They met at the racetrack. He took the day off from work and she was unemployed. Both were married. He worked for the city pasting posters on billboards in a subway station along Lexington avenue. He was not proud of his job and hated his work. whenever strangers asked him what he did for a living, he would answer, "I'm in advertising. I work along Madison Avenue on the upper East Side."

"Tony, where exactly on the upper east Side do you work?"

He would give no answer.

It was not a lie but an extension of the truth. Variously people were either impressed or amused. Tony was married. He had been for more than ten years. His wife Luisa was a simple Italian girl who made a good gravy and cooked her pasta al dente. She also sang a shrill, off-key soprano in the church choir. She was the kind of person who would have erased the blackboards for the teacher in elementary school without ever having been asked. In short, she was the perfect mother and homemaker. She covered all of her furniture in plastic lest guests should drop a cup of coffee (God forbid) on them, and over the sofa in the living room was a picture of Mount Vesuvius overlooking the Bay of Naples.

When she welcomed guests she demonstrated the pictures by plugging a wire into a socket in the wall. The volcano would then activate shooting lava out of its cone and down its side.

"How do you like it? Isn't it beautiful?" she would ask everyone.

Such was her simplicity and the limit of her good taste.

Luisa's home was spotless and she spent most of the day cleaning it while listening to Tony Bennett records. Her children were immaculately groomed and well-bred.

She loved Tony to the point of idolatry and didn't much care what he did for a living as long as he came back to her at night. After all, there are worse jobs in life than gluing up posters in New York subways. To her it was better than being, say, a grave digger.

Tony's feelings were reciprocal but not as intense and he was happy enough until he met Stella at the racetrack. Their meeting was casual and their feelings for each other were spontaneous and open. They never intended to get involved with each other in the way they did but destiny takes a strange twist and men are not always rulers of their lives.

They had bet on the same horse. That's how it all started and they were standing next to each other during the race. They placed all of their money on Great Expectation who was running with 10-1 odds against him. He started out a loser and dragged dismally behind the others until half-way through the race. Then he slowly began to move into the lead. It was a miraculous recovery for a horse whom the experts had determined would end up close to last. He moved into third and then second place. The crowd was hysterical.

Stella began to scream without restraint. "Come on, Great Expectation! Come On!

Move your ass!"

Tony also jumped up and began to scream encouraged by Stella's excitement. Great Expectations moved into first place and won by a photo finish.

Stella and Tony clutched each other ecstatically and hysterically. It was the first time either of them had ever won before at the races. Stella once won a package of groceries at the supermarket for guessing the number of pennies in a jar. Tony always believed he was one of life's great losers. That's why he bet his money on Great Expectations. He did it as a joke.

When the initial excitement wore down, their eyes locked and they found themselves still clutching each other while the world dissolved around them.

Between the two of them they had won over a thousand dollars and decided to go somewhere to celebrate. They found a nice attractive Italian restaurant with Spanish waiters and black chefs appropriately called, "La Ponte Negra." It had a piano bar and was dimly lit by dripless candles. The hours passed and they became oblivious of the night descending upon them. It required no effort to check into a three-hour-rate hotel near the airport. As the planes revved up their engines and took off, they did likewise.

When Tony reached home that evening his wife Luisa was waiting for him. She was naively worried and thought he had met with an accident.

"why didn't you call? I was so worried." She had every right to be." I left some food on the stove for you. I'll heat it up."

"You don't have to bother," he replied, "I've already eaten."

That night, as he lay next to Luisa, he knew it was over. Her touch chilled him. It was like a claw clutching his body and she felt like an insect crawling over his flesh.

The next morning he left and didn't return home for three weeks.

