Summer on Cape May

Chapter Twenty-seven - Natalia

Chapter Twenty-seven

Natalia

N atalia turned up the music—Sinead Harnett’s vocals filled the house. She danced around the kitchen as she prepared the arroz de marisco, a Portuguese seafood rice dish. It was one of her favorites, and Nic’s, too. She shook her booty to the music while rinsing the clams and mussels that she’d found at the seafood market. She peeled onion and chopped garlic. She’d already chilled and opened a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

Cooking made her happy. In fact, she felt as if she’d missed her true calling. She’d taken a few culinary courses as a young woman in Portugal and had dreamed of owning a restaurant or working in the food industry in some capacity, perhaps becoming a renowned chef at one of those five-star hotels or upscale restaurants like Fortaleza do Guincho, a French restaurant that sat on a rocky cliff above the Guincho Beach in Portugal. It had always been one of her favorite restaurants. Working in the culinary industry hadn’t quite worked out for her. Her presence and services were needed at her family’s winery, so she’d come to the States at a young age. Her life was here. She enjoyed cooking, nonetheless, especially for the man she loved.

The first few weeks that Nic was home, she’d prepared a home-cooked meal every night. They’d also taken frequent late-night walks along the beach and made love in just about every room of the house. They’d played music, sipped cognac on the balcony, and talked until the wee hours of the night. It reminded her of the way things used to be before everything went wrong. He was saying all the things she needed to hear, which eased her fears about things that had caused her to be unsettled, put her insecurities to rest.

Her husband had come home, and she was delighted about it. And now she needed him more than ever, considering her best friends were absent from her life. It had been weeks since she’d talked to Lu or Kenya. She hadn’t quite forgiven Lu for the betrayal that nearly destroyed her marriage. She didn’t know if Kenya would ever find it in her heart to forgive her for keeping Glen’s illness a secret. She sighed at the thought and tried to erase it from her mind. It was easier to imagine that it didn’t exist than to face it. She sipped the wine, savored the medley of flavors—the lime green apple, white peach, and passion fruit danced in her mouth.

The past few days, Nic had been working late, arriving home in Cape May well past ten. But today he’d promised to make it home at a decent hour, in time for a nice dinner. Maybe they’d even walk the stretch of the beach, as they’d done so many nights before, or retreat to the balcony for some cognac. Maybe they would even puff on the cigars that she’d picked up at one of the local cigar shops in town. She wasn’t really a sister of the leaf, but she enjoyed an occasional puff with her husband. She went into the dining room. Even though there wasn’t a need to light the jasmine-scented candle as the aroma from the arroz de marisco filled the entire house, but she lit it anyway. She set the dining room table with her grandmother’s stoneware—pieces that had been passed down through the generations. She was never one to pull china out for special occasions only. No, she believed that delicacies should be enjoyed often.

Natalia returned to the kitchen, turned the fire down on the stove, and allowed the food to simmer. She stepped out onto the patio just to feel the Jersey sunshine on her face and breathe in the scent of the fresh saltwater. The wind blew gently as she sipped her wine. She glanced over at Kenya’s deck and wondered if she’d already made it home after fighting the traffic from the city. She wondered if she’d picked up takeout from her favorite Chinese place and was perched on her sofa watching one of her shows. Natalia missed Kenya. Had they been on speaking terms, she’d have invited her over for dinner. Even as mad as she was at Lu, she missed her, too. Their Friday night dinners had been a tradition—an escape, a place of refuge. But now everything was different. The last night they were all together had been explosive. It had changed everything between them.

When she stepped back inside, she heard the chirp from her phone—a text message.

Sweetheart, I’m sorry. Looks like another late night Nic texted.

She typed, Oh no!

I know, I’m sorry. This meeting is running a lot longer than anticipated. I haven’t even left the city yet.

Natalia glanced at her watch. It was already seven thirty.

I cooked arroz de marisco, she typed.

Yum! A woman after my heart and stomach. LOL. Keep it warm for me. I’ll be another hour. Maybe two.

Okay. She added a sad face emoji.

With a huff, she tossed her iPhone onto the countertop, walked into the dining room, and blew out the jasmine candle. She collected the stoneware from the dining table and placed it back into its place in the china cabinet. She grabbed the silverware and headed into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway. In midstride, an idea popped into her head. Instead of waiting for Nic to come home, what if she took dinner to him? They could eat right there in his office at the architectural firm and sip a bottle of wine. If work held him hostage, prevented him from coming to her, she’d go to him—problem solved.

