For Better or Cursed

3

“YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL , Cate. Time’s been on your side, dude.” He gave her the once-over, like he was sizing her up for some TV reality show and he was the latest bachelor. “I don’t see a ring on your finger. I thought for sure you’d be married with five kids.”

Cate raised an eyebrow. “And I thought for sure you’d be on your fifth wife.”

“Not likely.”

They stared at each other for a moment. This was not a good beginning, Cate thought.

Rudy continued, “Okay. We should get started right away. You’ll need to cancel all your appointments for the next few weeks. Maybe longer. I need you to concentrate on me. I’m in pretty bad shape, here, and I can’t afford to be down for too much longer. I’ll pay whatever you want, just so I know that I’ll have your undivided attention. Whatever you need in the way of equipment, you got it. Just let me know what it is. This whole thing has to be kept a secret or, believe me, your life will turn into a nightmare, as well as mine. Here are my medical records, dude.” With some effort he tossed the large manila envelope on her desk.

She was a dude now? Cate didn’t know how to respond to dude.

He continued, “I think that about covers it. Dude, I’m really hurting, but that room I was in is way too small.” He took a breath and pushed himself up from his chair with an obvious grimace of pain on his face. “You have anything bigger?”

Cate was actually dumbstruck by the burst of orders that he’d flung in her direction. She couldn’t react properly to the magnitude of his arrogance. She didn’t quite know how to respond to her new charter, so she sat back in her chair and watched as he hobbled out of the office apparently expecting her to follow, but she didn’t.

She waited for the shock of him to wear off. Perhaps then she would actually be able to think.

“Hel-lo. Anybody in there? Which door do I go through?”

Her brain finally came around as he reappeared in the doorway. “The front door, dude. And don’t let it hit you on the way out,” she said, flashing a sarcastic grin.

For a brief moment she had considered shuffling him off to one of the other therapists who worked for her, but she couldn’t justify dumping his snotty self on anybody.

“Don’t kid around, Cate. I’m in a lot of pain here. The sooner we get started the sooner I can get my life back.”

“You can get back to your life right now,” she said. “Don’t let me get in your way.”

“What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you hear my offer?”

“I heard it, but I’m not for sale.”

“I’m not buying you. I’m buying your services.”

“I am my services, and as long as these two hands are attached to my two arms, I’m not for sale.”

Rudy hobbled back into the office and sat down again, gently. His breathing had increased, and he looked unsettled, but his arrogance had defined the moment. If she could physically kick him out of her office and onto the street and watch him hit the pavement with a thud, she would at least feel as though they were once and for all even.

But she couldn’t.

He was taller than she had remembered, and maturity had thickened his body. Not that he was fat, he had merely turned into a man, with deep-brown eyes, darker than she remembered, and thick black hair, blacker than she remembered. It’s not that she hadn’t seen him on TV and on magazine covers, or cereal boxes over the years, but to see him up close again was just different. He actually looked even more handsome in person, and that bad-boy arrogance she thought was just for the media was actually real.

Too bad.

“Look, I know I’m vulnerable right now, and you can hold out for any amount of money you want, but I have my limits.”

“I don’t want your money.”

He chuckled. “Of course you do. Everybody does, but I’ve gotten used to the greed factor.”

“I think you need to leave now.”

“Come on, Cate. It’s me, Rudy.” His determination didn’t waver. “What? You’re still mad about what happened seven years ago?”

“Ten. It was ten years ago. And do you honestly think I gave you a second thought?”

“Good, then why won’t you treat me? Isn’t there some kind of law about therapists and patients? Some kind of code you people live by? How can you turn me away?”

“I don’t know. How can I? I must have rocks for brains. Or maybe I just don’t like you and your full-of-yourself self.”

“Excuse me?”

“There is no excuse. Please leave, which is something you’re good at.”

He didn’t say anything. He just stared at her with a look of confusion on his face.

She stood up.

He stood, albeit slowly.

“I’m sorry you feel this way, Cate. I could have used your magic touch.”

His words brought back the memory of the night he proposed, which only made her more angry.

“What a crock! That line’s stale. Don’t you have a new one?”

