When I Am Weak, Then I Am Strong: The Incredible Saga of the Stanoli Family Book 2

By Dr. Vincent M. M. Galici Sr.

The contemporary figure has somewhat similar characteristics to his father, grandfather, and great grandfather; a soul-searching thinker, all the same, departing from the ruinous while conserving the beneficial side of the culture, customs and manners in which he was raised and the larger generational dimensions embedded in it.
A virtual page-turner, highly intense and graphically detailed, the saga continues to unfold. Characters readily identifiable in your own life, cheek by jowl with the hero and foe, stir and percolate the gamut of your emotions. Rooting for the one while despising the other, you’re propelled into the bowels of the narrative.
Some personalities appear to be born evil and feed on the environs; others tend to virtue and progress upon it. Protagonists and antagonists are mixed and varied: some eternal optimists finding happiness even in dark periods; some risk takers in the will for clarity putting reputation on the line; some perpetually abstruse, their sad comfort zone; and the many up and down others.
The Stanoli patriarch was fond of saying, “There is nothing greater than loving God and loving your neighbor,” and “I am a learner and willing to be corrected and criticized in order to become what I ought to become no matter where it comes from,” and “I make it my moral ambition to be happy around others.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781663211439

Dr. Vincent M. M. Galici Sr.

Vincent M. M. Galici, Sr has an earned undergraduate degree in biblical studies, an earned master’s degree in theology, and an earned PhD in biblical/secular counseling, and Christian thought. He has more than 45 years of ongoing passionate interest, study, and application in America, and Americans of Italian descents history, customs, and manners, as applied to mortal man and the guarantee of immortality for the Christian.

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CONTENTS

BOOK 2

CHAPTER 10 :VINCENT AND ANNETTE

Jeffers’ Wedding Reception

Can It Be the Real Thing?

Tide of Adjustments

Tunings and Turnings

The End at Hand

Where Now?

CHAPTER 11 :THE RINGING IN THE EARS

Socratic Method vs. Critical Theory

Climate Pit

The Big Ruse

Closing Argument

Separation

The Case for Truth

Belief in America, Happy Children

George Carlin: Man-Made Climate What?

CHAPTER 12 :SYNDROME

Bedlam

Anathema of a Priest

Hebephile and Pedophile

Our Thing

The Virtuous Marteses

CHAPTER 13 :ESSENTIALS

Missing the Point

Surprise

Colossal Egalitarian Plot

Equality of Result

No Such Thing

A Question of Misunderstanding

That Time

Angie’s Half-Sister

CHAPTER 14 :BETRAYAL WITH NO BLUSH

Sisters, Sisters

Margaret (Stanoli) Jeffers

Chronology

CHAPTER 15 :SEASONS

Vendetta

The Incident Time Forgot

Investigation Begins

The Purchases

Lancaster Story Continues

Bakersfield

Reaping What He Sowed

CHAPTER 16 :UNRAVELLING AND REVERSING

The Brothers

Hiatus Back to Michigan

At La Mia Pasticceria

Soulmate Here and Gone

Sam, Joe, and Gran

The Stranger Reappears

No One Threatens the Safety of a Father’s Children

The Real Authority Behind Drucci

EPILOGUE :IN THE OLD COUNTRY

GLOSSARY

BOOK 2

CHAPTER X

VINCENT AND ANNETTE

All the adversity I’ve had in my life, all my troubles and obstacles,

have strengthened me... You may not realize it when it happens,

but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you.

~ WALT DISNEY

JEFFERS’ WEDDING RECEPTION 56387.png

My philosophy is it’s none of my business what people say of

me and think of me. I am what I am, and I do what I do. I expect

nothing and accept everything. And it makes life so much easier.

~ ANTHONY HOPKINS

LIFE CAN BE FULL of surprises. Upon entering the church, they see the last of the wedding party photos being taken. In disbelief, Vincent leads Annette and Chantelle, to their seats in preparation for the ceremony.

Are you okay? Annette asks, noticeably puzzled.

I don’t understand, wedding photos are taken after the ceremony, at least, that’s been my experience.

Mine too, she replies, looking to see how he’ll handle it.

No one told me to be here earlier, I just don’t understand, Annette.

