn't want to use the bed you and I use. I know you never wanted anyone to go in there, but I did want us to be reasonably comfortable this afternoon without disturbing the rest of the house. Frankly, I couldn't see the big deal. We didn't break anything ... did I do bad?" I could see that she was getting cute now, her defiance, which I used to think of as endearing, was beginning to grate on my nerves. This girl —woman, thought so little of anyone else, that she felt totally justified in doing what she was doing 'as long as no one got hurt.' I sighed deeply, and calmly allowed my gaze to settle on her. She didn't like what she saw in my eyes. She started to get a clearer picture now of what I really thought of her, I could see her hands start to fidget. She experienced difficulty in meeting my stare. Her own eyes became glassy. I had what I wanted from her then, but I remained silent a little longer, waiting for the twitch that indicated she was about to lose it before I continued quietly. "You do realize that you've killed them don't you?" I don't think she was capable of any response at this stage, she was just trying to take this all in. "Probably tomorrow or the next day, Joey, the guy your friends work for, will want to deal with those fuckwits personally. I always liked Joey, because he insisted on remaining a 'hands-on' kind of guy, even as he was moving up in the ranks." Leaning back into my couch I Looked up at the ceiling. I was reminiscing, and no longer cared if Christine stayed or left. Cried or laughed. Lived or died. Did I give her a glimpse of what her future had in store for her? It was all the same to me. "We grew up as kids living next door to one another. He loved my wife dearly, and told me repeatedly that she was the best thing that ever happened to me. "We used to sit in his mum's kitchen for hours at a time talking about different kinds of food, me being Greek, my wife being French and Joey Italian. Fuck, when we all got together, the food that came out of that kitchen became legendary in the neighbourhood. Great times." I sat up a bit and coldly looked her square in the eyes. "Now, how do you think he's going to respond when I tell him that a couple of his uninvited goons were rutting my alleged girlfriend on my departed wife's side of the bed?" I disinterestedly watched as she got up fast, with an alarmed look on her face and bolted to the bathroom. I heard her being sick in there, but by then I really couldn't give a fuck. Tony's Tale Ch. 02 Second and final part to Tony's Tale, I hope you enjoy. Copyright, Apollona My detached disposition stayed with me until late the next Friday night. I sat on my lounge eating a pasta bake Vanessa dropped off earlier, and stared blankly at a little sign I erected over the archway to the kitchen that depicted the three little piggies in front of their brick house, wearing beanies, smoking rollies and each smirking defiantly. A caption underneath read 'So it aint home sweet home. Adjust.' I was unexpectedly surprised by Joey's sudden appearance. He always had a habit of coming through the back of the house like we used to when we were kids. He invited himself into my house, and before acknowledging me, he made his way to the bar as was his habit and poured a couple of stiff drinks from my collection of Johnny Walker — the Blue Label stuff I kept around for guests. Typical. He handed me my drink, we clinked glasses and silently nodded in respect to absent friends. Joey was very close to Pete and I, considered us brothers. He used to brag too much when we were young and stupid and thought himself our protector on the streets. The reality was slightly different; we had to bail him out a few times when his big mouth got him into strife. This was in the days before his current affiliations, and since then he obviously learned to keep his mouth shut. The moment passed and Joey returned to his usual charming self. "Testa di cazzo, finocchio" What the fuck, faggot. His standard greeting in Italian. "Ai gamisou, malaka" Go fuck yourself, wanker, my response in Greek. It was a tradition, or an old charter or something.Thank you Robert Rankin "Ness been around today?" He asked eyeing the remainder of the pasta. He picked up my used fork and started digging in. What a pig. "If you had any brains you fucking gaylord, you'd ask that bitch to marry you. What's wrong with you, don't cha like girls anymore?" "I like girls plenty shit for brains; I'm just not going to mess with her." "Shut the fuck up stronzo, who do you think you're talking to? I'm telling you, pull yourself together, and ask her. She's so hooked on you, she even refused a date with me!" "Ha! Fucking loser, what makes you think Vanessa would have anything to do with a fucking Mafioso wannabe? You've got to have skillz to be with a woman like that! Besides, Teresa would rip your head off." "Fuck off!" He said conveniently ignoring the reference to his wife. "She gets wet when she sees me, she just feels sorry for you..." "Oh?" I cut in. I didn't like where this was going. "Okay, I'm sorry man, it kinda came out all wrong. No offence to you and your loss, or to her and hers. Just trying to lighten the mood a little, eh? "Yeah, I know. I should know better." "That's right. You should." He broke into a huge grin. "You should have seen the crazy look you just had in your eye just then. All twitching and shit, were you gonna go all Wu Tang on me or something?" He started laughing then, slapping his knee. "Fuck off, I don't project." Indignant outrage. "You do so! I know you. I could see it!" "Okay, let's dance, bitch." "You gonna get all Ching Chong on me, and do that kung fu shit you pretend you know?" "What's the matter, are you actually scared of a man without a gun?" "I'm scared of no man. You on the other hand..." "Ok, here we go. This conversation gets more and more boring every time." His laughter faded somewhat, but he continued eating. "You know, you messed my boys up pretty bad the other day." He was chewing the food like a cow, mouth open, bits of pasta flying everywhere. But this conversation was getting interesting, as I hadn't yet told him about Christine's adventures. "Too bad neither made it out of the hospital. I had to find the last one at home." Joey cleaned his mouth with a napkin and