Slightly Imperfect (17 page)

Maggie glanced over her shoulder, her smile surreptitious through the moist film over Zac's eyes. "You need a haircut, Zaccheus," she admonished softly. "Gerald doesn't like ponytails any more than your papa. Even short ones."

"I'm working on it, Magatita."

As Maggie and Marcus passed out of hearing, Jan caught his hand and squeezed. "Good job. It could have gone either way, you know."

"No, it couldn't. I lead a charmed life now."

* * *

He deemed all the phone calls a kind of courtship.

"Zac? It's Victoria. Is he asleep? I've been calling all day."

Saturday night. Late. Marcus slept in his Bart Simpson sleeping bag on Carron's chaise lounge across the room. Zac had been salvaging his reading, in bed.

"Yeah. He is. We had a big day. Sorry you missed us."

"Tell me about it."

"We did the Fischer's Landing bit—you know, my project with Gerald. Gerald adopted Marcus, official grandfather status." Silence. "The three of us had lunch at Taco Bell. Marcus is big into tacos. We fished with Papa and Josh in the afternoon, had dinner at Maggie's, and she gave us haircuts." More silence. "He almost couldn't work in reading War and Peace. How was your day?"

"Who is Maggie?"

"My
first
wife."

"Oh... yes." Across the miles, he listened to her silently ponder his double entendre. Then she mused, "Gerald Fitzpatrick in Taco Bell?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know what to think."

"Do you trust me, Victoria?"

"Implicitly."

"Then think about that. It should put you to sleep."

"Yes."

"It's late. What's going on there?"

"Ari and I just got out of a bubble bath."

He tried hard not to visualize that.

"Lizbett is getting the twins into bed."

"What about Alex? No bubble bath?"

"He had one."

"Alone? That's a little sad."

"Yes, but—"

"I know." All her Coby fears were safely intact. "But it's still a little sad. He needs Marcus. A bath buddy."

"How can I ever thank you for... keeping him for me?"

"I'm making a list."

* * *

When Zac answered, "Hello. Marcus's keeper here," promptly on the first ring the next morning, Victoria enjoyed feelings of security, comfort and stability. His lack of guile, of pretense, soothed her, overriding the memory of Tommy sometimes making her wait through multiple rings before satisfying her need to talk to him. Such tactics had kept her on his ground, vulnerable.

"Good morning. I'm calling early so I won't miss talking to him. I'm sure you have a big day planned."

"We're going to mass and then the inevitable."

She waited, guessing.

"McDonalds. Nice hearing your voice again, Victoria. I'll get him. He's in the shower. No bubble baths for us men."

In the silence, the vision of Zac's face lay on her mind. He
wasn't
like Tommy. She had stopped considering that, other than his Hispanic characteristics, striking features. But Zac had a more rugged appearance, she realized, as she listened to him banter with Marcus in the background. His skin was bronzed, a little toughened by the elements. Eyes brooding, kind, wise, and seeming to hold a world of secrets, mysteries he was willing to share, a few at a time. Mysteries firing her curiosity, yet filling her with solace and—

"
Buenos días, Vittoria. Como te va
?"

—he was apparently a very good Spanish teacher.

* * *

She called early in the evening, Wednesday night of the first week, and spoke to Marcus. Unable to come up with an excuse she could voice, she called back anyway, long after Marcus would be asleep. When Zac said he was studying, she tried to envision that, then veered onto another subject.

"Tell me about your marriage."

"What do you want to know?"

"How you... What it was like. How you feel about it now."

"It was everything a man could wish for. I was a jigsaw puzzle until I met Maggie. She was the last piece to go in place, and she completed my life."

"That's beautiful."

"It's exactly how I felt until the day I met Carron."

"That's so sad."

He was quiet for a moment. "Yeah. It is, but we've survived it, even Allie's death. Maggie's a special woman. We're friends now, even though I sacrificed her." He fell quiet again.

She waited, feeling they teetered on a brink.

"I'm not sure I would have wanted to miss knowing Carron. She touched places in me I wasn't aware existed."

"You didn't miss the dance," she half-whispered.

