Cast Me Gently (13 page)

They ate for a few minutes in silence. Ellie, more curious than she would admit, said, “When you called, you sounded like there was something specific you wanted to talk about.”

“Well, not so much talk about,” Teresa said vaguely. “I just wanted to see you. You’ve been on my mind. A lot. You seemed so sad at Thanksgiving, and we’ve both been so busy working extra hours. I’ve wanted to call, but it was always too late.”

Ellie gave an embarrassed little laugh. “I know. I’m sorry I was in such a bad mood on Thanksgiving. Your visit meant so much to me. I’m surprised you even wanted to come back after I was such poor company.”

“You’re never poor company,” Teresa said.

Another tense silence followed as they ate a bit more. Finally, Ellie said, “I’ve thought about calling you on my breaks, but I hate to call at the store in case you’re busy with customers or your mom’s there with you.” She looked up with a smile. “It was so nice to run into you and Bernie at the diner that night.”

Teresa laughed sarcastically. “Oh, yes. Bernie. She won’t let it drop that you and I had dinner with Rob and Karen.”

“Why didn’t you tell her?”

“I’m not sure,” Teresa said, frowning into her wine. “Sometimes she can get ideas and then she runs away with them.”

“Ideas about what?”

Teresa didn’t answer right away. She took another bite before saying, “Like, why I would want to introduce you to my brother and sister-in-law.”

“Why did you?”

Teresa glanced up at her. “I wanted them to meet you.”

“I really liked them.”

“I think they liked you, too,” Teresa said.

Ellie took another slice of bread. “I’m glad. Karen seems very perceptive. I don’t think much gets by her.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Teresa said. “And she pretty much says what she thinks. I like that about her, but it wouldn’t go over so well with my family if they ever start spending time together.”

“I thought your family yelled and got over it?” Ellie asked.

“They do, when it’s them,” Teresa said. “There’s some kind of unwritten rule. They’ll take an insult from a family member, and yell and argue, but if anyone outside says anything, they bunch together and heaven help that other person.”

Ellie started giggling.

“What?” Teresa asked.

“I just had this image of one of those wildlife documentaries where the herd bunches up and stomps their feet to scare away the lions,” Ellie said, laughing.

Teresa grinned, too. “That’s kind of what they’re like. Benedetto bison.”

Ellie took a drink of her wine. “Do you think they could ever accept an outsider?” She raised her eyes to Teresa’s. “Karen, I mean. Do you think they’ll ever welcome her so she and Rob can be part of the family?”

Teresa shrugged. “I’m not sure. I keep hoping they will. I miss not having Rob around more. Sometimes, I think my mom is on the verge of asking them over, but my dad’s not ready. For him, it’s a bunch of things. Rob didn’t want to go into the stores, so my father took that as a personal insult. Then there was the divorce and then him marrying Karen. He’s his own man. I think my dad admires that and hates it all at the same time.” She gave Ellie an apologetic look. “It’s complicated.”

“It sounds complicated.”

They finished their dinner. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring dessert,” Teresa said, carrying her plate to the sink.

“I’m stuffed,” Ellie said. “I do have some ice cream in the freezer if you want some.” She ran some soapy water in the sink.

“No. I don’t need ice cream.” Teresa placed her plate in the sink and pushed up the sleeves of her sweater.

“Oh no. You cooked,” Ellie said, stepping in. “You sit and relax.”

“I’m not leaving you to do all these dishes. You wash. I’ll dry.”

“Deal.” Ellie looked at her again. “You’ve lost weight.”

She watched with some amusement as Teresa blushed, looking embarrassed and pleased at the same time.

“I have. A little.”

“Are you on a diet?”

To her surprise, Teresa scoffed. “You could say that.” She glanced at Ellie as she plucked a plate from the dish drainer and began drying it. “I’ve just been eating less in the evenings, that’s all.”

