Noemi

by

Katia N. Ruiz

CHAPTER TWO

The Leone's home, a large Tudor styled structure in Forest Hills Inn's private residential area, sat quite away from Queens Boulevard. The area was quiet, relaxing, and Noemí loved it. She lived not far off, her own house stylish and beautiful, large and incredibly lonely. She spent most of her free time with her parents, trying to run away from her solitude. Tonight, she didn't even go home to change; she went directly over to see them.

She presently sat with her parents at the dinner table, tended upon by their single maid, who occasionally traded friendly comments with her mother. One of the many things that Noemí learned from her parents was to respect the people who worked so hard to please them. René had been with them before Noemí was even born, and she had cared for little baby Noemí as she grew up almost too fast for her. She had even suggested her name when she was born and Natalie had loved it.

When René left them alone to go have her own dinner, Noemí decided to take the plunge. "Dad, mom," she said in her quiet voice. Both her parents looked up at her from their plates. She sighed and studied them as she said: "We need to talk."

Her father, a giant of a man, all muscle and tender burliness, stared at her with blue eyes that held a liveliness that hers lacked. She had inherited those incredible colored eyes from him. Thomas Leone had a thick head of white hair, a white goatee that gave his handsome face additional attractiveness. His eyes were warmer than hers were; and though he never said a thing, he felt sad that her eyes didn't hold the warmth they used to any longer.

She had gone through so much, and her parents knew it. And for that reason they always tried to make her feel comfortable, and always treated her like their princess that she was. They thought of her that way even though the term princess did not fit her in any way, save for the emotional needs that she had. He smiled tenderly and indulgently at her, all the love in the world in his eyes; she responded with a semblance of a smile.

She looked at her mother, Natalie Leone, who looked so beautiful and delicate, who looked so young despite her age, and whom everyone loved with deep admiration. She was always dreaming about having grandchildren, not caring that she was considered too young to have grandchildren already. Well, mom, Noemí thought with heavy irony, you just might get your wish. Younger than Thomas by almost ten years, she had Noemí at the very young age of eighteen. She had bright green eyes, the eyes that gave Anthony's the greenish hue to his blue. Her soft features were chiseled into her pretty, oval face; her dark red hair fell gently in waves all around her face. "What is it that you need to talk to us about, sweetie?" she voiced their curiosity as her father sat forward in silent agreement to his wife's question.

Noemí sighed again, and stared down at her plate, which she hardly touched. She grabbed the napkin from her lap and threw it over her plate. "Can we talk away from the table?" she asked, and her parents stood up, their appetite also gone in their worry.

"What is going on, Noemí?" Natalie asked, her voice growing afraid.

Noemí walked away from them, and with a glance at each other, they followed her down the long hall and into Thomas' study. She was standing by the window when they walked in, a hand in her slack pockets, the other playing with her keys. She turned to them and met their eyes for a long moment. Finally, she sighed once more and bit her lower lip. "Anthony is not hurt or anything, mom, don't worry," she began, and watched as her mother sighed with relief. Her face then hardened as the anger rushed through her once again. "But this has to do with him, and he may be hurt when I get my hands on him," she continued stiffly, and her parents were surprised by her anger.

"What are you talking about?" Thomas demanded. Sitting behind his desk, he gestured to his daughter to sit, but she shook her head. Natalie sat on a chair next to the desk and waited for their daughter to answer.

Noemí shook her head and flushed as she remembered her encounter with Terri that afternoon. She glanced down at the back of her hand, which had been bandaged by a very curious René, and then she touched her aching jaw. "This afternoon, I received a visit from a friend of Anthony's. A female friend…" she said pointedly and wasted no time. "She claims she is pregnant with his child."

"What?" Both Thomas and Natalie yelled at the same time. "Pregnant?" Thomas repeated, standing up. He ran a hand through his mass of wavy hair, and threw his head back, staring at the ceiling. He always knew something like this would happen, if his son continued with his irresponsible dalliances with young women. "Jesus!" He breathed. Then he looked at his daughter for a long time; she stared at the dark fireplace, seemingly detached, but he knew her well enough to know that she was thinking hard on the situation and feeling livid. "She could be lying, Noemí." He looked at his wife, who was staring at their daughter with wide, shocked eyes.

