Читать книгу Siberian Hearts - James Anderson - Страница 7

The following Saturday, Willie ‘the Hawk’ Hawkins stepped into the ring for the fifth round. It was an informal bout with his best friend at the YMCA downtown. He looked across at Mike Valentine, the sweat on Mike’s broad chest making him look even more powerful, if that was possible. Mike used to be on the SWAT team with Willie until he lost his eardrum. Even if Mike had been hurt, he was still the toughest man Willie ever faced. He was just a stand-up, come-at-you Irishman with granite for muscles and jackhammers for fists. Willie the Hawk loved to fight Mike because it made him improve. Willie could have been a professional heavyweight but instead chose a career in law enforcement. The two men had been friends since they met as kids in Golden Gloves. He had never beaten Mike, but he had never lost to him, either. They were well matched. Very few White men ever gave Willie trouble in the ring. But nobody, Black, White, or any color, had ever given him trouble like Irish Mike Valentine.

The bell rang and they came out and touched gloves. There was never any ego between them - no anger ever surfaced. They were fighters in the ring and friends always. As they started circling each other, Willie threw some jabs and connected on the first one. On the last jab, Mike followed Willie’s left back and countered to his ribs. Then he moved in with a left, right, left, right. Willie rolled away from him. He didn’t want to get into a slugfest with Mike Valentine. He was quicker than Mike, but Mike could out-punch him. Mike could out-punch anybody. He’d seen Mike alternate a hundred push-ups and twenty-five pull-ups four times back to back, skip robe for twenty minutes, and then spar ten three-minute rounds. Nobody was in shape like Irish Mike.

Willie kept circling to his left, knowing that if Mike had a weakness, it was moving to his left. Mike blasted out jabs to stop him. Willie slipped most of them, but the last one connected and rung his bell. Mike sensed weakness and moved in for the kill. Willie tied him up to give himself time for his head to clear.

“You all right?” asked Mike.

“I’m fine, White boy. It ain’t over yet.”

He heard Mike laugh. That was a going joke in the gym, a heavyweight White boy who could really fight.

The referee came in and broke them up. Willie launched a vicious attack straight at Mike. Willie was the quickest man Mike had ever fought, and a solid right hand landed on the side of Mike’s head. Mike buckled a little and Willie increased the pressure, thinking he really had Mike this time. But Mike slipped and countered with a vicious left hand to the body that would have cracked the rib of a lesser man.

The round continued in punishing but controlled techniques. Both men landing punches and both men taking them. When the bell finally rung, they embraced and congratulated each other.

“You just keep getting better, Willie, no matter how old you get.”

“Who you calling old, Valentine? I’m in my prime.”

There was still applause as they left the ring and Greta came running up to Mike. She had asked her father if she could watch her friend box and he had consented. Ludmilla thought it would be too violent for her but Greta talked her into it.

“Mike, Mike, are you hurt?”

He leaned over to her and smiled. “Yes. This mean man beat me up something fierce.”

She smiled, knowing he was teasing. Her parents stood behind her.

Mike stood up. “Rolf and Ludmilla Hermann, this is my best friend and former SWAT lieutenant, Willie Hawkins.”

Willie had his gloves off but his hands were still wrapped. He shook hands anyway.

“These are my neighbors and good friends,” said Mike. He patted Greta gently on the back of her head. “And this is my little buddy, Greta.”

Willie kneeled down and extended his hand. “Hello, Greta. I’ve heard good things about you.”

She smiled. “Are you a real policeman?”

“I am.”

“Wow,” she said. She turned to her parents and said in Russian, “A real American policeman!”

Willie looked confused and Ludmilla laughed and explained. “She is very impressed that you are a real American policeman.”

Rolf spoke. “And I am very impressed with the boxing I just saw. Both of you are exceptional. I boxed at the university but I was nothing like you. It was a pleasure to watch both of you.”

“Thank you,” said Willie. He motioned to Mike. “This is one guy I have never been able to beat.”

Mike smiled. “Oh, I don’t know about that. My body always feels like I get the worst of it.”

“That’s not what my ribs are telling me.”

“Well,” said Ludmilla. “We must take our little Greta home and feed her. And you have a big date tonight with a beautiful lady. So, we will see you tomorrow for Sunday dinner, Mike, Da?”

