No Ordinary Love Page 10

  “So do you,” Aika said. “You’re a very strong man.”

  “Their muscles are bigger,” Tony said. He then gazed at the twelve finalists. “Trina will not win.”

  “She might,” Angelo said.

  Tony shook his head. “She is the only one with dark brown skin and dark brown eyes. She is unique like Angela and Aika. She is not like the others. She will not win.”

  “She might win the vote because she is unique,” Angelo said.

  “No,” Tony said. “She will not win. Her face is pure. Her face is honest. She deserves a second chance. The other women do not. Therefore, Trina will not win.”

  “He’s probably right,” Aika said.

  “Find her for me, Angelo,” Tony said. “Bring her to Brooklyn.”

  “It’s not that easy, Tony,” Angelo said. He pointed at a woman named Bambi Bennett. “What about her? Will she win?”

  “She has big blue eyes,” Tony said. “She has big breasts. Her buttocks are not in proportion to her breasts. She has a tattoo above her flat buttocks. She has big hair. She will win the vote.”

  Angelo clicked on her photo. “Let’s see what Bambi has to say. ‘I have been beautiful all my life, so beautiful that no boy in high school would ask me out.’ Seriously?”

  “Let me read the rest,” Aika said. “That sounded so creepy coming out of your mouth. ‘I didn’t go to homecoming. I didn’t go to the prom. I thought that in college that would change, but it didn’t. I have never been on a single date in my entire life.’ Oh come on.”

  “She is lying,” Tony said. “She has been on many dates.”

  “Of course she’s been on dates, Tony,” Aika said. “She’s lying to get sympathy. ‘I want to go on this show to get a second chance at romance, the kind of romance that’s new, pure, and innocent.’”

  “I want that kind of romance,” Tony said.

  “Bambi is exactly what advertisers want,” Aika said. “Can you hear Bambi’s voice reading her bio while they film her walking through empty bleachers at a high-school football stadium or wandering through an empty gymnasium where streamers litter the floor?”

  “Or having her walk along the beach at sunset in a skimpy bikini all alone,” Angelo said.

  “Bambi would not walk alone in a bikini,” Tony said. “Men would be walking behind her and staring at her buttocks. I sometimes stare at your buttocks, Aika. They are pretty.”

  “Dude, really?” Angelo said.

  “I am sorry,” Tony said.

  “Don’t be, Tony,” Aika said. “At least you tell me what you appreciate. Unlike your brother.”

  “I tell you what I like,” Angelo said.

  “In bed,” Aika whispered.

  “Well, yeah,” Angelo said. “What better place?”

  “Bambi is not honest,” Tony said. “She lies. She will win, but she will not find love.”

  “Probably not, but America loves wistful, innocent, doe-eyed beauties like Bambi,” Aika said. “She’s the all-American girl.”

  “She has some seriously nice, um, assets,” Angelo said.

  Aika jumped into Angelo’s lap and held him against the couch. “Quit staring at the big-eyed, big-chested Rapunzel who’s long on legs and hair and short on intelligence.”

  “Trina is a pretty name,” Tony said. “I want to talk to her.” He turned to Angelo. “I will get my phone.”

  “You don’t have her phone number, Tony,” Angelo said.

  “Get her phone number for me,” Tony said.

  “I’m not getting her phone number,” Angelo said. He kissed Aika forcefully. “I want this little lady’s phone number.”

  “I want her phone number!” Tony shouted.

  Angelo looked around Aika. He asks specific questions and he shouts? Who is this guy in front of me? “Tony, listen to me. You’re not ready for any woman, much less Trina.”

  “I need more practice,” Tony said. He walked quickly out of the theater.

  “Where are you going?” Angelo called out.

  “I am going to practice with Angela,” Tony said.

  “Geez,” Angelo said. “Aika, if we don’t do something, he’ll be on the G train and knocking on Angela’s shop door in half an hour and Angela has been closed for two hours.”

  Aika leaped off the couch and met Tony as he was reaching into the closet for his Brooklyn Dodgers jacket. “You could practice with me, right?”

