ATONEMENT (23 page)

Alfonzo
started walking in the opposite direction of the car
. He strolled
pas
t
the shops and cursed when he realized Vincent tailed him. ‘
Fucking
guy
never
listens
!’

He entered the Spanish Restaurant, one he’d visited many times because the food was so
delicious. He
scanned
the place
for the pretty hostess who’d flirted with him each time he came. She’d given him her number on a napkin but he discarded it, at the time he wasn’t interested. Today was different. Not that he was looking for a relationship,
f
ar from it
. He
wanted sex…not with a random stranger or a prostitute
. No, so
meone he
somewhat
liked
.
S
omeone with a
bubbly
personality
, to lift him out of his black mood
, s
omeone
with sparkly eyes
,
like his wife.

The
pretty
waitress
was cleaning tables, she saw him and hurried over, cloth in hand. Her eyes were dazzling, more brilliant than her smile. Her black wavy hair was pulled into a ponytail. Selange wore her hair like that whenever she exercised or cooked or swam. They were different, he knew that, but if he were going to fuck somebody why not a look-alike.

“
Hola
, Sonia, getting off
soon
?”

“Five minutes,
por
qu
é
?”

She was close to him, looking up. Her hair smelled like the grease from the kitchen, Selange’s like cinnamon. He also noticed she was much shorter than his wife, her breasts smaller and her hips narrow, almost boyish. Selange’s hips
were
curv
aceous,
unmistakably feminine. His wife oozed sensuality. Sonia did not; she was pretty, his wife was striking.
He chastised himself for the constant comparison and for considering cheating but he was lonely and wanted female companionship.

Maybe, he
’d just
take her out for a drink instead
.
They could talk and he
’d
see where it led. If they clicked maybe he’d consider the fucking part. “Have a drink with me
,” he
grinned
,
when she beamed excitedly
he added
, “and dinner if you’re hungry. Let someone wait on you for a change, how about it?”

Sonia smiled, “Tu esposa, how will she feel about it?”

Alfonzo’s grin widened, “Isn’t it how you’ll
feel
about it that matters?”

The double-entendré brought a knowing smile to Sonia’s lips. Alfonzo hadn’t lost his touch with the ladies. She scurried to clock out then joined him for dinner and several drinks.
During the evening he found the
conversation wasn’t particularly stimulating or partially substantive. He learned she lived alone, had no interest in going to college, liked her waitressing job because she got big tips, she’d done some modeling, swim-suits mainly, her hobby consisted of going to clubs and partying with friends. Party-girl, social-diva is actually how she described herself. He drank too much, while listening to her talk about herself. Funny, he thought, eight years ago he might have thought her hot and interesting. She did have nice eyes, though. He focused his attention there, “Where do you live?”

“On
Cinco
calle
.”

Convenient, a nice stroll of three blocks.
“Let me walk you home.”

“Sure.”

The upscale restaurant not only served great food
,
but
also complimentary condoms
in the men’s restroom
. He’d grabbed a few from the
ornate
soap dish,
just in case!

                                          
***

Sonia’s one bedroom apartment was cramped, filled with bulky furnishings more suitable for a house. He sat on the floral sofa. It was comfortable and he sort of sank there like a marshmallow, watching through sleepy eyes as she excused herself and went to the bathroom. He tried calling forth the old Alfonzo, the one who’d slept with countless
women
, stayed detached and split immediately after the sexual act. Strange, he didn’t emerge and what’s more strange was the enormous guilt he experienced being there. He thought to leave but he was beat. His head fell backward on the cozy little couch and Alfonzo conked out.

A buzzing against his thigh brought him awake. Groggily, his eyes tried to focus and he cleared his throat while reaching for the pesky metal bee inside his pant pocket.

“Um, yeah…what?”
He asked as he tried clearing the fog of sleep from his brain.

“
Hun,
is everything okay, I called the house and Anita said you hadn’t come home and weren’t answering your cell, what happened?”

