By Micki L. Bailey

While she shopped for just the right ivory-colored shoes, her mind was elsewhere – in the very recent past. And this was foolish because she really, really should be concentrating on preparations for the upcoming wedding. Her wedding. A mere four point five weeks away.

But she couldn’t seem to get her thoughts around a conversation she’d had with Roger a few days after that magical night when, in his exclusive and arresting style, he had asked her THE question: “So………..you wanna get married?”

The chat that replayed itself in her head now had taken place three evenings following that night over dinner in the loft, the loft that she now officially shared with Roger. His mood had been convivial and charming; he was totally at ease. And she loved seeing/feeling him this way – the warm persona she’d discovered over time under that shimmering, but icy exterior; the real Roger that he revealed to the select handful of people close to him.

And that select handful of people was the topic of their dinner conversation that evening. He was verbally introducing her to two more of the little group – for the sake of the pending nuptials. Clearly, he wanted these two people in attendance. So she listened attentively, and lovingly drank in Roger’s dazzling countenance as he spoke.

Russell Walker was first – an old buddy from Roger’s Vietnam days who now lived on a huge, secluded ranch in Montana. She was told that rarely did Walker venture out of this self-imposed hiding since he’d illegally aided Roger with that whole Isle Pavot disaster, even though Roger had assured him that he was no longer “hunted.” He and a female companion enjoyed life in isolated, safe Big Sky country.

“I want him to be here to witness this,” Roger had said, “even if I havta go out there and get his ass.”

“Will he be pissed that he’s not your best man?”

From Roger’s expression, she could tell that he’d thought this through already. He wrinkled his nose in a tiny snarl. “Maybe……a little..….But he won’t let on………..Besides, that’s already Vinnie’s job.” Roger had it all settled in his brilliant mind. She had no doubt.

The second person up for inauguration into their life together was another friend of his from years gone by – this one a female and former lover. Diane Capella. She was Roger’s age and lived in New York City.

“We’ve been good friends for ten years now………We were lovers for only five months,” he had said during the description/explanation of Diane.

She felt the all too familiar, inescapable pangs of jealously and resentment as soon as another woman in Roger’s life became an issue. She tried to stab them back down. He must have recognized this because he smiled and offered more information.

“We only talk two, maybe three, times a year……….She’s been seeing some attorney for eons……..And she knows ‘bout you. Not about the wedding yet, though. And she’s gonna shit a concrete block when she gets the news.” He looked down and laughed almost silently.

She felt somewhat better then. Damn, I’ll have to curb this green-eyed monstrosity, she thought. He gave me the ring, right? What’s my damn problem?

“What does she look like, Roger?” She couldn’t help herself. She was desperate to know what he’d been attracted to earlier in his life.

He looked up from his plate again with a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Ahhhh, she’s average build and……….dark. Italian, ya know. Nothing extraordinary.” When he winked at her across the table, she knew that he’d very deliberately (and wisely) omitted the comparison, “She’s not tall and blonde……….like you, sweetheart.”

That was about the extent of the Russell/Diane table talk. Roger would contact both of them and insistently invite them to the wedding.

She was undeniably amazed at first that Roger had never mentioned these important people to her before now. But then she understood that she’d probably be gleaming lots more knowledge about this once-mysterious man she was soon to marry. And she decided in her heart that she’d much rather know than not know.

It was all of this that she was brooding over as she rode in the elevator up to the loft now, a month later. She hadn’t found the perfect satin shoes to match her gown. But what the hell. Four point five weeks go to.

Besides, she was exhausted, tense, and frayed. A half day of stressful work at the office, and then a wearying afternoon at two different shopping malls. And her sometimes-raging PMS had picked a rotten time to show up, with the moon phase at full and all. She craved just being home, relaxing.

It was about then that heavenly kitchen smells penetrated her contemplation. Delectable aromas. Garlic and onions sautéing, tomatoes simmering, fresh chicken roasting. It wasn’t an olfactory hallucination. No, it was unquestionably real, and she stood behind the still-closed elevator doors enjoying it.

Roger must be trying his hand in the kitchen again, she thought. And this made her smile. He did this from time to time, when he dared to steal her kingdom from her. And he was quite adept at the art of cooking. But she wasn’t sure if he (or even she) was capable of producing the masterful scents she was experiencing now.

Anxious to see him, she pushed the “Open” button and stepped into the loft. But what she immediately saw over in her kitchen forced all of the air out of her lungs. She vaguely heard herself gasp as she found the gumption to walk closer.