continued with a serious look on his face. "Your brother Con came and saw me, after your little ... incident." He took a swig of his glass before continuing. "I'm glad he came to me first. That way they got off easy. Nice, clean and quick. Although, I don't think I've ever seen him quite so pissed before. Now he's a Greek boy I really wouldn't want to mess with. But you can't call him Con the Greek. It sounds gay. Nick the Greek sounds cool though, you got any relatives named Nick?" "Joey, stop fucking around will ya? What do you mean he came to see you? How the fuck did he know what happened?" "I told you before, you do project." He smirked. "Nah, he knew there was something pretty wrong when he came here with you the other day when your little girlfriend was by herself and you asked him to look around the house with you. So, he hunted her down that night and got her to talk." Shit. "Oh for fucks sake, are you for real?" "Yeah, once he knew what to look for, it became easy. Process of elimination. Like I said, I'm glad he came to me first. He was planning some really nasty shit. I convinced him in the end to keep his nose clean, 'cause they were my boys and therefore my responsibility." He became serious again and looked at me imploringly. "Tony, I promised you all a long time ago that I would never let my business interfere with our relationship. Inadvertently, it has now, and I apologize most sincerely. Those three have been taken care of in the old way, but unless you stop me, I'm going to have a little talk with the puttana that caused all this as well." "Come on Joey," I waived my hand in dismissal. "What, are you pretending to be educated now? Inadvertently? have you been studying the dictionary or something? Leave her be. Stupid slut regrets it now, but really, she's irrelevant. She just doesn't matter mate. Forget her." "Ok, but say the word and she disappears. I do feel partly responsible for what happened, but what do you expect, you were goin' out with such a porca puttana. Were you expecting love stories or what?" "Nah, wasn't expecting anything at the time, just a little mindless diversion for a while." "Some diversion." He finished his drink and made his way over to the bar. He picked up the bottle he cracked open just a few minutes ago and shot me his trademark smirk. He bought it over to the lounge and set it in the middle of the coffee table. "Let's finish this bottle eh? I hear this stuff spoils if you don't drink it in the one sitting and it would be such a criminal waste." How many times have we each used that line while raiding each other's drinks cabinets? "There is something else I wanted to talk to you about that's a little more serious." Joey was making me nervous now, because he was acting nervous. Joey doesn't get nervous. "My new barrister wants to meet you." Something about the way he said that annoyed me. It was obvious he was hiding something, but I didn't want to play the game, so I remained silent. Waiting for him to explain. It took him a full minute before he realized I wasn't going to interrupt and ask all the stupid questions he usually gets when he tries to bait someone. So he reluctantly continued without his usual air of superiority. "I met her, a couple of days ago while she was working on a business case for me. I was stunned, and had no idea who she was when I first saw her." "So? What's the mystery? She's just a lawyer right? Why the drama? What does she want with me?" "The only way to answer that is if you allow me to arrange the meeting. I just want to tell you straight off, that she knows nothing about anything." "Then why..." "There are no answers I can give you at all that'll mean anything to you. You just have to trust me and meet her. I only met her through our normal legitimate business routines. She knows nothing about you or even me for that matter, but I knew instantly when I saw her that you two need to meet. That's all I can say. Are you busy tomorrow?" The next day, late in the afternoon, my doorbell rang and I got up to answer the call. I instantly understood Joey's reluctance to talk the previous night once the front door was opened and I stepped back. She took a step forward. It was a vision of Helen standing in my vestibule. The similarities were uncanny. The long raven hair, the bright grey/blue eyes, the five foot seven frame. The facial features were stunning, just like my Helen before the illness. Her luscious thick lips with the familiar perfect white teeth produced a smile so dazzling, I had to force myself to breathe. Her figure was just as I remembered, but it couldn't be. Celine Only someone with Helen's genetic makeup could look so much like her, and I knew that this person before me was her twin sister, Celine. The black sheep of the family, who left the brood at eighteen to make her way in the world and find herself. Apparently those were her exact words. She only maintained very sporadic contact with the family, and even then only through explosive exchanges with Helen, the last contact being made about four or five years ago. She didn't attend our wedding, missed all the significant events of our families, and was apparently unapologetic about it all. We didn't know what she was doing, how she was going, if she was married, had a family or any of the important details that make up a life. I only barely knew about her as it was a very touchy subject and not one that Helens family was prepared to talk about at any length. Helen herself wanted nothing to do with her, because of her abrupt departure without a word of reasonable explanation to anyone. They were as close as twins could be before Celine bolted. Helen was devastated. I led her to the lounge room. Was it dumb luck or something higher that guided her directly to the sofa Helen loved to sit in? She took off her heels and curled up on the left side of the three seater as if she was Helen herself. That old déjà vu feeling was freaking me out. She couldn't have known about Helens illness, couldn't know about our pain and suffering, our dreams unfulfilled. I sat opposite her in my usual spot. I could feel annoyance building inside me as I began. I could see that she sensed a bit of hostility. "What are you doing here?" "Joe convinced me last week that I had to meet you, but he didn't tell