Stella's reaction with her husband was similar but not as dramatic. She felt a glow as though sunlight were streaming through her body. It was an incandescent warmth she had never known with her husband, Marco. They had no children, not by choice but rather by fate. As desperately as they had wanted children, she was unable to bear them. Her husband never mentioned divorce but his feelings towards her had cooled over the years fostered by his disappointment. They used to talk about it during the first years of their marriage but now it was hardly ever mentioned and together their life became a habit and the topic of children became taboo.

Stella and Tony met the next day and the day after at convenient times and inconvenient places. Whatever winnings they had made on Great Expectations were soon depleted and they never mentioned their winnings to their respective spouses.

They soon decided to rent a room together and began to live to live as one. It sounded better that adultery. Louisa found out about them and was devastated. Marco was relieved. Before the year was over Marco and Stella were happily divorced. It was an easy settlement with out remorse or bitterness. They even broke open a bottle of champagne. Marco had not been shocked at Stella's unfaithfulness. He himself. He himself had a girl on the side and felt free to unburden that relationship on Stella. When she found out, she called him a "son-of-a-bitch" as they clinked glasses toasting their liberation from one another.

They remained friends for a while and then drifted. Their divorce was happier than their marriage but their mutual betrayal gave them little cause to trust each other and to maintain an honest relationship in an way.

With Luisa and Tony it was a different scenario. Her devastation went to despair. She consulted priests and faith-healers. She lit candles in church and recited rosaries at side altars. She wore the black veil of a widow and wept until tears formed rivets which cascaded down her cheeks. The flowery bloom in her face withered as she aged and grayed. She even went so far as to consult a medium to make contact with her dead mother with the hope of getting some advice from the other side of eternity, but to no avail.

Tony felt a tinge of guilt for his betrayal but not much more than that. Yet, beneath his indifferent exterior he did care for Luisa but he no longer loved her. He didn't bother to explain to his children. They were too young to understand and he figured that in time they would begin to comprehend the ways of love and relationships and accept what for them now was incomprehensible.

Stella and Tony lived together in a small three room apartment in the middle of the East Village where any combination of two people could be found. Their neighbors consisted of lesbians, transvestites and homosexuals and people never registered shock over what brought couples together. They lived like two middle-aged love birds, two Romeo and Juliets, but not for long.

Tony's wife, Luisa, grew deeper in her faith and wallowed in her depression. She lived out her role as the Mother of Sorrows with the hope that someday Tony would return to her. She figured that his relationship with Stella would sour in a year or two. She heard rumors of their fights and arguments but had no first hand proof to claim their truth. She prayed to St. Jude for the impossible and refused to grant Tony a divorce.

Tony never pressed her to divorce him. He felt he had hurt her enough. He consoled her by telling her she was a fantastic wife, dedicated mother, tidy housekeeper and nice person. Of all the persons he did not love he liked her the best.

If only she would have just gotten rid of all those statues of the Virgin and the vigil lights in the bedroom perhaps she might have been able to accept her fate more graciously, but now it was too late. Her bedroom looked more like a chapel every day and her prayers for justice and revenge went unanswered.

The hope that he would someday return to her gave Luisa her only cause to live. Happiness totally evaded her. She even resented her children as they grew older and forgave their father cohabitation with Stella. What really killed Luisa was that the children sometimes visited their father in the village and came back with words of praise for Stella.

Luisa on such occasions became philosophical and would tell the kids, "They're not even married. They're living in sin." But the, not really wanting to turn her children against their father she would add, "You must pray for him that he gets back his right head and comes home to me."

After fifteen years of living together with Stella it became unlikely that Tony would ever return home. The thought never occurred to him and, with the passing of each year, the possibility became even more remote.

Stella though was not happy. There was no doubting the fact that she loved him, but she did not relish the state of cohabitation.

"Tony, let's get married."

"But we are like married."

"Being like married is not the same as being married." She tried to explain.

"What's wrong with the way we're living now?"

"Nothing. But I want it to be official. I mean, let's get married in a church or city Hall or someplace."

"Why do we need a piece of paper to say we love each other?"

