Road to Redemption Pt. 02

"Let's go to your place. I have a surprise I want to show you."

"Then, we can hit Lance's. It's open late."

"Sounds good."

As we walked to the car, she told me about her buying trip. She was pretty excited with the results. She had been on an all-Italy trip, hitting Milan, Florence/Prato, Genoa and Vicenza, among others, and it had gone well.

After dinner, and more chatting about her trip, we drove to my place and pulled in the drive. I asked if she needed to take anything in, remembering she wanted to show me something.

"If you would, just the small suitcase and the overnight case."

We went in and I offered drinks.

"I'd love a glass of wine, if you have any."

"I stocked up. I have a couple Beaujolais', a..."

"Beaujolais is perfect."

"Coming up."

"I'm going to use the bathroom," she informed me as she grabbed her small suitcase and headed down the hall.

I poured the wine and went to the divan in the living room. I sat and waited several minutes.

Celia called to me from the hallway, "Close your eyes and no peaking."

"Eyes closed," I replied, wondering what she wanted to show me.

"Okay, you can open them," she said.

I did. I almost spilled my wine.

Celia had on a dusty, pale-blue negligee outfit with a sheer robe that draped almost to the floor. The negligee itself just came to the top of the thighs and her long, tawny legs were on display. The gauzy material was see-through and I could make out her dark aureoles, pert nipples and the shape and curve of her breasts.

I couldn't find my voice, but I found my feet. I stood and closed the distance between us.

"You like? I got it in Milan."

"You look amazing, beautiful, stunning," I replied, all the while thinking about the similar situation with Shelley.

"Exactly what I was aiming for," she said in a sweet, sultry voice, and wrapped her arms around me and pulled me to her.

I kissed her with all the passion I could muster, and felt her warm, firm body through the sheer material, running my hands up and down her long, sleek back. She pulled me to her tightly, pressing a thigh between my legs, intentionally feeling my hardening cock with her leg.

She spoke in my ear in a husky voice, "I've been thinking about us since I've been away, and I think I'm ready for this. How about you?"

I almost said yes, but caught myself.

"We have to talk first," I said, still holding her tight.

She pulled her head back, looking me in the eyes, "Is something wrong?"

"I hope not, but I have to tell you something first. Let's sit. And I need a drink." I guided us to the couch and sat us down, then picked up a glass of wine and handed her one. She had a questioning look on her face. My stomach was in knots, and for a moment, I almost chickened out. After all, she was going to take me to bed; but after she heard what I had to say, not only would that not happen, I might lose her altogether.

I emptied my glass and poured another. Then I told her about Shelley, from beginning to end, including about my last night with her. She listened without interrupting, without comment, without changing her expression. When I finished, she took a drink of her wine, set the glass down, took my hands in hers, and looked me in the eyes.

"Nick...I...I can't say I'm not upset. I am. But I appreciate you telling me about her. I know you could have chosen to say nothing, and I would have never known. I even wish...you hadn't...in a way...but I'm glad you did, that you were honest with me. I know you said you didn't have feelings for Shelley, other than caring for her, but what I need to know is how you feel about me? And I need you to be just as honest."

"Celia, I believe that meeting you was destiny. I believe I was there that night in the bar for a reason, aside from coming to your aid. I believe I was there at that moment for me; that I was meant to meet you; that with you, I had an opportunity, perhaps my last one, to finally find someone I could share my life with, someone that would give me an opportunity to redeem myself. And I know that I made a mistake right out of the gate. But I hope you won't give up on me. You matter too much to me, and nothing or nobody has mattered to me for a long time. I want a chance to prove myself to you, to earn your trust and to show you I can be for you what you are for me."

She squeezed my hands, hard, looking down at them, then looked back up. She had tears on her cheeks. I felt worse than I had since Andrea, and sick to my stomach. I knew I had just lost my best chance at happiness, again.

"I'll take you home," I said.

"No, it's late. I'm tired. If it's okay, I'll use your guest room. I just want to go lie down."