"I guess. God is really kind. If I died tonight, knowing Maggie and Carron would have been enough."

Another silence, one she didn't know how to break.

"Do you want to reciprocate?"

"And compare apples to oranges? No thank you."

"If you feel that way, then why did you leave Tommy to marry Christian?"

"I had no choice. My father hated Tommy and everything he stood for."

Dread pricked her consciousness. Pierce Chandler. A heavy factor in her life, past and present. She envisioned connecting dots being drawn between Tomas and Zac, easily detectable, easily associated in Pierce Chandler's eyes. The same association that had drawn Victoria to Zac Abriendo would repel her father.

"Coby hated Tommy, too, and Coby was the predominant factor in my life then. Pierce gave me an edict to stay away from Tommy. He highly approved of Christian." She let memory seize her mind, yet again. "I was young and torn. I wanted Pierce's approval."

"Something makes me think you still do. Maybe the way the twins keep going to Chandler House without Marcus."

She refused to give his wisdom credence. Verbally. "I couldn't give Tommy up. The more Pierce raged against him, the more I wanted him." She heard her own laugh, the fatalism. "Forbidden fruit
is
sweeter. I suppose."

"Then come the consequences."

Yes. Seemingly, never to stop. "Pierce was after the senatorial vote. Tommy lived on the fringe of the establishment. He wasn't someone I could take to campaign dinners. Our relationship made a Houston gossip column. I'd been seeing Christian and—"

"Did you love Christian?"

"It's possible to love more than one person." She thought of Coby, Tommy, Christian. "When I married I intended it to last." The balancing act. "The answer to everything, I thought."

"What happened to the marriage?"

"We talked about this before."

"What happened before his treatment of Marcus became a factor?"

"It's late. We both have to get up early." The problems seemed too simple now, mundane, shoddy.

"What happened, Victoria?"

She drifted back, listening to her own voice. "Christian had a way of becoming too busy to give me the attention—In my eyes, the way he...did that...related to Pierce's inaccessibility. To my childhood." Textbook material.

"Constructive abandonment," he offered softly.

"What?"

"When your mate stops sleeping with you. A legal term."

"You don't want to hear this, Zac."

"Yeah, I do."

"When Christian wouldn't—wasn't available to me, I began thinking of Tommy, the way I once looked to Coby for the affection I didn't get from Pierce. I didn't consider all the problems Tommy and I had. It was like the pain of childbirth. Once it's over, you don't remember. All I could think of was how Tommy could—Thinking of him drove a wedge between Christian and me. He went on a short mission. I went to Tommy." She paused, mustering conviction. "But I did love Christian. I didn't want to lose him."

"You just didn't love him enough to do the right thing."

The profundity of his statement rendered her mute.

"That's not original, Victoria." She heard his smile through the wires. "My brother said it to me when Allie got hit by the car, and I was blaming Maggie. Pretty philosophical. Don?t you think?"

"It's so true."

* * *

On Saturday morning, the end of a completed a week, she spoke to Marcus first. Then, "Hi, Zac. He sounds wonderful."

Zac noted her voice held assurance, finally.

"I've categorized him now," he said. "He falls into the intuitive thinking slot. Would you like my diagnosis?"

"Of course."

He recited, "He's very logical, likes learning new ideas and thinking about what he's learning. He's good at planning and strategies, likes debating and asking questions, loves reading and activities that involve quiet reflection." Marcus could have been his son, their traits so mirrored each other's.

"That's awfully clinical." Pride edged through her accusation. "Has there been any time for fun?"

He laughed, glad to hear her concern for their enjoyment. "I just finished reading that analysis in the newspaper, a survey done on learning styles of children. I wanted to impress you."

"Oh, you have. You really have."

She called back in five minutes.

"Are you busy? Are you going out right away?"

"I'm reading my philosophy textbook. Josh and Marcus are on the
Sunfish
." He beat her to the punch. "Yeah, he's wearing his life preserver. I have Angel today, but she's sleeping. Something wrong?"

"No. Lizbett took the twins to the park. I just thought we'd talk for a while. Can you?"

"Sure." He closed the book, listening to his heart pound.

"How do you sleep?"

"In the nude usually. How about you?"

