Green Stone Ring Page 13

  He opened the front door as she talked.

  “You know, I ride all by myself on the train down to Washington all the time, and I seem to function and get around without anyone’s help.”

  He opened the passenger door, and she slid in. He got in and started up the car.

  “Why do men think women can’t take care of themselves?” She looked at him.

  “Gini,” he said seriously, showing her respect. “I have no doubt in my mind you can take care of yourself, but there’s no sense in you walking in the cold and damp when I have a car.”

  “I have a car,” she said, very matter of fact. “I could drive if I wanted to. I can drive, another thing I do quite well without assistance.”

  “I get it. I get it! You’re independent. I find that appealing in a woman. But there’s nothing wrong with a friend helping a friend.”

  There was a long pause as neither of them spoke. She wasn’t sure why she was trying to pick a fight. Hadn’t she had fun with him tonight? She needed to stop; he was not a threat.

  He realized she was hurting deeply, and it wasn’t just because of her mother’s health. The man, his friend—Franco—had scarred her with his lack of commitment, leaving her to manage on her own.

  “How are you getting to the airport? I can take you.”

  “No thanks.” Gini leaned down near her feet to pick up her PET, which had fallen out of her purse. “Jimmy’s taking me.”

  “Who’s Jimmy?”

  “He’s my driver.”

  “Oh, now you have a driver.” Ric was annoyed.

  Gini picked up on his tone. “Well, he’s not only my driver. Everyone in the building uses him. And he has lots of other customers. He’s honest; he’s prompt, and it is much easier to have him just drop me off at the airport or train station rather than go through all the hassle of calling a taxi. I have arranged for him to take me, and pick me up on Saturday when I get back. It’s just easier that way,” she said, almost apologetic. “You’re busy; I know you are. It would take time out of your morning.”

  He pulled up in front of her building and parked. He ran around to help her out when she opened the car door, and walked her to the building entrance.

  “Thanks for the ride.” She looked him in the eyes.

  He took a bold move, a move he’d been planning—waiting for the right moment. Holding her head in his hands, he kissed her on the lips.

  She gently, but quickly, pushed away from him and immediately looked down, digging through her purse to get her key card. “I hope you have a nice Thanksgiving.” She was a bit befuddled as she slipped the key into the slot.

  Ric pulled the door open to hold it. “You too. I know you are just coming back on Saturday, but there’s a fun function that night at the hotel. I’d like you to go with me.”

  She was still avoiding eye contact. “We’ll see how tired I am.”

  “Okay. I won’t call or text you while you’re home so it won’t be uncomfortable for you.”

  “I hope the weather will be nice for you at Rockport.” Her speech was rapid-fire.

  She finally looked up at him. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Gins. Have a good trip. We really do need to go to the spa together.”

  She smiled an easy smile—suddenly calm—and walked in the door. He waited until she went into the elevator; she turned and waved. When the elevator doors closed, she rubbed her lips with her fingertips and squeezed her eyes closed. Had the kiss surprised her? Yes—well, no. Inside, she had been begging for it all day, maybe even for weeks. She had watched him talk and smile and laugh all evening. With all that, she should have known his lips, but there was the surprise—she had never imagined how warm they would feel pressed to hers, or the smothering heat that went deep down inside her.

  Walking back to his car, Ric looked up and smiled, thinking of her laughter, her flirty looks. And the kiss, yes, the kiss was just as he had expected: luscious, enchanting, soft. He was drunk on endorphins—his desire even more heightened to be with her, be with her forever.

  Chapter 8 – Thanksgiving Week

  On Tuesday, Gini pulled her rental car up in front of the house where she’d grown up. Once again, she was saddened by the appearance of the yard. The grass was different lengths and had brown patches. The flower beds were full of weeds that had died back and lay on the ground. She thought it wouldn’t kill Dwayne to mow and weed his mother’s yard once in awhile.