That piece of paper saying they were married was what Stella wanted more than anything else. She could forego the white gown and veil and a bouquet of pink carnations but in the eyes of her friends and neighbors she wanted to be legally married to the man she loved.

"Luisa won't give me a divorce."

"That's because you don't press her to give you one. As long as you don't pres her for a divorce, you give her the false hope you'll return to her someday." Stella spurted out defensively.

"She won't give me a divorce because she's so damned Catholic."

"That isn't true."

"It is so, Stella. It's you I've been living with these past fifteen years and not her. What's the matter with you?"

He was always angry when she pursued this course of argument because nothing was ever resolved. Hardly a day passed when there was not a confrontation between the two of them born of constant frustration. Arguments grew over the slightest trifle.

"Tony, you forgot to take out the garbage. How many times do I have to tell you to take out the garbage?"

"I'll take it out later when I walk the dog."

"Take it out now. I don't want roaches in the house."

"Well, then take it out yourself."

On another occasion they found reason to argue about the cats. This time it was Tony's chance to initiate a quarrel.

"Stella, you forgot to feed the cats this morning."

"What are you talking about? I gave them milk."

"You know they need more than milk. They need cat food."

"They're getting too fat. If you're so worried about them, then feed them yourself."

Whenever they fought like this Tony would go down afterwards to the Lotus Coffee Shop. It was his refuge and hangout and everyone there knew him as a regular customer.

"What'll it be, Tony?"

"The usual."

"You look down. Wha'da ya fight with the missus again?"

"Yeah." Was all that he could reply.

Depending upon the time of day "the usual" could be anything from two eggs over lightly, to a cheese burger or a club sandwich. He usually sat there for hours talking about everything in particular but nothing much in general, but he never criticized Stella because he still loved her.

The fighting rarely abated and like their former marriages their own relationship had set into a familiar groove which became a habit. Half the time they were not even aware that they were fighting. And so it went on for years, the same fighting over garbage and cats, the same bickering and the constant nagging. Like an unresolved chord, their love struck a dissonant sort of harmony.

The years passed and Luisa continued to pray. Marco disappeared and Stella and Tony continued to argue. One day Stella went to the doctor with a stomach ailment which she attributed to "agita." It was an agita which lasted two weeks so a visit to the doctor was in order. Stella hated doctors. They thought they knew everything. She never told them the whole truth. After all, if she was expected to pay such an exorbitant price for just a simple visit, it was up to them to determine the cause of her ailment without her supplying most of the information. Such was her thinking.

"So, what's the problem?" the doctor asked.

"Agita. I've got agita and it's giving me a headache."

The doctor smiled." Agita usually doesn't give you a headache." He corrected her gently.

"You see," Stella said to herself, "These doctors know everything."

"Are you still fighting with Tony?" The doctor knew of their ongoing battles and sensed that part of her problem was her nervous condition brought on by the constant confrontation of their relationship.

She nodded. "But this has nothing to do with that."

"Well, let's take a few tests." The doctor encouraged.

After a series of X-rays, blood tests, urine analysis, and routine blood pressure readings the doctor calmly advised Stella to return in a week.

That evening Tony asked, "What did you do today?"

"I went to the doctor."

"The doctor? Why the doctor? You look fine to me."

"I've got agita. So I went to have him check it out."

"Agita! That's no big deal. I've got hemorrhoids."

"Tony!," Stella pleaded, "Stop!" And that was the end of the conversation.

A week later the doctor's office was crowded with patients. When it was Stella's turn the doctor greeted her seriously.

"How's your agita?" he asked.

" I can't get rid of it. Tony bothers me. He doesn't take me seriously anymore."

"Well, the tests came back," the doctor continued." I've got some good news for you. You're stomach is fine. A change of diet and less aggravation will help get rid of the agita, but there's something else which is more serious."

"What could that be?" Stella asked a bit concerned.

