Authors: Suzanne McKenna Link
Now that classes were over and I’d had the last of my final
exams on Friday, I could give my attention to other things.
Like what I was going to wear on my date out with Toby.
I planned a post exam celebratory shopping expedition with
April.
It had been a long, stressful week, but thankfully Mrs. Faye
had been doing well and had been fine with me taking both Monday and Wednesday
off to study. She said she was feeling so good, in fact, I could take Friday
afternoon after my exams, too.
April and I drove up to the Smithhaven Mall, on the north
shore. As we browsed outfits for me to wear Saturday night, I brought her up-to-date
on my college drama.
“I found several other colleges with my gerontology major,
but deciphering financial aid requirements is mind-boggling. Apparently, while
I live as a dependant, I’m not eligible for much. My parents’ income bracket
puts me out of any need-based funding.” I scanned a rack of brightly colored
dresses. “Basically, if I want to go away to finish my degree, I either have to
declare myself an independent or cough up a load of dough.”
“Sorry, fresh out of loads of dough,” April said, and held
up a red-sequined mini dress.
“Trashy,” I shook my head.
“I don’t think it’s that bad.” April shrugged and put it
back on the rack.
“So, I don’t have much other choice than to stay put. I just
hope my father and I can come to some sort of agreement. He has to back off.”
“Chica, some dads have a hard time letting their little
girls grow up. Insist on some compromises. You can totally handle another two
years with your dad,” she said very simply and nodded towards the back of the
store. “Come on. I have a bunch of dresses for you to try on.”
I followed her into the fitting rooms. As I tried on the
assortment of outfits, she commented on them—that’s okay, I like the neckline
on that one, but the color is yuck… until I put on a fitted, chocolate
halter-dress.
Her eyes lit up, and she shouted, “That’s the one!”
Pulled taut, the bodice hugged my curves and was gathered
underneath the bust line, held in place by a large wood ring embellishment.
April stood next to me and looked at my reflection in the
mirror. “It’s so flirty and sexy. And, look at the girls, up high and proud,”
she gushed. The way the halter top was fashioned, it pushed everything up while
at the same time the low-cut neckline allowed a generous amount of cleavage to
show.
“I love this dress,” I said, turning this way and that to
admire it from different angles. The free-flowing skirt ended just above the
knee and gently swished back and forth with my movement. The soft cotton mix
caressed my legs. It was a simple summer dress I was sure most girls wouldn’t
worry about wearing. But it was not my typical style.
Doubts began to creep in. “I can’t buy it.”
“You have to! Toby won’t be able to take his eyes off of
you.” For April the decision was made.
“It’s his hands I’m more concerned with,” I sighed, and
unhooked the strap from behind my neck. “It’s too sexy for a first date.”
“Wear the dress. It’ll be a good way to gauge how Toby feels
about you.” April pushed my hands away to refasten the strap. “If no matter
what you say, he’s all hands, you drop him in a hot minute. But if he looks at
you and you can see all the nasty, delicious things he wants to do to you in
his eyes, and he’s able to keep his hands to himself, it means he’s a keeper.”
“You mean, if I choose to keep him,” I added.
“You got that right,” she smiled.
“Who would have thought one little dress could wield so much
power?” I laughed. I admired my reflection once more. “As much as I like this
dress, I’m afraid I’ll feel self-conscious all night. And my dad, he’ll hate
it.”
“Wait a sec,” April said and left the dressing room. She
came back moments later with a silkscreen scarf in several shades of cream and
taupe and wrapped it around my neck. She arranged it over my exposed cleavage,
making the outfit tastefully modest.
“After the lickfest the other night, I can’t guarantee your
safety once you remove it, but your father shouldn’t have any complaints.”
When I got home, I hung my new dress where I could see it
from my bed. I was nervous, but I hoped to show Dad that despite what he knew
about people’s history, it didn’t necessarily predict their destiny. That
regardless of what happened with his father and his brother, Toby was not going
to end up like them.
I wanted Dad to see Toby as I saw him: funny and kind. The
good Faye.
* * *
My father was doing paperwork in his office when I got home
from my normal Saturday shift at Sterling.
Over the course of the day, I reflected that USC, or any
away-college for that matter, might be beyond reach, but I still needed to
assert my independence in other ways. Tonight it would be about what I did with
my time and who I dated, but after this, there were other areas of contention I
would get to, all in good time.
I charged right in.
“Dad, I’m going out with someone tonight, and I asked him to
come over to meet you.”
Prior to this, we’d barely spoken. I twiddled my thumbs,
waiting for him to respond.
He put down his pen and leaned back in his seat as if he
were preparing himself for bad news.
“So I’m finally going to meet the younger Faye kid?”
“How’d you know?”