They were done with the dishes and pans in just a short time—a time that Ellie wished could have lasted longer. Teresa held up the wine bottle.

“Just enough for a half glass more.”

Ellie smiled. “Can’t let it go to waste.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Teresa poured, and then reached back to untie her apron. “I think I’m safe to take this off now.” She took it back over to the wall pegs and fumbled with her coat. For a second, Ellie thought she was taking it down to leave, but she turned around. “Thanks for the apron,” she said, tucking something into her pants pocket. “You saved me from myself. I’m usually such a klutz.”

“No, you’re not,” Ellie said. She led the way out to the living room. “I think sometimes your family makes you feel that way, but—” She stopped abruptly. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Teresa sat beside her on the couch.

“I don’t want to say anything against your family, but…” She looked at Teresa. “I don’t think they see how wonderful you are. You’re kind and generous. I think you’d do anything for anyone.” She stopped, embarrassed. She lowered her eyes. “You’ve been more than kind to me.”

Teresa didn’t say anything, but Ellie was afraid to look up.
She’ll see. She’ll know how you feel
.

Time seemed to stretch on and still Teresa said nothing. She reached out and set a small wrapped package in Ellie’s lap.

“I know Christmas isn’t for a couple of weeks yet,” Teresa said softly. “But I wanted to give you this.”

Ellie looked up in wonder. “For me?”

Teresa nodded. “Open it.”

Ellie’s fingers fumbled clumsily with the ribbon. She tore the wrapping paper away to reveal a velvet jewel box. Prying the top open, she gasped. Her own heart thudded wildly as she stared at the gold heart lying on the velvet.
Does she—?
She couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought.

“Do you…do you like it?”

“Oh, it’s beautiful, Teresa.” She looked up. “But it’s too expensive.”

“Don’t. Please.” Teresa’s voice was a plea. “Don’t tell me you can’t accept it.” She sounded as if she was having a hard time breathing. “You don’t have to wear it. You can leave it in a drawer and never tell me. But please accept it.”

Ellie searched her eyes. “I love it. Yes, I’ll accept it.” She fought the impulse to fling her arms around Teresa’s neck and kiss her. Instead, she held the box out. “Would you put it on me?”

She turned her back so that Teresa could slip the necklace over her head. She felt the trembling of Teresa’s fingers as she fastened the clasp, and she shivered at the lingering touch of warm hands against her neck as Teresa lifted her hair free of the chain.

“Thank you.” Ellie felt the necklace, her fingers tracing the shape of the heart against her chest. “Is it my heart? Or yours?”

Teresa shrugged. “Either. Both. Kind of crooked and bent.”

“But whole.”

Without giving herself time to think about it, Ellie reached out and wrapped her fingers around Teresa’s hand. For an instant, nothing happened. Her heart, thudding so jubilantly just a few seconds earlier, plummeted to her stomach like a rock at the realization that she’d misread Teresa’s feelings. Just as Ellie started to yank her hand back, Teresa’s fingers tightened, holding her fast. For long minutes, they sat there, staring at their intertwined fingers.
Is this really happening?
Ellie reveled in the warmth of Teresa’s touch, afraid to meet her eyes.

A loud knock on the living room door startled both of them, and they jumped apart as if they’d been shocked.

Reluctantly, Ellie got up and opened the door. “Hi, Sullivan.”

“Hey, I smelled garlic—” He stopped short at the sight of Teresa sitting there. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi,” Teresa said with a smile.

Sullivan sniffed the air hopefully. “You guys had dinner?”

From behind him, Ellie grimaced apologetically. “Yes. Teresa brought dinner over. Would you like some?”

“Yeah.” He headed toward the kitchen and then stopped. “Hey, I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?”

“No,” the two women said simultaneously.

“As a matter of fact,” Teresa said, looking at her watch, “I really have to be going.”

“I’ll walk you down.” Ellie took Teresa’s coat down off the wall and handed it to her. “Be right back,” she said to Sullivan.