me until an hour ago who you actually are. This is confusing now because he said nothing at all about my sister Helene or Helen as she prefered. I guess I'm here to say hello. I really do want to come home." Her voice sent knives straight through my heart. She sounded just like Helen. "Your timing sucks." "I'm getting that feeling, actually." She looked down not knowing what to expect. I could feel her nervousness, and I could see that she knew nothing of Helens illness yet. She gently rubbed the fingertips of one hand over the fingernails of the other in the same manner Helen would when she was highly agitated or upset. This gesture only annoyed me, almost beyond reason. "What do you want Celine? You're far too late to make a difference to anything remotely significant in our lives, you're a veritable stranger to myself and your entire family and you've spent more years away from them than you have with them and the only reason I haven't kicked you out yet is that you remind me so much of my deceased wife." I hit her pretty hard with that last bit, but I wanted to see a genuine reaction, and I wanted it to be real. I felt that it was the only way I could ascertain what she did or did not know. She started by asking the obvious questions, and then progressed more and more frantically as the story became clearer. Her anger, and fury, disappointment and shame astounded me. This is how Helen would have responded. This could not have been faked, that much was obvious. "I've missed so much. I still don't understand after all these years why I felt I had to leave so long ago. The first few years were the hardest..." "I don't give a fuck Celine. All your shit, you had bought upon yourself. Look around you at the home I shared for eighteen years with someone who always took the harder road and made it work. Someone who missed you so much I heard her lie and say she hated you on an almost weekly basis. Someone who had a beautiful life here and had it wrenched forcefully from her grasp." My voice was rising now and I was moments away from wanting to commit homicide. "She had it all, and you know what? She appreciated it. She was the epitome of the domestic Goddess. She lived and gave. Her time. Her love. Her efforts and consideration. Freely and without reservation. Even now, a few years later, people out there still feel the loss. My whole family included. She was the centre of my world." My hands were trembling, my voice shaky, my throat dry. "You on the other hand, don't exist, why did she die? Why do you still live?" Celine remained silent, shoulders shaking, head down, tears flowing. I don't know what she was thinking but I'm pretty sure she realized that coming to this house was a big mistake. She had no one else from her family to go to now either. Her parents retired and moved back home to Marseille about seven years ago, only returning to visit Helen and myself every year. After Helen, there was nothing left for them here. Eventually I made her a pot of tea and bought out some coffee for myself. I cleaned the ashtray and bought out a fresh packet of smokes. I'd given them up many years ago, but since Helen went away, I found myself with the strongest urge to smoke again and gave myself over to it. Back to a packet a day. Celine poured a second cup of tea for herself. "Why didn't she call me? Did she hate me that much? She's always had my number. I was the one that was always trying to make an effort with her." "I dunno Celine. She always maintained that she hated you, but that was a façade anyone could see through. She was devastated that you left." "I was such a fool; I thought I knew it all, had my life all planned out and now it's too late. I latched onto a guy, and he put me through school, I read law at Sydney Uni. I was able to travel and see the world. I was dumb enough to think and believe that I didn't need anyone else." "Such a cliché. So this whole split thing was about the obtaining of money? Humor me and be brutally honest ok? I don't have the patience to talk to your agent right now. I guess you could probably see that." I was not going to indulge her in a session of self analysis and therapy. If she wanted to talk like Oprah then I would put us both out of our misery by kicking her out and going to bed. "Agreed. I do want to talk." She gave me a sly grin. "I see what Helen meant when she said to me once that you have a tendency to cut through the fluff. So I'm not going to color anything. "Getting back to your question of money, well yes, it was about living the fairy tale existence. I thought by taking emotions out of the equation, finding an appropriate prospect would provide me with a lifestyle that we both used to dream about. I told her back then, that as soon as we have a chance and find someone, we were to go for it. I thought that if I could convince her to come out and visit me once she would see that it wasn't so bad. She would see that we could have everything we ever wanted." "That didn't work." I said. It pissed me off that she wanted to take my Helen away, but I remained quiet on this for the time being. "No. She resisted fiercely, and thought me a whore. I know she would have loved the lifestyle but not at any cost. I suppose that only I hung on to that dream." Celine went back to fidgeting with her fingers. "I'm aware of what I've missed out on but I did occasionally try to come home. I'm not a complete monster. Helen never let me. She always made it very awkward for me; she was quite unreasonable about reconciliation. Then, the more time that went by the harder it became." Bullshit. I didn't think she tried hard enough. As much as she impressed me with her honesty so far, I could feel she was still holding back. Maybe a nudge in the right direction... "Maybe she knew you were full of shit. Maybe she wanted to see you make a real effort. And maybe she wanted to know that effort was genuine." I knew I wasn't being particularly nice, but she had yet to make me care for her. It was becoming increasingly clear with every passing second that this was not Helen in any way. Regardless of how she looked and sounded. She was not Helen. And I was finding comfort in that, and courage. She was an imposter. "I think that the strain you put on that family was a cruelty of the highest order. You may