“Excuse me………..What in the hell is going on here?” She forced out the words, maybe a little too loudly. Was she dreaming or what?

The strange woman standing there in her domain looked completely natural. She turned around then, seemingly not alarmed whatsoever.

And she was breath-takingly beautiful in every sense of the word. Long, almost black hair; deep, brown eyes; ravishing, full lips; and exquisite, elegant bone structure. The apron she wore was tied snugly around a comely, supple body.

She smiled calmly. “Making dinner. Wouldya like a glass of wine?” Her voice was rich and low, the accent unfamiliar.

“Would I like a glass of wine? Who are you, and why the hell are you making yourself at home in MY kitchen, offering me things?”

She knew her temper was flaring. She knew she should check it before it leapt out of her hands. But this whole scenario was a little much to ask her to cope with, as stressed as she knew she already was. What was freaking going on here?

The mysterious woman remained cool, and this was terribly unnerving. “I’m Diane………..Roger’s friend from New York. You must be—”

“You’re Diane?” This couldn’t be right, something screamed in her head.

A gorgeous smile spread across the bewitching face. “Yes, I am. Roger didn’t tell ya I was coming to town?”

She tried to breathe deeply and dissipate her still-bristling wrath. She knew she wasn’t handling this well enough to earn a medal. Not even a bronze. “He said you’d be here Saturday afternoon. Today, if I’m not grossly mistaken, is Friday.”

Diane blinked slowly, ignoring the sarcasm. “Well, I’m a little early………So sue me,” she said matter-of-factly and then smiled a warm smile. “And I thought you’d like to take a load off and lemme cook you up something tasty………It’s a hobby of mine, and I don’t have time to do much of it at home.” Then she turned back to the stove, casually.

“So why didn’t somebody clue ME in, huh? That might have been a nice idea!” Her blood was simmering, like the tomato sauce.

Diane looked back over her shoulder. “I dunno, babe. Take that up with Roger.”

Now she slammed her open palm down on the bar between them and failed to notice the elevator close its doors and descend behind her. She’d almost given up on self-restraint. She just wasn’t strong enough today. Why did this person continue to act as if this weird scene was all perfectly normal?

“Look…..….Call me unreasonable, but I’m not real fond of coming home and finding a strange woman in MY kitchen, especially one who used to fuck my boyfriend………So if you’re keeping secrets with him now………..like, say, why you’re here without me knowing about it……..then spit it out. Let’s just be done with it.”

Her voice was cold and hateful, but she was being blazingly consumed inside. She felt like she had too much blood flowing through her veins and it had nowhere to go. Maybe she would just implode.

Diane, still calm, slowly spun around again. Was that a tiny glint of wisdom in her chestnut eyes? She spoke softly and evenly.

“You got it all wrong, babe………You see, I HAD my turn at the elusive, almighty Roger Lococco long ago……….And if I still wanted THAT, I’d still have it………No questions asked………But I don’t……….So knock yourself out and don’t worry ‘bout little ol’ me. He’s all yours, as far as I’m concerned.” Without a smile, she just stood there, glancing briefly at something in the back of the room.

“You bitch,” she retorted angrily and sullenly. “Why don’t you—”

But she didn’t get to finish. Suddenly, she was overtaken, enveloped, swallowed up. Strong, embracing arms surrounding her from behind. Hot, familiar breath in her hair and on her neck. A firm, lean, more-than-familiar body pressing its length against hers. She’d been blind-sided. Tackled unaware. Captured.

“Hey, baby………..Just relax………It’s all right…….Sorry I’m a little late………I forgot about the shopping part……..I meant to surprise you.”

Roger’s delicate, whispered words floated into her ear, almost like gentle purring, and began their subduing, soothing effect instantly. She visibly softened, unconsciously relaxing against him. But the winding down was a gradual process, and they both knew it. Diane watched patiently.

“Roger, I walk in here and discover somebody – a woman, no less – I’ve never seen before in my kitchen……..Cooking!……….And then she acts like it’s no big deal and tells me I should talk to YOU ‘bout it………Now what’s up with that bullshit, huh? What woulda been the harm in letting ME in on the little game?”

She tried to turn around to face him, but he still held her in his tight clutches, his mouth still near her ear. “Because…….a surprise means that you don’t find out ‘til the end.……..You weren’t supposed to get pissed, sweetheart. That wasn’t the plan.” He kissed her neck.

“Well, it’s a little late for that. I’m slightly pissed.” The words were still angry, but her muted voice was almost childlike. They were the only two people in the world.

