Unforgettable (27 page)

Rett rang the doorbell at the Martinettas’. Angie opened it a few moments later and whistled.

“You look almost as good as Auntie Angel.”

“Why, thank you.” Rett wasn’t put out by Angie’s bias. She followed Angie to the greatroom where the elder Martinettas were sipping after dinner coffee while the two Tonys and their brothers-in-law, already in tuxedos, were clustered around the television watching a Twins game.

Tia had followed her into the room. “Angel will be right out. That dress is yummy.” 

Rett smoothed the deep green fabric. Sequins spilled across the shoulders and over the bodice, then narrowed to a thin line that swooped across her stomach to the hem. It made her all bosom, but she’d taken to heart the knowledge that no one ever looked at Marilyn Monroe’s stomach. “So is yours.” The creamy linen suited Tia’s velvety olive skin, a trait all of the Martinetta women shared.

“Mr. Martinetta, sir.” Rett made her voice break like a nervous adolescent’s. “I’m here to take Angel to the dance.”

Angel’s father laughed. “Have her back by ten.”

“You mean ten A.M., right, Papa? You won’t see Paul and me before then. Big Tony says there’s a dance club in Minneapolis that’s open until four and I’m going to make the most of it. Paul takes me out once in a blue moon.”

T.J.’s wife entered next, equally glamorous. “I hope that game is just about over.”

The gentlemen made assorted reassuring noises, then high-fived at a home run.

When Angel came in Rett was completely tongue-tied. “Professorial” was the very last word she’d use to describe the breathtakingly beautiful creature in a chocolate brown, form-hugging dress. The body that was molded by the halter top made Rett’s hands sweat. The earrings they’d chosen together winked in her ears. Angel turned slowly to the appreciative whistles of her family. The dress plummeted in the back to below her waist, snugly outlined Angel’s hips and hinder, then flared out to just above her knees. “What do you think?”

Rett found it hard to swallow. “I think—” Her voice broke all by itself. “I think we’re going to need Natalie for security.”

Angel grinned and became human again. “You look pretty good yourself.”

“I’m not in your league.”

“If that’s flattery, I’d like some more.”

The other women were attempting to pry their husbands from the ballgame when Angel and Rett left.

“Do I really look okay?” Angel glanced at her face in the passenger mirror. “I don’t usually go for something so revealing, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. My nieces have very daring fashion sense.”

“You look gorgeous. Maybe we could skip the dance and just go back —”

“Not on your life.” Angel extended her stocking-clad legs. “I shaved my legs and they deserve some fun.”

“It’s going to feel very weird to be dressed like this in the old gymnasium.”

“It’s going to feel very weird just to walk down the school halls. We’re such different people.”

“Maybe that’s the whole point of coming to a reunion. To be assured you really have changed.”

Angel laughed when Rett turned into the parking lot that had always been for students. “I think we can safely park in the closer lot. We’re grownups now.”

Rett sheepishly drove around to the other side of the school to park closer to the gym. “It still seems strange.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” Angel had to reapply her lipstick when Rett was done. “Christ, already making out in the parking lot.”

“And the sun’s not even down.” 

Walking through the old hallways was indeed strange. Rett detoured Angel to their old lockers. Other people were doing the same thing. The foyer of the gymnasium had a table with name badges no one was putting on, and a display with black ribbons for those who had died in the intervening years.

“Mr. Barnwell,” Rett said sadly. “I was hoping he would be here. He encouraged me so much — I think I would have given up if it hadn’t been for him.”

“Hank Bredelove.” Angel touched his picture. “I always thought he was gay.”

Natalie’s arrival in a tuxedo made Rett exclaim, “Girlfriend! You look fabulous!”

Natalie gestured at their dresses. “After all these years of comfort I was not getting into one of those.”

“You are going to make some hearts go pitapat.”

Angel turned away to say something to Bunny.

Natalie shrugged. “There’s only one that matters.”

Rett thought she understood. She patted Natalie’s arm. “I think you’re going to have better luck than I ever had.”

“I hope so. If she even shows, after last night.”

They went into the gymnasium, which was festooned with crepe paper and lit with a disco ball. The theme was “Stairway to Heaven” — that brought back memories. Were we ever this young? Rett wondered. We must have been, but I sure as hell don’t remember the feeling.