“I’ll be there. Thanks for coming down.”

They waved and Willie and Mike headed for the locker room. “You have a date tonight?” asked Willie. “How long has this been going on?”

Mike shrugged. “Not long. She’s someone I met at a self-defense seminar.”

“Well, tell me about her. What’s her name?”

“Donna Bertilli. She works as a supervisor at the Department of Motor Vehicles.”

“Really?” said Willie. “Does that mean we don’t have to stand in those long lines now?”

Mike laughed. “Yeah. I’m learning all about registering cars.”

“So, is she pretty?”

“Yeah. She’s very pretty. But, I don’t know, Will, there’s just no bells there. You know what I mean?”

Willie put his arm around his friend. “Give it a chance, Mikey. Maria is a tough act to follow for any woman.”

Mike nodded his head. “I still miss her every second of every minute of every day. I’m still in love with a dead woman, and I don’t think anything can every change that.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Hey, I almost forgot. Linda wanted you to come to dinner tonight. But you got a date. That’s good.”

“Yeah. I know Linda is just pitying me. But thank her anyway.”

“Well, you’re a pitiful guy.’

They showered and dressed, talking about where to take his date that night. Mike was going to take her to that Mexican Restaurant in Rancho Cordova but Willie said no.

“Take her to someplace romantic, someplace classy. No wonder you can’t get any women.”

“I can’t get any women because I’m pitiful. Where should I take her?”

“There’s a great spot in Old Town. My cousin manages the place. In fact, I’ll call right now and set it up.”

Willie took out his cell phone, checked his book, and dialed the number. He leaned over to Mike. “What time tonight?”

“I pick her up at seven.”

Willie made the reservations for seven thirty.

After he did, Mike just sat there. “Geez, buddy, I am pitiful.”

“Ah, it’s not your fault. It’s because you’re Irish. Just keep hanging around with me and some soul is bound to rub off on you.”

Mike looked at his friend. “You know, if it wasn’t for you and my brother, I would have probably put a bullet in my brain after…”

“Hey,” interrupted Willie. “You’re OK. You’re doing fine. You’re rich, you’re cool, you’re the baddest White man alive, and you got me for a friend. You’re doing all right.”

Mike smiled and nodded his head. “I love you, man.”

“I love you, too. Now, let’s get cleaned up. You got a date tonight.”

Mike parked his Tundra in front of Donna’s house. He was scrubbed and brushed and anointed with expensive aftershave and thought he looked OK. He’d even taken his truck in for a wash and detail. He sort of felt he had a coolness responsibility with Donna, or should at least attempt as much suave as he could muster or buy. He was ready.

As he rang the doorbell, Donna opened the door with a cell phone in her ear and moved to the side to let him in. As he moved past her, she reached her lips up to be kissed. He kissed her and she touched his cheek and smiled.

“No, Mother, I can’t talk to Dad now. I’m going out.”

(Listen)

“Yes. With the man I told you about.”

(Listen – smiling at Mike)

“I don’t know Mother. It’s still too early. But I think so.”

(Listen)

“OK. I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon.”

(Listen)

“Good bye, Mother. Give my love to dad.”

Mike looked around at her small but tastefully furnished apartment, again wondering if this was a good idea. His eyes shifted to Donna.

She closed her cell phone and put it in her purse. Then, walking over to him, she put her arms around him and kissed him passionately, grinding herself into him. It surprised him. Stepping back, she smiled and handed him her coat.

“I’m ready, you hunk of burning man love.”

He helped her with her coat and opened the door for her.

“How did it go today?” she asked.

“It went fine. We did a five round exhibition match and both of us are still standing.”

He opened the truck door for her as she put on gloves. “You didn’t hurt anything I’ll need later, did you?” She was in a good mood and extremely confident in herself.

He closed the door and walked around to his side. He knew exactly what she meant. Oh, boy, he thought as he started the engine.

She slid over and sat next to him. “Have you been thinking about me?”

“Yeah. I have,” he said as he pulled away from the curb. It was obvious to him that she was more serious about this than he was.

“You didn’t say that with enough conviction. Now I’m hurt.”

He looked at her and smiled. He really did have fun with her. “OK. I can’t think of anything but you.”

She laughed and looked away. “Bastard,” she said. She put her hand on his leg and said, “Where are we going?”