“C’mon,” he said quietly.

Moving to her side, maintaining his grip on her, and without even glancing in Diane’s direction, Roger herded her off to the bedroom, leaving Diane to her voluntary, goodwill kitchen duties. She moved along with him easily and automatically.

Diane smiled knowingly and quaintly. Then she turned to deal with the rising bread dough.

* * *

When the couple emerged from their retreat an hour later, Diane was humming and elegantly setting the glass and marble table. She’d put a mellow Dave Matthews Band CD on the stereo. The once- ignited atmosphere had returned to peacefulness.

Roger quietly lagged behind, allowing his betrothed to almost sheepishly approach the dining area. She had changed into jeans and was collected and comfortable now. An amused half smile flickered across his face. He was pleased with himself.

“Diane………..I’m sorry for such a hostile welcome………I have a temper worse than hell itself, and you certainly didn’t deserve that.” Her entire demeanor had been transformed. She was a new, compliant persona.

Diane stood up straight and looked at her, that seasoned glint back in her deep brown eyes. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, doll………..I know you’re under intense pressure right now………Shit, if I knew I was about to havta spend all the rest of my days with HIM—” She darted her eyes over to Roger. “—you’d havta commit me for sure. I’d be throwing tantrums night and day.” She laughed, and the whole room got warmer.

“It was still childish of me. Let’s not get off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

Diane waved her slender hand. “No explaining necessary, I told ya. Forget about it……..How ‘bout that glass of wine now?”

“God, yes……….Can I help you with anything, Diane?”

Looking over her shoulder as she went to the fridge, Diane said, “Absolutely not. This is my treat. I love this shit. So just sit your ass down and enjoy it. Roger, you want something while I’m over here?”

“A Heineken would be nice, if ya don’t mind.” He’d sat down at the table next to his beloved and winked silently at her.

As she returned with the drinks, Diane smiled. “You were right, Roger, darling. You got a feisty one here. You musta asked for the deluxe fireworks package when you ordered her. I like that.”

“I knew you would, Diane,” Roger said and took a huge gulp of the beer.

“Can we start all over, Diane? I know you got a crappy first impression of me,” she said.

Diane laughed. “Oh, no, honey. I admire the hell outta you………..the girl with enough balls to commit to HIM. He’s a loaded weapon……….You’ll see.” Again, she looked in Roger’s direction and laughed.

Dinner and the rest of the evening progressed swimmingly. Marvelously, in fact. The ladies, despite their atrocious beginning, got along famously. Roger laughed pleasantly to himself as he listened to their banter in their differing accents. He was still pleased with himself.

To shed some light on her docile new attitude and his overwhelming self-amusement, let’s take a look at what exactly occurred in that hour back in their bedroom:

Once past the partitions and in the bedroom proper, Roger released the reigns and let her go. Free at last, at least physically, she flung herself down on the bed and sighed out loud. Her eyes closed in relief.

“I gotta tell ya, Roger………I’m damned surprised.”

He ran his fingers gracefully through his hair and then sat down on the bed beside her. “This thing ain’t that big of a deal, baby………..I thought you’d enjoy it.”

She opened her eyes and glared at him. “Do I look like I’m enjoying it?”

His turn to sigh loudly. He rolled his eyes along with it. “Look……..I’m sorry it freaked you out………Maybe it was a screwed-in-the-head idea to begin with……..I dunno……..She called yesterday afternoon and said she’d gotten today off and wanted to come down early……….So I got a wild hair………..I know how tired you are on Friday nights……….and, well…..”

“She’s gorgeous, Roger……….Exotic even…….You somehow failed to mention that.”

He stared at her. “Is that what this is about? How she LOOKS, for chrissake?”

“You don’t think she’s gorgeous?”

He took a deep breath. “She’s Diane. I don’t think about what she looks like anymore. Couldn’t mean less to me.”

“Bullshit. Did you see her last night………while you were…….out?” Her voice was taking on the angry tone again.

Roger leaned over her, resting his left arm on her other side. “Sweetheart, she didn’t get into town until this morning. I didn’t even pick her up from the airport……….I met her here around noon and told her where the market is………That’s all.”

She turned her head away from him. “This is hard for me………She’s so…….pretty………and to think that you used to—”

“Baby, cut it out………You’re torturing yourself needlessly………You’re getting pissed off ‘bout nothing…….You gotta stop this…………It’s hopeless.” That lovely sotto voce of his eased her mind again. Like it always did.