Sometimes family gets their wires crossed. Too bad.

Oh, Chantelle says, you mean, we won’t be in the photos with everybody else?

I guess we won’t, her mother replies consolingly.

But I wanted to be with Natalie. I like her.

I know, Channie. Well, you’ll see her later and can tell her.

And she replies, Oh, goody.

I suppose, Vincent surmises, indifferently, it wasn’t supposed to be, ‘s okay.

Under normal circumstances, he would have been distressed or agitated but the disappointment is momentary looking at his two lovelies beside him. The large church is packed and the wedding striking. Maggie never looks prettier and Tiers is proud and handsome. Probably because he’s so focused on the event, Vincent hasn’t noticed, until they’re at the reception, how impressive Annette is, in a cream-colored cartwheel-shaped 1940s style sunhat, the peach and cream colored southern belle gown, and matching peach and cream decorated high heels. Long and taller than the other females, she glides across the room, especially when dancing, like a starlet. He’s seen it before and yet never like this, how gorgeous, picturesque, how stunning she looks. The uneasiness, beforehand, as models have among their fiercest critics, until they’re on the promenade, Annette valiantly commandeers the aura, impresses him even more. Nary an eye isn’t fixated on her, even those trying not to can’t help but look. Genuinely gracious, modest, and amiable, without the slightest hint of affectation, only makes her the more appealing. In all, throughout the night, Annette mixes well with the throng.

And little Chantelle is having a ball playing with kids her age, especially Natalia, Sam’s jewel of a daughter. It’s one of the best-run wedding receptions ever in the Stanoli clan, fun and laughs, non-stop music from a four-piece ensemble, playing everything from Doo-Wop to country, show tunes and standards, and dancing all around. Early on, it’s civil but, alas, it takes a turn….

Halfway into the evening cousin, Mike Nussema, the foul son of the Frank Nussema kinfolk, mentioned earlier in the tale, a troublemaking, rabble rouser, makes his move. The oldest of Frank’s boys, Larry, was the first to get away from it when he married and moved to Montebello, California in the late sixties, ten years earlier. George, the youngest, in law school at the time, also isn’t present. But Mike never grew up and tonight is just another example of it. Vincent is outside with Barry, Tom B., Mike S., Adam, and Jon C., sharing a couple of joints with Sam, brother-in-law, Chester, and new brother-in-law, Tiers, when it starts. Mike’s sister, Theresa, is alerted by her mother, Freda, to keep her eyes on Mike when she catches him getting a bit wild and alerts Germaine, the eldest of the girls, who hastily leaves to tell Vincent.

Hey, cous’, she states.

Oh, hi Germaine, I….

Vincent, you’d better go inside; Mike might cause a scene with Annette ….

Annette - what? he reacts.

Well, Mike’s trying to get her to dance with him and….

You’re kidding? and he’s off in a flash, followed closely behind by the others.

Mike’s neither on the dance floor nor seen fraternizing with others and Annette can’t be seen, when he comes in. Germaine goes to the ladies’ room and Vincent waits for her return before he goes hunting for Mike. As he’s surveying the room, Germaine reemerges with Annette, looking anything but happy and, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mike approaching Annette from behind, impishly, poking her on the shoulder. At this point, some are already aware of what’s happened, but in the otherwise light and lively atmosphere, most of the crowd has no idea what’s in progress. As Annette turns around, Mike winks with his signature misogynist, up and down look, when he sees Vincent approaching. His glare and demeanor tells Annette the other side of him is emerging, she’s seen a glimpse of before. As Mike’s about to pinch her butt, she counters with a cold slap across his face and Germaine follows, clouting him across his left ear. Dazed, he jumps back a few steps. Other than Vincent and Barry, spread out as they were across the room in search of Annette, none of the other fellas see it.

Caught in the humiliating and annoying moment, Vincent feels sure she’ll want to leave, but he’s wrong. Holding hands like sisters, she and Germaine appear to be completely undaunted. What a woman, he marvels, talk about not knowing her other side. Mike, awkwardly, cupping his ear, and looking all around, shows the fool he is. And Annette coolly goes back to her table to join Stella and Ronelle, as if to say, she’s seen his type before.