Noemí shrugged, and bounced the keys in her hand. "She could be, but not about being pregnant. We, uh, had a little altercation this afternoon," she explained in her carefully controlled voice, looking uncomfortable. "I had to restrain her from leaving, and I felt her stomach. She's pregnant alright." She cleared her throat, uncomfortable; she never thought she'd be the one giving their parents this news. "And I seriously don't think she is lying when she says she's slept with him, dad."

She veered him off his next question, when she saw his mouth start to move. "She knows about the scar from the hernia, says he showed her." She glanced at her mother and cleared her throat uncomfortably. "She knows about the birth mark right above his-" She cleared her throat again and gestured downward with her eyes, to let them know where she meant; her mother's expression confirmed the truth; Natalie's face had lost a little color at that revelation. "And she knows he shaves down there." She looks at her father again, who clenched his fist with recognition, and slammed it down on the desk, making everything rattle.

"Damn it, Anthony!" he growled, and his skin flushed in anger. He calmed down after taking several deep breaths and looked at his daughter with a flicker of hope. "There could have been other men, Noe," he said, using his nickname for her.

"Yes, that could be," Natalie agreed eagerly, sitting up, her eyes full of tears, and Noemí thought, hope that this wasn't so. She wants a grandchild so badly, Noemí thought to herself, she really doesn't care how she gets it. "She could be trying to get to our money, Noemí."

Noemí nodded in assent of what could be true. She surprised them by chuckling as she remembered her altercation with the stubborn woman. No one had stirred such amusement in her for a long time. "Well, when I suggested that she might have been with other men, she practically ate me alive. She stormed out of the office, and I, of course, dragged her back in." For a minute she sounded indignant at practically having a physical altercation in her place of work, but then she brushed the feeling away.

Noemí continued. "I don't like being left with the word in my mouth, and it seems she's good at that. She told me I have no sense, that our money is the last thing she wanted, when I offered her an amount. She called me an asshole, pardon me, mother." Natalie waved away the apology. "She then added to it and said I was a bigger asshole than my brother is. What else?" She stopped and watched her parents laugh despite themselves. She fingered her bruised jaw.

Thomas sobered up and looked at her seriously. "Did she say anything about money?" he asked, and took a deep breath.

Noemí smiled wryly. She replied with an amused expression: "I think she is telling the truth when she says that she doesn't want our money for her. I think she just wants Anthony to be responsible, and her baby to be comfortable. I offered her, asked her how much money she wanted and she tried to leave again. Somehow, I don't think that's what she was expecting." She blushed and didn't say anything for a long moment. "I did something very stupid, though. Which I'm sure makes me seem like a very bad person in her eyes."

"What did you do?" Thomas asked, sitting back down, resting against his large chair.

"I asked her if she wanted an abortion," Noemí confessed softly.

Natalie gasped, clearly ashamed that her daughter had thought of such a vile thing. Noemí better than anyone knew what it felt to loose an expected baby. "Noemí!" she said in admonishing tone. Thomas shook his head and stared at her.

"I know, I know," Noemí said, lifting a hand and stopping them from saying anything more. "And trust me, that got me a hard-earned fist on my face." She rubbed her sore jaw, and grimaced.

Thomas and Natalie were flabbergasted. "She hit you?" Natalie asked, a slender hand at the base of her neck.

Noemí nodded slowly, blushing wildly. "Oh, yes, she hit me," she said. "A real good one. She should have been a boxer."

Thomas chuckled softly, despite himself. "Good for her, you shouldn't have said that to her. I was wondering where you got that bruise. I just thought a nice young woman might have gotten out of hand with you," he teased.

Noemí couldn't help herself, a smile almost escaped, but she cut it off with her self-assured control. She knew her father wished she'd move on and find the right woman, but she knew there was no perfect woman for her anymore. "Dad, she's crude, she's indecent," she said indignantly. She shook her head and looked at the floor. "And she lives in the most rotten of places. If that is Anthony's child, dad - if that is my niece, or my nephew, I don't want her living where she lives now."