“I never should have come back here. I knew you’d be like this. You never could just accept things.”

“Accept things! So, I should have just accepted the fact that you walked out on me?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Like I had a choice? It was my once-in-a-lifetime chance. You wouldn’t have come with me.”

Her anger welled up with his words. “You never asked.”

“Asked you to do what? Give up your scholarship to UCLA and come follow me around to some training camp? Yeah, that would’ve worked out. Not likely.” His face softened and he took a step toward her. “Cate, I—”

“Just go,” she said, her voice shaking. “This debate is far too stressful, and I’ve been working on calm. I’m sure you can get all the therapy you need back in Rudyworld.”

“Yeah. Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be over at my parents’ old brownstone. I’m going to hang around for a while. Get it fixed up. Feel free to drop by anytime.”

He hobbled out of her office while she stood waiting to hear the front door on the Wellness Center close so she could sit down and scream.

THE BROWNSTONE where Rudy had spent his teenage years with his mom and dad had all but been deserted. His parents, Betty and Sam, now lived in Florida, complements of Rudy, and journeyed back to Chicago only when they had to, which in the past five years had been only once, when old man Barcio died. Tony Barcio had been their landlord and good friend. Rudy had bought the place as soon as it came on the market. He really didn’t know why he bought it, but at the time it had seemed like the right thing to do for his mom and dad, or maybe just for himself.

Now as he sat alone in the empty house, he wondered what the hell he was doing. Why had he persisted in returning to his old neighborhood?

There were some pictures hanging on the walls. Pictures of his mom and dad in Florida, a couple aunts and uncles, a picture of himself wearing his gold medals, but there was one picture that really threw him a curve ball. It was a picture of his cousin, Pete.

Rudy had always admired Pete because he actually knew what he wanted to be from the time he was a little boy, a wooden-furniture craftsman. Rudy only knew one thing—escape—and he would do whatever it took to achieve it. Marrying Cate had meant putting down roots and building a life together. When that reality had finally taken hold, he’d freaked and run to the nearest exit.

His excellent freestyle skiing ability bought him a ticket with one of the best moguls coaches in the country. After he achieved what he wanted there, he went into the restaurant business. Lately his restaurants were starting to bore him. He could never stay in one place, or with one thing, for too long. Even his house in Malibu had lost its appeal, but he didn’t know where to escape to this time, or to what, exactly.

Pete had stayed right where he grew up, a small town in Wisconsin, had four kids, his own business and according to the picture on the wall, a pretty little wife.

Rudy had his own business, three gold Olympic medals, enough money to last him his entire lifetime and a silver-framed picture of Allison Devine, Hollywood’s latest ingenue, on his desk. The woman who had, in fact, pushed him right out of that lift.

Pete was happy.

Rudy was happy…yeah, right.

Now, as he sat in his dad’s green recliner in the living room waiting for the house to get to a more livable temperature, he pondered whether it had been a smart move to let his driver leave. After the cold shoulder he had received from Cate, which he certainly deserved, he hadn’t been able to think straight. And to make matters worse, he was freezing and hungry, and his cell phone had gone completely dead, but he hurt too much to get up to try to find the charger.

The brownstone was a dusty, spider-infested, cold, dark mess and unless there was some major work on it ASAP it was totally uninhabitable. All the furniture, what there was of it, was covered in sheets that had long ago lost their protective power. Cobwebs hung in every corner. What wasn’t covered had a thick blanket of dust and grime. The walls were a lovely shade of soot.

At least the heat worked and the place had electricity, two things that Rudy had kept on.

The doorbell rang.

“Come in,” he yelled. “It’s open.”

“Hellooo,” a high-pitched, female voice echoed throughout the house as the front door creaked open. “Betty? Sam? Is that you?” the voice asked.

He couldn’t see who it was because the front door was on the other side of the wall in the hallway, but the voice was familiar.

“I’m in here,” he yelled, anxious to see his visitor, hoping against all hope it was Cate.

Okay, so yeah, he had been somewhat rude, but those eyes of hers, those big, dark, wonderful eyes were even more fantastic than he had remembered. He had searched for some compassion in them, but there wasn’t any, so he simply lashed out. Probably not his best move, given the circumstances.