  “You are not Angela,” Tony said. “You are not dark brown. Trina is dark brown.”

  “But you like me, don’t you?” Aika asked. “You think I’m pretty.”

  “Yes,” Tony said.

  She touched his elbow. “Then let’s talk.” She led him back to the couch in the theater and sat next to him. “Pretend I’m Trina.”

  “You are not Trina,” Tony said.

  “Look at her picture on the television then,” Aika said.

  Tony turned toward the television. “I like looking at Trina’s face.”

  “Okay, let’s begin,” Aika said. “Hi, my name is Trina. What’s your name?”

  Tony took a deep breath. “I am Tony Santangelo from Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, New York, USA.”

  “Just tell her your name is Tony,” Angelo said.

  “I am more than my name,” Tony said.

  “I know that, but you’re giving her a little too much information all at once,” Angelo said, “and you’re going to scare the shit out of her.”

  Tony sighed. “I do not want to scare the shit out of her.”

  “Let’s start again,” Aika said. “What’s your name?”

  “My name is Tony.” Tony waited for the next question.

  “Now is a good time to ask what her name is,” Aika said.

  “I know her name,” Tony said.

  “I know you know her name,” Aika said, “but you have to act as if you don’t know her name.”

  “I do not understand,” Tony said.

  “If you come up to her and say, ‘Hi, Trina,’” Aika said, “she’ll ask how you knew her name.”

  “And I will tell her I saw her story on the Internet,” Tony said.

  “And she will think you’re a stalker,” Aika said.

  “I do not want that,” Tony said.

  “Always ask for a woman’s name,” Aika said. “Trust me on this. You’ll be less creepy that way.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let’s continue,” Aika said. “What do you do, Tony?”

  “I watch the Weather Channel and walk my dog Silver and play my 1883 Mason & Hamlin piano and ride the subway and write songs and—”

  “Trina’s running away from you now,” Angelo interrupted.

  “Simply tell her who you are,” Aika said.

  “But you asked what I did,” Tony said.

  “You are what you do,” Aika said. “You write songs and play the piano.”

  “I am what I do,” Tony said. “I write songs and play the piano. Okay. Ask me more.”

  “Tony, you look familiar,” Aika said. “Are you famous?”

  “No,” Tony said.

  “But you are, Tony,” Aika said.

  “Art E. is famous,” Tony said. “I am not.”

  “Oh, just tell Trina you’re Art E. and get on with the conversation,” Angelo said. “You’re putting her to sleep.”

  “But I am Tony Santangelo,” Tony said. “I want Trina to love me, not Art E. Art E. does not watch the Weather Channel. Art E. does not play the piano. Art E. does not write songs.”

  “Tony, she might not give you the time of day unless you tell her who you are,” Angelo said.

  “I will buy her a watch so Trina can give me the time of day,” Tony said.

  “What I meant was, she might not talk to you at all unless she knows who you really are,” Angelo said. “She might dismiss you in the first ten seconds unless you tell her how famous you are.”

  “Trina should talk to me whether I am famous or not,” Tony said.

  “In a perfect wor
ld, yes,” Aika said. “But the world isn’t perfect, Tony.”

  “Just tell her you’re the man whose songs made Naomi Stringer a household name,” Angelo said. “You’re the man who has won three Grammys.”

  “Trina will not believe me,” Tony said. “No one will believe me.”

  “He has a point, Angelo,” Aika said.

  “And that’s my point,” Angelo said. “Unless I’m there with Tony to talk to this woman, she’s going to think Tony is a nut job. He can’t talk to her on his own, Aika. You have to see that.”

  “I do not want you there,” Tony said. “I have to talk to Trina alone.”

  “Then she won’t believe you,” Angelo said, “and you’ll get to watch her walk away.”

  Tony started twisting and pulling on his fingers. “I am too different.”

  Angelo focused on Tony’s hands. Not that again. He hardly does that anymore. At least he’s not chanting.

  “Tony, you’re wonderfully different,” Aika said. She rubbed his thigh.

  Tony stopped twisting and pulling on his fingers.