She walked with Teresa to the bottom landing. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s okay,” Teresa said.

Ellie looked at her in the dim light coming onto the landing from the outside lamp. “Thank you so much. For dinner, and for my present.” She placed her hand over the necklace. Without warning, she flung her arms around Teresa’s neck.

Teresa held her tightly. “You’re welcome,” she whispered back.

Ellie kissed her on the cheek and released her. “I’ll see you soon.”

Wordlessly, Teresa nodded and stepped outside.

CHAPTER 13

“I think those are
burning.”

Teresa jumped at the sound of Bernie’s voice. “Shit!”

Smoke was just starting to rise from the pizzelle iron. She opened the lid and used a fork to lift two darkened waffle-like cookies out of the hot iron.

Bernie sniffed. “Anise?”

“Yes,” said Teresa in disgust. She threw the burnt pair away. “The kids all like vanilla or chocolate better, but the aunts and our old-timers prefer anise.” She glanced over. “You here to help, Beej?”

“Sure,” Bernie said, shrugging out of her coat. “Got nothing done at school today. The goddamned kids are so squirrelly thinking about Christmas, they can’t concentrate on anything.” She noted the stacks of pizzelle cooling along the kitchen counter. “How many are you making?”

“That was five dozen vanilla,” Teresa said. “If you can put more of the anise batter in the iron, I’ll start mixing some chocolate.”

Bernie scooped some of the batter into the iron and closed the lid. “So what were you so preoccupied with that you let those burn?”

Teresa didn’t answer right away as she cracked six eggs into a large bowl. “Nothing.” She stirred in the sugar and turned on the mixer. “Just trying to juggle all this and things at the store.”

Bernie poured herself a cup of coffee. “Refill?”

Teresa nodded and Bernie poured fresh coffee into her cup.

“You all set for Christmas?” Teresa asked.

“Yeah. Finally got everything bought and wrapped. Mom’s upset. Denny called and said he won’t make it home this year.”

Teresa looked up. “Why?”

Bernie went to check the cooking pizzelle. “Said he can’t afford to take time away from work.”

“You’re kidding? Not even for Christmas?”

“He’s an asshole,” said Bernie. “He knows how much it means to Mom, especially these last couple of years since Dad died, but his girlfriend’s family is all there in Philly. I’ll bet my goddamned paycheck she talked him into staying there with her. To hell with his family.”

Bernie’s younger brother had never been one of Teresa’s favorite people, but to not come home for Christmas? “Well, Rob doesn’t come home anymore, either,” she said.

“Yeah, but he would,” Bernie said. “That’s your folks’ fault, because they want him to come without Karen. Denny knows he can bring horse-face.”

Teresa snorted as she slowly folded in some flour and baking powder along with some cocoa, watching as the mixer blended it all together. “What would you do, if you met someone—” She stopped abruptly. “I mean, say Tom got a divorce and you could be together, but your mom didn’t want you to bring him home for holidays and things. What would you do?”

“Like that would ever happen.” Bernie turned suddenly from where she was picking the pizzelle out of the iron and setting them to cool. “Why are you asking something like that?”

Teresa kept her back to Bernie as she poked at the batter with a spatula to be sure everything was blended. “No reason. Just thinking about Rob and Karen. If you were in their shoes, would you go home alone? To keep the peace? Or would you do what Rob did?”

She could feel Bernie’s eyes boring a hole in her back. She stayed hunched over the mixer.

“I don’t know,” Bernie said. “Like Denny now. He could split his time and come without her. But if it was me, I’d want Tom there.” There was a long silence. “I’m not sure what I’d do.”

Bernie spooned the last of the anise batter into the iron and took the bowl to the sink. She picked two vanilla pizzelle off the cooling rack and took them to the table. “Bennie, sit down.”