  When she rang the bell, Gini was surprised she didn’t see Cindy’s car. No one answered the door. She rang it again and then knocked, still no answer, so she sat in the chair on the porch. She figured they had gone out somewhere.

  She hadn’t heard from Ric on Monday, which was probably just as well. She was so busy getting ready and tying up loose ends, she didn’t have time to contact him, or at least that was her excuse. Her arm rested on the chair. She buried her mouth in her hand, hiding the giggle when she thought about him sitting in a salon chair spreading his eyelids with his hands to get his brows threaded. She laughed again. It was kind of prissy, but he was so much a man that it was okay.

  Then she rubbed her lips, thinking of the kiss—that kiss was so wrong. Just then a car pulled into the driveway. Only Cindy got out and ran up to the porch.

  “You’re here!” She hugged Gini tightly. “It’s so good to see you, baby sister, so good.” The two hugged and kissed. “Why are you waiting out here?”

  “I rang the bell, but no one answered.”

  Cindy turned the door handle and went inside.

  Gini laughed. “I didn’t think to try the knob.”

  “Mama, look who’s here,” Cindy called out. “Mama, where are you?”

  Slowly, Elizabeth emerged from the bedroom. “Gini, oh, it’s so good you’re here.”

  Gini ran up to her and gave her a big hug. “I rang the bell, Mama.”

  “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t hear you.”

  Gini was surprised to see how much her mother slumped, and she seemed slow and elusive.

  “I’m just a little tired today.” The two still had their arms around each other. “I guess I was going to lie down for a while, but I forgot Cindy was here.” Elizabeth shook her head, not knowing for sure what was going on.

  “Mama, remember, I went to the store to get your prescription.”

  Cindy looked at Gini. “I don’t know how long it’s been since she took her blood pressure medicine.”

  Gini became concerned. “Mama, when did you run out of these pills? It’s important you take them every day.”

  “I know, honey, I know.” She affectionately put her arm around Gini’s waist. “It’s so good to have you home. I wish you would give up that big city stuff. You and Franco should move back where you belong.”

  Gini gave her another hug. “I’ve missed you, but my work is in Boston and DC. That’s where I belong.”

  “And, Franco, where is that handsome son-in-law of mine?”

  “He’s still in China. He won’t be able to come this time.”

  Gini walked the two of them into the living room with her arm around her. They were about the same height. Cindy was three to four inches taller.

  “We baked this morning, your favorites.”

  “I thought I smelled bear claws.”

  The three of them spent the rest of the afternoon talking and laughing while eating pastries and drinking tea. As the time went on, Elizabeth became more alive. Gini was glad to see her happy mother emerge.

  “I need to get a pen and paper.” Mama got up from the kitchen table. “We need to make a list, so we make sure we have everything we need for Thanksgiving.” She left the room.

  “She’s so glad to have you here,” Cindy said, “and she’s looking forward to the big family dinner. I can see a lightening of her step already.”

  Gini smiled and nodded her head.

  Wednesday morning the three ladies baked pies, made sweet breads, cooked and peeled sweet potatoes, and ironed tablecloths and
napkins. All the while, the chatter was constant, with a lot of reminiscing. About two o’clock, Mama wanted to rest. Cindy took her into the bedroom and got her settled in bed.

  Gini made some tea and started nibbling on a sweet bread piece in the living room.

  “I think we wore her out,” Cindy said.

  “The water is hot if you want some tea.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cindy came back into the room with tea and treats. “This has been fun. Just the three of us, like old times.”

  “I can remember baking with Mama when I was little for holidays. It was one of my favorite things to do. I miss being with family sometimes.”

  “Why don’t you and Franco move back? I’m sure you could find work here.”

  “Oh… I love what I’m doing, and Washington DC is a long way from here. And Franco, well, Franco.” She stopped and looked down.

  “I see you’re not wearing your wedding ring.”

  Gini twirled the green stone ring around on her finger. “Franco gave this to me from China.”

