Zaccaro

tonight. With one hand on the wheel, I reach over and stake claim to that curvy thigh of hers. Reese is leaning against the windowsill, and I’m sure her thought process is working overdrive as usual. Just my touch, and a smile brightens the subtle hint of tension on her beautiful face. I veer off of Beverly Hills Boulevard, and into the valet driveway for The Stinking Rose. As the runner comes around to the luxury car ahead of ours, I turn in my seat. “Reese, you ready?”
Reese shakes her head ‘no.’
“I'm game with playing hooky.” How the fuck am I going to make it tonight deprived of Reese’s touch? There’s no such thing as just one single touch.
A lazy smile tips the left side of her lips. “What about your dad? Leveling the playing field was your call, though. Granted my mom does outrageous stuff every chance she gets… I can do these.” Reese’s train of thought runs off on a tangent, “I've done this for the better half of my life.”
What is the “this” Reese is referring to? Instead of inquiring, a valet has stepped to my door. I open it and hand the keys, along with a tip, to the runner.
The interior is rustic, and the lights are dim. A pungent garlic aroma gives life to the restaurant’s moniker. From the main entryway, there are tables and alcoves of various Tinseltown designs. I don't see anyone who'd resemble her features.
Reese smiles at the hostess as they chat. “Dunham? Lolita? Anyone check in by that name?”
“Yes, ma'am. Oh, you must be Lolita's daughter. She's expecting you and one other guest.” The lady glances at me as if I am the addition she is referring to.
“Well, are we able to please squeeze in room for five?” Reese asks. She loops arms with me, and adds, “He’s with me.”
The hostess clicks her pen pensively while glancing at the roster. “It'll be tight but I believe we can squeeze in another seat.”
As we follow the hostess past garlic memorabilia and tables from intimate couples to larger chattier gatherings, Reese whispers. “My mom didn't tell me about anyone besides her current situation. So I can only apologize in advance...”
I begin to tell her not to worry, yet my gaze tracks a very beautiful older woman. The instant my eyes land on hers, the equation clicks within my psyche. She’s laughing low, yet exuberantly to something her companion says. The man, I often speak to regularly and assumed I knew more than he knew himself. My father arises.
“Tino, you've met your new sister!” Tony says hands held out. People at the tables around us are drawn to his boisterous voice. Moreover, he’s not a tiny man, and his tenor is as affectionate as it is loud. “Pardon me,” he tells a couple to his left while squeezing around their table in order to get closer to us.
As stoic as one of my pieces of art at home, Reese is taken into his lofty embrace.
The hostess’s gander slides back and forth from the four of us, seemingly aware of each of our connections. Her pinched nose is pointed upwards in a manner that reads we’ve all committed sins of a biblical proportion. Voice contrite, she mentions, “So… looks like it isn’t necessary to squeeze in an extra chair after all…”
Jaw clenched, I nod. “Nope, not necessary.”
She lingers, entertained by the discomfort radiating off of Reese, and then struts back to the front of the restaurant. And here I am, unable to say one word when Reese speaks. “Mom this is Tony? This is the man you've married but who the heck is Tino?” She glances back and forth at the three of us as if my dad, her mom and I are related–aliens but related nonetheless.
“Valentino. Tino. He's Tino!” my dad says, speech amplifying with each word as he pats my back. “Glad to see you're answering my text messages.”
Voice callus as an image of tonight fades before me, I reply, “Never in my life have I received a text message from you. Not ever.” You don’t know how to send a text message.
“Nonsense. That's why you're here now. I texted you earlier saying– forget the meet at the house. My old lady wanted to go to dinner instead.” He begins to paw what could be Reese's twin, except her mother is a teaspoon darker and more intense. I nod as opposed to hugging her and what I presume are octopus arms.
“C’mere, doll! You're gorgeous.” Tony again hugs Reese. When he gets nervous, it’s incredibly creepy. “Simply fucking gorgeous. I need a cigar just lookin’ at you.”
In an instant, I place myself between the two. Time to cut the sideshow. The entire room has offered their attention. “C’mon, Dad. You've pawed on her enough.”
“The hell I have, Tino. Matter fact, Reese you're so pretty, I think I better sit next to you. That one’s a bigger hound than I am. I’m just a socially inept guy around a pretty face, then ends up talking way too much, know what I’m saying?”
Reese is visibly shocked as she slowly nods.
“It’s okay,” Lolita says, affectionately rubbing his arm. The mother and daughter hardly embrace, but my dad and I give each other a hearty hug. I quietly tell Tony to “lay off the charm a bit,” as he pats my back again.
Throughout dinner my father and his new bride carry the banter.
“We met at the Cartier in the Wynn,” Lolita replies, unlike her daughter’s sexy rasps of a voice, Lolita has had to learn hers. “I was…”
“She was window shopping,” Tony says, no filter at all. Her warm skin tone blushes just slightly. “Tino, I can’t fathom how my Vegas jeweler always knows when I’m in town. And before you goad me, I had no intentions of buying a new watch…”
Yeah, well, I’m too angry to say anything. He met Lolita before I met Reese. One of my mother’s rings is on the woman’s finger. This seems like a deal