Teresa turned off the mixer and sat. Bernie handed one of the cookies to Teresa and began snapping hers into smaller pieces along the geometric ridges cooked into a snowflake design. She chewed on one piece thoughtfully as she studied Teresa’s face. “Something is up with you,” she said. “You’re different.”

Teresa felt her cheeks grow hot. She dunked her pizzella into her coffee and took a bite. “I’m the same as I’ve always been.”

“No. You’re not.”

Teresa refused to meet Bernie’s eyes—
she can read you like a book
—and she knew she could never lie convincingly.

Doggedly, Bernie went on. “I don’t know what it is. I don’t know why you can’t talk about it. But, Jesus, Bennie, I’m your oldest friend. If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?”

“No one! That’s the problem!” Teresa nearly blurted, but she knew better. Sister Marguerite’s lesson had been drummed into her long and hard. “Unnatural” and “ungodly” kept running through Teresa’s head any time she thought about Ellie. Only… it felt like the most natural and holy thing that had ever happened to her.
How can it be wrong to love someone?
Because she knew now that’s what this was. For the first time in her life, Teresa was in love, and the strength of the emotion was enough to make her feel almost sick at times. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t concentrate on anything for long before thoughts of Ellie crept back into her mind. She felt as if she were running a fever. Every time she remembered the light in Ellie’s eyes as she accepted Teresa’s gift, the warmth of Ellie’s hand in hers, how close she’d been as she slipped the apron over Teresa’s head—
I could have kissed her
—Teresa felt lightheaded. Just this afternoon, her mother had come upon her, leaning weakly against the desk in the store office, one hand clutching her shirt as she tried to calm her heart rate. “You’re working too hard,” Sylvia had declared, and so Teresa was home now, making the Christmas pizzelle—
and being interrogated.

Realizing Bernie was staring at her as these thoughts ran through her mind, Teresa pushed up from the table. “These are done,” she said, taking the anise cookies out and spooning some of the chocolate batter into the iron. Bernie sat at the table, silent, watching.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Teresa insisted, but she knew Bernie didn’t believe her. She handed Bernie a stack of plastic bags and Christmas ribbon. “Help me wrap these, six to a bag. I’m going to deliver them this evening.”

The ringing of the doorbell brought the muffled sound of startled voices. A curtain at the living room window was pulled aside, and Teresa waved. A moment later, she heard bolts and chains sliding, and one of their elderly customers opened the door, shakily supported by a cane while his wife peeked around his shoulder.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Taliaferro,” said Teresa.

“Come in, come in,” Mr. Taliaferro said, shuffling back.

Teresa stepped into the foyer and pushed the door shut against the cold. “I can’t stay,” she said as Mrs. Taliaferro waved her into the living room where their Christmas tree was brightly lit. She reached into a large shopping bag and pulled out a wrapped packet. “I just wanted to bring you some homemade pizzelle. Made fresh today.”

“Oh, Teresa,
grazie
,” said Mrs. Taliaferro. She raised the bag to her nose and sniffed. “What a treat. Can’t you stay and have one?”

“I ate too many while I was making them,” Teresa said. The old couple chuckled. “And I have to deliver many more tonight. You call when you need a refill on your medicines, yes?”

“Yes, we will,” said Mr. Taliaferro. “
Buon Natale
, Teresa.”

“
Buon Natale.
” Teresa let herself out the door, waving as she went down the porch steps into the night.

She walked for blocks, checking off the houses on her list. The cold night air was soothing on her face, and it felt good to move. She couldn’t have sat still at home anyway. “It’s a good thing she’s working late,” she muttered to herself as she walked. “You can’t call and you can’t go over.” But she wanted to. More than anything, she wanted to hear Ellie’s voice, wanted to see her again. She stopped and leaned against a tree. There it was again, that weakness that overcame her at the mere thought of Ellie. “You have got to get hold of yourself,” she said, taking a deep breath and continuing on to the next house.