have thought that you had your own life and could do anything you wanted, and that may be true to an extent. But the family unit is not just a bunch of animals that live together with you, raise you, nurture you, guide you and invest in you, to be discarded, tossed aside when something better or just newer comes along. They also don't just give up on its members after a short time either. Maybe it's that kind of dedication that Helen wanted to see from you before she'd allow you to come home and risk hurting her parents again." Celine had closed her eyes and wept quietly while I was speaking my mind. I continued in a softer tone. "Their leaving to go back to Europe was meant as therapy for your mother, who spent her final years in Sydney waiting for your return. When she left she was little more than just a shell of a human being. Maybe that's another reason Helen 'hated' you so much. She could see firsthand the damage a self absorbed daughter could cause a family." By now Celine was a wretched soul slumped on Helens side of the sofa. She was expecting to have something to come home to, a sister, a father and mother. A life she's missed out on. Instead she learns she has nothing. She lifted her moist red eyes to mine. "The horrible thing now is that I miss her and my parents with an ache that I suddenly find crippling. I always knew that I could somehow make my way home and everything would end up ok. It never occurred to me that there would ever be a time where it would be too late, that there wouldn't even be a home to come back to. There was always going to be a tomorrow. Stupid huh?" "Yeah well, best laid plans and all that." "You must hate me right now. How can you stand to even look at me?" I matched her gaze evenly. "It's even harder than you can imagine." I won't say that we became close friends right away, but I think she realized she had a lot of regrets and wanted to go into overdrive to start making up for lost time. She told me a few days later that she's already lost her twin sister, had serious reservations if there would ever be a relationship with her parents, and that her whole life now appeared shallow and empty since our meeting. She could see what she missed out on. I laughed in her face when she told me it was 'all my fault.' If she tackled her professional career the way she came on to my family, then I have no doubt that she'd be an extraordinary lawyer. She installed herself permanently into our regular family rotations, at times forcefully and virtually thrived on the shock factor of suddenly appearing at functions where people didn't know Helen had a twin sister. I was a little apprehensive at first, but then more bemused at her attempts to get everyone involved. She became a regular visitor into my parents' home after turning up one day unexpectedly, and told them everything. I've got to give credit where it's due, and I've got to say, the chick held nothing back. She was absolutely obsessed with learning everything she could about her sister's life. And then she stepped in and started to resume everything Helen used to do within our group. Everything from cooking at functions, to babysitting, to counseling the wives of the group, which would invariably lead to counseling for the husbands. It was the most bizarre few months I've ever lived through. We all took the view though that this was all more about therapy for her than anything else. Tony's Tale Ch. 02 So of course, my parents welcomed her with open arms. The one subject that I got her to agree to was never to discuss or even hint at romance. It was natural I suppose that some people would think that there had to be something going on between us, because she was so much like Helen. The problem as far as I was concerned though, was that she was absolutely nothing like Helen, because where it mattered the most, Celine ran away, Helen did not. To me that meant everything. A hurdle that came up unexpectedly was Vanessa. Her dislike of Celine was almost violent, and became something of a major discomfort for me. She was only hostile towards Celine in front of me and out of earshot from everyone else. Whoever else talked about her was encouraged by Vanessa to go into details, so she always presented a serene and caring front. Even when she was in Celine's presence, she was a sterling example of a warm and caring friend. When we were alone though she refused to hear a single word about her, stating she had more important things to think about than some tramp pretending to be Helen. I would have taken offence, but she really didn't look like she was messing around. Her dislike was real. The one time I tried to coax anything out of Vanessa by insisting she tell me what her problem was, she gave me a funny look, quietly called me a bastard and locked herself in the bathroom to begin her nightly ablutions. Clearly I was dismissed. Steph and I looked at one another in confusion for a moment and shrugged. We went back to playing GTA 4 on his PS3. About six months after Celine's dramatic appearance she called a family meeting at her place, which was a huge penthouse apartment in upscale Rushcutters Bay as she had some sort of announcement to make. We were all invited, from my parents to Vanessa, Joey and my brothers and their wives and kids. We numbered around forty five people, and yet her place still seemed as though it could hold many more. It was massive, with a rooftop terrace that suited our gathering perfectly. Everyone seemed in good spirits, except for Vanessa, who was in a particularly foul mood and was snappy at just about everyone. Even Steph was not immune to her considerable ire. He found shelter behind me, but offered no insight into his mother's mood. He was just as confused as the rest of us. I kept him beside me and kept throwing one-liners at him till I had him in fits of laughter. Vanessa almost cracked a smile at one point, but looked up at me, frowned and turned away. At least she was civil towards Celine, given it was her party. After we'd all been fed, Celine stood at the head of the table and called out to us as she was about to speak, requesting everyone make their way back to their own seats. Vanessa looked like she was going to be sick. I pulled her aside for a moment and just as she was about to snap at me I grabbed