Adirondack Audacity Read online

  “What are you talking about? Mom! How much did you have to drink? This is Esteban Diago.” She demands tugging on Vic’s arm. “Are the two of you drunk or high? Put her down! Mom!” She wails, “I leave you alone for a few minutes…….!”

  “Lani, I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, but my real name is Vicente Rienz. I only use Esteban Diago for my acting roles.” Vic says extending his arm from under my butt to shake Lani’s hand, chuckling at her bewildered expression. “Your mother and I have a lot of catching up to do. I promise to return her with no harm done, but we need more privacy than is offered here.”

  “Oh God, this is insane.” Lani looks dubious as Vic sets me on my feet, keeping a protective arm around my waist. Lani looks at Jason in askance as a large black limo speeds around the corner. “I guess, Mom, are you sure you want to go off with him?”

  “I’ll be fine, if Diago is trying to kidnap me, with that horde of photographers following him,” I point down the corridor at the photographers trying to get past the security. “He isn’t going to get very far.” I take my purse from Lani’s hand. “I have my cell phone, I’ll call you when I wake up from this crazy dream…..cause this must be a dream.” I look up scrutinizing Diago’s face, my hand automatically running up and down the fabric of his sleeve, trying to convince myself….is this really Vic standing here?

  “Hey amigo, we had better go.” A tall lean man with russet red hair, sprinkled with grey, holds open the door to the limo. “I don’t know what kind of shit you got yourself into this time. But those paparazzi heading this way are looking for blood.”

  “Lani, Jason, Don’t say a word to them.” Vic warns as he tucks me into the car. “Every word you say will be splashed crossed the morning’s tabloids.” He raps on the roof of car signaling to Ike. “Vamonos!” He calls out.

  As the car door slams shut, I settle back into the leather interior, closing my eyes to still the whirling throbbing in my head.

  Vic takes my hand and gently skims his thumb across my knuckles as the limo speeds away from the hotel. “Elle, querida, are you all right?” He asks his voice laced with concern.

  I open my eyes and smile. “I want to touch your face,” I see surprise reflected in his eyes. Lifting my hand, I caress his chin, run my fingers across his high cheekbones, trace the outline of his lips, the broad plane of his forehead and finally I run my fingers through his hair. In the pictures from the movie, his hair was cut very short, in a blunt military style. With a sob of disbelief, I finally realize the truth. This is Vicente Rienz sitting next to me. Different…….but oh, so much the same.

  “Kiss me, and then I’ll know for sure.” I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his head closer to me. His proximity is overwhelming, exhilarating. The familiar pull is there, all my nerve endings goading me toward him, my inhibitions fading. How can he still do this to me?

  His mouth is on mine, that gentle, persuasive, slow simmering warmth patiently unlocks every shred of doubt. My resistance melts like wax, rekindling the spell he put on me so long ago.

  When he draws back, his hands outline my face, fingers skimming over my cheekbones, then down, trailing lightly over my throat. Remembering it, experiencing it, is like being offered a cool sip of water before you realize how desperately thirsty you are.

  “Elle, is it really you?” His eyes search my face. “I can’t believe you are here. How can this be happening?” He leans in kissing me softly, whispering in my ear. “Where have you been all these years?”

  And that’s when it hits me. Bam. Right in the gut. “Where have I been all these years!” I cry out with indignation. Suddenly all the pain and pent up heartache comes pouring forth in a rush of anger. I feel a well of fury rise up so quickly I nearly choke on it. I’m livid, incensed with rage. Look out every wronged, scorned and cheated on woman in the world…….cause here I am, ready to avenge. I draw my hand back and slap his cheek with all the hurt and rage I have repressed for so long.