We stood and she walked away. I just stood there, watching her beautiful body as she left. My heart sank. I picked up our glasses and walked to the kitchen. I pulled out a bottle of tequila, grabbed a glass, and headed to the patio. It was cool out and there was a breeze, making it chilly, but I didn't care. I sat and poured a stiff shot and knocked it down, then another, and sat and thought. The more I thought, the more I realized I should have listened to my own instincts and not gotten involved with Shelley. But I couldn't undo what I had done.

Sometime around two in the morning, I realized I was out of tequila and had finished off half a bottle. I headed in and hit the shower. I stood and let the hot water run over me, taking off the chill and sobering me up a little. How was I going to face Celia in the morning? I was dreading that.

I couldn't get to sleep, but at some point, in the early hours of the morning, I dozed off. I awoke to light coming in through the window and sounds drifting in through the crack in my door. Groggy, I reached for my 9 mil before remembering Celia was here. I quickly threw on a pair of pants and headed down the hall. Celia was in the kitchen, pulling out dishes and cookware. She was wearing a simple nightgown. My heart almost stopped at the sight of her. I had hurt this beautiful, amazing woman. But she was obviously making breakfast. I didn't understand that.

I cleared my throat, "Um, good morning."

"Oh, good morning. I was hungry and thought you might be."

"Uh, sure. Celia..."

"Yes?"

"I'm just a little surprised to see you making breakfast. I thought I would just be taking you home this morning."

"I figured we could eat and then leave from here. We're meeting my parents for lunch, or did you forget?"

"No, I didn't forget. I just figured that was off. I..."

She set the dishes down she was working with and came over to me.

"Nick, I had a lot of time to think last night. And I can tell you, it was a long night. I didn't sleep much. But I did come to a decision...I think we should...I should try to get past this...see if I can get past it. I didn't say it last night; I was too upset; but Nick, I also feel like we were meant to meet. In general, I don't believe in destiny, but I do believe that life presents us with opportunities, but it's up to us to recognize them and act on them. I once told you I wanted to see where this relationship could go. I still do. I don't want to throw that away. And I want you to meet my parents, if you're still willing."

"Of course."

"Then, let's have breakfast. We can talk about this another time. For now, I just need time to work through it. I can't promise anything, but...Nick, I had my heart broken before, and I know you have too, but I don't want to have that happen again. I want to give us a chance."

"Celia, I want that more than anything. I cannot possibly express how much I want that. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry that I got involved with Shelley..."

"Nick, Let's just have an enjoyable breakfast. You have French bread and I thought I would make French toast."

"I love French toast. Would you like some bacon or sausage with it?" I asked.

"Bacon sounds good."

I got busy with the bacon and Celia began preparing the toast. As we worked together in the kitchen, it felt natural, and like nothing bad had happened between us. But that wasn't the case. However, I felt some of the darkness lift from me as we worked. There was still hope.

We prepared breakfast in silence and ate in silence, then cleaned up, together. I had poured orange juice, and following Celia's lead, we took the pitcher and glasses of ice to the living room and sat. I went to my chair and she sat on the divan.

She crossed her legs when she sat, and I noticed her feet for the first time. She had small feet for a tall woman, and perfectly formed. And not to belabor the point, but everything about this woman was perfect.

And I still had a problem with that. I used to have great self-confidence, and honestly, was a little egotistical, but my failure as a husband, divorce, and losing my business had gone a long way to eroding that self-confidence, and my ego was not what it once was. I questioned whether I was worthy of this woman, worthy of her love. But of course, we also had to deal with my mistake before any other questions mattered.

Celia sat and sipped her orange juice and looked around the living room. I mostly sat and looked at my feet, which were also bare, and not so pretty, and certainly not small and perfectly shaped. My size 12's are nothing to look at.

"Nick, you said you could see spending your life with me, but I need to know that nothing like Shelley will happen again."

"Okay...Well, first of all, I didn't want to sleep with Shelley that last time. I didn't. I knew I probably would. I didn't know how I could avoid it when I went to break things off with her, not without seeming like a real cad. But at the same time, I knew if I slept with her, I was being a real cad. And, honestly, it's not an excuse, but I really was trying not to hurt Shelley's feelings. I gathered that her husband divorced her. She is a sweet woman who has been through her own bad situation. I didn't want to add to that. That said, I wished I hadn't. But I can't wish it away."

"No, I understand that, and I understand what happened. I do," she replied.

