Hope's Angel (14 page)

The
new restaurant called Dante’s Inferno was across the main street, beside a
small
groceria
similar to the one Connie’s family ran. Inside, the
restaurant was bright and colorful and bustling with noisy patrons enjoying
hearth-baked pizza from the big stone ovens in full view at the back of the
restaurant.

A
busy waiter seated Paul and Connie at a small table in the middle of the room
and offered drinks. Paul ordered a bottle of red wine, and the waiter hurriedly
carded him, then brought two glasses and took their pizza order. Between bites
of spicy pizza and sips of wine, Paul and Connie talked about his
apprenticeship, about her classes, and about their grandmothers who had become
close friends after Nonna Balestra moved into her sisters’ duplex. They
compared experiences growing up in heavily traditional Italian families, his
Sicilian and hers Pugliese, and laughed over Connie’s stories of Cousin Tony
burying the fig tree every year.

By
the time they moved on to dessert, the bottle of wine was almost empty, and
Connie’s heart was full with the joy of being with Paul. His smiling gaze
rarely left her face, and when they finished their espressos and ricotta pie,
they had come to the same conclusion: a movie would mean sitting silently, side
by side, engrossed in something other than each other. Dancing, on the other
hand, would be more intimate and sounded like a lot more fun.

Not
surprisingly, Paul knew where to go, and when they weren’t seated in a dark
corner of the small club conversing, they were in each other’s arms, dancing.
Paul held her close, and Connie did not resist. She had waited so long for
this, and the feel of his arms around her was the best thing she had ever
experienced. His cheek was warm against hers, his soft curls brushing her face,
and they fit together perfectly, their legs the same length, their torsos
curving into one another. He was a smooth dancer, guiding her with ease, and
she relaxed in his arms and let him lead. In between, he drank beer and Connie
had club soda, but he never drank too much, the way he had at the church
festa
.

At
eleven o’clock Paul looked at his watch and suggested that they leave.

“I
don’t have to be home until midnight,” Connie said, dreading to see the night
end. “Can’t we stay a little longer?”

Paul
leaned across the space between them and gently kissed her lips. When her eyes
widened in surprise, he said, “We’ve already had our first kiss, remember?”

Connie
smiled. “I remember. I’m surprised you remember. You were pretty far gone that
night.”

“Not
too far gone to know who I was kissing.”

“You
kissed Tina, too. And a few other people. Mostly women.”

Paul
laughed his easy, heartfelt laugh that she had come to love in just their few
hours together. “I’ve thought about that kiss a lot since then. You can believe
that or not, but it’s true.”

Connie
smiled. “I felt really bad last week when I had to say I couldn’t go out with
you.”

“It
was stupid for me to expect you to be free, but I just had to ask. I’d put it
off too long.”

“Why
did you put it off? I mean, once Nino was gone.”

Paul’s
smile disappeared. “Because you scare the hell out of me.”

“I
scare the hell out of you?”
Was he kidding?
“Why?”

“It’s
hard to explain. You’ve got one hell of a presence, Connie.”

“A
presence?”

“Yeah.
I can’t explain it. You’re beautiful, and you’re smart, and you don’t take any
crap. You’ve got this way about you that says you’re gonna make it, no matter
what. I gotta say, it’s kind of intimidating.”

“I
intimidate you?”
Paul Cefalu?
“That’s ridiculous.”

“Why?
To be honest, I wasn’t sure you’d even go out with me. I’m no college guy.”

How
could he think that mattered?
“College
guys are just guys. They’re in school to learn a trade, just like you.”

Paul
smiled, then rose to his feet and held out his hand. “One last dance? Come on.”

Connie
followed him onto the floor and melted into his arms. She snuggled as close to
him as possible, and when his leg slipped between hers as he pressed her
breasts to his chest, she didn’t stop him. He turned and kissed the corner of
her mouth, then kissed her cheek and her jaw where it met her ear. Connie closed
her eyes as she savored his attentions and pulled him closer.

The
song ended, and they put on their jackets and headed for the door. Outside, the
night air was brisk, and Connie snuggled against him as they headed across the
parking lot to his car. He laughed as she knocked him off-balance, and they
were still laughing when he opened the car door and helped her inside. When he
slid in behind the steering wheel, she scooted across the bench seat to sit
close to him, and he placed his hand on the inside of her thigh as he leaned
over to kiss her. The presence of his hand in that vulnerable spot sent a
thrill through her that cut off her breath. His kiss was hard and searching,
and she pressed back against him, their teeth colliding, their tongues tasting
one another.

“Jesus,”
he said, pulling away, letting out his breath.

Connie
realized then that they were in a pool of light from the parking lot lamps,
visible to passersby in the lot. She moved away from him and waited for him to
start the car. Her lips were still tingling from the pressure of his kiss, and she
ached with the need to have him touch her in more intimate places.

“I’m
sorry,” he said. “I don’t want to go too fast. But it’s up to you.” He was
still breathing heavily, his profile to her as he started the motor.

“We
need to get out of here,” she said.

He
put the car in gear and drove out onto the highway. They were roughly twenty-five
minutes from home. That meant they would have almost another half an hour
before she needed to arrive inside her kitchen door.

Paul
drove without speaking, his eyes on the road ahead. Connie sat quietly beside
him, a dozen conflicting thoughts going through her head. This was only their
first date; she didn’t want to come off as fast. Yet, they had known each other
almost their entire lives; they were hardly strangers. Still, she had no idea
how many women Paul had bedded, and she didn’t want to be just one more on his
list of conquests. Not to mention that she was still a virgin.