  “Wh…Wh….Whereee!” I sputter. “Where, have I been!! You, bastard, you left me behind with a baby. You left me with those horrid people who wanted nothing more than to steal my baby and put me in a mental institution. You said you would always come back!! You take off to live your life as some glamorous movie star without a thought to those you left behind. You, lying, cheating, no good son of a bitch.” I’m hysterical….Okay, I am way beyond hysterical. Great heaving gasps of sobs rack my body. My fists pound his chest as I scream insults against the injuries he inflicted on me so many years ago. “I thought you loved me!” I gasp. “You swore you would never leave. Never leave, ever! Then you run off and leave me with our baby. They stole our baby. I had no one to turn to, you were gone. Then a month later your aunt calls. She regrets to inform me that you died in a motorcycle accident! You asshole!” I slug his chest once more for good measure. “You look pretty alive to me!”

  And I’m just warming up, this guy needs body armor. “What kind of heartless bastard are you? How could I have been so stupid? All these years I’ve loved you….. never, ever, stopped loving you. A husband and two children later and I still loved you.” I scream flinging myself back against the seat in agony. “What kind of idiot am I? The classic dump and I never saw it.” I’m into the ugly cry now….and not a Kleenex in sight.

  “Hey, buddy,” Ike’s voice comes over the car’s intercom system. “Everything all right back there? Do you need some assistance?”

  “No, he does not need assistance!” I shout at the partially opened Plexiglas window separating us, flinging my purse at it. “If he is not man enough to hear what a rotten piece of pond scum he is, he deserves to be beat up by a woman.” I launch into another barrage of fist pummeling against Vic’s chest. I swing my hand back to slap him again when a steel grip closes over my wrist.

  “Elle, we need to talk.” Vic says in a tight voice, attempting to calm my agitated state. “Ike, I need you to pull over as quickly as possible. I’m going to be sick.”

  “Sick, oh please,” I fume; “Give me a break, what kind of girly excuse is that.”

  “Sure thing.” Ike responds. The car swerves off the road, thumps over a speed bump and comes to a screeching halt in a deserted parking lot. “Here is a beach, hop out.”

  As soon as the car comes to a stop, Vic vaults out the door to the concrete wall separating the parking lot from the beach. I hear him retching onto the sand below, as I step from the car.

  “What’s he doing?” I stupidly ask Ike, who’s standing next to me with a chilled bottle of water and clean cloth in his hand.

  “I believe it’s called vomiting.” He says sarcastically.

  “I know that,” I say defensively. “Just because I yelled at him? The weak bastard!”

  “When Vic gets unhinged, his stomach goes.” Ike glances at me with disapproval, the street light overhead illuminating his amber eyes. “I only heard part of what you said to him, sounded like a lot of yelling and screaming. If there is one thing I know, Vic Rienz is not a weak bastard.” His voice is icy with condemnation.

  “Maybe if you stopped screaming like a crazy woman and let him talk, you might hear his side of the story.”

  “Here,” Ike shoves the bottle and washcloth at me. “Why don’t you quit yelling and see if he’s okay. I’ll stay right here in case you get crazy again.”

  Well, I guess I’ve been told. I find myself standing alone looking at Vic’s back. He’s leaning on the stonewall looking out over the ocean, trying to compose himself.

  I walk over to him, not knowing what to do. “Here,” I say pouring water from the bottle over the cloth.

  “Thanks,” he says without turning around, and wipes his face. He takes a drink from the bottle to rinse his mouth. “Sorry about that. I have this weird stomach thing, when I get upset, I heave. Simple as that. Damn pain in the ass and embarrassing too.” He turns to face me. “Elle, we need to talk. Please believe me, I never left you.”

  The anger dissolved from my
body, the ranting and raving served as a purge and now I feel empty. Hollow from the place where pain resided for so many years, erecting its own shrine. I feel emotionally drained, there’s no fight left in me, either I listen or turn and walk away. It’s rare for people to get a second chance in life. Was I going to turn my back on Vic? That undaunted love……. the pain over losing of him had never left me.

  “Tell me what happened, Vic.” I say in a hoarse voice ragged from screaming and crying. “Tell me what happened to you.”

  He throws a leg over the wall and sits, his eyes facing the ocean, not looking at me, pulling thoughts from the past. “Agghh, I tried to forget, it hurt too much to remember.” he sighs, raking his hand through his hair.