It took the better part of two hours to get all the pizzelle delivered—no matter how many times she protested that she had to get on to other houses, some of those old people were so lonely and starved for company that Teresa couldn’t bring herself to leave right away. Making her way back home, she suddenly realized no one would have left dinner for Dogman and Lucy tonight. Why hadn’t she thought of that sooner? If her mother had seen them settling for the night as she closed up, there would be trouble. Nearly running the last block home, Teresa bounded up the porch steps.

To her relief, both Sylvia and Lou were in the living room. She took the fact that her mother wasn’t yelling about homeless bums as a good sign. “Got almost everything delivered,” she said. “Just have a few more. I’ll be back soon.”

Without waiting for a response, she went to the kitchen and quickly filled an aluminum pie tin with lasagna. It was cold, but it would have to do for tonight. She didn’t dare take the time to warm it. Hurrying out to her car, she drove to the store. There was no sign of Dogman as she parked, but it wasn’t unusual for him to not be there when she closed up. She found Lucy’s bowl behind the trash can where Dogman had been leaving it. Opening the hood of her VW, she filled the bowl with dog food and set it on top of the trash can along with the tin of lasagna and a packet of pizzelle. She was just getting into her car when the pair of them came down the alley, Dogman limping along with Lucy beside him.

“Hi,” she said, bending to pet Lucy, who trotted over to say hello. She pointed to the trash can. “Brought some lasagna tonight. Sorry, it’s cold.”

Dogman nodded. “She likes you.”

Teresa smiled. “She’s sweet. I’m glad you have each other.” She turned to go.

“Thank you.”

Teresa spun around. “You’re welcome.”

She got in the car. Looking in her rearview mirror as she drove down the alley, she could see Dogman setting Lucy’s bowl on the ground. At the end of the alley, she stopped the car and sat there. A left-hand turn would take her home. She turned right.

Ellie’s apartment, as expected, was dark when she pulled up to the curb. Teresa let the engine idle.
Why are you here?
she asked herself, and she couldn’t answer. It made no sense. Ellie wasn’t here. The only thing she knew was that she couldn’t stand not having some contact, some connection. She opened her glove box and found a scrap of paper and pen—
from the bank,
she realized with a droll smile. For long minutes, she sat with the pen poised. At last, by the yellow illumination of the street lamp, she wrote a few lines. She turned the car off and went up the stairs to Ellie’s kitchen door. There, she hesitated. This was stupid. She turned around and had descended a half dozen steps before she stopped herself. “Which will you regret more?” she whispered. Without giving herself time to reconsider, she ran back up the steps and slipped the paper underneath the door. Returning to the VW, her heart felt a bit lighter as she headed home.

Impatiently, Ellie waited for the lobby clock to chime noon. She pressed her fingers to her chest, feeling the small heart necklace through her sweater.

“I’m going out for lunch today,” she announced to no one in particular at the first chime.

Without waiting for a response, she hurried to the staff locker room and retrieved her coat and scarf. She opened her backpack and found her wrapped sandwich. Slinging the backpack over her shoulders, she ate as she walked.

“Hello,” she said cheerfully to the people she passed. “Nice day.” Tucking one hand in her coat pocket, she felt a scrap of paper. She pulled it out and read it for about the hundredth time, though she knew it by heart now.
Just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of you. Sweet dreams, Teresa.

Ellie had come dragging up the steps a couple of nights ago and opened the door to find KC batting a slip of paper around on the kitchen floor. She picked it up, thinking the cat had gotten something out of the trash. All weariness was forgotten as she read the note and pulled KC into a tight hug.

“She was here!” she said, laughing. “She’s thinking of us.”

Newly energized, Ellie had fed KC and sat at the kitchen table to resume work on Teresa’s Christmas present. It was nearly two a.m. when she sat back to inspect her work. “I think it’s done,” she said, waking KC, who was sleeping on the other kitchen chair.