Chapter 30

Toni

By the time they reached San Mateo, 'Berto was weakening, feeling the effects of his night. "I don't feel sick, Toni, but I've got to rest a bit," he told her. And she could feel the weakness in him, the shakiness in his walk.

"All right," she said. "Let's get across and find a place in the park." The trail indeed crossed San Mateo, passed the Erna Fergusson library on the north, and led into Montgomery Park. It was a fine spring afternoon, and she knew that relaxing on the grass would do 'Berto good.

It took some waiting, first for the traffic to break in the southbound lanes and then, as they stood in the median, the northbound, but they got across. By now she could hear 'Berto's breathing; it was rasping in and out of his mouth as his body rebelled against activity. "Just a little further, my lord," she told him, and drew his arm across her shoulders so that she could take as much of his weight as he would give her and she could bear. They didn't have to go much further. There was a tree with no one under it, and she led him to it, helping him to sit with his back against the trunk. She sat cross-legged at his feet, one hand on his leg, gently rubbing and squeezing, willing her touch to convey her love to him.

He leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes, and slowly his breathing slowed. "I didn't realize it was so far over here," he said.

"It's not, 'Berto, just a mile or so, but perhaps I expected too much of you. I have to admit that I'm not used to dealing with hangovers. Come to think of it, I don't believe I ever have had to."

"Just be glad you don't have one, Toni. I've been hungover before, and that should have taught me a lesson. This one surely will. There is nothing in being drunk that's enough fun to make up for this."

"What is it like?"

"My head is killing me, though some of that's from overdoing it, I think. A hangover gets your head pounding, and every little sound just makes it worse. Light makes it worse. Everything makes it worse, I think. Then my stomach's doing little flip flops, though nothing like it did at 'Vangeline's house. I puked my guts out there ... I think that toast settled my innards some. Just that little walk wore me out completely, though. I'm not an athlete, but normally I could walk that far without even noticing. I like walking, after all."

"I'm tempted," Toni said, "to wonder why anyone would subject himself to such torture. But clearly there is something attractive in drunkenness, or so many people wouldn't seek it. I don't want to know what it is, though. I don't want to wind up feeling as sick as you do right now."

"And it's not really fun being drunk, either. You think you're having fun, but really all that's happening is that every bit of good sense you ever had is drowning in alcohol. What you think is fun is just a bunch of foolishness."

Toni's hand continued to rub 'Berto's leg, though she hitched herself forward so that now it rested on his thigh rather than his shin. "You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, 'Berto, but why did you get drunk last night?"

"Habit, I guess. I used to drink whenever I got mad – or whenever I was happy, or whenever I was sad. Alcohol pretends to solve your problems, but really it just hides them. The truth is that the only thing you ever find at the bottom of the bottle, is the bottom of the bottle. But out of habit I went out and tried to drown my sorrows, as the saying has it. All I really drowned was my brain..."

Toni was silent for a few minutes. "It sounds like you're sick of drinking."

"I am. I didn't realize it till I woke up in our bed ... no, when you stood in the doorway and wouldn't come any closer to me. Anything which can foul up our relationship like that I want nothing to do with. I love you, Toni, and I don't want ever to hurt you the way I did."

Toni took her hand off of 'Berto's leg, and scooted around so that she was facing the same direction he was. "Lie down and rest, my lord. Here, let me hold you." And she lay down, drawing 'Berto with her and pillowing his head on her shoulder, her arm around him. "Just close your eyes and rest. You did hurt me, but I'm over it, and I forgive you. You won't do it again, I know that. Rest..."

'Berto

He woke up in the early evening, his eyes opening on the fiery colors of the sunset over the West Mesa. He felt fingers on his forehead, smoothing the hair away from his face, and he turned his head and looked into Toni's face. He thought she had never been so beautiful. Some emotion had transfigured her – item by item she was the same, but the sum total of her features was a loveliness that was heartbreaking. He reached up a hand and stroked her cheek, and ran a finger along her cheekbone. "Did you know that I love you?"

"Yes." It was barely more than a breath.

"If I hadn't already asked you to marry me, I'd do it now."

"If I hadn't already agreed to marry you, I would."

He traced her jawbone, and with the backs of his fingers gently caressed the underside of her jaw, where her skin was so soft. "I'll need to call the church tomorrow."

"I can do that, 'Berto. I'm the one who's more familiar with churches, you know."

"But I'm the one who made sure we couldn't be there today. I'm the one who needs to be responsible for apologizing."

She looked at him, and his hand, which had not ceased to caress her, smoothed the hair where it drew back into the barrette, and then his fingers delicately followed the contour of her ear. She said, "I don't insist that you do that."

"No, but I do. It's something I need to do, Toni. Maybe it's part of growing up..."

"You have been growing up, 'Berto. And I'm proud of the way you've worked at becoming a man, and not merely a boy in love."

"How can I not?" His fingers traced an eyebrow, that thick black feature that, he realized, he loved. "You're teaching me maturity every day, and in any case I want to be as worthy of you as I can, not that I have a hope of ever deserving you."

"It's not a question of deserving, 'Berto. It's a question of grace..."