“It’s a reasonable conclusion considering how much time
you’ve been spending at that house.” He shuffled through some papers before
looking back up at me. “With your attitude lately, I suppose I should be
grateful that you’re telling me about this at all.”
“It’s been a tough few days with all my finals. I just want
to have a fun night out. Will you meet him?”
“By all means. I look forward to it,” Dad commented,
suspiciously upbeat.
I had to get ready, so there was no time to hash out whether
or not he really meant it. Given my father’s obvious disdain for any male Faye,
and Toby’s aversion to anything police related, as much as I tried, I couldn’t
imagine the two getting along.
I finished my makeup and hair, strategically adjusted the
scarf the way April had done in the store. When I heard Toby’s Jeep pull up out
front, I rushed downstairs to answer the door before he rang the doorbell. I
wanted to greet him before my dad got at him.
“So this is what
casa de Chiametti
looks like. Nice
place,” he said, glancing around the spacious front room and modern kitchen. “I
opted out of a bulletproof vest, but I hope I look presentable enough to meet
the old man.”
He was dressed in a pair of stylish black slacks and a soft
short-sleeved, white collared shirt that set off his tan and contrasted with
his blue-grey eyes. Almost clean-shaven, his facial hair was trimmed down to a
goatee that outlined his mouth. The look was very appealing and the shave cream
lingered on his skin.
God, he smelled great.
“Whether he’s impressed or not, I approve,” I touched his
smooth cheek. It felt like silk.
“You like?” Toby pressed his hand over mine and smiled. “I
went to the barber, got a shave and everything. Just for you.”
We eyed each other. A flutter rippled through my stomach. He
leaned forward to kiss me, but then we heard footsteps. Toby popped his head
up. He stepped back just before Dad sauntered in looking like a gunslinger out
of a western movie. I noticed him appraise my dress, and I was glad for the
scarf.
His scrutiny shifted to Toby as I introduced them.
Toby shook my father’s hand. I glanced from one to the other
nervously assessing them. My father, with his disciplined, military background
and police training, stood ramrod straight while Toby stood with a casual
stance, his hands pushed deep into his pants pockets. As his gaze slipped to
the floor, I realized how uncomfortable he must be.
Dad said, “Before I let you take my daughter out tonight,
I’d like to speak to you, alone in my office.”
“Dad, no.”
“If he wants to take you out, he’ll spend a couple of
minutes with me,” Dad told me, sternly, before turning to Toby. “Alright?”
Toby nodded and followed my father. I watched, helpless and
uneasy as the door shut behind them.
I waited several minutes, drumming my fingers nervously on
the counter. The door finally opened, and Toby came out followed by my father.
He smiled tightly as he came to my side.
“Ready?” he asked quietly.
I nodded and picked up my bag, prepared to leave.
“One last thing, Toby.” Dad’s words stopped us. “I see
you’re driving a Jeep. My daughter is in a dress. Perhaps it would be best to
take her car tonight.”
“I’m fine,” I started to say.
“The car will be easier for you,” Toby said calmly, agreeing
with my father.
“Okay, fine.” I pulled out my keys.
My father seemed satisfied. “You two have a nice time
tonight and not too late.”
Toby nodded, and I kissed my father’s cheek before we left
the house.
“I didn’t know he was going to do that,” I said, as we made
our way to my reliable silver Camry. The weather was warm and muggy, but being
outside was still a relief.
“Can I still drive?” Toby asked. I handed him my car keys,
and he walked to the passenger door to open it for me. I paused, and he just
shook his head. “That was a first.”
“Was it bad?” I hesitated before getting in the car, trying
to get a read on his mood.
“No, it was great. We had a few beers, a couple of laughs.
He’s quite the joker.”
“Yeah, right.” With a huff, I slid into the seat. He shut
the door and went around to the driver’s seat. He had to adjust everything, the
seat, mirrors and steering wheel to fit his long legs.
“Seriously, what did he say?”
“He asked me if I was involved in that attack,” he said,
navigating his way out of my neighborhood. Worry was etched in his grimace, and
I searched his profile for some kind of clue of what he was thinking.
“And you’re not,” I said carefully. “But you know something
about it. I see how it upsets you. You know, my dad could actually help with
something like that.”
He braked for the traffic light to turn left on Main Street
and shook his head. “Your dad would help me right into a pair of handcuffs.”
“Come on, my father isn’t that bad.”
“Maybe, but he’s not a fan of mine,” Toby said, his tone
markedly cool. “But then again, we never expected him to be.”
I lived so close to town, it was only a few moments before
Toby pulled my car into a parking spot along Main Street. He got out and came
around to my door. I swiveled in my seat, showing a little more leg than I’d
intended.
A wolf whistle pierced the air. Toby and I both turned to
see, about thirty feet away, Devlin and Ray staring at us.