What started as an idea quickly became a full-blown, plan and she began to put it into motion. She pulled out her wicker picnic basket from the top shelf in the pantry, the one that she and Nic used when they frolicked along the beach on Saturday afternoons, or when they drove into Atlantic City for one of the summer concerts. She packed the basket with storage containers filled with shrimp and rice, disposable plates, cutlery, napkins, wineglasses, and a chilled bottle of Riesling. Once Natalia had everything she needed packed into the basket, she rushed upstairs and changed into a pair of flare jeans and a T-shirt. She also slid a pair of embellished sandals onto her feet. She did something with her hair and freshened her lip color. Once back in the kitchen, she grabbed her keys from the nook on the wall and picked up her leather purse. She rushed to the garage, tossed the basket into the back seat, and hopped into her sedan, hoping she had enough gas to make it into the city without having to stop. The odds were in her favor because she’d filled her tank two days before.

She relaxed in the leather bucket seat, drove—no , sped— up Garden State Parkway, all while singing all the words to Beyoncé’s “Cuff It” loudly. She was feeling good. It seemed that her life with Nic was back on track again, and she couldn’t be happier with her home life. He was present in her life again and they were enjoying each other. Though she desperately wanted to try again, she’d decided that she wouldn’t obsess about trying to have a baby. Instead, she would just allow Mother Nature to have her way. They’d been given a second chance and she wouldn’t mess it up, not this time.

The sun had already begun to set over Atlantic City by the time she pulled into the parking lot of Nic’s firm. There were a few cars left in the parking lot but not many. She immediately spotted his gray Audi. In fact, she parked in the spot right next to it. That way, when they left, it would be convenient for her to follow him home or vice versa. She stepped out, reached into the back seat, and grabbed the picnic basket, locked her doors, and headed into the building.

The night security officer buzzed her in as the doors had already been locked to the public.

“Good evening,” he greeted her once she was inside. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Nicolai Oliveri.” She gave him a wide, friendly smile.

“Is he expecting you?”

“He’s not.” She giggled. “I’m his wife. I brought dinner since he’s working late. I’d really like to surprise him.”

“I’m sorry. I will need to check your picnic basket. And I must call him to let him know you’re here. Can’t let you up without his permission.”

“Really?” Natalia poked out her lip. She hadn’t visited Nic’s office in years, and it seemed they’d tightened security since the pandemic. And this officer was new. The others knew her well, knew that she was Nic’s wife.

“Yes. Sorry.” The officer was apologetic.

“Natalia! Is that you?” Ryan Neal, Nic’s old friend and colleague, stepped off the elevator. “What are you doing here?”

“Nic is stuck in the office working late and I wanted to surprise him with dinner. But I’m told I can’t go up without his permission.”

Ryan turned to the officer. “Carl, I’ve got this. I’ll take her up.”

“Okay, I just need to check her purse and her picnic basket,” said Carl.

Natalia opened her purse to give him a view of what was inside. She opened the picnic basket. “It’s just food and wine.”

“Smells wonderful.” Carl gave her a warm smile. “Okay. Go ahead.”

She followed Ryan to the steel-gray elevators. The tail of his dress shirt had already crept from inside his pants, his tie loosened, a tattered briefcase in his hand. It seemed he’d been burning the midnight oil, too.

“How is Val doing? I haven’t seen her in forever.” Natalia filled the silence with small talk as they both stepped into the waiting elevator.

“She’s doing great. She’s working on her master’s right now, trying to juggle that and the kids. Her plate is full.” He was unenergetic and his eyes were puffy underneath. “Mine too.”

“I’ll bet. How many children are there now?”

“We have three. Mallery’s going to middle school this coming year.”

“No!” Natalia exclaimed. “I remember when she was born.”

“They’re growing so fast, Natalia. You wouldn’t recognize her with the purple streaks in her hair and the attitude. Whew!” He blew air out of his mouth. “So much attitude.”

“Teenagers.” Natalia giggled. “Time flies, doesn’t it?”

“It certainly does,” said Ryan as he stopped just short of one of the offices. “Well, there you are. Nic’s office. Looks like he’s still in there.”

“Yes, it does.” Natalia gave Ryan a smile. “Thank you so much. And it was great seeing you. Please give Val my love.”

“I will, Natalia. And it was great seeing you, too.” Ryan headed back toward the elevators.

