Notoriously Beautiful

27/28/29/30

Distractions

(The next morning December 23rd)
I wake up quickly to the annoying, but very useful, barking alarm noise, on the clock I set on my cell phone. A Golden Retriever, a German Shepherd, a Scottish terrier? Which one does the cell phone pre-set as the barking noise option? The world may never know!
I wear a fitted long sleeve thin shirt, with a checkered no sleeve dress on top. I rush downstairs and grab a snack bar, by the kitchen island. I'm full of adrenaline. I slide over to the door, maneuver my boots on my feet, without using my hands, wrap my jacket around my shoulders, and turn the door knob.
I forgot! My mom most definitely wants to come with us, we are going to Central Park today, and I won't except any other reason not to! This time I can't slide because my boots won't allow, but still I rush up quickly, rattle my mom's shoulders, because she's still in bed, and she awakens.
"Andiamo," (let's go) I say.
She gets out of bed and follows me downstairs once she's dressed. Like an exact clone of me she slides to the kitchen island and takes a snack bar from the basket. There was no way she could have seen me, she was sleeping, for Pete's sake! Like mother, like daughter I guess.
We head into the car, and drive to Dominick's house to pick up Marco and Rebecca. This trip will continue, we can't let fear and despair ruin our vacation. We can't let Ethan be the cause of a Christmas of sorrows. Marco should be feeling much healthier today; the feeling of shock has most likely passed. Sometimes it's the mental effects of an incident that takes away something from you. For Marco it is presumably his new found detestation for New York City.
I stop, why does twenty minutes pass quicker in America?
I walk up to the entrance and knock. I could use the doorbell but I don't like to. Depending on the frequency of the bell, Dominick's dog, Jack, will get too hyper, and start barking. It's too early in the daytime to hear a dog bark incessantly.
Dominick answers the door, he's ready eyed. Maybe he got emotional at the thought of Marco getting hurt. He doesn't seem like the emotion type of guy. Maybe something else has been going on, I remember last time when we met he looked confused.
"Is everything okay, Dom?" I ask him. My nose is itchy, even though there's no pollen this time of year.
"Oh this?" He points to his watering eyes.
He goes on, "that's nothing, I'm just a little upset about Susan. You don't know her, or maybe you do, but that's not the point," he mumbles.
I can tell he wants to tell me anything and everything, but he holds back.
"You're probably going out with Marco and Rebecca, it's fine. Go and have fun," he turns around reluctantly.
"No wait, if there's something you want to tell me, I can listen. I love to listen!" I say, breaking my promise to myself. I said nothing would get in the way of me and Central Park.
"Really?" He looks so stunned. It's kind of sad that he's so surprised someone, anyone, was willing to listen. Has he told Marco?
"I'll come in," I say, disregarding his question, because of course I'm serious. Of course I'm willing to listen. Of course I would never want to see anyone with watering eyes.
We walk in, though I've only been in this house once before, it seems familiar. Maybe it's the drapes, the same burgundy color as my Nonna's old house. Maybe it's the chandelier, it's similar to Nicole's. Maybe it's the checkered black-and-white tiled floor in the kitchen, that reminds me of a show I used to watch when I was younger.
I take a seat on the couch, Marco is drinking coffee but I don't say hello, I don't say anything to him. I don't feel like saying anything. I sit in the spot on the couch that faces the kitchen, and a stare at him. He's just drinking coffee, a short black coffee. He's either looking at me, or the plant by my head. He's probably looking at me.
Even though I don't want to, the tip of my slip curls, and a smirk arises upon my face. This only occurs because of his grin, that has been present for a while now.
I break the moment by blinking, and turn towards Dominick, who is now seated next to me.
"Susan, my beloved Susan." He starts with a sigh.
"Go on," I say, we don't have all day.
"A classic example of unfaithfulness, a classic example, really. Didn't this happen in foreign movies long before I was born?" I talks, but I'm not sure I understand.
"Okay, so Susan, who was your..." I question.
"Girlfriend, of six years," he says.
"So Susan your girlfriend cheated on you, and you caught her?" I ask, trying to finish the puzzle.
"No, she would never," he gasps in shock.
Not going to lie, Dom is a lot weirder than I remember.
"Okay, so what do you mean when you say she was unfaithful?" I ask. What else could that be referring to?
"We were co-workers, running for the same promotion. She told me she didn't love me, we broke up, and she got me fired." He says.
"That is terrible, I'm so sorry. How?" I ask.
"She told our boss I'd abuse her, so that she wouldn't accept the promotion if she was given it." He says, now he looks disgusted.
"But it wasn't true." I say, it wasn't a question, I know Dom could never do that.