  And Aika stops his stimming by touching him, Angelo thought. Mama used to do that, too.

  “You have soul, Tony,” Aika said. “You are all heart. Most men don’t have half your heart or focus. Including your brother, who is really pissing me off tonight.”

  “All I’m saying is that if Tony tells Trina all that he is with my help,” Angelo said, “she might become more interested in him.”

  “What if Trina isn’t impressed by that?” Aika asked.

  “She has to be impressed by three Grammy Awards,” Angelo said. “And hopefully a fourth at the end of the month.”

  “I do not want Trina to talk to me because of the awards,” Tony said. “I do not want Trina to talk to me because I am Art E. I want Trina to talk to me because she likes talking to me. I am Tony Santangelo from Cobble Hill, Brooklyn. Bring Trina to Brooklyn.”

  “Dude, I can’t call up a complete stranger and say, ‘Hey, my brother wants to meet you so hop on a plane.’ ” Angelo smiled. “We have to go to her.”

  “You said you would help me,” Tony said.

  “I’m trying to help you,” Angelo said. “Why don’t we all go out to San Francisco so you can meet Trina?”

  Tony resumed twisting and pulling on his fingers. “I do not want to leave Brooklyn.”

  I hate to keep scaring him like this, but he has to understand how impossible all this is. “You haven’t been out of New York your whole life. Why don’t you go to San Francisco? A change of scenery will do you good.”

  Aika put her hand on Tony’s arm, but Tony kept yanking on his fingers. “I will not have the home-field advantage,” Tony said. “Home-field advantage is essential to winning championships in the NBA and the NFL.”

  “How do you know that?” Angelo asked.

  “Aika makes me watch SportsCenter sometimes at breakfast,” Tony said.

  “I do not make you watch it,” Aika said. “You like to watch it. You said the ‘not top ten’ is funny.”

  “It is funny,” Tony said. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

  “Home-field advantage is only important in sports, Tony,” Angelo said. “Not in romance.”

  “Well, it kind of is, Angelo,” Aika said. “You knew exactly where to take me to impress me the first time we went out. If you didn’t know Brooklyn so well, I might not be here now.”

  “All right, your home turf does play a little role,” Angelo said, “but in romance, variety is good.”

  Tony stood and paced in front of the TV. “I know Brooklyn. Brooklyn is my home.”

  “San Francisco isn’t in a foreign country, Tony,” Aika said. “And in some ways, San Francisco is as much if not more of a melting pot as Brooklyn is. You celebrate Brooklyn’s diversity so well in your music. Go celebrate the diversity in San Francisco. If nothing else, you’ll have the raw materials for more songs.”

  Tony stopped pacing. “I need to know more about Trina first.”

  What just happened? Aika hasn’t convinced him to go to San Francisco, has she? “Why do you need to know more about Trina?”

  “So I do not say the wrong thing,” Tony said. “I want her to like me.”

  “You really should learn about Trina on your own,” Aika said. “The real joy and wonder of any relationship is the getting-to-know-you part. And even the not knowing and doubt can be wonderful.”

  “Not knowing is not wonderful,” Tony said. “Doubt is not wonderful.”

  “If you know everything about a person,” Aika said, “there are no surprises.”

  “I do not like surprises,” Tony said.

  “But if there are no surprises,” Aika said, “there may be no fun, no excitement, and no romance. Maybe even. . . no love.”

  “I want to know all about Trina first,” Tony said.

  “You mean you want to sponge her,” Angelo said.

  “Yes,” Tony said. “I want to sponge her.”

  “You shouldn’t have to, Tony,” Aika said. “You need to wring yourself out and soak up a real person firsthand and face-to-face. You didn’t sponge Angela, did you?”

  “I found Angela in Brooklyn,” Tony said. “I must find Trina in Brooklyn, too.”

  This is better, Angelo thought. He’s talking himself out of it again.

  “But Trina is not in Brooklyn,” Aika said.

  “Trina will like me in Brooklyn,” Tony said.

  “Once Trina gets to know you, she will like you anywhere,” Aika said.

  “Trina will not like me in San Francisco,” Tony said.

