Chapter 28

'Berto

Roberto managed to walk out to 'Vangeline's car, but it was a stretch. When he got there he leaned on the hood, and then put his head down between his hands, resting his forehead on the cool metal. "You gonna be okay, you?" 'Vangeline asked.

"Just give me a minute. I'm all pukey."

"You gonna puke, you, do it on the grass."

"Just gimme a minute, 'Vangeline."

She did. And after a minute or so he was able to straighten up, and moving slowly like an old man, climb into the passenger seat. He leaned back against the head rest, and was barely aware of 'Vangeline getting into the driver's seat and starting the engine. Before they'd gone more than a couple of blocks, he was asleep.

Toni

Toni heard a car door slam, and set the cup down on the table so hard that hot coffee slopped on the table and her hand. She barely noticed, as she ran to the front window. It was 'Vangeline's car, and her friend was helping someone out of the passenger seat ... it was 'Berto.

Toni opened the door and went down the two steps and halfway down the sidewalk. 'Vangeline saw her and said, "I got him, me. You go turn the bed down for him." The Cajun woman's accent was so strong this morning that it sounded like she said "de bed."

"Is he okay?"

"I talk to you when he's in bed, him."

"Angelina, is he okay?"

"Not exactly. Now go!"

Toni went. The covers were still mussed from her restless night, and she just flipped them down to the floor at the foot of the bed. She flew back to the front door, and was just in time to help 'Vangeline up the steps; she staggered a bit under 'Berto's dead weight. He seemed to be only half awake, and his feet moved like those of someone who was semi-paralyzed. Between them, the two women got 'Berto in the door and down the hall. There was no easy, graceful way to get him in bed – they got him to the foot of it, and let him fall, as gently as they could, backward. Toni pulled the covers off the floor and spread them over 'Berto, who appeared to be completely unconscious now ... in fact, he let out with a snore, a sound so familiar that it brought tears to Toni's eyes.

Toni reached down and smoothed the hair away from 'Berto's forehead. It was matted with dried sweat, and he smelled like a brewery in which someone had been deathly ill. She had never seen him drunk, unless he'd been drunk that first day, and she didn't think he'd been quite that far along. She had certainly never seen him in the aftermath of a brutal drunk, and her heart broke. God, if I had known it would lead to this, I would never have fought with him.

She felt a hand on her arm, and looked up to see 'Vangeline nodding toward the living room. Toni nodded, leaned down and kissed 'Berto's cheek, and then followed her friend out to the living room, pulling the bedroom door to behind her. 'Vangeline was sitting on the sofa, on what had become 'Berto's end over the past two weeks. Toni sat down on her end of the sofa, struggling not to cry.

"Angelina, what happened?"

'Vangeline – Angelina, as Toni called her – took a breath. "Partly it's my fault. He came in the bar yesterday, already half drunk. I thought of cutting him off, but the boss doesn't like that – he likes sales, him. I should have cut him off, Toni. I didn't." Angelina looked stricken – no makeup, dark circles under her eyes from apparently staying up all night, an expression of pain on her face. "I never seen him so drunk, me. Finally we closed, and dere was no way he could drive, him. I got his keys and put him in my car. He was sick as a dog, him. He puked half the night. I don't t'ink I got more dan two, t'ree hours of sleep, me." She ran her hands through her hair, that mane that looked wilder than ever this morning. "Toni, what happened?"

Toni was openly crying now, the tears running down her cheeks and her shoulders shaking. She reached out blindly and Angelina caught her hand and held it. "We had a fight. It was about ... it was about Christianity. I took some things he said personally, and we started yelling, and ... I don't know how or why, but I told him to get out and he did." She couldn't speak; her throat was solid pain. She let out a desolate wail and collapsed against her friend.

Angelina held her, stroking her hair and her back, holding her tightly. At one point Toni thought she felt a gentle kiss on top of her head, but in her misery she wasn't sure. Eventually the storm blew over, and she subsided into the occasional hitching breath.

Angelina took her shoulders and pushed her, gently, upright. "Toni, people fight. It don't mean you don't love each other. I know you do. You love him so much you crying like you gonna die, you. He love you so much he get mean to a woman las' night. He ain't de same man, him. Las' mont' he chase ever' woman he see. Las' night he don't want no woman, him. You guys got love, you. You gonna make it work."

"Are you sure, Angelina?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. You got what I want all my life, an' never got, no. You got love dat gonna las' forever."

Toni digested this. And then she asked a question that she hated, but which seemed to burst out on its own. "You and 'Berto didn't ... last night you..."

"No!" Angelina sounded offended. "He's your man, him. And I'm your frien'. You t'ink we do dat t'ing? Toni, you oughta know better, you."

Toni nodded. "You're right. It's just I was so worried all night that he might have gone home with someone..."

"And I'm a pretty woman, yeah. I know dat. But Toni, he never look at me. Before he met, yeah, sometimes he look at my ches', but las' night? He don't care I'm a woman, him. An' anyway he was so drunk he couldn't if he want to, no."

Every cloud has a silver lining, Toni thought, the old cliché actually comforting. 'Berto might have gone out and gotten blind stinking drunk, but the other side of that coin was that he had remained faithful. It was a tarnished silver lining, but it was better than unrelieved gloom.

Angelina brushed Toni's hair back, tucking it behind her ears. And then she did a thing so intimate only a friend as close as a sister could have done it. Angelina took Toni's face in her hands, palms to cheeks, and leaned close. "Antonia, he loves you, him. Why you t'ink your argument get him so upset? He never go out on you. Trust him, Toni."

They stayed like that for a few seconds, and then Angelina leaned even closer and this time there was no doubt – she kissed Toni on the forehead. Toni's breath caught, and she was crying again, reaching for her friend, wrapping her arms around Angelina. It was a brief spell, and when she calmed down she said, her mouth near Angelina's ear, "Thank you, amiga."

'Berto

This time when Roberto woke he was able to sit up without feeling like he was going to vomit. His stomach was a little woozy, true, but whatever was left in his stomach stayed in place. He got to his feet, and staggered. For a moment he thought he was going to fall back onto the bed, but then he got his feet under him. His head was pounding – it felt like someone had turned his skull into a steel drum. He heard someone groan ... it was him, he realized. I have never hurt so bad from a hangover. He took a step or two, and found that he could walk. In fact the dizziness was less now than it had been.