I continued, "You know, I've been feeling like I wasn't worthy of you, and that may have had something to do with why I...did what I did with Shelley, because I doubted that you could possibly see me as someone you really wanted to be with. But I was wrong. And I believe I am worthy of you, and I want the chance to prove that."

I sat my glass down, stood and walked around the coffee table to Celia; took the glass from her hand, sat it on the table and pulled her to her feet. I pulled her to me and kissed her. She melted into me, and kissed me in a warm, deeply emotional way that she hadn't before.

IV. MOM AND DAD

We drove to her parents' home in the country. It was an estate with stately elms lining the long drive up to the large Colonial-style house. When we arrived, her parents came out to meet us, her father in front. That was my first surprise. He was about my size, maybe an inch taller, and a little beefier, but no more than 210. I looked at Celia; she just grinned. My second surprise was her mother. She was almost a carbon copy of Celia, except lighter-skinned. She hardly looked older.

We exited the car and met them at the base of the steps. Celia introduced us.

"Mom, Dad, this is Nicholas. Nick, this is my mother, Gabriela, and my father, Louis."

"Pleased to meet you, Gabriela, Louis," I said offering my hand to her mother first.

"So nice to meet you, Nicholas," she replied.

"Nick, please. Sir, pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"Same here, Nick. I'm glad to meet you, and I've heard a lot about you. Come in, come in. Lunch is almost ready," he said as he turned to hug his daughter.

We went in and entered the kitchen and went to a bay nook with a four-seat table.

Gabriela explained, "I hope you don't mind. We usually eat in here. The dining room is so big and formal. We find this cozier."

"I think it's great, and it puts us closer to that great-smelling food," I answered.

Louis laughed, "A man after my own heart. You know, I married Gabriela because she's the only one I ever met that I thought was a better cook than me!"

"Oh, he's full of beans. Nobody is better in the kitchen than Lou. And you always told me it was because I was so pretty," she said, smacking Louis on the arm.

"Well, that had a little to do with it, too," he laughed his hearty laugh again.

Gabriela turned to me, "Have a seat, Nick. I hope you like paella. I'm sorry, you may not know what paella is..."

"It's a Spanish rice dish, usually made with chicken, or with shrimp and chicken, but I've had it with chorizo, also. And I love paella."

"I'm impressed, Nick," Gabriela remarked

"He does that a lot, Mom," Celia said, grinning.

"Yes, Celia said you continue to surprise her. How do you know about paella?"

"Between semesters in college, I vacationed in Spain and Portugal, and was fortunate enough to spend a week with a Spanish family who did their best to fatten me up while I was there."

"Wonderful. I'm from Spain. I was raised in Valencia, which is where paella comes from."

"Enough talk, let's eat," Louis playfully groused.

The paella was fabulous, better than what I remembered having in Spain. We chatted as we ate and I learned that Gabriela had come to America with her parents when she was 15 and that she and Louis met when they were both working at a restaurant in Chicago, both helping to support their families, which were large and struggling to make ends meet. So, they were a true "rags-to-riches" story, but completely unpretentious. I liked them, immediately.

After lunch, Louis wanted to see my car.

"That's a gem, son. Is that phantom blue?"

"Yes sir. It was a red metallic color when I acquired it, but I wanted it in an original color and I like the blues."

He quickly responded, "I like the blues, too."

I laughed, "Well, yes, those too. I am especially fond of the blues."

"Really? Who are your favorites?"

"Hmm, I guess the top of my list would include Etta James, B.B. King, Janis Joplin and Ray Charles, but there are several more I like."

"Good choices. Hey, how would you like to see some of my cars?"

"Love too, Sir."

"Lou, please."

"Certainly, Lou."

I won't bore you with the list, but he had 10 magnificent specimens in a large garage and told me he had a warehouse with another 12. My favorite of the ones I saw was a 1939 Packard 120 Touring Sedan - not the most prized of the Packard collectibles, but this one was restored immaculately and was absolutely beautiful.

After the tour, he invited me to the back veranda for a glass of Courvoisier. We sat and talked cars, construction and the 'restaurateur racket' as he called it. In the middle of it he surprised me.

"Nick, what are your intentions with Celia?"