A D.J. was spinning tunes but no one was dancing yet. Everyone seemed suitably vivacious as the numbers grew. People who hadn’t come early enough for the picnic were having “remember me” conversations, and Rett drifted away from Angel for a while. 

When she met up with Thor Gustafson she gestured at her dress. “See? Lesbian sequins, lesbian green —”

Thor grimaced. “The whole town knows about Cinny leaving her husband. Don’t you girls know the meaning of propriety?”

Rett was tempted to answer a la Barbra Streisand, but was rescued by Wayne Igorson. “There you are, Rett. We’re ready to start.”

They didn’t look half bad as an ensemble in the best bibs and tuckers. There were no microphones, but the gymnasium acoustics were decent enough. Wayne’s meticulous guitar work quieted the crowd and their harmonies carried throughout the room. Polite applause followed “Scarborough Fair,” then more laughter as they clowned their way through “Leader of the Pack,” sung by the girls, and “She’s So Fine,” sung by the boys. Wayne segued into a mellifluous classical piece that healed Rett’s ears, which had suffered far too much from the local radio selections. As he was finishing she recognized the opening strains of her song. Wayne was leading into it beautifully, slowing the pace and finding the tempo and key they’d agreed on.

They’d pitched it low because it suited Rett’s voice. It also suited how she felt. She sang the opening verse of “Something in the Way She Moves” at half voice, then rose to full voice in the chorus. Her gaze never left Angel and the reflection of spinning lights in Angel’s luminous eyes made Rett want to swim in their depths for a lifetime.

The applause was gratifying and they quickly synched for their final number, led by Jeanette’s accordion. “Kodachrome” was their anthem, and more than one person in the audience joined in. The D.J. quickly started up the dance music again when they were done, and after she’d exchanged hugs with everyone, Rett went in search of Angel, who had disappeared into the crowd.

T.J. caught her hand. “Dance with me.”

“You bet.” The Bee Gees were crooning “How Deep Is Your Love?”

“I’m trying to figure out how not to offend you,” T.J. said suddenly after a minute of turning Rett around the dance floor.

“How so?”

“Well, I’m empowered by my siblings to threaten your life if you make Angel unhappy.”

He was joking, but not entirely. “I consider myself duly warned.”

“Good. It needed to be said.”

“I don’t mind. I like that you care for your sister.”

“You’re an only child, huh?”

“Yes.” She barely stopped herself from adding, “Thank God.” She wouldn’t wish her mother on anyone else.

“That must be weird. Then again, you never had to share the shower with three girls.”

“We all had our crosses to bear,” Rett said lightly. “I am curious, though. You’re Catholic and yet you approve — heck, you applaud your sister’s life. All of it. Me.”

T.J. thought for a moment. “Mama always said we should read the Bible and pay attention to our priests, but listen hardest to God, who speaks to your heart. God will understand and forgive anything you do out of love. I know that God will understand that I loved my sister and Him more than words on paper written by pious but mistaken men.”

It was so eloquently said that Rett wanted to kiss him. She contented herself with a hug.

T.J. grinned and let Big Tony cut in. “I already warned her,” he said.

“Okay,” Big Tony said. He twirled Rett away, then said, “We’re serious, you know.”

“I know.”

Angel was tapping on Big Tony’s shoulder. “Can I dance with my date now?”

“I’ll treat her like porcelain,” Rett said to Big Tony.

Angel gave her brother an accusing look. “What did you say to her?”

Still protesting his innocence, Big Tony faded into the crowd. “Nothing at all. Wasn’t me.”

“They love you,” Rett said. She pulled Angel close and rested her chin on Angel’s head.

“Thef feffum mam wuff,” Angel said.

“What?” Rett leaned away so she could hear better.

“I said, I can’t breathe. I mean, I don’t mind where my lips ended up, but I couldn’t breathe.”

Rett laughed and wiped surreptitiously at the lipstick on her bosom.

They danced for a long time. Rett forgot to notice if they’d shocked anybody. She didn’t care.

It was near midnight when they clambered up the hill behind the school and sat in the cool night air.

“We’re ruining our dresses,” Rett said.

“I think they’ll survive. I just wanted to be here with you and know that this time it’s all turning out differently.” 

Rett liked Angel’s head on her shoulder. She began to hum.

“Sing the words,” Angel whispered.