  “I remember when he gave you that. But that isn’t your wedding ring. Is there something going on I don’t know about? Everyone will be here for Thanksgiving except Franco. Couldn’t he have taken a few days off and come? This is our last big meal in this house.”

  “How many will there be?” Gini asked, hoping to change the subject.

  “Let’s see.” Cindy started counting. “Thomas and Elsie, their son Troy, his wife, their daughter and husband, Larry, Dwayne, Brit and the two boys, my crew, you, and Mama, that’s sixteen.

  “Thomas and Larry are going to fix up the house before we put it on the market. They’re good handymen. I guess Pop trained them well. Unlike Dwayne—he hasn’t lifted a finger to help. Sometimes I wonder where he came from. Did they switch babies at birth?” Both girls giggled.

  “I don’t know. He’s definitely a strange one, and he married a very odd woman. I don’t think I have ever seen Brit smile. She’s always unhappy about something.”

  “Yeah, she’s weird, but Mama loves those boys, and they love her.”

  “How old are they now?”

  “Five and eight, and little firecrackers both of them, but sweet. So I guess Brit and Dwayne must be good parents.”

  Gini got up to get more tea.

  “You didn’t finish telling me about Franco. When will he be coming back? Hopefully in time for Christmas.”

  Gini came back into the room. “Listen, Cindy, I haven’t seen Franco for months or talked to him or had any emails until lately. I have no idea when he plans to come home.”

  “Gini!” Cindy gasped. “Baby sister, why not? You’re not breaking up, are you?”

  There was silence for a few minutes.

  “Maybe we should. We don’t have a marriage. He’s married to his work. I figured he’d be gone a few months and come back, but it hasn’t worked out that way. I was okay with it at first, but now…” She sighed. A sadness rolled over her, the horrible feeling of loneliness. She didn’t want to be a marriage statistic—and Franco hadn’t really done anything wrong; nor had she. It was their work that kept them apart. She was sure if they were together, their love would be as strong as ever.

  “Franco adores you. He always has. You need to get over there to China and be with your husband!”

  “I did go to China. There was nothing for me to do there. He works in remote areas and… and I just hated it, and he knew it. He used to call, but I think he just wanted to know if I was pregnant. When that possibility was over so were the phone calls.”

  “Isn’t it a little difficult to get pregnant if you’re not together?” Cindy asked in a snide tone, raising her eyebrows.

  Why was Cindy being so mean? She didn’t understand the deep hurt Gini was experiencing, the hollow certainty that her husband was more fulfilled by his work than by being with her— She didn’t really believe that and yet part of her believed it totally. She needed someone to listen, not judge. “Yes, and it is hard to get pregnant even when we are together. We tried for two years, marking the calendar, in vitro, everything. That’s why he was calling—because we had several embryos implanted. Nothing. I know he wants children. And he works a lot with families and kids over there, so maybe that’s why he never comes home. I don’t know why, Cindy. I really don’t know why.”

  There was a tap on the door. It was Neil, Cindy’s husband.

  “There she is. There’s my special little girl.” Gini and Neil hugged.

  If Cindy was Gini’s second mother, then Neil was her second dad. She loved them both dearly and spent a lot of time with them growing up. And when Todd was born, Gini treated him like a living doll. Even though he was several years younger than she, they became very close.

  Thursday morning Gini woke up to the smell of bacon frying and toast. When she opened her eyes, she smiled, thinking about her youth.

  It had been a long time since she’d slept in her room. She and Franco had visited a couple of times after they got married, and once when they returned from China. He had insisted they stay at a hotel. He said it was too weird to sleep in her childhood bed. The hotel had been an easy getaway if the family got on his nerves. He had tolerated sitting and talking with the family when they were dating, because he wanted to be with Gini, but he no longer had the patience.

  There were some of the family who had been upset when they found out Gini and Franco didn’t have a wedding—well, really, only Mama and Cindy.