Natalia walked the few steps toward Nic’s office with the picnic basket in tow. The food was still warm and very fragrant. She turned the knob, opened the door, and stepped inside. From the ceiling-to-floor window she could see that the sun was setting over the Atlantic Ocean. There was such an amazing view from his office. She weaved past the rows of drafting tables and made her way to Nic’s area. She heard his laughter, which she knew very well. He wasn’t alone; someone else was also working late. Then she heard the woman’s giggle. She stopped a few feet short of his area and immediately zeroed in on the brunette who was perched atop his desk. She couldn’t see her face, only the long brown tresses that danced down the length of her back. Nic was facing the woman, his tie loosened, his shirt unbuttoned. He brushed a stray hair from the woman’s face and then gently kissed her lips.

So deeply captivated by each other, neither of them heard Natalia approach. She stood there for a moment, quietly, wanting to just observe; grasp the magnitude of what was going on. Her heart pitter-pattered underneath her T-shirt. She breathed deeply. It was as if she was having an out-of-body experience, or perhaps her eyes were deceiving her. He couldn’t have just kissed another woman’s lips with the same ones that had kissed her goodbye that morning in the shower. Surely she was dreaming. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them again, just to see if she’d been hallucinating. She wasn’t. Her husband— the one who had just told her to keep his dinner warm because he was working late— was still very much there with another woman.

“Nic?” she called to him.

He looked up and saw her, his eyes as round as saucers and a bewildered look on his face. “Natalia?” He moved away from the woman quickly, putting space between them. He tried to button his shirt, adjust his loosened tie, regain his composure. “What are you doing here?”

“I think the question is, what are you doing?” She stood a few feet away for fear of what she might do if she was closer. Her eyes quickly scanned the desks around her, looked for something that could be hurled at him.

The woman slowly turned around to face her, and a pair of soft gray eyes met with Natalia’s, a sly grin on her face.

“Angelina?” Natalia’s eyes narrowed, a frown formed in the center of her forehead. The anger inside of her caused her blood to boil. She wanted to break something, scream, choke the shit out of Nic!

“Natalia, it’s not what you think.” Nic quickly moved away from Angelina, making his way around the desk and closer to her.

“Isn’t it?” Natalia’s breathing changed. Her chest heaved up and down intently, and she no longer trusted herself. “What is she doing here, Nic?”

Angelina hopped down from the desk and walked around to the front of it. She stroked her swollen belly; her baby bump was the size of a small watermelon.

“Hello, Natalia.” Angelina gave her a wicked grin. “It’s so good to see you again.”

Natalia ignored the greeting and instead gave her husband a scornful look. She thought her legs might betray her and give out. She trembled from the thought of it. Instead, they were stuck; she couldn’t force them to move. And she needed her legs to move so that she could escape from this nightmare. Her anger turned to hurt; a sharp pain encompassed her chest. She hoped that Nic would explain what she already knew to be true, but he didn’t. She wanted him to tell her that her eyes had deceived her, that she’d only imagined what she’d seen. Natalia wanted him to tell her that he had not impregnated his child’s mother again . Perhaps it was someone else’s child. But he stood there, speechless—dumbfounded. His eyes begged for her forgiveness, but she wouldn’t give it to him. Not now. Not ever. She would never give it to him for this!

“Natalia,” his voice quivered.

“Fuck you, Nic.” The expletive slipped from her tongue with as much contempt as she could impart. Her legs were finally mobile, and with a huff, she walked briskly from his office, almost ran. She needed to get away from them both as quickly as possible. Natalia wished she didn’t still have the picnic basket in her hand; it was slowing her down.

Nic ran after her, “Natalia. I’m sorry. I don’t really know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. Isn’t that what you just did?” Natalia made it to the elevators, pressed the button, and then turned quickly to face him. “Is that your child?”

He sighed deeply, looked to the ceiling as if the answer was up there.

“All this time, you’re calling me insecure, telling me those letters meant nothing to you. Making me feel as if I’m the one who’s freaking crazy. Blaming me for wanting desperately to have a child, and all the while . . .”

“I didn’t even know until a few days ago.”

“That’s why suddenly the late hours, arriving home at an ungodly hour.” She willed the tears not to fall. She wasn’t going to cry. Not yet. Not in front of him. And certainly not in front of Angelina, the home-wrecker who was now standing in the doorway of Nic’s office, arms folded across her chest, observing her pain. “My God, I feel so stupid! Thinking that we were really making things work. That we had a second chance. We were starting over.”

“I really wanted us to . . . start over.” He reached for Natalia’s hand.

She pulled it away quickly. “Don’t touch me!”

She was grateful that the elevators opened. She stepped in, while he stood there with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks, watching her. Such a pitiful sight , she thought.

“You deserve each other,” she spat out. “Don’t bother coming back to Cape May. I’ll toss your shit into the canal and hope that it somehow floats here to you.”

When the doors shut, she exhaled. At last she was free. Free to allow the tears to flow this time.