With his hands cupped around his mouth, Devlin yelled, “Hey,
beautiful, why don’t you come over here and let me show you what a real man has
to offer?” He grabbed himself between the legs.
I cringed. “He’s disgusting.”
Toby’s face tightened, and his nostrils flared. Putting his
back to me, he subtly arched his shoulders as if he were preparing to do
battle.
Before the situation spiraled out of control, I lurched
forward, grabbed his hand, and pulled hard. Toby snapped around and squinted at
me, his whole stance emanating menace.
“If you respond to that, this date is over,” I warned.
I saw the conflict play out on his face. Quickly looking for
a way to pull him back, I fingered the knot on my scarf.
“And, I’m really insulted.” Taking a breath, I slowly pulled
the scarf off. “I bought this dress for our date, and you haven’t even
mentioned it.”
His eyes darted down at my cleavage, and the moment became
so charged, I don’t think either of us drew a breath. He sagged against my car,
the tension visibly leaving him. Slowly, he turned his attention back to me,
and I made myself stay still as he openly admired the generous allotment of
skin the dress left exposed.
“Whoa,” he murmured.
Reaching for my hand, the corners of his mouth tipped up.
“I’m sorry. You look absolutely smoking hot in that dress, and there’s not a
chance this date is ending before it’s actually started.”
Exactly the response I wanted. I caught him throw one last glance
over his shoulder before he put an arm around my waist and drew me towards the
restaurant.
I took Claudia to dinner at Café Raphael. It was the same
restaurant that I took Julia to on her birthday each year. My mother liked the
old world decor, that the wait staff wore matching black vests over crisp white
shirts, and that they piped in soft, classical music overhead. It was one of
the better, more upscale places on Main Street. I liked it because, though it
was nice, it wasn’t too stuffy, and the food was great.
Claudia sat across the candlelit table from me looking
killer in a dress that showed off a whole lot more than I’d ever seen of her.
She blushed when I hurried the busboy away from the table. He’d been eyeing her
as he refilled our water glasses for the twentieth time. I just wanted to be
alone with her, but once we were, it was a struggle to keep my own eyes from
drifting downwards.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized again. “I can’t believe I didn’t
tell you at the house how amazing you look.”
“You were nervous about meeting my dad. I understand,” she
said.
I reached across the table for her hand. “I promise the
night will only get better.”
I would never tell her just how much her giant, mustachioed
father had a hard on for me. Inside his office, he’d told me to take a seat
while he sat behind his enormous wood desk like we were doing some kind of
formal job interview.
He ticked off questions: Do you go to school? Are you
working? What happened to your eye? I joked that I’d been clumsy and split it
open on a fall, but he didn’t crack a smile.
He leaned forward on his elbows and asked, “Were you
involved with the Velerio stabbing?”
“No, sir.”
He paused for a long time. Then he’d come right out and
said, “You know she’s too good for you.” He sneered like he wanted to put me
out in the trash. “Let me make myself clear. I don’t accept any bullshit when
it comes to my daughter. If I find out you hurt her, or that you’re doing
anything that might hurt her, I will make your life miserable. Got me?”
Message loud and clear—old pops was prepared to throw me in
lockdown if I stepped out of line with his daughter.
If it weren’t for the fact that I’d been forever jonesing
for her, I might have pursued Claudia just out of spite. But, I wanted this. I
wanted to make Claudia mine. If it pissed old pops off, well, call it a bonus.
When dinner was over, I paid the bill, and we headed out.
I’d told her in advance that we were going to sit in the park and listen to
music. We stopped at the car to pick up the blanket she’d stowed in the
backseat, and, leaving her car parked on Main Street, we crossed the road to
the south side.
She had loved the park idea. “How great is it that our town
has these free concerts?” We strolled the short distance to Rotary Park.
No matter what her father thought, Claudia seemed just as
happy holding my hand as I did hers. I didn’t get the impression she thought I
wasn’t good enough for her.
The concert was decent, a really great Beatles cover band.
It turned out that Claudia and I both liked the Beatles. I joked that we had so
much in common, soon people wouldn’t be able to tell us apart.
She laughed and leaned into me, and I pressed my face into
her hair. When the band struck the first chords of “Something,” I stood up and
asked her to dance with me.
“I thought you didn’t dance.” She rose up next to me and
twined her soft, bare arms around my neck.
“Don’t tell anyone,” I whispered. “I’m making an exception
for you.”
The song was slow, and I only had to hold her to me and
sway. The heat of her body against mine boxed my mind off. There was only she
and I.
I sung the words of the song to Claudia as I pressed my nose
into her neck. The sweet smell of skin and hair elevated my high. Being
together with her like this felt amazing. I couldn’t wait to get her alone.