Thomas nodded and looked his daughter over closely. "I understand, darling," he said softly, feeling the same way she did. Noemí didn't have to describe Terri's place of habitat, he could imagine by the look on her face. He drew a deep breath, and looked at his wife. "I think your mother thinks like me when I say that I want to meet this young woman." Natalie nodded in agreement. "When can you bring her here?"

Surprised, Noemí cleared her throat once again and stared at them. "I think," she said slowly. "We need to talk to Anthony first, see how much of this is true. At least we know he slept with her, and we know that there is a possibility that he is the father of the child."

Thomas sat back on his chair and nodded again, drawing the corner of his lips down in thought. He opened his middle drawer and pulled out a thick brown book. He leafed through it, and stopped at a page almost in the middle. "Ah," he said, and reached for the phone, pulling it towards himself. His finger lingered by the speaker button, and he looked up at Natalie and Noemí. "He's at the timeshare in Aruba." The dial tone made its sound, and he dialed.

"Hello?" The loud sound of background music almost drowned out the sound of Anthony's bass voice. "Hello?" He said again, louder. The three could hear the laughter of a woman from somewhere beside him.

"Anthony!" Thomas said loudly, the music died suddenly and they could hear Anthony quieting the woman who accompanied him on his trip.

"Dad?" he said, in a suddenly young voice. "What is it? Is everything okay?"

Thomas laughed humorlessly, and said in a barking voice. "Oh, yes, Anthony, everything is alright! We might have to clean up the mess you left behind, but all is perfect!" His cheeks were flushing in his anger. Into the uncomfortable silence from Anthony's side of the line, Thomas said: "We need to ask you a few questions, Anthony."

"Yes, dad?" Anthony said, trying to sound very innocent.

Thomas gestured to Noemí with a hand, directing her towards the phone.

"Anthony," Noemí said, leaning sideways against the desk.

"Who- Noemí?" Anthony asked loudly. "Noemí, is that you?"

"Yes, Anthony, it is Noemí." Noemí responded. She decided to cut through the chase. "Who is Terri Bledsoe?" she asked in an even voice.

"Te- uh, Terri?" Anthony stuttered, and then sputtered into silence. "Bledsoe? I don't know this Terri."

Noemí shook her head and looked at her father sadly. "Are you sure you don't know who Terri Bledsoe is?" she asked him, taking a deep breath. Barely restrained fury stormed through her when he didn't answer and her voice rose. "Terri is that young woman that you have been tinkering with, Anthony. Remember her now?"

The voice of his female companion broke through, and they could hear him telling her to quiet down. "So?" he said into the phone, having gotten his bearings. "What about her?"

Noemí glared at the phone as if wishing she could reach through the lines and grab him by his thick neck. "What about her?" she asked loudly. "What about her? She's pregnant, Anthony, with what may possibly be your child, of all things!" Her face grew red with anger. "You're irresponsible. It's unbelievable, you're twenty-three years old, you act like a child, you can't even keep your dick in your-"

Anthony cut her off. "Well look at you," Anthony spat into the phone, angry himself now. "You're a hard-ass, you can't even have fun, it's like you have a stick up your ass!" He huffed, his breath audible through the speaker. "Anal retentive-"

"Enough, Anthony!" Thomas roared into his barrage of insults. "You come home right this minute, Anthony. We have a lot to talk about," he said and paused meaningfully. "Like marriage."

Noemí stared at her father, surprised. She mouthed in bewilderment: "Marriage?"

"Marriage!" Anthony screamed into the mouthpiece. "No, no, no!" he said, panicking, and dropped the phone. They could hear a sound like the phone was being thrown around, and then Anthony screaming at his companion. "Shut up, shut up! Don't you see this is serious, you stupid bitch?" And then he picked up the phone and spoke. "I am not getting married to her. I've never even slept with her, dad; we're just friends. I swear!"

"Anthony, she knows about that little tiny scar that you're so proud off." Noemí said in a growl. "That little scar you like showing off to the world like it's a trophy, I don't know why. She knew you even shave your balls, Anthony, damn you! She knows every little detail about your fucking genitals! What did you do, make her admire you before you made her suck you off?" She breathed hard in her anger and waited for him to answer her.