In the tradition of his father, Sam Stanoli, it would have been more than enough to take him outside and give him the beating of his life. Not Vincent, at least, not yet…The SOB, second cousin on his mother’s side, has already suffered enough embarrassment and Annette appears to be handling it well, so he lets it go; there are others to think about and why upset the merriment? Most everybody still has no idea what’s happened and those that do appear not to be spreading it around. With that, Vincent starts in the direction of Annette and the others when, seeing the residual consternation on his face, Barry gently stops him and suggests giving her a few minutes with the gals. Vincent concurs it’s good advice.

And as they amble to the wall by the side door, a couple of Mike’s party crasher friends come in from the opposite end with a paper bag, no doubt of hard liquor, and Mike leaves to join them outside. But Mike wasn’t done yet. Never is. Not a minute later, the bunch return and rather than walk in the opposite direction when he sees Vincent, like thugs, they head straight for him and will prove to be one of Mike’s worst decisions.

Hey you! he calls out.

Coldly, he returns, Whaddaya want, Mike?

Oh, nothin’, I mean, other than a good piece of that a**, pointing to Annette.

Straining, his fists are taut like balls of iron and, yet with that inimitable humor, considering the source, he says, Uh-huh. Well, I know a hound down the block that’s just your type. If you like, I can whistle for her?

It’s been years since Mike’s seen Vincent and what he remembers is a quiet, taciturn, backward boy, nothing like this and, for a second, it takes him off balance.

What the f***? S***, you crazy? Hell, want a good licking, you son***b****!

Barry knew, oh, did he know. You see, someone was watching the night that fella thought Vincent was Sam and tried to hit him from behind in the parking lot. Barry had been up in the copy room, doing some work for the Jorgenson Group, just inside the window on the third floor, with a view of the whole thing. He saw what Vincent’s capable of and now that person’s in play. Barry knows this is going where nothing he can say will allay the inevitable if this clown doesn’t back off. But he gives it a shot, anyway.

Hey, he addresses Mike, would you mind? No one wants any trouble here. Just drop it and go about your business, okay?

Drop? Hell, you say, I haven’t even gotten started yet.

Man, you don’t know, do you, you could be biting off more than you can chew. You can’t really be that stupid? and asks himself why is he egging him on.

And who the hell are you, talk about, stupid; lookee over there at cousin, Mr. Rogers. S***, I’ll take you both on with one hand and the other on that gals a**, ay boys? he snorts, with a smirk to his fellow wackos.

At the reference to Annette, Vincent feels it, but still it’s not enough to ignite him, and he replies with a little history lesson, Oh, Mikey, you don’t know what you’re talking about, as if anything else is new. Fred Rogers was a World War II veteran and hero. A rough and ready battle-scarred, Navy Seal and Marine sharpshooter, who’d earned medals for bravery and was cited for going beyond the call of duty. Fred Rogers? Okay, I’ll take that.

Man, so you’re a teacher too, ay? Well, my cousin, you know, your ma sittin’ over there with the other mama’s, is Ma Kettle, ain’t she? ‘Bet you didn’t know that. Just ask anybody, she’s just another hillbilly, and good piece of a** too.

Barry knows this is it and backs up a few steps. He sees Vincent’s eyes travel across the room and his mother dancing with Carmine. Flashes from the past flood Vincent’s mind. Pa is dancing with Ma in the living room when he’s a little boy; as a teenager, Ma is dancing with him; Pa takes down a man when he embarrasses his wife, in the hardware store, when Vincent’s seven; sees it all within in the span of Mike’s last words. Barry comes between Vincent and Mike and the lowlifes he’s with, as Mike Stuart and Jon Clarke are approaching. All instinct, before he knows it, before anyone knows it, Vincent strikes him once in the chest, the gut, and a hammering hook to the left jaw, driving Mike through the open doorway, onto the pavement of the parking lot. As Barry and others move in, Mike’s so-called thugs, make no move.