"It wasn't, but nowadays if the boss didn't fire me, he'd fear a lawsuit on some legal grounds he's not familiar with." Dom finishes.
I don't know what to tell him. Susan was clearing a...a...I'm not sure. Maybe she was confused, maybe she was just evil.
"Describe her," I glance up, out of this deep conversation to see Marco. He's surely getting a kick out of this.
"5'5, blonde hair, brown eyes, average weight, glasses. There's more, creative, artistic, hardworking...(he pauses)...vicious, evil, gross, terrible, mean," he stops for air.
"What would you say, if I told you I had a girl for you. A 5'8, brunette, blue eyed, skinny, no glasses girl who is amazing, smart, funny, kind, and humble," I say.
"I'd say you were lying," he answers. I hear Marco laugh, he knows I'm talking about Nicole.
"I've met her Dominick. She's great," Marco chimes in.
Dominick is a handsome man, even though he's a little awkward, I'm sure Nicole won't mind. Half the time when she's drunk, awkward equals hilarious.
"I'm setting it up." My voice flutters as I pick myself off the couch.
"Really?" This is the second time he's said that. I really don't understand why.
"Yes, really."
"Thank you," he sounds so uplifted, hopefully Nicole can keep this one. He's kind hearted, Dom is what she needs.
This is going to be special.
"Want to watch Mamma Mia?" Dom asks.
"We have things to do, my friend," I pat his shoulder and begin to walk out. Things to do, places to be, as they say.
"Are you sure? Meryl Streep is totally amazing," Dom says, he grabs his glasses off the little nightstand next to the couch. The glasses suit him nicely.
"I'm quite sure," I say, reaching the door knob.
Enzo follows me, and I start up the heat in the car before Rebecca freezes when she comes.
Another person opens the door after Enzo. Rebecca, she is extra prepared with layers of thick, perhaps wool clothes, I can tell by the way her jacket is tight on her. Just yesterday it was fairly losse. All the cloth bunches up inside the zippers line.
She slams the car door closed once she's in, is this act performed out of anger, or simply wanting out of the persistent cold?
She rolls an R sound with her tongue, as to say my fingers are frostbitten, but not really.
"Manhattan," she finally says, and smiles. I can see her through the rear view mirror perfectly.
Hopefully there won't be that much traffic, but I'm a sceptic. Traffic is always vexing when there are things to do, and little time to do them. It's all about time. I really don't think I would mind waiting in traffic if I had an endless amount of time. What would be an hour of waiting in the car, if I had all of eternity to just spend my time. Immortality, disgusting, that's what the afterlife is for. Why would I want to live forever on this appalling, dreadful Earth?
I'm driving without any navigation maps, because I know the way to the city all too well. I'm driving but up ahead I see lines of cars on the expressway. Of course I have to slow down.
I don't bother honking, it won't solve the problem, it won't get me to Central Park quicker.
"Traffic," I say, what a stupid thing to say, of course they know what it is. They aren't from Mars! Unless...? That would actually be kind of funny.
"We have time," Marco says. Do we? But do we really?
"How are you so sure?" I ask. I don't know what is coming over me. I feel this urge to just act now, to live life now. To pick myself out from the sun roof of the car and scream, or maybe sing.
Rebecca clears her throat, and tells us a story.
She says that when she was young, she was very beautiful, and that all the boys in the town wanted to marry her. She didn't want to marry any of them, Rebecca says she would trick the foolish boys.
"Come?" (How?) I ask.
She tells us, she would tell the boys to bring her something that shows how much they loved her, and each one would bring things. She says one brought a necklace, and one even brought her a horse. She didn't get them anything though, and when she married Marco's father, she kept all those wonderful gifts, and she got to marry someone she loved too.
I smile, and Marco smiles as well, but I don't know what to say. I know Rebecca's husband has passed now, and I know she loved him with all her heart. Traffic isn't that bad, so long as you have good company while you're waiting.
I look back at the road, and the traffic is slowly clearing, the cars in front of us pick up speed. I press the gas gently, and turn on the radio. I like the radio on a low volume in the car, so I can try to focus on the lyrics even with the other things happening simultaneously.
"An hour?" Marco says, checking his watch.
It's been an hour, but we still aren't there. Mr.Traffic decided he wants to interrupt again. Mr.Traffic! I crack myself up sometimes.
"We have time," Marco says again.
I see Rebecca's lips putting together another one of her stories, and I'll listen.
My mom snuggles up with Rebecca in the back row, it's still cold, even with the heat on.
Rebecca says it's time for another tale, one from even longer ago.
I really hope I don't fall asleep, that won't most definitely be rude. Especially behind the wheel.