And the way her bottom lip curled when she got angry. Perfect.

He sat up straight, ready to apologize, ready to bear his soul, to discuss the past in a more reasonable tone, when some other woman turned the corner into his living room.

“What a dump!”

At first Rudy didn’t recognize the round, middle-aged woman in the bright-red coat and matching red scarf. Then, as his memory spun back several years, ten to be exact, he knew precisely who was standing in front of him.

“Hello Aunt Flo,” he quipped. Everyone in the neighborhood knew Florence Adriana Lucille Del-Veccio as Aunt Flo, and Rudy was no exception.

“Little Rudy Bellafini, as I live and breathe. You, of all people. I never thought I’d see your face in this part of town again. What on earth are you doing here?” she asked while holding on to her Marilyn Monroe beaded handbag. Aunt Flo’s nose and cheeks matched the color of her outfit, bright red, causing Rudy to grin despite her somewhat rude remark.

“Hey, Aunt Flo, it’s good to see you.” He shifted his weight to his other hip, wincing as a shooting pain went from his shoulder to his right big toe. He could actually feel pain in his big toe. He wanted to rip off his shoe and rub it, but thought better of it as he stared at Aunt Flo’s contorted face, obviously already disgusted by the condition of the house. “I’d get up, but as you can see, I’m somewhat indisposed at the moment.”

“I don’t know about the disposal part, but you’re a mess. For all your money, and I heard you got a bundle, what are you doing sitting all alone in this rat trap? Are you here to make things right with my niece?”

“Well, I…”

“You don’t gotta say any more. I can tell that you got other reasons.” She put her gloved hand over her mouth and drew in a loud breath, “Did that Allison clean you out and now all you got left is this dump?” She gasped.

“Aunt Flo, relax. I’ve got plenty of money.”

“Well, at least that’s something, but for a man who says he’s got plenty of money, you sure are peculiar. You look skinny. Pale. You should eat something, you’ll feel better.”

“Thanks, but…”

“Come on out with me. We can talk and you can buy me a nice hot meal with all this money you still got.” She started toward him.

Rudy wanted to join her. He tried to get up from the dilapidated chair, but with each movement the recliner seemed to engulf him.

“Tell you what, I got my mobile phone. My Cate got it for me last Christmas. She’s a wonderful girl, that Cate. You shoulda never done what you did, but we’ll talk about that later.” She smiled, but Rudy didn’t exactly like the look on her face. “She’s beautiful and generous and good-hearted, not like some of them loser women you run with. A good-looking boy like you shouldn’t…”

She dug through the Monroe purse. “Where the heck is it? I only use the thing for emergencies, all that talk about brain tumors and stuff. Your dad thought Betty caught a brain tumor from the mobile phone. Even took her to the Mayo Clinic because she was acting so mean all the time. Turned out she was going through the change, but still, you can’t be too careful these days.” She pulled a checkbook, a notebook and an industrial-size wine opener out of her purse, peeked in and shouted, “There it is, way on the bottom.”

She plucked out the shiny red phone and showed it to Rudy, cradling it in her hands as if she were presenting it for purchase. Aunt Flo had worked at Marshall Fields ever since she was sixteen years old, and probably still did. Back when Rudy knew her, she had always prided herself on her sales abilities. “An important man like you should get himself one of these. This is the Superturbo F720k. Great little phone, even takes pictures. I haven’t quite figured out how to use that feature yet, but a smart man like you could probably figure it out without the directions.”

She went on about some of the other features while Rudy thought about his aching big toe, the absurdity of the situation he found himself in, the pain in his hip, his leg and, most of all, his neck.

Then, sometime right before he was about to let out an earth-shattering moan, Aunt Flo sat down next to him on a rickety chair. “Don’t you worry about a thing,” she told him in a vanilla voice. “Let’s see now,” she said. “I know just the person to call to come get us out of this hell hole.”

4

“MARRY ME . Tonight. Make all my dreams come true.” Henry yelled from the dining room as he set the dark-walnut table for eight, something Cate did every night. She liked being prepared for inevitable company. “A woman who can cook, these days, is a rare find. Be mine and you can cook for me every night.”