He was fully awake, now. Hell, he wiped his eyes, noticed he wasn’t home and stood, “Yeah…yeah…I’m good. I fell asleep at the office…”

“
Bueno
you’re up. I’m making French toast, you want some?” Sonia shouted from an adjoining room. 

Alfonzo froze.

‘
I’m
b
usted
!’

Silence ensued; a very long uncomfortable nothingness. He didn’t say
a word
and Sonia stepped from behind the petition wall with a whisk in her hand, saw him on the phone, grimaced then mouthed ‘
sorry’
before tip-toeing away.

Alfonzo’s face drew tight. He might’ve lied his way out of this had it not been for Sonia’s interruption but presently he was in no position to do anything except deal with the aftermath.

Selange’s composure made him flinch, “Okay…go eat breakfast with your girlfriend and tell her your wife said thanks for feeding you. Bye!”

That was it, an anti-climactic and sarcastic response then she hung up.

He considered calling Selange back then changed his mind. He got busted in a lie, plain and simple. He had no justification or excuses for it. Besides, she was probably furious and who wouldn’t be. First, he had to get home, say good-morning to the children, change clothes then make an appearance at a shareholder’s meeting. Later, he’d call Selange, maybe then she’d listen to his dumb explanation, because seriously that’s what it was, D-U-M-B!

                          
CHAPTER EIGHT

Lucia and
Crystalia
were at the dining table, whispering conspiratorially when
Selange
came down for breakfast. The pretty redhead spoke but Lucia said nothing.
Without a care, Selange skipped around the table, lifting fruit and a roll from the
breakfast
tray
. She
stacked them on
her p
late.

“I slept like a baby last night,”
Crystalia
announced.

Tia entered with coffee and juice
, s
at them down then vanished.

“So did I.” Selange smiled devilishly plucking a strawberry in her mouth. She chewed, “
Ummm
, did anyone hear a loud scream, I wonder what happened?”

This set Lucia off, “American beech!”

“
It’s
bitch, rhymes with stitch.”

Renalda
and Kim-Sung floated in.

“
Oooh
, you think I will not hit you, eh because you are Alfonzo’s wife, eh?”

Marcella appeared suddenly, “Lucia, shut-up!”

“No, she put worms on my bed.
The whore!”

Another strawberry was devoured, “Call me that one more time and I
’ll
deliver on my promise.”

“
Oooh
, beech.
Go to America!” Lucia fumed then stormed from the table in an impotent rage.

The others were laughing except for
Renalda
. “We should not fight each other. I am sorry, Selange for scaring you. It was not nice. Forgive me.”

The apology seemed sincere, but then again, Selange didn’t really know the women. Besides, it was easy to unleash her anger on the women because they were here and Alfonzo was not. Nerve, of him…how dare he confess how much he missed her then run straight to another woman’s bed?

Ooooh
, she was so angry at him but wondered if she had a right to be. After-all she was the one
possibly
carrying another man’s child
and trying to seduce Nico.

“Some of us are going to the salon are you coming today?”
Renalda
asked.

“No, I’d like to see the countryside,
maybe
next time.”

Marcella was sitting with her coffee, “The wedding is soon. It is going to be
bellissimo
!”

They began to chatter excitedly, Selange found herself joining in. Happiness was contagious. Every time
Crystalia
asked a question about the location, Marcella shot her a murderous glance
and she fell
silen
t
.
.

Amelda
and Sophie were out early she was told, on a mother-daughter errand. The women were free to do as they
pleased. The
gap in the itinerary allow
ed
for private time.

Selange was the only one who passed on the salon, she wasn’t in the mood for small-talk and the women talked a lot. She might
get
whiplash from it. Instead, she dressed comfortably and de
cided to visit one of the olive gardens she’d seen during the drive yesterday. It didn’t seem far, besides walking was a great form of exercise.