Taming Theresa (30 page)

"Hey Vince, our buddy, John, is in love. Says
he's going down to Jersey and drag Vicky's cousin back by her hair,
and he's not going to take 'no' for an answer," said Jack
laughing.

The police officer cocked an eye at his
friend. "Whoa, when did this happen? You mean Vicky's cousin,
Theresa?"

"That's the one," said Jack, grinning
broadly.

“You’re talking about that little feisty
fireball, Theresa?” Vince laughed. “The one that beat the crap out
of you when you called her a stripper!”

“I never called her a stripper! Not exactly!”
John insisted, glaring at his friends. “She thought, that I thought
she was a...” His protests were drowned out by the laughter.

Vince wiped his eyes, chuckling. "If I hadn't
come to his rescue, she might have killed him. I don't know much
Italian, but I can pick out a few words here and there. The things
she said about you..." He shook his head and clucked his tongue in
mock indignation.

Vicky came to her cousin’s defense, “She’d
just broken her engagement. She wasn’t herself.”

"She was incredible! You should have been
there,” said Vince. “We were at the tavern talking about the
bachelor party and you said something about not getting snared by
some fox. You were never getting married. So, now you want to marry
Vicky's cousin, this I’ve gotta see.”

"Nobody's talking about marriage," growled
John. "At least, not yet. I'm just going to...; I'm going to ask
her to come back with me."

"It just simply won't work, John," said Vicky
gently, laying a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not that kind of
family. Uncle Dom and Aunt Rose wouldn't approve. I know my cousin.
She's not that kind of person. Terry may be madly in love with you,
but she's not going to live with you. I can tell you now; it's all
or nothing with her. What is it my Aunt Rose always says? 'I know
what I know'."

There was silence around the table. John
looked at the three impassive faces. He sighed heavily, got up, and
walked to the window.

Vicky followed him, saying, “You haven’t
known her long. Just forget it, John, at least for now.”

John returned to his seat and sat heavily. He
ran his hands through his hair and seemed to be struggling with
himself.

"It's not like being sentenced to death,
John,” said Vince quietly. "If you really feel like Terry is the
one, go for it. Take it from me, or your pal Jack here. Marriage
isn't the end of the world. What? Is your life all alone as a
bachelor so wonderful?"

John’s head came up. He was grinning
devilishly. “What makes you think I don’t want to marry her?” he
said indignantly. “Of course I want to marry her! She’s perfect. I
just hope she’ll have me.”

“What are you saying? You were intending to
ask her all along weren't you?” said Vicky. “That is so sweet.”

“He’s bullshitting you Victoria," said Jack,
laughing with Vince.

"No, he's not. You really mean it don't you
John? You were pulling my leg all along. I think your mind was made
up even before we got home earlier. You've been having fun with us,
you creep. It is very sweet of you though," said Vicky.

John calmly chewed on a pizza crust. “Yeah, I
was. Seriously though? I’m leaving tomorrow.”

"Can you wait until next weekend to ask her?"
said Vicky. "My suggestion is you; maybe all of us, go down on
Sunday. They have a big family dinner every Sunday afternoon. It
would be an appropriate time."

"No.” John shook his head. “I’ve got to see
her. I'm driving down there tomorrow. Damn, I don't even have an
address. Where does she live Vicky?"

She sat, pushing aside cardboard pizza boxes
and plates and began to text him the address and directions. "John,
you need to do this right. Trust me on this. We'll all go down to
Jersey next weekend. Will you have the ring? It's a good idea to
have it handy when you propose, like Joe did with Marsha,
remember?"

"Yeah. My grandmother's ring will be ready by
now. Mom gave it to me before she died."

"That’s so nice, a family heirloom. I think
Terry will like that even more than something new. Family is very
important to her. Is there an inscription inside the band?"

"There is now." John looked sheepish. “It
says, ‘All My Love, All My Life’ and the date we met.”

Vicky punched him on the arm. “You knew all
along you were going to ask her!”

“Ow! Watch my stitches.” John said rubbing
his arm. “You Buonadies women are rough.”

“That is so romantic.” Vicky wiped a tear
from her eye.