“My buddy suggested that new place in Old Town, the Hound and Bull.”

“Really? I’ve heard that’s good. Excellent. You always take me to nice places. Well, most of the time, anyway.”

“My buddy says I’m pitiful and no wonder I can’t get any women.”

“Not true, baby.” She reached over and kissed his cheek and let her gloved hand slide quickly over his groin. “You got me.”

He was instantly hard and hated the reaction. He tried to will it to go away but of course it refused. He didn’t want Donna to notice it so he asked a question. She loved to talk.

“How are your parents?’

That got her started. She talked about her mother’s kidney problems and her father’s arthritis and about how they always argue about what programs to watch. Donna seemed like a nice lady - attractive and intelligent, but there just wasn’t enough attraction there for Mike to take her seriously.

He remembered when he first saw Maria and how he immediately knew he was going to marry her.

She was a hostess at a Mexican Restaurant in South Sacramento. He and a couple of his cop friends went in for lunch. They were in uniforms and looked very official in their uniforms, guns, badges, and radios hanging off of them.

He remembered how he instantly fell for her. There she was: her white Mexican blouse with blue embroidery contrasting against her exceptionally dark skin, her thick, dark hair cascading over her shoulders, the curves of her peasant skirt holding promise. Mike was completely taken at the first sight of her. And when she said, “Welcome, senors,” he was hooked, a goner, smitten, and cooked. She seated them and Mike thanked her. She smiled at him and it took his breath away. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

The next day, he asked a Hispanic cop buddy what he should do. He sent flowers to the restaurant with a note saying, ‘From the gringo cop with the blue eyes.’ She immediately knew who the flowers were from. She had noticed him, too, and had noticed him noticing her.

He went back the following day and she thanked him for the flowers in her wonderful accent and smiled the sweetest smile he had ever seen.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Michael Patrick Valentine,” he said. He asked hers.

“Maria Guadeloupe Garcia-Martinez.”

She asked how old he was and he said twenty-four. He asked how old she was and she said twenty-five. She asked if he had a girlfriend and he said he had a beautiful Mexican girl who worked in a restaurant in mind. He asked if she had a boyfriend and she said she was waiting for a big gringo cop with blue eyes.

They dated for three months before he asked her to marry him. It was all right with her family. He seemed like a good man and would take care of her. Besides, it would be good to have a cop in the family.

They were married in a Catholic Church by a Hispanic priest. He didn’t care. He wasn’t religious. He would do whatever she wanted. They waited until they were married to make love. He was not a virgin but she was. He tried to be as gentle and caring as he could because he loved this girl with all his heart. She responded and tried to please him. She had no idea that she was supposed to enjoy their love making, too. She was just inexperienced.

They spent time at both families and split holidays so that neither family felt neglected. Both families were completely accepting. Mike was even learning to speak Spanish. He loved to please her and their lovemaking was something sacred to him. He could never imagine it with anyone else.

Now he was in his truck with a woman sitting next to him and it felt like he was being unfaithful. He was lonely but he was lonely for Maria, for the dead woman he still loved. He missed her and his little girl desperately. In his mind, whatever he hit and whoever he fought was the truck driver who took his loves because that asshole couldn’t go a day without drinking.

A few times after their death, Mike went looking for fights, but looking down at bloodied and broken men after a moment’s altercation only made him feel worse. Hurting people for no real reason was not who he was. When he finally realized there was nothing he could do to kill the aching loneliness, he settled on a defensive strategy: he prepared and trained and taught others, hoping that what he did would somehow lessen the suffering of others.

“Mike, are you listening to me?”

He jerked back to reality. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said we are having dinner at my parents next Saturday night.”

“Oh. OK. That’s fine.”

“Did you hear anything I said?”

“Of course I did,” he lied. “It’s just that sometimes I can’t hear even out of my good ear because of being around all those weapons in the infantry.”

She looked at him and shook her head. “I smell baloney.”

He pulled into the parking lot in Old Town and took the ticket from the meter. He parked and got out and opened the door for her. She really was a pretty woman.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Maybe I was drifting a little.”

She smiled and patted his cheek. “Just don’t drift too far from me.”

She took his arm and they started walking to the restaurant.

Mike opened the door to the restaurant and they were met by a handsome Black man looking at a computer screen.

