Journal

November 21

21:00

Saturday

This morning, I was awakened by the strangest, most unsettling dream.  In it, I could feel myself dying, and falling and falling into an abyss.  Just perpetually feeling despair and loss and loneliness.  As though I was trapped in a state of dying without losing consciousness. When I awoke, my heart was hammering.  My skin was damp. I don’t know what could have caused such a dream.

I crawled out of bed and went into Ray’s room. Ray slept in a fetal position, his head covered. I slipped under the covers with him. 

He startled as I settled in, suddenly alert.  As a detective, he was used to being awakened for emergencies. He heaved himself in to an upright position.  “Benny! What’s wrong?”

“Ray, do you think I’m boring?”

“What?!  What in the name of God would make you think that? And do we have to have this conversation at… 4 a.m.? Couldn’t this wait until, I dunno, after sunrise?”

“People get bored with me.  Women, I mean.  They see an attractive man in uniform, think they want to get to know me, but they always lose interest, eventually. Because I’m…. bland.”

“So.  You DO realize you’re good-looking,” he said with a sleepy eyed grin, instantly soothing my nocturnal anxiety.

“It’s not everything it’s cracked up to be, Ray.”

Ray frowned, and reached out and touched his fingers to my face.  “Why you all sweaty?”

“Nightmare.”

 He scooted closer to me, and said, “Turn around.”  I rolled over, and he gently rubbed my back.  “Benny. Don’t worry ‘bout nothin’.  I am NOT gonna leave you. You understand me?”

“Yes, Ray.  Ray?”

“Yeah, Benny?”

“Thank you.”

“You betcha, Benny.” 

I sent up a silent prayer to God for sending me to Ray Vecchio.  I relaxed under his soothing strokes.  And that was all I knew until the bright sun woke us up in the morning. 

November 22

Sunday 20:00

We spent the day running errands for Mother, including picking up the turkey and other fixings for Thanksgiving.  We were having a party of sixteen for the holiday dinner, including Ray’s cousin Valerie, her mother Marie Therese, and assorted other cousins, in-laws, and aunts and uncles, from both the Esposito and Vecchio sides of the family.  Ray and I had been volunteered to pick up Ray’s Uncle Antonio from the airport Tuesday night, as well as his Uncle Lorenzo from the nursing home Thursday morning.  His uncle Vincenzo was arriving from Gary tomorrow tonight to spend the weekend.  He usually made an appearance several times a year, and in fact was staying at the house the first time Ray brought me home for dinner.  He was not very forthcoming with conversation, but he was a nice enough gentleman.  

Mother’s sister Giuseppina and some of her brood were flying in from Boca Raton Wednesday afternoon.   I was giving up my room to her, and sleeping on the chesterfield in the front parlor.  Ray was giving up his room to Uncle Antonio, and would be sleeping in the TV room.  Ray’s two young cousins would be sleeping on the floor in Frannie’s room, and Maria’s children would be sharing a room to make room for more of Ray’s second cousins.  It was amazing how many people could fit in this house, Granted, it was a large house, but really!

Between errands, Ray and I managed to squeeze in some together time to see “Copland”, and grab a pizza after the movie.  Ray loves Sylvester Stallone.  I thought I might get him the full Rocky series on videocassette for Christmas.  I think he would enjoy that immensely. 

Things had been very intense between Ray and myself lately. After that night at La Boheme, I knew he was sexually interested. I knew that he wanted to kiss me, but wasn’t quite ready to.  I tried to be receptive as possible, to let him know I would welcome it, yet I also knew if something between us was going to work, then it needed to be Ray’s idea, and on Ray’s terms.  So I patiently waited.  But it was difficult.  I find myself most nights lying awake and thinking of him, wondering what his hands will feel like on my bare skin. Wondering how his mouth will taste, wondering what it will feel like to be brought to orgasm by him.  And sometimes, I would have one, imagining his hands in place of my own. 

Early Thanksgiving morning, Ray and I are helping out at the shelter. Ray and I will be cutting and preparing vegetables, tending turkeys and hams, and making pies.  Ray grumbled just a bit about this after I volunteered us for these chores, but now I believe he is looking forward to it.  I hope to see Mr. Garrett there.  The gentleman is still having some trouble pulling himself up by his boot straps, but I am confident that in due time he will be self-sufficient once again.  He is getting the help that he needs for his mental illness at last, and soon should be stable enough to hold down a steady job of some sort. The social workers at the shelter were assisting him with finding affordable housing.

A lot has happened this month.  Ray helped me find an apartment at 21 St. John’s Street. It’s a narrow lane off of Octavia Ave, and only 1.3 miles from the Vecchio house.  Ray will help me move on November 30.  As much as I love living with this family, I wouldn’t dream of overstaying my welcome.  Dief and I have imposed long enough. 

The apartment is a large first floor one bedroom, in a three-story house converted into six apartments.  The style is not unlike this home.   My living room overlooks a small cemetery, so I was assured of quiet.  Ray found this unsettling when we viewed the apartment.  But I convinced him that the good condition of the apartment, and the affordable rent put it at the top of my list.  After some time, he agreed with me.  However, I suspect that the fact that it was so close to his home had much to do with it.  

There is ample room in the apartment, much more than a man and a wolf need.  But Ray has plans for me to acquire a queen-sized bed, a sofa and recliner, and dinette set, all of which he has downstairs in the basement.  I didn’t feel right about accepting all these gifts from Ray and initially, I refused.  Ray actually stopped speaking to me for one evening.  When I finally accepted the next morning, he gave me a warm, tight hug, which for me was even better than accepting his things. 

Ray admitted to me after we returned from the lease signing that the furniture had belonged to Angie and him, and had been in the basement unused since the divorce.  These were not even things that he had needed, but he admitted he was angry with her after the marriage ended, and took them to punish her. I think by giving up this furniture, he was giving up his anger towards her.  He officially declared to me that he was ready to move on.  And I also understood that this was his was of declaring his intentions toward me. 

 I can’t imagine what drove Angie and Ray apart.  I couldn’t imagine how anyone could leave Ray Vecchio.  Ray does not reveal anything about their relationship, even though it has been several years since it ended. He’s never spoken any ill will towards her, either, and will not allow anyone else in the family to do so.  His protectiveness of her is an admirable quality. 

Ray later took me to Marshall Fields, and I bought a few housewares and two sets of sheets. I surprised Ray by picking high-thread count, luxury sheets.  I didn’t tell him that I did this out of deference to his preferences. One set of sheets were a crisp white embroidered with a blue border, and the other was a pale green.  Ray’s favorite color is green.   

I am in love with Raymond Mario Vecchio.

I wanted to write those words because I wanted to see them written.  Because it makes it seem so real, so possible.   I feel myself heating up. My heart is racing.  I’m in love, but I don’t feel afraid.  I should end this entry.  Ray will be stopping in to say goodnight at any moment now.  Maybe tonight he will finally kiss my mouth; I am dying.

Thank you, God.  Thank you for finally putting a stop to my nomadic ways.  I am going to have a permanent home, with friends and family.  No one is going to pick up and move me just after I managed to make a few friends in school.  No sergeant or supervisor is going to transfer me to a new outpost because they secretly thought I was ‘strange’.  No one is going to cast me away anymore. America—Chicago— was home now.

I give thanks to you, God, for guiding me here to Ray Vecchio.