“Thanks, John,” said his friends. “How are we
ever going to compete with that one?”

“Jack and I will come along. I'll ask Aunt
Rose."

"It’s not like I need to bring a posse, for
God's sake. I can do this on my own. I'm going down to Jersey
tomorrow and ask her." He looked at his friends. "What if she says
no?"

"I don't believe she'll say, no, and neither
do you," said Vicky quietly.

"Okay, that's it! I'm going!" he shouted,
slapping the table. "I'm going to ask her to marry me, damn it and
she better say yes.”

Vicky got up and hugged him, fresh tears on
her cheeks.

“Wait a minute, Vicky. I don't want her to
know anything about this before I ask her, so please don't tell
Terry anything. Do you really think she'll say yes?"

"You need to take Uncle Dom aside and ask him
first. It's the way it's done."

"Sure, I understand all that. I may be dumb,
but I'm not stupid. I can't believe this. Me, getting married."

"Yeah, it does seem a little farfetched,"
muttered Vince.

Citizens from the surrounding towns and farms
had come to the village of Tappan to witness the execution of the
British Major, John André. As the noon hour approached, the curious
lined the main streets leading up a hill to a clearing where the
gallows awaited. They had heard the daring story of his capture,
and of his swift trial and now a multitude gathered to witness
justice being served.

Ethan held Tamsin’s hand tightly as they
stood with the others behind the line of Continental Regulars in
their blue and buff uniforms. The soldiers were preventing the
throngs from swarming over the gibbet. Local militia stood in less
disciplined ranks or milled among the civilians. Ethan's brother
Isaac and John Paulding stood with several officers before the
gallows.

The crowd hushed and Tamsin heard the
procession before she saw it. First, it was only the low roll of
the drums, then the gentle clip clop of hooves and tramp of
marching feet. Up the hill, at a measured pace, came blue coated
soldiers in ranks of four. Behind them followed a line of drummers
beating the slow cadence. A wagon appeared next, bearing a black
coffin. The condemned Major followed, his bright red regimental
uniform coat distinguishing him from the two continental officers
that flanked him, walking arm in arm. Another file of soldiers
brought up the rear.

André had requested the honor of a firing
squad and expected it to be granted. When the method of execution
became evident, his steps faltered briefly, before he recovered and
resolutely marched on to meet his fate.

Tamsin felt mixed emotions welling up within.
That traitor, General Arnold, was safe behind the British lines in
New York. André, his fellow conspirator and convicted spy, was
abandoned here to hang for the crimes of both. Pity for the
prisoner filled her, while at the same time; she trembled with
anger at the treacherous men who plotted the destruction of their
fledgling nation. Ethan held her firmly against his strong chest,
his presence comforting her.

She watched as Major André climbed up onto
the wagon bed. He tossed his hat onto the coffin and tied his own
blindfold. The hangman, face blackened with soot to hide his
identity, attempted to put the noose around his neck, but the Major
brushed him aside and tightened the rope himself. A handkerchief
was produced and his hands were bound behind him. The drums rolled
on for a moment and then there was silence.

The condemned man was given opportunity to
speak one last time in this life. Tamsin heard him, but was too far
from him to discern his words. When one of the officers raised his
sword as a signal to draw the wagon from beneath the prisoner, she
turned and buried her face against Ethan. He wrapped his arms about
her and held her close, shielding her from the sight of André’s
death. She heard the quiet gasp from the crowd and unable to stop
herself turned to look. The image of the man in his bright red
coat, swinging at the end of the rope was stamped forever on her
memory, before she once more hid her face on her lover’s
breast.

From: Love in Rebellion by Tori Baxter

John turned and looked over his shoulder at
the Hudson River vanishing behind a screen of trees. The Toyota SUV
had just crossed the bridge, passing over the coffee colored water.
Kind of like Caesar, crossing the Rubicon. He fidgeted uneasily in
his seat. No turning back now. Hey, Major André came up the river
once and never made it back down. Why am I thinking about that
now?

Jack was beside him at the wheel with Vicky
in the back seat, happily chatting and laughing with him. How can
they be so unconcerned? What if her old man tosses me out on my
ass? Or Terry might refuse to see me at all. How can I convince her
that I love her if she won't listen to me?