Caught off guard, I took a few seconds to respond, "Well, Sir, Lou, I intend to do everything I can to make Celia as happy as she has made me, whatever that may be, whatever that may take."

"Okay, I can accept that. You understand, I had to ask. Celia's been through a lot. I don't want to see that happen again. But enough about that. I want to talk to you about something else. I bought some property outside Missoula, Montana to build a vacation home on, possibly as a retirement home. I would be interested in hiring you as a consultant on the plans and construction, in a way that wouldn't interfere with your present employment. Would you be interested?"

"Certainly, but you wouldn't have to hire me. I would be happy to do it, say, as a favor..."

"No, no. I gather you are quite the expert and you deserve to get paid for your expertise, okay?"

"Very well. I'd love to."

"Good, settled. Another brandy?"

"I could stand one more."

"Good man."

It was easy to like Louis. But you could see in his mannerisms and in his eyes, that when it came to business or serious matters, he was probably a formidable force; one more reason for me not to disappoint Celia.

The ladies joined us shortly. The weather was reasonably warm this afternoon, and Gabriela brought out iced tea. We sat and talked for a couple hours. Gabriela was warm and engaging, witty and sweet. I could see a lot of Gabriela in Celia, not only in appearance, but in her sincere, soulful manner. It was truly the best afternoon I'd had in a long time. Kind of felt like home - a home I'd never actually had.

After saying our goodbyes, we headed out. I started to exit the interstate to take Celia home, but she said she needed to return to my place, that she'd left her things there.

V. UNFINISHED BUSINESS

When we got to my house, Celia asked if I could make margaritas and said she had to use the bathroom. I got busy mixing. It was late afternoon but still warm, so I decided to move us to the patio. I called to Celia and informed her.

"Umm, okay," she answered, sounding a little hesitant.

"Is that alright?"

"Sure, it's fine, Nick."

I was sitting looking out on the backyard, when I heard Celia in the living room. I'd left the door open for her.

"Nick, can your neighbors see into your yard?"

"No, not unless they climb up on a fence," I answered over my shoulder.

Celia came out in the negligee she had on the day before, sans robe. I was in the middle of taking a drink and almost missed my mouth. She walked around and paused before sitting, letting me take in the sight of her, then gracefully sat in the chair opposite me. I could see the sheer panties underneath the gossamer nightie, and the dark triangle at the juncture of her long legs. What a beautiful creature. She had also loosened her ponytail and let down her wavy, dark hair, which fell around her shoulders almost to her elbows. Did I mention how beautiful she is?

She casually picked up her drink and took a sip, "This is absolutely divine, Nick."

"Thank you. And you're absolutely divine," I choked out, finding my voice.

"Oh, you smooth talker, you," she replied with a playful smile.

Her expression turned more serious, "Nick, I said we would talk later about...well, you know what about. But I don't want to talk about it anymore. What's past is past. I want to focus on the present, and look forward to what the future can hold for us."

"I am relieved to hear that, Celia; and I won't let you down. That is not a promise; that is a solemn vow. Here's to the most wonderful, understanding, and beautiful woman I have ever known," I said, raising my glass.

She countered, "Here's to us, to new beginnings."

"New beginnings!" I repeated, feeling truly elated.

With her announcement, I felt great relief, and more than hope - I felt expectation and anticipation for what the future could hold.

We sat and talked about our visit with her parents, and she asked how things went with her dad. I told her about him offering me a job. She grinned and recounted how she had told her dad all about me. I disclosed my amazement at how beautiful and young her mother looked and my curiosity about her age.

"Mom is almost 62. Her birthday is next month."

"Not possible!" I exclaimed.

"How old did you think she was?"

"At the outside, 50, but honestly, I only thought that because, otherwise she would be too young to have had you."

"Well, how old do you think I am?"

"That's never a fair question to ask a guy, but again, honestly, I figure between 30 and 34, based on the time you would need to finish college and have had a couple business, then establish a successful one."

"Well, before I tell you my age, let me ask how old you are. I'll tell you up front, I figured you had to be at least 34, because of your history, and I think you look early thirties," she countered.

"I'm 38 pushing 39."

"I'm happy to hear that, Nick..."

"What? You're happy that I'm older?"