Moments in Time

Chapter 7-2

Nancy looks my way. “And how’s Alan doing?”

“Alan’s fine,” I say as she leans in, brushing my cheeks with a kiss as well. “Trying to stay out of trouble.”

Lenny says, “I have to get back to my brief.” He puts his hand out to me again. “Alan, give me a call. We need to set up our weekly golf dates for next year.”

I golf? “Sure, will do,” I say, and watch him leave the room. I have no idea how good I’m supposed to be. I get a flash of me whiffing on the ball and shiver.

I golf?Nancy turns back to Tommy. “There’s a batch of cannolis out on the kitchen counter calling your name, I think.” When Tommy runs out of the room, Monica calls after him in her clipped Italian tone, “Don’t you make a meal of ’em!”

Nancy grins. “They’re minis,” she says, then adds, “Have you spoken with your mom and dad lately?”

“Last week. They’re wrapping up their trip to Greece and will be home next Friday. Have you and Lenny given any thought to Thanksgiving this year?”

“Not yet. I assume we’ll be going to your parents’ as usual?”

“Probably, assuming the addition to the mansion’s finished,” Monica says and chuckles. “My padre, God love him. He can’t stop adding onto the damned thing.”

mansion’sMansion? And this is what? A chalet? I can’t image what that looks like. I check my watch and tap Monica’s arm. “Well, we should be on our way.”

Mansion? And this is what? A chalet?“Of course,” Nancy says. “By the way, where are you two going tonight?”

“He won’t tell me, the stinker,” Monica says, side-eyeing me with a saucy smile.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” I dig into my jacket pocket and hand Nancy a note with a number she can reach us at in case of emergency. “We’ll be back before too late.”

“Take your time and enjoy, and happy birthday, Monie. You got my card, right?” Nancy says.

“Yes, I did, and thanks. It was very generous of you and Lenny,” Monica replies, then turns toward the passage on our right and peers down the hall. “Tommy, we’re leaving. Come and give your madre a hug.”

He runs in and wraps his arms around his mother and me, then scoots back out. As we head down the hall, this new world unfurling around me leaves me feeling like an imposter trying to fit in where I don’t belong, yet, here I am, with no going back. How am I ever going to get used to it, pretend to be the husband she married, the father Tommy deserves? The velvet case in my jacket pocket containing Monica’s birthday present bumps against my chest, reminding me that it’s only there because it’s her birthday: a simple mindless purchase on my part without any emotional intention behind it. It might as well be a check for the $5500 I spent on it. And dinner tonight at our restaurant—not our restaurant, her restaurant—might as well be McDonalds. I have no connection, no memories of this place where I proposed to her in this life.

herNancy sees us out the front door, and an hour later, we’re at the Top of the Hill, sitting at a secluded table near a broad divided pane window looking out on a garden of purple and yellow mums, flowering red viburnum, and ornamental grasses. To my delight, Monica’s thrilled with my choice of venue, and she’s been tossing me loving glances for the last fifteen minutes while we sip our wine. A chardonnay she prefers. I wonder how she doesn’t see the imposter across from her who doesn’t know himself. Am I that good at faking it, or am I an illusion so embedded in her mind she can’t separate the man she married from the man in front of her?

Our meals are delivered to us on fine Nortaki china. Chantilly potatoes, seasoned green beans, and succulent filets of beef drizzled with mushroom wine sauce are arranged like artwork on our plates. When the waiter leaves, Monica looks up and eyes me as if I were a pair of high-end designer shoes. “Just wait until I get you home,” she says just above a whisper, her Italian accent thick with innuendo.

“Oh, what did I do,” I answer, playing along.

“More like what I’m going to do to you. It’s my birthday, and there’s a certain gift I plan on opening.”

“Oh, really? Will I be alive in the morning?”

“Maybe.” She nibbles her lip. I feel her shoe run up my pant leg under the table.

I squirm. Wait until you see what’s in my pocket. “You keep that up and we’re going to be arrested.”

Wait until you see what’s in my pocket.“Promises, promises,” she says, and sips her wine. For a moment we gaze at each other, and the alluring look in her eye turns wistful. “Do you know how much I love you?”

My body scrambles to adjust to the new direction she’s taking our conversation. I tamp down the little man downstairs and engage the big head upstairs. “I wouldn’t begin to try to guess. All I know is how I feel,” I say, wishing with all my heart it were true. I suddenly find myself wanting to be the man she thinks I am; not just for her, but for me. “A toast,” I say, “to many more wonderful birthdays for my beautiful wife.”

She clinks her wine glass on mine. After she sips, she says, “When you look at me like that, I fall in love all over again with you, Baby.”

The soft-spoken words sting me like a hot firebrand. I pretend to cough because I have to look away so she won’t see the lie on my face. Finally, I say, “I hope I’ll never forget to look at you like that.” Should I give her the necklace now? Our meals are in the way, though, so I pick up my knife and fork. “Let’s eat before our food gets cold.”

Should I give her the necklace now?The filets are done to perfection. The wine sauce is light and flavorful, just the way I like it: not intrusive. The beans are tender-crisp and seasoned with thyme and rosemary. The potatoes are fluffed and perky and not overwhelmed with cheese. At length, I set my knife and fork down and drink my last gulp of wine.

Monica is still working on her filet. She’s a picker when it comes to dining, taking little bites of this and that. I sit back, sated, and look out the window, wondering how she’ll react to her birthday present.

“Something on your mind,” she says.

“Just thinking,” I reply, turning to her.

“About what?”

“About your birthday present. Hoping you’ll like it.”

She sets her knife and fork down, dabs her mouth with a napkin. “Oh, there’s more?”

I give her what Tiff used to call one of my lazy smiles and pull the case out of my pocket and set it on the table.

“What’s this?”

Pushing it to her, I say, “A little something to remind you of me.”

She picks it up, darts a glance back, then opens it. For a minute she stares down at the necklace inside, then looks up. The wan expression on her face leaves me to wonder if she’s troubled but doesn’t know how to tell me. Suddenly, the air goes out of the room and my heart thumps. “It’s beautiful, thank you, but where did you get the money for this?”

Uh-oh! The money in the account was earmarked for something I didn’t know about, but what? There’s no bluffing my way out of this and I’m at a loss for words.

Uh-oh! “Is this on credit?” she asks, and when I pause, her eyes widen. “You took it from savings, didn’t you?” She looks upward, her nose flared, and grits her teeth. “Alan, you know what that money is there for! We’ve always agreed to discuss major purchases. Why would you do this?” she snaps, glaring at me.

“I just wanted to get you something nice,” I stammer. “I can take it back.”

Her hands fly up in the air. “You think?” She shuts the case and pushes it back to me. Well, that concludes tonight’s festivities. What was I thinking, taking money that didn’t belong to me? When I look away, she pipes up, “Alan, look at me.”

Well, that concludes tonight’s festivities. What was I thinking, taking money that didn’t belong to me?Reluctantly, I turn to see her sudden fury has dissolved into a sober expression.

“I love that you wanted to shower me with this, but the money is for you and me and Tommy: all of us. And yes, there’s a lot of it, but it’s portioned out ’til I get the next deposit from my trust, which isn’t until the first of the year. In the meantime, we have a mortgage to pay, a household to support and—ding-dong—hello, a trip to Disney World we promised Tommy coming up.”

A trip to Disney World? Now, I feel like a total schmuck. But how can I tell her I didn’t know, that I was dropped into this body less than a week ago from the future—a future that doesn’t include her or Tommy?