her wrist firmly and lifted to ensure I had her undivided attention. "Let go of my fucking hand." She hissed. "Not until you tell me what's wrong." I lifted the back of my free hand and felt her forehead for temperature. "Are you sick? Do you want me to take you to a Doctor? Tell me what's wrong?" After staring into my eyes for a long moment, she visibly relaxed and looked as though she was about to say something important, when Con's wife Margaret appeared right next to us and asked if she was ok. Vanessa looked at both of us, put on a brave face and smiled. "I'm ok guys, really. I think I was coming down with something, but I feel better now. Really, I'm ok." Neither Margaret nor I believed her for a second, but we had to accept it unless we were going to miss Celine's speech. She turned quickly and made her way back to her seat, as I was shamefully caught by my sister admiring Vanessa's amazing back side. Margaret gave me a sly, knowing kind of grin, made the 'shhh' sign by putting her forefinger to her mouth and moved away to her own seat. Now that was embarrassing. Back at the table, Steph was eyeing his mother curiously, and my brothers were pretending that they were ancient kung fu grandmasters battling it out for supremacy while sitting next to each other. Joey was standing over them, throwing a slap in there every now and then, while his mum was standing behind him smacking him in the head trying to get him to behave. Some things never change. Feeling left out, my father threw a bread roll at Tom's head and told him to sit and behave. I had to laugh, it really was very funny. "Thank you for coming today everyone, this is a very important occasion for me, and I wanted you all to be the first to know and hopefully wish me luck." Celine looked happily at all the faces around the table. "I've spoken to my parents." Everyone erupted together. Her story was common knowledge by now, and Celine made no secret of the fact that she wanted to be part of a family now with a passion. She knew that her first real steps were to reconcile with her own parents first. Quickly the table fell silent again, looking at Celine to continue. "I've sold my chambers, quitting work and am going to France. I'm going to live with my parents for a while." She was looking at me as she spoke with pride, and I could see she was starting to cry. "I can't believe my mother said she forgave me." She turned around then and was weeping into her hands as everyone suddenly got up to be around her. She found me as I was standing right next to her by then, and fell into my chest crying gently. Tears of joy? I couldn't pretend to know what was going through her mind at that moment. I'd imagine it would probably be a bunch of ambivalent emotions but ultimately, I thought she was doing a very brave thing. Both for herself and for her folks. "I still blame you." She said quietly and gave me a light peck on the lips before stepping away to be with the others. Vanessa held back and watched me carefully, almost as though she was trying to make up her mind about something. Tom stood next to her and offered her a hug, which she accepted gratefully, all the time staring at me. She was starting to freak me out a bit, so I walked over to my mother and talked to her for a while about Celine's upcoming trip. Joey started whining then about how hard it was to find a good, stable barrister, and everyone laughed. Vanessa made her way quietly to my side and took my hand into hers. I didn't know what to say to her so I remained silent. She did too, which only confused me further. My mother smiled at Vanessa, but was then almost bowled over by my five year old niece. Her three year old sister didn't want to be left out so she grabbed onto my leg as though it was a tree stump. I bent down to pick her up, but Vanessa wouldn't let go of my hand. So I had to lift her with one arm only, and did everything in my power to not analyze why Vanessa didn't want to let go. We went around then talking to anyone that would listen, while Vanessa stayed glued to my side. Joey just laughed at me as he was walking by with his wife but kept arguing with Teresa about the weather in the south of France at this time of the year. During a quiet lull in the party, a fair while after I'd lost my niece to her mother; I pulled Vanessa closer to me and asked her if she was feeling better now. "Oh yes, absolutely. I had some heartburn probably from something I couldn't digest, but the queasiness seems to have gone away all of a sudden." "Babe, stop bullshitting me, there's something else going on here, I know." "Oh yeah? What do you know dumbass?" "Nothing yet. But I'll figure this out soon, and then..." "What?" I just attacked her sides then, tickling her knowing her reactions to be severe. I have never met anyone quite as ticklish as Vanessa. "Huhh! promises, promises..." She squealed, running away from me into the crowd. A few days later, I received a call from one of my sisters. Margaret was particularly close to Vanessa, as she had a daughter at about the same time Vanessa had Steph. She asked me over for a coffee and a chat. I acquiesced and bought along the superfluous packet of Tim Tams for which I knew she had a passion, yet always tried to resist. She laughed opening the door eyeing the biscuits, and led me to her dining room where she had the coffee already prepared. "I'm just happy that you're coming out of your shell finally and I wanted to catch up with you." She still had a big grin on her face which slowly faded, as she focused intently on my eyes. "We want to see you smile again Tony. We love you very much. I can only imagine how hard things have been for you recently and I felt the time was far overdue for me to pull my finger out, and try to get you out of your cave for a bit. I agreed with Vanessa a long time ago that she would check on you periodically rather than me. I just didn't want to come across as too clingy and smothering. Con agreed, but only reluctantly. I told him that you still needed your space. I dunno, I'll never forgive myself if we seemed to you like we were pulling away..." She looked down then, quite unsure of herself all of a sudden. This was very unusual for her. "Jesus Muggie, you guys have all been absolutely perfect. I don't ever want to hear you