Anthony remained quiet. "Look, for all I know, she's slept with every man in her goddamn neighborhood." He tried another tactic. "You should see where she lives, dad!"

"As a matter of fact, Anthony," Noemí said sarcastically. "I've seen where she lives. And you didn't care about it when you were fucking her. Excuse me, mom,." she said to her mother, who nodded forgivingly. "Was she a virgin, Anthony? Isn't there a way for you to know?"

"What? How am I supposed to know that, Noemí?" Anthony yelled into the mouthpiece.

Noemí leaned heavily against the desk again and closed her eyes. "Did she bleed, Tony?" she asked tightly, knowing that it did not always mean virginity, but knowing also that most virgins bleed the first time. "Did it hurt her, Tony? She's very vocal, I'm sure she let you know it hurt. So did she bleed a lot, Anthony? Was she bleeding after you were done?"

Thomas and Natalie remained expectantly quiet, listening to their interaction, not even paying attention to their children's use of profanity with each other. They waited for his answer. When he took too long to answer, Thomas lost his patience. He roared and slammed the desk angrily. "Well?"

"Uh," Anthony finally stuttered. "It hurt her, and she bled, dad," he admitted softly.

"Goddamn it, Anthony!" Noemí yelled.

Anthony rushed on. "But she could have been with other men, Noemí! Don't be so quick to put me as the father of that kid!"

"You seduced her, she was innocent, Anthony. You made her trust you, and took advantage of her when she was drunk. I've seen you at work; I know what you're like when you want something." She slapped her father's desk and met her father's eyes. "I don't know about that marriage thing, dad, that girl deserves better. We can help her."

"I think it is better if Anthony takes responsibility for his actions and marries her, Noemí," Thomas argued in a low voice.

"Shit!" Anthony muttered, and they could hear the young woman asking him what the hell was going on. "Shut the fuck up, bitch!" He hollered at her, and they hear a scuffling sound, and her yelling back at him. He dropped the phone again and continued to yell at her. "Shut the fuck up, you stupid woman! Can't you see this is important?"

"Fuck you!" They heard her shriek, and then there was the sound of a door slamming somewhere in the house.

Noemí took a deep breath, and closed her eyes, straightening her back and leaning against the desk with her hands. Anthony came back to the phone and picked it up. "Hello?" he said.

"Yes, Anthony," Noemí answered. "Now tell me, why did you leave so abruptly like that? If you had nothing to run away from, why did you run, why did you shut your beeper off?"

"Fuck you, Noemí; it's none of your goddamn business," he breathed into the phone angrily.

"It is," Noemí countered. "When she shows up at my office and fucking tells me that my brother got her drunk and fucked her."

"Fucking bitch!" Anthony yelled. "She got drunk on her own, what is she talking about?"

"And you didn't stop her, did you?" Thomas demanded. "And you didn't think of taking her home and tucking her safely into her bed, without taking advantage of the situation."

"Are you accusing me of raping her, dad?" Anthony sounded hurt.

"Of course not, Anthony!" Noemí snapped. "She so much admitted at being a fool and falling for your bullshit. She trusted you, even after that first time, Anthony. But the question is, did you use protection?"

"Hell yes, we used protection. I made sure she was taking her pills before anything happened," Anthony replied stupidly.

"But you didn't use a condom?" Natalie asked, her voice was incredulous.

"No, mom, the pill should be good enough. Besides, condoms are uncomfortable." Anthony answered as if that made all the sense in the world.

"Do you know about STD's, Anthony? About AIDS?" Thomas demanded; Anthony didn't answer. "Do you know how you were conceived, Anthony?" Thomas asked him. "Your mother was taking the pill, Anthony, for three years after Noemí was born. You came out of nowhere, Anthony."

Anthony was shocked into silence. "You didn't want me?" he asked, sounding like a dejected ten-year-old.

Thomas sighed. My son is an incompetent idiot, Thomas thought with sadness. "I mean that you were an unexpected arrival, and that is why we loved you so much as you were growing up, because you made your way through that obstacle, and you came along. That is why we spoiled you rotten, and you basically did what you wanted," Thomas said. "And now you need to come back home so that we can talk about marriage."