“May I help you?”

“Yes. I have reservations for two. My name is Valentine.”

“Great,” he said. “You’re Willie’s friend. I’m Alan Baker, his cousin.”

Mike smiled and shook his hand. “This is Donna.”

“Hello, Donna, and welcome.”

The food was excellent and the atmosphere was wonderful. He told her about his childhood - his father was second generation from Ireland and his mother’s parents were straight out of the Scottish Highlands. In fact, she still spoke with a Scottish lilt.

She said her father’s family was from Naples but her mother’s family was from Sicily. She admitted it was a volatile combination.

After dinner, she suggested that he show her his house since she had never seen it. He agreed and, when they arrived, she whistled. “Wow, Mike, this is beautiful.”

“Thanks. I like it.”

He was forever forgetting to lock his truck and this time was no exception. Since this was the first time he brought a woman at his house, he was nervous so he even left his keys in his truck. As he led her through the arches, she said, “Very nice.”

He checked his pocket. “I left my keys in my truck.” He started back to get them but then remembered it was cold. “Just a minute,” he said, and reached down in a large flowerpot by the door and pulled out a spare key. “Go in where it’s warm and I’ll get my keys. As she entered the house, she whistled again. Mike was back in less than a minute.

“I love this house,” she said.

“I’m still working on decorating it. My neighbor next door is helping me.” He was proud of what had been done so far. Ludmilla had picked out colors and furniture for the whole house. He thought it was beautiful. He tried painting the walls himself but it took too much time away from training so he asked Jason to recommend a painting contractor and had the whole house done at one time.

“I don’t really like the colors you have in here. They’re too subdued.”

He was helping her off with her coat. “Really? I like the colors.”

“Oh, no,” she said, smiling. “Our first argument.”

He hung up her coat and said, “Would you like a tour?”

“Yes, please. And make sure we end up in the bedroom.”

He looked at her and she smiled. He showed her the rest of the house and the back yard. She was truly impressed. She held onto his arm as he explained everything.

As she walked into the master bedroom, she said, “I could really do something with this.” She continued looking around. “Oh, good, you have a stereo in here.” He did. He liked listening to Celtic music at night. It relaxed him. “Wait here,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

She was back in two minutes with a CD. She pushed him to the end of the bed and made him sit down. “Just relax, cowboy, and enjoy. I’ve wanted to do this for you since I first saw you.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Call it cultural enrichment.” She walked over to the stereo and put in a Journey CD. Driving guitars and the strong made-for-rock voice of Steve Perry filled the room. Donna started to sway in an extremely provocative manner. As she danced, he could tell she had practice. It was just the right amount of movement between classy and vulgar. Steve and the boys cranked out the sound.

It’s tearing me apart

Every-every-every da-ee-yea

It’s tearing me apart

Oh, girl what can I say

As she swayed, she pulled her sweater up over her head, revealing a flat, hard stomach and large round breasts encased in a black, lacy bra. She threw her sweater over the back of a chair and skipped forward until she was directly in front. He thought, how the hell did she do that on those high heels? Then she lifted her skirt up, revealing thigh stockings and a garter belt, but no panties. “I’ve been planning this, Michael. I’m going to convince you that you can’t live without me.”

Mike’s eyes were glued to her. He wasn’t sure what to do. She was very sexy but he could live without her - that was the problem. What she was doing here was no more to him than a strip show at a juice bar. But, it was a very good strip show at a very nice bar.

As she continued to dance, she took off her skirt. Her black pubic hair reminded him of Maria’s, which only helped to convince him that he really shouldn’t be doing this. But he hadn’t been with a woman since Maria died and his eyes were started to float. Maybe he should just let this play out just for the sake of having sex. What difference did it make? But, as soon as he thought that, he knew he couldn’t let it happen.

She reached behind her back, unhooked her bra, and let it fall forward, showing perfect breasts. She turned around and, still swaying, spread her legs and bent over at the waist. She’d obviously practiced this. She looked back at him between her legs and licked her lips. This is weird, though Mike. But that didn’t stop him from being hard. Damn it, he thought. You ain’t helping the situation any.

She stood up and faced him. Then she walked forward and knelt before him. Her hands moved over his crotch and felt the huge bulge.

“Oh,” she said, “just what I’ve been wanting, dessert.”

She undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants. Then she undid his fly and took him out. His was like a rock now and she began her ministrations.

He just looked at her. It had been so long.

After a few seconds, she stopped. “If we get married, or even if we live together, I will do this all the time.” She didn’t think she was pushing too hard. Her confidence was high and this fool was so ripe.

Live together? he thought, where the hell did that come from? This was getting way out of hand and he had to tell her how he felt. He was too honest not to. “Donna,” he said, “before we go any further. I need to tell you something.”

Lifting her head, she said, “What is it, baby?”

“Donna, I’m not ready to talk about marriage, or even living together. You need to understand.” He took a deep breath to fight his desire to let her continue. “You’re moving too fast for me.”

Then she made her first big mistake - she let her emotions talk instead of her head.

“You bastard!”

“Donna, “

“You let me do this and I’m moving too fast?”

“I’m sorry, Donna. It’s just that it’s been so long. I didn’t know…”

She was livid – a true woman scorned. She didn’t realize it, but her whole paradigm of beliefs had just been accosted; it was as if someone had just profaned her religion. She was instantly up and getting dressed.

“Take me home, you prick. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

Donna took her clothes in the bathroom and dressed. After a minute she came out, looking as upset as a person could possibly be.

“Donna,” he said, “I never said I didn’t want to be with you, I only said I felt like we’re moving too fast.”

“Just shut your dumb Irish mouth and take me home.”

He followed her outside and opened the truck door for her. She got in and sat as far away from him as she possibly could.

Mike backed out of the driveway and started what he felt would be one of the longest drives of his life. After a few minutes, her anger subsided enough for her to begin thinking clearly again. She was so sure she had him. He just surprised her too much, that’s all. She had never in her wildest dreams thought any man would ever tell her no. And, when the possible ramifications of the mistake began to sink in, she knew she could have handled it much better. She turned to him, knowing she had to start mending things immediately. “Mike, how can you possibly not see that we’re perfect for each other?”

“I don’t know that we’re not. But it’s just that…well…”

She held up her hands. “Well, what?”

He pulled over and parked. After turning to her, he said, “I loved my wife beyond all reason. We had a wonderful marriage and an even better sex life. On one level tonight, I felt like I was being unfaithful to her, even though she’s been dead for almost two years. Believe me, Donna, I wanted to. You’re a beautiful woman. But I want you to understand that this is going to take time for me. It just is. I can’t let you do something like that when I think there might be a misunderstanding.”

Donna smiled to herself. This could easily be fixed. It might even turn out better than before. “Mike,” she said softly. “When it’s right, it’s right.”

“Agreed. And this may be right. I just need to go one step at a time.”

She unbuckled her seat belt and slid over to him. She put her arm around him and said, “Mike, it’s been almost two years. You need to let her go. Let me help you, baby. I really like you. Trust me.”

He pulled onto the street again, thinking about what she said. She was right, but he couldn’t do it - he just couldn’t let Maria go. He still compared every woman he met with Maria, and they were all found wanting, even this one.

As he was driving, Donna put her other hand on his leg. “Mike? Are you there, Mike?”

He nodded his head. “I’m here.”

“You need to let her go.”

He didn’t want to talk. If he talked, he would cry. He didn’t want to do that.

“Mike? Are you listening?”

He shook his head and kept his eyes on the road. “Hard to do,” was all he could get out.

She got up on her knees facing him and kissed his neck. Then he felt her tongue in his ear and her hand on his crotch. “I can help you let her go, baby,” she whispered. “I only want you thinking about me.”

But he couldn’t let her go. He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Just when he said that, he pulled up in front of her house. She sat down on the seat again. What was up with this asshole? She had honestly believed there wasn’t a man alive who could resist her. She felt the type of anger a mother feels when her baby is being threatened.

“Fine,” she said. “When you finally get your head out of your ass, maybe we’ll talk.”

“Let me get the door for you.”

“Don’t bother about me. You obviously have other things on your mind.” She got out and slammed the door. He watched her walk quickly up to her house and go inside. She never looked back at him.

When he got back to his house, he stood in front of the fireplace staring at Maria’s picture for a long, long time until, involuntarily, he doubled up like he had been shot. He fell sobbing to his hands and knees and all he could say between the sobs was “Maria.”