How could a woman refuse such an offer?

Cate plunked the wooden spoon she held into the tomato sauce and wiped her hands on her apron. “No, thanks, Henry,” Cate yelled back from the kitchen. “I’m not ready to get married tonight. I have to wash my hair. But thanks for asking…again.”

It had been the third proposal that week. They were coming faster now. The only reason Cate could think of for the sudden surge was that Henry was turning fifty soon. Maybe he was on a self-imposed deadline to remarry, and she fit the job description:

Wanted: desperate female who can cook and likes to be around dead people all day. Will marry for food.

Just as Cate walked into the dining room carrying a plate of ricotta-filled canolli, Henry’s favorite dessert, and picturing the ad in the Sun Times personals, Gina burst into the house along with an amazingly strong gust of wind off the lake.

The wind toppled Henry’s towering floral centerpiece. Lilies, pink carnations and roses blew across the table, and the lovely pea-green vase that Henry had brought over from his funeral home the previous week cracked with the fall. Cate turned on her heel and went back into the kitchen for a dish towel.

“Hi, Henry,” Gina said. “Too many roses, Henry. Cate hates roses. Where is she? I think we broke her ex and we need her to get the pieces out of the car.”

“What’s the matter?” Cate asked, as she walked back out of the kitchen. She tossed the dish towel to Henry, who just stood there staring at the mess on the table. His face almost always had that startled look to it, as if he lived in a constant state of surprise. Perhaps it was the way his jet-black eyebrows arched above his cobalt-blue eyes, and the contrast of his thick, totally white hair, and the way his nostrils flared like he was desperate to take in air, or maybe it was that last face lift.

“Cate, it’s not my fault,” Gina insisted. “The guy doesn’t listen to reason. He’s more stubborn than Dad. I told him not to get into the back seat.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s stuck, Cate, and can’t move. Our car ate his foot.”

“Call cousin Charlie. He’s pushing three-hundred pounds. He’ll get your boyfriend out of the car.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Cate. He’s yours. And Charlie’s already out there.”

Henry looked over at Cate. “You have a boyfriend?”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Cate grabbed her coat and hurried out the front door ahead of Gina. Henry followed but stopped in the doorway, holding on to part of his floral centerpiece. “Wait,” he yelled. “Was it the roses? Women love roses. Don’t they?”

As soon as Cate stepped out into the cold night air and took one look at the twisted man caught inside the classic, faded orange-colored VW Beetle, she knew he was in real trouble. Complete sympathy overtook her like a mud bath and swirled in thick waves of human compassion.

Cate and Gina shared the car, but it was actually Cate’s, only she hardly drove it anymore. Most of the time she would grab a bus or a train to get where she was going. Gina had commandeered the Bug to get back and forth from school on a daily basis.

Cate only caught a glimpse of Rudy’s tortured face as cousin Charlie pulled on Rudy’s arms, apparently attempting to rip them right off his body. It was the high-pitched yelp that gave the painful maneuver away.

“Stop it,” Cate yelled as she stood in front of the car parked next to the curb. They were all there, most of the neighborhood, and most of her family, each trying to unwedge the unwedgeable from both sides of the car.

In all the chaos, she noticed that Aunt Flo and her dad were actually holding hands…almost as if they were a couple. She immediately turned away and pushed her attention to Rudy. The thought of Aunt Flo and her dad as a couple was absolutely ridiculous, and she didn’t even want to consider it.

When she looked again, they had stopped holding hands. Now they stood well apart from each other.

That was better. She thought perhaps it had been a lighting thing, or maybe she hadn’t seen it at all? Convincing herself that it was just the confusion of the moment, she went on to more urgent issues.

“You guys have to stop,” she told everyone. They instantly backed off.

When Cate stuck her head in the car, Rudy smiled up at her like a helpless puppy. He sat in the back seat, sideways, with one leg stretched out along the seat and the other one hidden somewhere in front of him. His arms draped over the front seat as if they were no longer part of his body.

“Hurt much?” she asked.

“Only while I’m awake,” he said.

“So, tell me, only kids and small animals fit in this back seat. Which did you think you were?”