talking like that again. Is that clear?" She brightened up at that, and seemed very relieved. "Yeah, I hope so. Besides," She said with a sly grin. "You could do worse than having Vanessa wait on you, hand and foot." I didn't know how to respond to this without tipping her any hint one way or another so I remained as neutral as possible. It was hard. She could tell. "Anyway," she continued without making her veiled enquiry too obvious "Tom thought that you might find it easier talking to a female rather than one of the boys." She took a Tim Tam, dipped it into her coffee, and took a bite big enough to finish half the biscuit. I laughed at her with that, and she almost spat the thing out while coughing and sputtering and laughing at herself. She cleared her throat before continuing, still laughing. "I had a nice long chat to Vanessa last night, and she was absolutely thrilled to see someone vaguely resembling the old you at Celine's place." She paused and looked at me again. "So what happened? Did you finally decide to join us party animals again?" Her smile was big and genuine and I could feel the concern radiating off her, so I let it all out. I told her everything, about the sadness and loneliness, the nightmares, about Christine and The Door That Must Never Be Opened and finally about Celine's sudden appearance. She was magnificent. Didn't say a word, asked no stupid questions and let me finish, only occasionally asking the briefest of questions that clarified whatever didn't make sense to her. She took my hand and affectionately called me an idiot again, this time making it obvious that she was only upset because I didn't share my difficulties with her sooner. Did I mention before how much I loved my family? Margaret then began to make silly little jokes at my expense and then threw a couple in there about herself and my brother, and bit by bit, without my realizing quite how it happened, she had the both of us laughing so hard we were having problems breathing. Then she took it up a notch and started with the rest of the family and some of our closer friends, all the time doing impersonations and matching their voices and mannerisms wonderfully. By this time Con and their daughter Caterina came home, and joined the fun. Caterina was a master of impersonations, better even than her mother. When she did her father, my brother Con though, and followed up with my mother, I thought I was going to pass out. It was perfect. He lit up the barbeque, and I have to say, that afternoon and night turned into one of the most memorable meals of my life. I felt reborn. I spent the following week catching up with the rest of the family and kept myself busy not thinking of Vanessa. Her fortieth birthday party was coming up soon, and I found that she was by now almost constantly on my mind. The night of her party arrived on a sultry Saturday night in November. With summer just around the corner I was looking forward to the beach weather ahead. This year I might take advantage of it and actually go. The club was pumping when I arrived, as is always the case for me. I could never manage to get to a place during a quiet lull. It's just my luck to always be at the back of the line, adding to my nerves. I spotted Steph and my niece Caterina in the line and they dropped back a few places to join me and keep my spirits up. They obviously drove here together which meant that Vanessa was probably running late. Or maybe she was already inside dancing with some guy. He's probably charming her with his rapier like wit, and is probably just that shade more her type than maybe some loser like me. She probably wouldn't want me barging in and interfering with her fun. Yeah, that's probably what was happening. I thought I'd better just go quietly so that I didn't embarrass her or myself. Caterina was expecting this as she knew how unsettling I found lines. She was waiting for me when I turned around to leave and forcefully pushed me forward. We eventually joined the party inside and it looked like it was going to be a big night. I was looking around at the other guests when I spotted her across the room as though it was the first time I'd ever seen her. The solitary saxophone was producing a smoky film noir experience as I made her out in a pale green cocktail dress with a split up the side that verged on the illegal. Surely it was some kind of enslaving device for men. It would only take a glance. It was cut in such a fashion so as to accentuate the contour of her hips where they met with her narrow waist with deep and impossible angles. Her legs went on for miles. The arch of lower back made me weak at the knees. But to stop here would be criminal, and so the visual journey continued while the saxophone screamed. The silky material was cut low enough at the bust to tease mercilessly, her wondrous deep cleavage frustratingly concealed, yet exhibiting just enough to forever ensnare any hapless male that miraculously escaped the initial view of those legs. I wanted to weep. I didn't think I could stand anymore, but then I saw her face. And as the song went, 'now I'm a believer.' With curves that were breathtaking, hair immaculate, movement graceful, liquid and smooth, I was without a doubt looking at the most spectacular woman there. It wasn't a fair competition that night, even to girls half her age, but then how could it be? This was Vanessa. What the hell was I doing? Why was I thinking of her like this? I was waxing poetic, slipping away. I had to get a drink! I jerked around to look for the bar behind me and almost knocked over her son Steph. He was grinning widely, and nudging Caterina. They were both watching me. Busted. "What's getting you so worked up?" He asked, knowing exactly what or more accurately, who I was looking at. "Nothing." Man, was I on fire! "So you're calling mum a thing are you? And a no-thing at that, eh?" His grin just got bigger. "I'm sure she'll be thrilled." He was laughing at me now, picking on me. "Oh? Your mum's here already? Where is she?" I was fucked now. Totally. "I'm not as dumb as you look, Tony." Playing dumb was probably the wrong tactic. "No, you're a very clever little shi ... boy, aren't you?" "Observant too!" He smiled knowingly. "Really? Great. Anyhoo, it's been fun, let talk again soon ok?" Escape