  “After I was dragged from the bus station, my father made sure I was locked in jail. I was charged with assaulting an officer of the law with a deadly weapon and illegal possession. He wouldn’t even get me a lawyer, said I deserved the punishment. So I spent five months in a juvenile prison camp in Mexico.”

  I sit quietly on the wall and listen.

  “When I was released he picked me up and said he was taking me to a place I needed to see. We flew to New York City, so I thought he was taking me to you and the baby. But we drove to a small private cemetery outside of Syracuse, I didn’t want to get out of the car, but he insisted he had something to show me. I knew what I was going to see even before I got out of the car. It was your family cemetery; there were gravestones with your family names etched on them.” Here he pauses shaking his head, making an obvious effort to stay in control of his emotions. Remaining silent, I squeeze his hand in reassurance; I know the cemetery. “There in the back of the cemetery was a new gravestone with your name, date of birth and date of your death. Our baby daughter was buried with you.” his voice raw with emotion, “You see, he told me you died in childbirth along with the baby.” He snatches his hand from mine and pounds his fist onto the stone, “I believed him! What the hell was the matter with me?” He rages, “The sneakiest, most conniving bastard I have ever known and…..I trusted him!”

  “He told you I was dead. Oh, my God.” The horror of the duplicity of our parents washes over me. How could we have been so easily deceived? I slump down on the wall beside him, stunned. I just keep repeating, “Oh my God, oh my God….”

  “What happened to the baby, Elle?” Anguish is written on his face.

  “The baby was a boy, not a girl. Vic, we had a baby boy.” I rest my head against him, and he kisses my hair repeatedly. “They stole him away. I never got to hold him.”

  “Jesus,” I feel him murmur into my hair.

  “Your parents and mine signed the papers for adoption, stating we were under age and not fit to be parents. And the baby was gone, just gone. I tried to find him but the records are sealed and I finally had to let it go. But it still hurts knowing he is out there somewhere.” Vic tugs my hand, and before I know it, I’m on his lap with his arms around me.

  He breaths, “Elle, Elle, I’m so sorry.” I feel his body trembling under the linen shirt. “So sorry, how can I ever make it up to you?”

  I shake my head. “It wasn’t our fault. I can’t believe our parents were capable of such evil. They had the power, more than we realized.”

  He tightens his hold on me. “After all the betrayals from him in the past, I should have known. But the gravestone was real.” He holds his wrist up to validate the truth to his words. “I have scars on my wrists from where I beat my hands bloody on it. He just stood there and watched.” He shakes his head. “How do you fake such a thing? What kind of man fakes someone’s death, complete with a gravestone? Who do you bribe or pay off to accomplish such a thing.” The muscles in his cheek twitch as he tries to hold in the anger. “God, I hate him. I didn’t think I could hate him any more than I already did, but if he were standing here I’d kill him with my bare hands.”

  Waves of rage pulse from his body, leaving little doubt;; this time he would lash back…… with fatal consequences.

  “He took me back to Mexico. I was numb with grief, didn’t care what I did or where I was going.” Pausing he looks into my face, “I basically tried to kill myself.” He says with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders.

  “Nooo.” I feel his pain, palpable in the night air; our families betrayed us, nearly destroying us in the process.

  “I’d ride my motorcycle or the wildest horse on the ranch; I didn’t care if I came back.” He says, shaking his head over his stupidity. “I rode bareback with no saddle and the lightest bridle I could find. I drove too fast, took the curves too short And then one day, I got my wish I took a curve too sharp, spun off the road and landed thirty feet down a bank. I left half my face on the asphalt road and crushed half the bones in my body on the fall.” He looks skyward, exhaling harshly. “But I didn’t die. I was in so much pain, but I didn’t die. I wanted to, but they wouldn’t let me. I had several reconstructive surgeries on my face, which is why you didn’t recognize me right away. Some people think I look better than I did before the surgeries.” He gives a bitter smile. “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s just say it didn’t hurt your looks.” I murmur, caressing the hollows of his cheekbones.

  “Thank you.” He gives a wry smile. “The only good thing to come out of the whole mess was my mother stopped drinking. She roused out of her alcoholic stupor to nurse me back to life. The nurses weren’t allowed to care for me unless it was something she wasn’t capable of doing. After my recovery, she divorced my father and never drank again.”