Thrusting his hand into a pocket, John
caressed the velvet jeweler's box, reassuring himself for perhaps
the twentieth time, that he hadn't forgotten the ring. I hope Terry
likes it. It's old-fashioned, a family heirloom, but the diamond is
large. "She'll like the ring, won't she, Vicky?"

"John, she’ll love it.” Vicky leaned over the
seat and smiled at him. “Hey, chill. You look like a condemned man
on the way to his execution.

"No reason to be nervous? Get outta here!
What if Mr. Buonadies says no? What if Terry turns me down? You
know she'll never say yes, if he says no. Then what'll I do?"

"Oh, John. That's so sweet," Vicky cooed.

Jack laughed. "Simple pal, if her old man
kicks you down the front steps, you wait in the car while we have
dinner. We'll drive you back home after dessert."

"That's not funny." John slumped in his
seat.

"Trust me. Everything will be fine," said
Jack. "Remember, I had to meet him first. Uncle Dom isn't a bad
guy."

"Don't worry," said Vicky. "Aunt Rose loves
you."

"But I don't want to marry Aunt Rose! John
moaned, rubbing his face with his hands.

"Hey, it's a good thing," said Jack. “Make
friends with her mother.”

"And Aunt Rose told me that Terry has been
working late at the restaurant every day. If she's not home when we
get there, you can take Uncle Dominick aside and have your man to
man talk with him before she gets back."

John put his head back and closed his eyes,
ignoring the scenery rolling by, while Jack and Vicky kept up their
conversation. My head is pounding. I should've driven my own damn
car. Why did I let them talk me into riding with them? I hate being
a passenger. Why did I let them talk me into waiting until Sunday?
I should have done this on my own, several days ago.

In his head, John began rehearsing what he'd
say to Terry's father. Mr. Buonadies, I want to marry your
daughter. No. Mr. Buonadies, I'm in love with your daughter...no,
I'm in love with Terry and I want to marry her. Mr. Buonadies,
Terry and I are in love and I'd like your permission to marry your
daughter. I can't believe I'm really going to ask Terry to marry
me. And, I've got to go through her father first! It's almost as
intimidating as Tony waving his revolver in my face.

When John asked to speak privately with him,
Dominick politely invited him into his study. The room was redolent
with the scent of leather and fine cigars. On the hearth, a
cheerful fire flickered not far from his large cherry wood
desk.

"Please, have a seat." Dominick motioned to
the leather wing chairs that faced the fieldstone fireplace with a
small table between them, went to a sideboard, and retrieved a
bottle and two glasses. He put the glasses on the table and poured
a drink for each of them. "John, before you begin, I would like to
thank you once again for protecting my daughter. Theresa has told
me how you placed yourself in harm’s way in order to shield her
from Mr. DePalma's gun.”

John looked up, surprised. “It’s what any man
would have done.”

“You think so? Perhaps when you are a father
one day, you will understand just how much this means to me."

As John sipped, the amber liquid gave off the
smoky perfume of a fine single malt scotch; however, he was too
keyed up to appreciate it. Putting the glass down, he came straight
to the point. "Mr. Buonadies, I love your daughter and I'd like to
have your blessing when I ask her to marry me."

The smile faded from the older man's face and
he stared into the flames, nodding for a moment. Dominick sipped
before setting his glass down, saying, "When I told Rose's father
that I wanted to marry his daughter, the man objected. Who could
blame him? What could I offer? I was just out of the Marines and
had no prospects, no education to speak of, and no experience,
except for that gained during two tours of duty in Viet Nam. He
told me to return when I had a job with a future and money in the
bank." He smiled at John and laughed. "We compromised."

“I own a home and have a profitable business.
If Terry wants...”

Dominick held up a hand to stop him. "That no
longer matters. Theresa is well educated and can support herself if
she chooses. Often parents feel that they know better, having the
benefit of their experience and perhaps they do." He paused again,
and sipped delicately, sighing with satisfaction, but then his
manner became brusque. "You and my Theresa have only known each
other for a short time.