“I
don’t want to go too fast either,” she said, at last. “But I’m not even sure
what that is. Do you know what I mean? I don’t know what you expect, Paul.”

“What
I expect?” Paul glanced at her, his eyebrows knit together. “I don’t know what
you
expect.”

But
of course, he had no idea what she was like, and most likely Nino had never
bragged about his inability to score with her.

“I’m
sorry if that sounded like an insult,” she said, afraid she had said the wrong
thing. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I
didn’t take it that way.” Paul kept his eyes on the road. “I’m a guy, Con. I’m
going to take what I can get. But I’m not going to force you. I had a good time
tonight. I want to do it again. I hope you do, too.”

“I
had a great time. And I do want to do it again. Very much.” She felt so
inarticulate, unable to say what she meant. “It’s  just… I don’t know what Nino
told you, but I—”

“Connie.”
Paul’s brow furrowed. “You don’t have to go there. I know you.” His voice was
soft and gentle, and he gave her an earnest smile that said he understood.

She
knew then she could love Paul Cefalu. He wasn’t just the guy whose face had kept
her heart aflutter since tenth grade. He was kin. He was like her. He was
familiar. He was security at the same time he provided a sense of danger she
found exhilarating and challenging. He was family and he was foe, a threat to
her virginity and all that she held as important, but he understood her and
where she came from, and if she were to lose her virginity before marriage, it
might be okay if it were with him.

They
reached her street with twenty minutes to spare. But instead of parking out of
sight of her house, Paul pulled the car up in front of the store, turned off
the motor, and immediately opened his car door. He came around to her side and
helped her out with a smile on his face. She glanced up at the apartment
windows. A dull glow behind the living room drapes was all she saw; no one was
looking out, watching for them. She and Paul walked into the shadows beneath
the stairs on the side of the house, and he pulled her into his arms. Their
kiss was long and sweet and satisfying, and neither of them wanted to be the
first to let go and start for the stairs.

He
rested his forehead against hers, their noses just touching. “Can I pick you up
for church tomorrow?”

“What
time?”

He
pulled back and gave her the slow smile that turned her insides to jelly. “Nine.
I don’t do seven.”

Connie
leaned forward and kissed his full lips again. “Sure. It’ll be nice to sleep
in.”

“Good.
I’ll come by about quarter of.” He took her hand and pulled her away from the
wall into the light of the porch lamp overhead, and they walked arm-in-arm up
the stairs. At the top, he pulled her into his arms for one last, prolonged
kiss. She stood in the kitchen doorway and reluctantly watched him leave,
overwhelmed with longing before he was even out of sight.

***

Paul
was on her porch the next morning, as promised, and they went to nine o’clock
Mass at Our Lady of Mt. Carmel. Connie had never been so distracted in church,
acutely aware of him kneeling, standing, and sitting beside her, and she fought
a continuous urge to reach out and touch him to reassure herself she wasn’t
dreaming.

After
Mass, he drove her to Martino’s Bakery where they bought hard rolls and shaved
ham still hot from the oven, then took them to his grandparent’s house, next
door to Nonna’s. His parents and two of his sisters and their kids were already
there. The adults sat at the big kitchen table to eat warm ham sandwiches
accompanied by conversation and cups of dark-roast coffee. Connie already knew
everyone in the sunny kitchen the way people in the neighborhood tended to know
one another from church and school and a shared environment. Paul’s extended
family patronized her father’s store, and she and her sisters went to the
hairdresser who employed Paul’s sister Anne. Conversation and laughter came easily,
and his family seemed genuinely happy to see her at their table. When she and
Paul rose to leave, each person gave Connie a hug and said they hoped to see
her again soon.

“I
know you have to study,” Paul said as they stepped onto the large covered porch
on the front of his grandparents’ house, “but I was hoping we could just take a
walk or something before you have to go.”

“Where?”
Connie understood what he was saying; she wanted to delay her separation from
him, as well.

“Anywhere.
I don’t care. I just want to be with you as long as possible.” He took her
hand, and they descended the stairs into the late morning sunshine. Indian
summer had arrived, bringing a late-season burst of warmth, and they crossed Church
Street to walk toward the quiet residential neighborhoods to the east.

After
an hour of strolling and talking about a dozen small things, they came full
circle, back to Church Street. “I don’t want to wait until next weekend,” Paul
said as they approached his grandparents’ house. “I’m not working any evenings
this week. Can we do something?”

Connie
smiled, for she felt the same urgency to be with him and dreaded the thought of
a long separation. “We could plan something and hope I’m not swamped with
homework,” she said. “I get home about five-thirty most nights.”

“Wednesday?”

“Sure.”

They
had reached his car, parked in front of Nonna’s duplex. Connie glanced up at
the lace-covered windows on the second floor. Nonna was at Connie’s house, and
if she could be sure that The Aunts weren’t around, she would invite him to
join her upstairs. She knew where Nonna kept the spare key, and they could have
some private time together.

Paul
understood the meaning of her glance. His eyes searched her face, and his
expression was serious. “My folks are here, but Anne’s husband could stop by
their house any time.”

Connie
nodded, her eyes trained on his. “I know. There’s nowhere to go.” She gave him
a wistful smile. “And I should study anyway.” She reached out to touch his
sun-warmed cheek with her fingertips. How many times had she dreamt of doing
that but never had the right until now?