The doctor took an X-ray and placed it on the screen. He pointed to a spot which meant nothing to anyone who could not read X-rays.

"The X-ray shows there's something on the liver. A growth of some kind. We need to take a few more tests and then we can be more sure. In the meantime I'll give you some medicine to take twice a day."

"Doctors think they know everything," Stella thought to herself but a sense of panic rippled through her as she imagined the worst scenario possible. "A growth of some kind on the liver? Perhaps it was a cyst of some kind. That's it! It must be a cyst. Besides, I don't feel any pain in the liver. Just a little agita in the stomach. Cysts are harmless. They are easily removed through simple surgery. A quick operation with minimum risk and then I'll be fine."

Stella's thoughts raced through her head in no set pattern of logic. She was convinced that the results of the tests would prove her fears to be unfounded and waited a week before returning to the doctor.

The results of the second battery of tests arrived and they were not encouraging.

"Stella," the doctor said seriously, "The growth is larger than expected and the blood tests are irregular. I think we must first operate and then recommend some chemotherapy. The growth appears to be enlarging."

Stella was dumb-struck but not devastated. She was generally optimistic and placed her hands with confidence and trust into the doctor's hands. After all, doctor's know everything.

The operation was performed and Tony was there in the recovery room when Stella revived.

"Hi. How do you feel?" was all that he could say at first.

The feeling of romance had completely left their relationship. The excitement of the racetrack hugs had long since vanished. All that remained was a sense of duty and responsibility. All he could say now was, "Hi. Hoe do you feel?"

Stella was weak. The operation and medication had drained her of all her energy and she could barely speak through lips parched by medication and anesthesia.

"I'm thirsty," she muttered with resignation in a voice that was barely audible.

"Please don't worry about me."

Tony was deeply worried. The muted love he felt for Stella was now beyond expression even though the sense of romance was gone. When reduced to its basics it expressed itself as, "Hi. How do you feel?" but at this moment he wanted to say much more. What was in his heart could only be expressed in trite phrases and this sense of inept limitation soured the poetry within his soul.

"The doctor says you're gonna be fine." Tony was ashamed of his lie. He received no such encouragement from the doctor but felt that it was the right thing to say. Stella listened but did not move. She lacked both the will and the energy to respond.

Her recovery was miraculous. Within a week she was walking. Within two weeks she regained her color and within a month she was feeling better than she had felt all year, and what was more, her agita was gone.

Tony had also changed. He was very supportive during her convalescence and genuinely worried. He nursed her to health and most important of all, the arguments between them had stopped.

Luisa learned of Stella's illness and nurtured a secret vindictive victory. "So", she thought to herself, "this is how God answered my prayers." This gloating led to guilt and she added an extra decade to each rosary to atone for her warped joy. Luisa had reconciled herself to her doomed relationship with Tony, but decided she would not divorce him even if he begged and insisted. In Luisa's mind Stella would go to her death an adulteress.

Stella was soon looking fine again and the doctors assured her that all of the cancer had been removed.

"We were lucky to have caught it before it began to spread to other organs and the lymph glands. I think we got it all out and we're in the clear now."

These words of encouragement were only taken at face value. Stella knew that total recovery from liver cancer was rare, and that after a brief period of remission it awakens and sweeps right through the body. She was still in the stage of denial and didn't believe that the rules of the game applied entirely to her. Somehow she wanted not only to beat the odds but to defy them.

She was also moved by the tenderness which Tony showed to her during her illness and felt he had changed considerably through experiencing her suffering. So she brought up a topic which had remained taboo for years.

"Tony, let's get married."

Tony simple said, "But, Stella, we are married."

"No, you know what I mean. Let's really get married."

"Marriage is only a piece of paper. Isn't it better that we just stay together?"