"What?" Anthony yelled into the phone. "Oh no, not me. I'm not marrying her, dad, I mean it."

Thomas rested his forehead against the heel of his hand; he didn't see the disagreeing expression on Noemí's face. "Then you can forget about our monetary support, Anthony," he said softly. "You get yourself a job and take care of yourself."

Anthony remained silent for a long time. "Fine," he said suddenly. "Fine then, you remember that little inheritance Uncle Theodore left for me when he passed away? You know the one that says that once I turn twenty-one, I can claim it? And I never claimed it, dad. I'm twenty-three now, dad," he said pointedly.

Noemí shook her head at her father, her eyes angry. Thomas met her eyes. "Yes, son, I remember," he said despite her silent warning. If his son wanted his part from his Uncle's inheritance, which was safely nestled in a capital growth fund, there was nothing much he could do to stop him. But he'd be damned if he'd give Anthony any more money to be a lazy bastard with.

Anthony sounded very sure of himself, very pompous. "Very well, then, you can put it in my account, dad. All of it, buy from me the stock that you invested in for me with that money too, while you're at it-"

"You're making a serious mistake, Anthony," Noemí said loudly, rolling her eyes and staring up at the ceiling. "Because you can't take responsibility, because you know she was a virgin before you came along. And because you know you've been the only one, right? "

Anthony remained quiet for a long time, breathing hard into the line. Then he said venomously: "Shut the fuck up, Noemí, this is all because of you." Noemí stared at her father in exasperation, and she made a nasty finger gesture to the phone.

"You are an asshole, Anthony," she said to him. "She was right, you are an asshole. And I'm a bigger one, because I always got you out of trouble, and I never told dad or mom." From the corners of her eyes, she could see the question in her parents' eyes. "But this is too much, Anthony, you ungrateful bastard, this is too much. This deals with a life, no, two lives. You ruined hers, and you might as well have ruined that unborn child's." She stopped and breathed hard in her anger. She went on without thinking: "I bet you mom and dad didn't even get an inkling of when you got arrested, Anthony. Did they? And because of whom-"

Anthony sputtered into the phone again, clearly surprised at Noemí's revelation of that time a few months back. "You bitch-"

Thomas and Natalie were suitably shocked, and they stared at their daughter, silently demanding more information.

"Oh yeah," Noemí said loudly, so that Anthony could hear everything. "And you know why he got arrested, dad? Coke. He had cocaine in his possession, and was acting the vandal in a very respectable bar. Oh, I had to pay them all off, so they wouldn't say a word to you." She laughed humorlessly; she ignored her mother's gasps. "Can you believe it? He calls me in the middle of the night from Central Booking, because they didn't give a flying fuck about whose son he was. And you know whom I had to call a three o'clock in the morning, just so that they wouldn't give him three years in prison for possession of narcotics? You know whom? My very dear best friend, the police commissioner's daughter, Victoria Terrence."

"You fucking-"

"Enough!" Thomas roared, and slammed the desk with his large fist; he glared at his daughter for cursing in that way in front of her mother. Noemí looked at the floor and shoved her hands in her pockets, feeling chastised, as if she were a child again. Anthony shut up. "Anthony," Thomas said in his calm voice again. They would discuss the arrest later. "You don't want to take responsibility for that child?"

"It's not mine, dad," he said, not sounding so sure himself.

"You're a liar, Anthony," Noemí said. "You know you were the only one."

"Listen, you stupid bit-" Anthony began to say, but Thomas was having none of it.

"I said enough!" he yelled again, and then he sat back and closed his eyes, leaning his head on the back of his chair. Natalie stood from her perch and walked around the large desk, moving to her husband's side. He took her hand and kissed it softly. "You understand that I must do this, Natalie." She nodded down at him and smiled reassuringly, her eyes watering. He took a deep breath. "Son," he said towards the phone.

"Yes, dad?" Anthony said, sounding nervous.