  One of the trips had been when Franco’s mother died. His grandmother had died their junior year in high school. Mama had felt she needed to represent the Andersons at the funeral out of respect for Franco. She and Franco’s mother had been the only ones at the church; not even Franco was there. When his mom had died, it had been much the same; Elizabeth, Gini, and Franco sat and listened to the priest give a small service. What a lonely life those two women must have had. Franco had sold the house and was done with it. Gini had heard a developer bought up the area to build a new shopping center. She had never checked it out; that part of town had no interest for her. She knew if Mama hadn’t come across Franco that day after he was beat up, he would have been in gangs and probably in jail. They would have never met, and she wouldn’t know of his love.

  Mama had to plead with Thomas and Larry to come see the Legottis when they visited, but they never showed up. Franco had always steered clear of the brothers. He had not liked their disrespect of women. Gini didn’t know her older half-brothers at all. When she was real little, they kept demanding she tap like Shirley Temple. She had no idea what that meant until she was older, but what really bothered her was them poking her in her tummy with their fingers as if trying to find the “on” button. They had scared her. Whenever they had visited, she always huddled close to Mama.

  “I don’t like them,” Gini told her mama when she was four.

  “I know, honey, they can be mean, but they are your brothers, and you must love them.”

  And when she was in high school she had snuggled down between Franco and Ric on the couch to keep safe. Now they were just grumpy old men. She didn’t care if they came to see her or not.

  It made her laugh when she thought about Franco and Dwayne. When they were in middle school, Dwayne had learned that tangling with Franco was never a good idea. Even though Dwayne was a full head taller, Franco could have taken him down with little effort. It hadn’t made Dwayne any less willing to taunt, however. But he had known exactly how far to go. If Franco even made a hint that he was getting up, Dwayne darted out of sight. By the end of high school, Gini knew Franco had secretly enjoyed Dwayne’s stupid game.

  And then there was Ric, who wouldn’t purposely hurt anyone. Gini had never seen him angry—sad, for sure, when she first met him—and crushed when Margarita had miscarried their first child. He had been quiet and reserved and basically ignored by the rest of the family, which seemed okay with him. Franco, on the other hand, had been like an adopted child of the Andersons. H
e’d been at their house so much growing up they saw him as a permanent fixture—that had grinded on Dwayne. Of course, Franco had started coming to the house when he was eight, Ric not until the age of fifteen. It had always amazed Gini how the two could be such close friends when they had such opposite personalities and interests. They had had Mama in common, and Gini guessed they both had wanted to be the best in school or whatever they did. Maybe that had been enough—the recognition of intelligence, drive, and ambition in each other. Lord knows, those traits had been scarce in their community.

  Mama had always treated Franco like royalty. She said she had never known a kid, or anyone for that matter, who had picked themselves up by their bootstraps—completely driven to be a better person. She didn’t recognize that it had been she who turned Franco around with her love and support. Even if Elizabeth had, she would have never taken the credit.

  Suddenly, there was the smell of smoke. Gini jumped out of bed, grabbed her robe, and ran into the kitchen.

  “Mama!”

  “Oh, that darn toaster, it keeps catching on fire. Your daddy said he would fix it, but he hasn’t found the time yet. He’s so good at fixing things.”

  Gini unplugged the toaster, pulled the toast out with a fork, and put it in the sink. “I think you need a new toaster. Mama, don’t use this again, okay?”

  “No, no, Tom will fix it. Baby girl, what kind of eggs do you want?”

  “Let me fix you breakfast.”

  “Gini, I’m going to fix your breakfast. You have been away at school so long.”

  Gini hugged her mom. “Did you take your pills this morning?”

  Elizabeth pointed at the pill box. Gini went over, picked it up, and handed her mother each pill, which she took with a swallow of water.

  It seemed Gini could hardly put one foot in front of the other some mornings, she was so tired. Today was one of those days, but after she had the great breakfast with her mom, she perked right up. It must have been a bit of jet lag.