wasn't going to work, but I was going to try. "Oh yes, we can see lots of things, pretty funny stuff too." Caterina said, totally ignoring my last comment. Again, typical teenagers these days ignoring their elders like that. "Like all those losers trying to get that lady's attention over there." She pointed towards Vanessa, before Steph nudged her and told her to stop being so obvious. Obvious? About what? But before I could enquire, I noticed that sure enough Vanessa was surrounded by three guys who were hitting on her. Not too forcefully, just playfully enough to remain entertaining. Steph was still grinning, not at all concerned for his mothers' safety. I was infuriated on the inside, but I couldn't advertise my weakness. "Oh yeah, there she is, I might go say hello later..." I was trying to act and sound cool. Just then she lifted her eyes and looked straight at me. The temperature in the room rose ten degrees. The music changed then to a Spanish motif, and she smiled big as she started moving towards us. The guys she was talking to looked at each other in surprise. She stopped with a small frown after a few feet, returned to her crowd and must have apologized to them before she started back towards us. I enjoyed watching her graceful movements way too much I think. I don't know what she said to them but they just shrugged, smiled, and moved away to another table. She winked at her son and Caterina as they moved away and turned her attention to me while she stood for a moment, three feet away. Her smile more intimate and knowing, her eyes full of gentle laughter. We took a small step each and connected. In my arms I could feel the gentlest quiver. She was laughing but very quietly, still trembling, as though she didn't want to share our moment with anyone else. Her embrace was warm and exciting. Familiar, comfortable and close. I was a mess, and, well ... enthused. We didn't exactly kiss, but there was a smooth shift while we were touching cheek to cheek and our slightly opened lips met gently for a few heartbeats. Her belly came into contact with my discomfort and she looked up at me in mock horror. Obviously she was enjoying her effect on me, tightening our embrace and adding considerably to my eternal embarrassment. She released me, but stayed very close and whispered to me that it might be a good idea if she acted as a shield to protect my dignity. She turned around then and proceeded to not move away. To not give me a chance to regain my composure. Damn. She pushed herself backwards onto me instead, so she was pressed snugly against me. This made things so much worse. Think of an erupting volcano. Maybe she was just getting comfortable, but she was doing me no favors. I closed my eyes and focused everything I had into maintaining my decorum. I was failing. She leaned her shoulders into my chest so our bodies were making the most possible contact, every contour of hers connecting with me. I went back to focusing on my control. She guided my arms loosely around her so that my palms were resting on the gentle curve of her smooth belly and coolly began chatting to one of my brothers who happened to approach at that moment; as if we were all just standing around talking about our taxes. How the Hell do chicks do that? So fucking cool. Tom looked over and greeted me as casually as though I wasn't holding the most precious creature that ever lived. Could he not see how flustered I was? Couldn't anyone? As he moved away to the bar, Vanessa turned her head back and looked into my eyes. She didn't say anything, just smiled and turned back to look at the crowd. It occurred to me then that my being this close to her didn't mean a lot to the others there tonight, because this is pretty much the way we've always been. The affection we've had for one another over the years was always a close, but safe, familial kind of affection, never coming close to crossing the boundaries we were tearing towards at full steam on this night. There were two major symbiotic issues at play that night that made all the difference though. Firstly, was my state of mind. I was starting to think of Vanessa as something more than a good friend. Nothing was exactly formulated in the way of direction or of possible future developments, just a real warm and fuzzy feeling that I was trying very hard not to analyze. Tony's Tale Ch. 02 Secondly her movements were specifically aimed at me for full effect on my libido. This has never happened between us before. To say that I was caught unawares tonight would strangely be both an absolute and a lie. Only Vanessa and I would know what was going on in this crowded room. And she was milking it for everything she could get! Once I realized this, the rules of the game became less obscure, and I thought I might even find a way to take it up a notch. The combination of low intimate lighting in the club, and the fact that it was particularly busy tonight all helped to put this game right where she wanted. That off course being, that unless someone was paying very close attention to us they would remain none the wiser. I sighed happily as I thought that I was having more fun already than I've had in years and it was very likely that she was too. I was crowd gazing like her, with my head over her right shoulder, our cheeks almost touching while I was leaning against the tall bar behind me. I honestly don't remember seeing anyone, so focused was I on the feeling of Vanessa in my arms. Of the texture of her warm soft curves as they joined perfectly into my shape. She started swaying then very, very gently in that highly erotic way that only women know how, to the Latino tempo of a wonderful version of Rodriguez' Guitar Concerto, I think it was Paco De Lucia on the flamenco guitar. This version played much slower than I was accustomed to, but had to admit, it worked beautifully. Simple and pure. This was one of my favorite pieces of music and to have Vanessa so closely in my arms while senior De Lucia was doing his thing could only be a sign from above. I began maneuvering her towards the dance floor. She smiled back and nodded her approval. With fluid motions I'm certain to never repeat, I stepped up to her and we melted together. Her head on my shoulder, and her breasts firmly against my chest. My right leg