"From this exact moment, I am stopping the allowance that I usually have Noemí put into your account. I'm putting your uncle's inheritance in there, and you will manage your money by yourself. You will not go to Noemí for help, and from the condemnable way you just behaved towards your sister, I doubt that she'll help you." Noemí frowned and assured him with her eyes that she wouldn't. "Just because you slept with her, there is the possibility that the child in her womb is yours. That money that we're not putting in your account, we'll be using to help her, at least until the child is born, when we'll be able to find out if that baby is a true Leone or not. I will contact you when I have the money in your name." He moved forward to reach the speaker button.

"Dad, listen-" Anthony began to say, but Thomas cut the line, sitting back and closing his eyes.

Noemí looked down at the desk, and then she turned away, shoving her hands into her pockets and moving to the window. "It is for his best interest, Natalie," Thomas said to his wife, who was now sitting on his lap, her arms around his neck holding him tightly. "He needs to learn to take responsibility for his actions."

"But honey, we can't force him to marry her if he doesn't love her," Natalie said softly.

"She is right, dad," Noemí said over her shoulder. "He will make her unhappy if he accepts to marry her just because he knows he's cut loose out there."

"I know what I'm doing," Thomas said, and remained quiet as he stroked his wife's beautiful hair.

Anthony stared at the phone in his hand, listening to the dial tone for a long moment. They hung up on me! He thought in bewilderment, not yet grasping the enormity of his situation. He was more pissed that they were ready to just dump him over some girl they couldn't be sure was telling the truth. Damn Terri! With a growl, his anger revving up, he threw the phone across the room into a wall. "That bitch!" He yelled.

He stalked towards the bedroom, finding his companion for the time being lying on the bed relaxing. He'd been taken in by her legs and hair, definitely. He had a thing for great legs and nice looking hair; it had been what had attracted him to Terri in the first place. His companion's personality couldn't have been what had attracted him to her; she had some nerve, getting stupid with him while he was talking to his family on the phone. He stared at her with his upper lip curled, and she stared back at him with a bored expression. "I hate my family," he said after a moment.

The woman stared at her long nails and rolled chocolate brown eyes. "Why?" She asked in a bored British accent, sure she didn't want to know.

Anthony began to pace the room, cracking the knuckles of each hand. "They just disowned me!" He sounded disbelieving.

The woman's eyes followed him up and down his trail. She had thought he was so cute and charming when she met him, but now she was simply bored with him. If it weren't for the luxuries he was offering during his stay in Aruba, she would have been out of there that first morning she woke up next to him. Their arrangement meant she was saving her own vacation money, but he was a bloody lousy lay; he did not care at all about her necessities.

Anthony ran a hand through his hair, blowing a deep breath through his mouth. "Some bitch came lying to them, telling them she's pregnant!" he growled, knowing he was in deep shit. His money would not last forever.

The woman, her name was Murphy, stared at him for a moment, and then spoke a simple question: "Did you?"

Anthony stopped his pacing, thick eyebrows furrowed into a scowl. "Of course I didn't!" he said, sounding indignant. "She was taking the pill. She's got to be lying."

Murphy took a deep breath. "You mean to tell me that you weren't using any other form of protection?" she asked quietly, thinking: If he is as stupid as he sounds…

"For what? It's enough with the pill," he shrugged, and resumed his pacing.

Yep, no doubt about it. "See, now I'm glad that I made you use a condom. If you could be any more stupid, I will have to shoot myself," she said, sitting up on the bed and shaking her head. She adjusted a very short skirt, pulling it down.

He puffed his chest, indignant again. "It feels lousy," he informed her. "If I knew where you'd been before me, I would have refused to use the damn things. For all I know you could be a slut."

"Fuck you," she said calmly, crawling to the foot of the bed and reaching down for her shoes. "And how were you so sure that she hadn't been around?"

He watched her begin to slip on her high heels, and smiled smugly. Oh yeah, it was her legs. "Baby, she didn't know shit about sex," he crooned, moving closer to the bed and kneeling in front of her. A flirtatious smile lit his face, and his hand was moving up her bare leg. "Plus," he said, as his hand slid up between her legs. "She was tight as a clamp."

"You're an asshole, do you know that?" she said, not stopping his hand from exploring her anatomy. After all, he had done it plenty of times since the first. What was a couple more times?