Tears sprang to her eyes, and he touched her cheek lightly. “I feel so helpless sometimes……..so outta control………..I need something, Roger……….a port in the storm……….I need you around all the time.”

"I ain’t going anywhere, sweets. You got me." He put his hand in the valley between her breasts and held her eyes with his. A tiny shiver ran through her body.

He spoke softly and intently. "Listen……...What’s important is what’s here……..your soul……….nothing else………and you gotta believe that………you gotta do whatever it takes to keep your center. You don’t need any of that bullshit that throws you off balance and distracts you from what’s important………You understand?"

"Maybe I need a therapist or something," she whispered. This brought the liquid out of her eyes.

"What am I? A brick wall?" He smiled. "You can’t talk to me? I’m listening……..and when have I ever steered ya wrong? I’m right here, baby."

She choked back emotion in her throat. "I love you." And, oh, she did. He was her absolute everything, capable of sustaining her totally. Miracles he had worked for her although no one around them had even noticed.

“Look……..Diane’s not a threat………She’s a good friend……….You’ll love her.” He wiped her tears off her cheeks and throat. “Everything’s gonna be just fine…….Trust me……..Okay?” His piercing eyes bore into her.

“I acted badly out there.”

“You’ve been worse. Don’t fret it…….….Just promise me you’ll work on it…….on what’s bothering you inside………on easing your hostilities……….I taught you how to meditate and that kind of thing……..and there’s yoga and—”

“I know, Roger………I’ll try…….I promise.”

“I love you…….You know that ……..and I want you to be……..whole……and healthy……..and if I can do anything to make that happen, I will…………But you gotta help me, baby……..You gotta help yourself.”

“So you’re as therapeutic as you are handsome,” she said, smiling for the first time in a while.

“What?”

“Your assets are limitless, honey………You’re fuckable in every category.” Her smile became a devilish grin.

He pursed his lips for a minute, then said, “You’re feeling better, Miss Wiseass?”

“And since Diane said she didn’t want your tired ass anymore, I guess that leaves all the spoils to me……..My, what a damn shame.”

He bent down and kissed her mouth. “Shut up……..You’re starting to get on my nerves.”

“You may just havta shut me up, mister……..You smell delicious.”

Still slightly hunched over her, he kissed her chin, her cheeks, her ears, and her mouth again as she moaned quietly. Then she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down onto her, sliding her body over so that he could join her fully on the bed.

“We have a guest,” he said, with his hand under her shirt, on her breast.

“I’m aware of that, thank you……..A guest who I was very rude to earlier.” She was slowly rubbing his crotch.

“And we shouldn’t be in here fucking around, you horny vixen.”

“Hey…….YOU brought me back here…….forcefully, I might add.”

“I brought you back here to get our little drama off center stage, to reprogram your ass, to get you back on track,” he said. Then he kissed the hollow spot at the base of her throat.

“And you’ve done a most excellent job, I must say, Dr. Lococco.”

“Did you doubt me, baby?”

“Not in the least bit.” She kissed his chest.

“I know what it is you need.”

“Ah, Roger, lemme give you something YOU need right now…….please.”

“No. Not ‘til after dinner…….Now c’mon……..Get up and fix your face…….We gotta at least pretend to be respectable.”

“Thank you, Roger……..again……..for trying to surprise me tonight even though I fucked it up………for helping me now……..for saving my life roughly one million times……..for everything.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

He stood up and held out his hand for her. She gladly took it and was swiftly pulled up into his arms. Into heaven. He held her against him for a few seconds, comfortingly and protectively. Once again, they were the only two people in the world. Pressed into him, breathing only him, she knew that this gesture was symbolic of their union – they were at their personal bests when they were joined.

A few minutes later, refreshed and starving, they re-entered the area of the loft where their guest was waiting for them. Dave Matthews was on the CD player crooning about two people joyously “crashing” into each other.

* * *

Months later, in bed with Vinnie, Diane fondly remembered the whole incident and related it all to him. Embellishing here and there, of course. “God, you shoulda seen what a taming effect he had on her…………..immediately!” she said.

Vinnie chuckled in the darkness. “Been there. Seen it………..And it works both ways too……….I’ve seen him completely wound up and frantic……..Then she comes along and settles him right down……Just like that………It’s amazing……..like two interlocking pieces of some weird ancient puzzle or something……...Spooky.”

“One of those sweet, unexplained mysteries of life, I guess,” she whispered against his chest.

“Yeah…….whatever.”