  Aika shrugged. “Then she doesn’t like you. Move on and live to love another day. You wrote those lyrics. Put them to use. Follow your own advice. Move on and live to love another day.”

  Tony ripped his hands from his pockets, pulling and twisting on his fingers. “Okay.”

  Angelo stood. “Okay what?”

  “I am going to San Francisco,” Tony said.

  That’s not happening. “To do what exactly?” Angelo asked.

  “To find Trina,” Tony said.

  “And then what?” Angelo asked.

  “I do not know,” Tony said.

  And I’m glad he doesn’t know. That will keep him here. One more scare to seal the deal. “And that’s okay, Tony. One step at a time.” Angelo picked up the remote and returned to the Google screen. “I’ll check out some flights for us.”

  “No,” Tony said. “I must go by myself.”

  “Tony,” Angelo said, “you need someone—”

  “I need Trina,” Tony interrupted.

  “We’d only go to make sure you were safe,” Aika said.

  “I must do this alone,” Tony said.

  “We’ll go with you to explain everything to her about you,” Aika said. “We’ll help her understand.”

  “No,” Tony said. “I will go alone.”

  “San Francisco is a big city,” Angelo said.

  “Brooklyn is bigger in land area and population than San Francisco is,” Tony said.

  “That’s no guarantee you’ll find her,” Angelo said.

  “Trina is a nurse at Saint Francis Memorial Hospital,” Tony said. “I will find her. I will talk to her. I will get her to like me. I will ask her to marry me.”

  “Tony, you have to understand,” Aika said, “it’s not that simple. There are other variables to consider.”

  “I will be a suitor for her hand,” Tony said. “I will win her hand. Buy me a ticket to San Francisco.”

  “I’m not letting you go by yourself,” Angelo said. “Tony, you’ve never even taken a taxi.”

  “I do not need a taxi,” Tony said.

  “You’ll need to take plenty of taxis in San Francisco,” Angelo said. “It’s a very hilly city.”

  “I will walk,” Tony said. “I will wear hiking boots. I will ride the cable cars.”

  “You’d have to take an airplane to get there,” Angelo said.

  Tony s
topped twisting his fingers. “I will be okay. It is safer to travel on an airplane than on a bus, train, or in a car.”

  “And you’d have to stay in a hotel,” Angelo said. “Hotels are strange places.”

  “I will stay with Trina,” Tony said.

  “Oh no you won’t,” Angelo said. “You’ll have to stay in a hotel.”

  “I want to stay with Trina,” Tony said.

  “We know you do,” Aika said, “but you have to give her a chance to accept you first.”

  “I do not want her to accept me,” Tony said. “I want her to love me. I want her to hold my hand with her dark brown hand.”

  “We know you do, Tony, and it’s so romantic,” Aika said. “But you can’t just show up and expect someone to love you. Love takes time.”

  “I will wait two days,” Tony said.

  “Tony, it doesn’t work that way,” Aika said.

  “I will wait two days, and then I will go to San Francisco.” Tony left the theater.

  In a few moments, Angelo and Aika heard the hum of the elevator.

  “He isn’t serious, is he?” Aika asked.

  “He will forget all of this in two days,” Angelo said. “Don’t worry. Tony only has a one-track mind for his music.”

  “He seems pretty serious,” Aika said.

  “He’ll get over it,” Angelo said. “You’ll see.”

  San Francisco, California

  13

  Three days after her Second Chances interview, Trina carried a stack of mail into her bedroom and dumped it onto her bed.

  Bill.

  Bill.

  Robert’s bill with my name on it.

  “Save the planet!” Oh, no! Not again!

  Please vote for me in a special election . . .

  You deserve new vinyl siding!

  A credit-card application? Are they crazy?

  Reminder from Hyundai to bring the car I no longer own for a 75,000-mile checkup.

  She stared at the last envelope, postmarked from Century City, California.

  Time to find out what I already know.

  She tore open the envelope and read the enclosed letter:

  My dear Miss Woods:

  It is with sincere regret that I inform you that online voters did not select you for the leading role on Second Chances.