She laughed softly. "No. I mean how well do you sleep? Do you sleep in Carron's—in the bed you shared with Carron?"

"Mostly I just toss around." Too crowded sometimes. Barely room for him and all the rehashing of his life. "Do you sleep in Tommy's bed?" The bed she and Tommy had shared.

"Some nights I sleep. Mostly I just lie there, waiting."

"For what?" He knew and wondered if she did.

"For the memories to go away and free me."

Bits and pieces of the articles he'd read at the Houston paper were buried like shrapnel in his mind. He kept digging them out, triggered by things she would say. He remembered her telling him she and Tommy were planning to take Marcus, sail to Mexico to live. He distinctly remembered there had been a
bon voyage
party, hosted by Andrea Von Felsberg, on board Tomas Cordera's boat. Coby had boarded uninvited and Tommy had died at Victoria's feet.

"Make some new memories, Victoria."

"I have to."

"Tomorrow is Sunday. What are you doing?" Was she lonely?

"Andrea is coming over."

"Over?"

"Yes. She hops the Concorde and comes for the day."

"Nice."

"We're very close."

"What was her connection with Cordera?"

"They were lovers. Long before I knew him. Maybe after. Tommy said no, but she indicated yes." She laughed softly, disdainfully. "I never knew for sure."

"Christ."

She grew very quiet.

"Do you ever imagine what a conventional relationship could be like?"

"I dream about it all the time."

* * *

She called very early on a morning of the second week and rushed into telling him about her design class, her instructor, seeing an old friend who lived in New York, the possibility of renewing a photography modeling contract she'd once had with a New York based cosmetics company. She elaborated on the weather, the twins' new wardrobe, her plans for the day.

When she paused for breath, he interjected, "Would you like to speak to Marcus? He's beginning to wonder."

"Of course," she said laughing. "Did you think I called to talk to you?"

* * *

She called again before he left for Fischer's Landing, exclaiming, "This is wonderful," when he answered.

His mind darted in all directions.

"Wonderful having a friend like you," she explained. "Someone with no ulterior motives. Knowing you aren't trying to manipulate me for your own gain."

What the hell kind of life had hers been? How long would it take to vindicate living that way?

"Just someone to talk to," she said. "I've never really had that except for Coby, and even he—I just wanted to say thank you, Zac."

"
El gusto es mío
."

"I shouldn't have missed my lessons."

"The pleasure is mine, Vittoria."

* * *

Wednesday of the second week, they talked for hours in the middle of the night before she asked, "Are you seeing anyone?"

"I'm seeing a lot of Marcus Cordera."

She laughed. "I mean—"

Sleeping with anyone.
"Why? Do you have someone in mind for me?"

"I want to invite you somewhere. Sometime. To Rosharron. To a ranch that belongs to Marcus. It's very primitive."

"And you thought of me."

She laughed again.

From the articles, he knew all about Rosharron, where she had spent the fateful, three clandestine days with Tomas Cordera. She had done a lot of thinking in New York, he realized. Who was she thinking about? Him or his look-a-like?

"It's so primitive, you wouldn't have to shave," she said.

Strictly platonic. Beards could chafe skin like hers. "That's tempting."

"We could take Josh. For Lizbett."

"Who would watch your children while we watched those two?">

"It would be more fun for Lizbett if Josh went."

"And more fun for you if I went?"

"I like having an adult to talk to."

"Sounds stimulating."

"Good. I'll plan it."

* * *

"Hi, Zac."

"Hey, Victoria."

His voice sounded sleep logged. She glanced at the clock—Midnight—trying tried to imagine him in bed. She had called earlier that evening. Finding Zac and Marcus out, she spoke to Josh's mother, Sylvania. On a later call, she had reached her goal and spoken with Marcus.

"I didn't think you'd call again," Zac said. "Since you?d talked—"

"I didn't think so, either. I firmed up my contract with the cosmetic company.
Aura
. It's wonderful. They'll come to Puerto San Miguel to do the shoots, and I won't have to leave the children. They'll only be doing my hands right now, for a new nail polish they're marketing. But, I'm happy. The hand modeling will lead to more work."