” ‘Unforgettable … that’s what you are …’ ” Rett put her arm around Angel, who gazed up at her with such love that Rett forgot the next line. “Well, that’s a first,” Rett whispered. She lost herself in Angel’s kiss.

Perhaps half the people had left by the time they returned to the dance, but the music had caught up to the times as Santana’s sweat-drenched “Smooth” brought out slow and sexy moves from those who remained. She and Angel were going to follow her siblings to the dance club in a while, but in the meantime the music suited Rett perfectly.

The D.J. had obviously decided to go with Latin rhythms for a bit. “Smooth” gave way to Gloria Estefan’s “Conga.” The blistering pace of Ricky Martin’s “Cup of Life” made most people, Rett and Angel included, yield the floor to anyone with the energy to keep up.

One couple was keeping up. Cinny hadn’t stayed away after all. She looked wild in a scarlet sheath slit to her hips as she kept pace with the tuxedoed figure that twisted and turned her to the breathless beat of the music.

“Who’s that?” Angel was on tiptoe trying to get a better look. “Her husband?” 

“Not her soon-to-be-ex,” Rett said. “Would you look at that —it’s Natalie.”

“Oh my God. Even when she comes out that woman doesn’t lack for panache, does she?”

Rett glanced around. There were disapproving and puzzled expressions. She wondered if there was anything she could do to change anyone’s mind, but they were jostled aside by Bunny and Tom, who circled Natalie and Cinny chanting, “Go, go, go, ale, ale, ale” with the music. Lisa and a man Rett didn’t recognize quickly followed suit.

Rett saw the heartfelt look Angel directed at T.J., and he and his wife quickly joined the circle as Angel and Rett stepped forward, too. Then the rest of Angel’s siblings were joining the cheering section and even Kate was clapping along. Rett hoped that Cinny could see that she had friends who weren’t going to desert her now that the news was out.

Natalie was spinning Cinny into a blur of legs and hair. In a move that took Rett back to watching Cinny’s cheerleading squad, Natalie lifted Cinny shoulder-high, then tossed her higher still. Cinny punched the air and shouted, “Go!” Rett gasped — Cinny was going to break her neck. The song ended abruptly. Cinny fell onto her back, stopped just short of the floor by Natalie’s grip on her wrists. For a moment the only things that moved were Cinny and Natalie’s heaving chests, then Natalie snatched Cinny back to her feet to cheers from the circle of onlookers.

Rett noticed Bunny elbowing Tom hard in the ribs and he quickly stepped up to ask Cinny to dance as the D.J. wisely switched to something a little more sedate. Natalie didn’t hesitate to ask Bunny, who laughed and accepted.

“Cinny’s going to wonder what she was ever afraid of.” Rett put her arm around Angel.

Angel tipped her head back. Her eyes were like liquid amber. “Don’t we all?”

Rett hadn’t been in Angel’s L.A. apartment enough to feel as if she was going to miss it. Angel was taping the last box and the movers were just about through.

Ten weeks, she reminded herself. You’ll see her again in ten weeks. Since they had both returned home last month they’d hardly been apart. Only Rett’s steady stream of engagements, including a weekend in Seattle and several days in San Antonio, had separated them for more than a day. Angel had thrown herself into passing on leadership of her UCLA project to other researchers she said were equally able. Apparently UCLA had tried to bribe her to stay, but she’d been adamant. The Mayo Clinic was expecting her tomorrow morning, bright and early.

“That’s it,” Angel said to the last mover. Her voice echoed in the empty apartment. She turned to Rett. “I am so tired — fuck my cleaning deposit. Let’s get a bite to eat someplace where they’ll ply me with a dozen diet Cokes and food that isn’t good for me.”

They ended up at Islands for burgers and sodas. Angel’s plane left in three hours and Rett was trying not to cry. It’s only ten weeks. She told herself that she’d lived for forty years without seeing Angel every day. You’re leaving in two days for Sarasota, remember? Henry Connors liked to rehearse in the warm and relatively inexpensive Florida sunshine while the rest of the country braced itself for winter. Rehearsals were scheduled for principals for two weeks and a full orchestra rehearsal for another week after that. Then they all left for Las Vegas, concluding their run on Thanksgiving weekend. She wouldn’t have more than one day without a performance and nothing was going to change that. After Las Vegas she had to come home to complete any studio work that had backed up while she was with Henry.