That was the end of it. She tried to disguise her disappointment and hurt. Maybe

he was right. With her recent bout with cancer she realized that a piece of paper does not make a marriage anymore than an operation makes a cure. But in her mind that paper was a sign of authenticity, something like the official papers one gets in important business transactions, a mark of authenticity, a sign of commitment, but she never brought up the topic again and waited for the cancer to reemerge to consume her body. She didn't care.

One day at the end of the summer and on a night that was still moist from an afternoon rain, Stella began to feel a nausea and pain. It was a sharp pain which made her clutch her side. She was rushed to the hospital and given emergency treatment. Laden with pain killers and antibiotics, she sensed a numbness rather than a calm. She was anesthetized like nature before a storm. Tony was with her and the doctor was soon to arrive.

Stella knew that death was near. Her eyes filled with emotion and she turned to the man who left his wife and three children two decades ago to be with her.

"Tony, I'm not a bad person, am I?"

Whatever prompted her to ask this was beyond Tony's comprehension. In all the years he knew her she never spoke of bad or good, of sin or evil of God or Redemption.

"Do you think God will forgive me?" she begged.

"Forgive you for what? You've done nothing wrong."

"For taking you away from your wife and children. I didn't mean to break up your family. I'm sorry."

Her voice choked with emotion as though she were confiding in a final confession. Tony could not answer. He was left with nothing to say.

Later when the doctor entered to check her blood pressure and heart beat, she asked him the same questions.

"I don't think God has time to punish us. I'm not even sure he has time to worry about us. There are just too many of us today, that's why we must worry and care for each other."

These words were meant to comfort Stella but they had the opposite effect. God loves us because we all too often take each other for granted, and if he had no time to worry about us because of our numbers, then what is the purpose of eternity where time does not exist? If God who lives in the Eternal realm of time and has no time for man, then why should man with his own needs find time at all for others?

" Doctors," she said to herself in despair, "They have all the answers."

Her condition worsened rapidly and complications with the pancreas developed. The pain was intense and morphine flowed through her veins killing the sensations of her nerves and inducing a state of nirvana known only to the Buddha before he reached enlightenment. Her mind drifted in and out of consciousness and the line between the two worlds of reality and dreams became a blur.

On a Saturday morning, the first day of autumn to be exact, she fell into a coma-like sleep from which she never emerged. Tony had not been at her side when she died and he was numb with grief. Luisa, who had never met Stella, attended her funeral. She did it as a sign of respect and, although she had gloated when she first heard of Stella's cancer, she now felt somber an saddened to see Stella waked in a simple white gown with a white veil and pink carnations in her hands. Her death was the wedding she had been waiting for. In her coffin she maintained a calm dignity. Death had exerted its own kind of beauty and power.

Luisa felt sorry for Tony. As he sat next to the coffin she knew that he now had no one. Twenty years of waiting had taught her that she could never take him back.

A month after the funeral Tony met a friend of Stella's whom he had known and met occasionally. He was looking wan and haggard. The friend spoke of Stella and mentioned how much she had always wanted to have been married. For some reason that piece of paper meant so much to her. In retrospect, if it had meant so little to him and so much to her, he should have gone through with the ceremony, even if only to make her happy.

In later years Luisa would probably have granted him a divorce had he pursued and insisted. She realized after the tenth year of separation that her marriage to Tony would never be reconciled.

The years passed and Tony at the age of sixty took a fancy towards Korean teenage girls, young nymphs who divided their time between studying for Harvard and Yale and helping their parents manage their twenty-four hour fruit and grocery stores.

One morning he went to the Lotus Coffee Shop to have his usual breakfast special.

"What'll it be, Tony?"

"The usual," he replied.

The short order chef brought over the two eggs once over lightly and placed them in front of Tony. He grimaced.

"Where's the ketchup?"

He clutched his chest and got up to move towards the door to get some fresh air. He collapsed near the table against the wall and fell to the floor. The doctors later said it was a massive cardiac arrest, a coronary attack and, even if they had gotten there sooner, there would have been nothing more that they could have done.

Stories