between hers and our bellies touching, we were again as close as it was possible to be while remaining clothed. This time we were facing each other and moving in time with one of the great masters' accompaniments. We swayed gently, in common time with the guitar, and I spun her around once. On her return to my embrace she lifted her arms and did a spin of her own within my grasp. She finished the turn with her back to my chest and continued to sway slowly and sensuously while at least some part of her remained in constant contact with me. It was one of the most erotic thing I've ever been a part of. After a few phrases, she turned back to me and we resumed our original position. The intimacy this dance produced was powerful and passionate. I suddenly felt as though I was the luckiest guy alive, and at the same time one its greatest fools. Women are smarter than men. This is a fact, and anyone who says different is either a fool or lying. That's not saying anything about intelligence or choices, because for those sort of matters things kind of even out. But when it comes to smarts, women come out on top. They have an innate sense of self serving or self preservation that guides their actions when it comes to capturing their man's heart. It is a very compelling force. This woman knew me so well, that by the time I realized what she was doing, I was lost. She had even managed to take it up a notch before me. There is no recovery once someone like Vanessa has you in her sights. She'd entrapped me in every significant way possible; in public and in front of mine and her families. Even if I wanted to, there was no escape for me. She knew that by my acceptance of her behavior tonight, our mates, brothers and sisters would step in and make Vanessa obligatory to my life. Yet it still felt to me though, that only reluctantly was I being dragged to the place I desperately wanted to go. I didn't know it, but she did. Women always do. It's as simple as that. In the beginning we had our spouses and partners. Our lives were full and the direction we were all taking was the correct one for us. Our families were growing, and our routines became customs. We were happy. Then our world was shattered by events that were completely out of our control. I lost my wife, and she her husband. Our reactions to these losses were different and individual, but our pain was the same. We didn't ask for this. I wandered around aimlessly being either severely depressed or acting the clown. Why did I have to be such an idiot? I felt ashamed. Vanessa on the other hand behaved like a lady. She was better than me, actually too good. She kept her own counsel and ran her household. She always, without exception, behaved with dignity, grace and aplomb. So she created this whole setting now where, she would display to me in front of our world what she can offer as a woman, a friend and lover, but I would have make the move to reach out for it. She will not make any further moves towards intimacy tonight. I knew that as surely as I knew the sun would come up the next morning. I could very clearly see now that she had opened the door for us, but I needed to step through. Our behavior until that evening had been determined by our previous relationships with our spouses. There was now a subtle but fundamental shift in our bond that could point to a whole new life for both of us. As this was playing out in my mind Vanessa looked up, her eyes the color of jade and the expression on her face serious. Our closeness remained as we looked at each other, our faces so close I could feel her heat on my cheek. The music had stopped a while ago. I wasn't even aware that we'd ceased our movement. I smiled at her as it all dawned on me. I read somewhere once that there is no such thing as a slow epiphany. I understood that now. She recognized the smile, and raised an eyebrow in challenge. What was I going to do about it? She gave me one of her small secret smiles, and broke the spell by trying to move away. I didn't let her. I gave her what I hoped was an enigmatic smile of my own, pulled her back into my embrace. I looked up and saw for the first time, that we had created quite a show. There was expectation in the faces I could see. Was that hope I could read written all over her son's face? My brother Con was sitting with Joey and was excitedly talking and pointing to us. Our eyes met and he winked at me, but he wasn't smiling anymore. It was the kind of sign that begged me not to fuck this up. Joey just looked on and nodded. Suddenly, everyone seemed to be part of my story and it became much bigger than just about me. It seemed like everyone else was performing their role to a script that nobody remembered to send me. But for the first time in so long, I cared deeply about the finish to this tale, so I nervously decided to bring things back under my control. To be my own man, stand on my own two feet and follow my heart come what may. I allowed myself a small smile as I twirled her around on the dance floor. Even with the maelstrom of emotions surging through me though, I still couldn't keep my eyes off that magnificent arse. She came back inside my embrace with a playful laugh of her own and grabbed both my hands. She turned slowly and guided them again onto her belly. It was an incredible show of ownership she put on, but I thought that if it was a cliché she wanted, a cliché she was about to get. I spun her around again in my arms and stopped her when she was facing me. We were looking intently at one another when I said to her, "I love you." I kissed her. Hard. Her response almost overwhelmed me. She clung onto me with everything she had and didn't let go. Mouth open, warm, soft and lips moist, we tasted one another for the first time. We couldn't get enough. We were both experiencing difficulty in separating, when we were suddenly surrounded by people. If I had a dollar for every time I heard "about fucking time!" that night, I'd be very rich indeed. I knew in my gut that Helen would have approved, if it was possible, of my being with someone like Vanessa. That it could actually be Vanessa herself would I believe, give Helen much peace. She would then know that I was being looked after properly. That's what Helen was like, and what she would have cared about the most.