  “Do you still see her?”

  “Yes, actually we’re fairly close. My father died five years ago of a heart attack. I hadn’t seen or spoken to him in over twenty years so it was no great loss.”

  “What did you do, when you got better?” I ask softly, hugging his arm close to my body, his heat warming my skin.

  “Drifted mostly, I had to get away. I signed on a freighter ship as a crew hand and basically traveled the world. The time in jail had hardened me. I was now one tough kid with an attitude, and the wandering lifestyle suited my mood. Ike and I met on an oil freighter bound out of Saudi Arabia.” He shakes his head musing, “Ike and I have been together…a long time.” He chuckles. “We were freighter tramps, young and dumb, moving from one ship to another. Whatever ship paid the most money. Both running away from the life we left behind. We’ve been watching each other’s back ever since. Ike is my best friend and aside from my mother, my family. He stayed on to be my back up man once the movie business started; always hire a friend as a bodyguard. Can’t trust anyone else.”

  “How in the world did you get into acting? Seems a far cry from being a freighter tramp?” I’m overwhelmed with questions.

  “South America.”

  “South America?”

  “Yeah, we were in Chili on a leave from the boat. A production company was filming a movie. As a joke we signed on as extras. The joke was on me because the camera liked my face. That and the fact I speak fluent Spanish and English led to larger parts and a few years later, I was in Hollywood, and now, in a film possibly nominated for an Academy Award. It’s just nuts how it all happened.”

  “I’m sorry for going crazy on you, Vic.” I slip out of his lap to stand in front of him. I let my eyes roam up and down the length of his body. I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact he is here……Vic, leaning into him I enfold myself into his arms. “I guess you didn’t run out on me. I’ve lived with the thought of you dead for so long, it was a shock seeing you standing there, this huge movie star, I jumped to the wrong conclusions.”

  “Dios mio,” He shakes his head, his eyes soften with understanding. “I can see how you thought that.”

  His frown deepens as I continue, “It hasn’t been easy for either of us, has it?” He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles tenderly; the touch of his lips on my skin resonates through me. I shrug my shoulders and the joy in finding him seeps through the pain of the past. “And yet for some strange magica
l reason, we’re standing on a beach in California holding each other.”

  “I think it’s called kismet.” He says with a chuckle pulling me to him.

  “Do you know what I want to do now?” I ask, tipping my head back looking into his eyes.

  “No, but I think you’re going to tell me.”

  “Look, what a beautiful night,” I gesture toward the water and sky. “The ocean is calm, the moon and stars are out. A perfect night to take a romantic stroll down the beach with someone you once loved.”

  “Always the nature girl?” He smiles down at me.

  “Yep,” My lips twitch with laughter.

  “Good, I’ve missed her.”

  Slipping off the wall, I hold out my hand to him. “Do you think we could just walk, hand and hand, no more talking of the past or the future……..for a while.” My mind is reeling from the enormity of this evening. “For now….I want to kick off my shoes, hold your hand and walk through the surf. No thinking, no talking…….just you and me…..….I want this moment to last……because I found you…...”

  Vic stands up, purses his lips, unable to hide his amusement and offers his arm. “My lady, shall we walk?”

  Chapter 28 Redemption Waves gently toss grains of sand back and forth, back and forth, the rhythm of the ocean lapping the shore. The moon overhead reflected in the surf. Constellations wink down from the sky above, calling out their names, Swan, Lion, Sirius and Leo. Tensions ease and familiarity sets in as we stroll down the beach. The slow easy motion of walking allows the events of the evening to fall in place, the pain and confusion of the past fade, and the magic that was ours reclaimed.

  The beach deserted, no one in sight, the lights from the parking lot fade away replaced by the sporadic lighting of private residences. A blue lifeguard tower stands as a lonely sentinel to the sea.

  “Think we can climb up there?” I ask , cocking my head, fluttering my eyelashes in a flirtatious manner. “I need to sit for a bit, and I’ve never been in a lifeguard’s stand. Maybe you can give me a tour?”