Outside now and away from disturbing the festivities, mortified and chastened, Mike springs to his feet only to find rubber legs. Nevertheless, he reaches behind, pulls out a blackjack, and lunges in the attempt to swipe him across the face. Vincent had taken a couple of drags of weed, minutes before, but not enough to impair his reflexes, and was able to dodge a deliberate brutal blow that barely clipped his left shoulder. But Mike’s momentum propels him awkwardly into the side of the building, fortunately, his free hand absorbs the thrust and prevents his head from crashing into the concrete wall.

Screeching from the vicious miss, Vincent loses it, What, you wanna play? I’ve wanted this for a long time, Mike, and now Mr. Rogers is back, you f****** lowlife.

Before Mike can regain his stance, Vincent seizes the blackjack and slams Mike’s hand with such force against the concrete wall, you can’t tell if the sound is from the weapon or a broken bone. And he doesn’t pause to find out, beating him with such ferocity and intensity, it takes all three buddies to pull him off a now pitiable punk, squealing like a stuck pig, Get him off me, get him off me. But where are Mike’s trusty thugs? Gone. Stupid, yes, but not too stupid not to go when the getting’s good. Crumpled up on the asphalt, like some broken contraption, disoriented and confused, Mike alone holds that title. In the ruckus, Vincent’s tux is barely ruffled. Only his right shoe is frayed, when his foot slipped off the edge of the stoop, to avoid being hit with the blackjack, and scraped the side of it. At the time, he didn’t notice it, and since the patent leather shoes were rented, there would be a fee.

Looking down at the now pitiful one, he says, I’m not going to waste words on you, dumb a**, f****** scum. Just get up. I said, get up or I’ll drag you’re a** inside and make a bigger fool of you than you’ve already made of yourself.

Though, he had no intention of the kind, it sure sounded good at the time, and why he forced the confrontation outside from making a scene and upsetting his sister’s once in a lifetime event. The fact is, almost every wedding came with another instance of a Mike Nussema indiscretion, emotional outburst, and violence, and Vincent isn’t going to let him, as he had the others, be the cause here. Jaded and lightheaded, he gets to his feet only to slip back against the side of the building. While Barry, Mike S. and Jon, stand a few feet back, keen to see what may happen next when, Tom and Adam, appear asking what’s happened but Barry waves them off with a, Later.

Even with that, Mike being Mike, just can’t keep his mouth shut, and wails, Big man, huh, with all these wimps to back you up?

With a sigh, he rejoins, The last time I looked, it’s me and you. Still is. You want more, Mikey boy? I got plenty.

Knowing what Mike’s capable of, Vincent grips him by the nose, jerks it, and with the heal of his hand, thumps his forehead, driving his head against the wall and bounces off it, like a basketball. The boys can’t help but laugh, is all the humiliation the fool can take to do something stupid again. He reaches for the blackjack beside him, no one thought to take away, and strikes Vincent in the upper chest area. But fortune is on his side, the thick leather wallet inside in the suit pocket, dulls the blow. Incredulous, his buddies stay back, waiting for Vincent to make the next move. And, in those split seconds, Mike takes the hiatus as an opportunity to high tail it, and scampers out of sight around the building. No, Vincent isn’t going after him and all go back inside as if nothing had happened. Returning to his table, Vincent finds Annette still chatting with Ronelle and Stella. Sam is with Barbara chatting with Great Uncle Frank, Mike’s father, who’s just come out of the kitchen, unaware of the happenings, amongst the staff making them laugh with his usual jokes, at the time.

Hey Vince, comes a voice a few feet away, you got a minute?

Hi Laraine, sure.

Thanks for inviting us. Would you mind, but Evelyn’s outside crying and I thought you could help me with her.

Sure, what happened?

Well, George stood her up.

Oh, I thought you were all coming together?

We were but George bailed out saying police dispatch was short of help and he was called in. It’s been hard since Paul broke it off for Sue, well, you know, she’s….

Yeah, I know, no need to explain. Come on, let’s see.

Evelyn’s sitting at a picnic table, on the opposite side of the building, and perks up a little when she sees them.

Hi Vince.

Hello Evelyn.

I need cuddles, if you don’t mind, I don’t know, I just get all broken up and….

Sure, come on, Laraine, let’s gather around and let’s give her some hugs.

In the quiet solitude, no one appears to be around. Except cousin, Vito Ozzato, around the corner on a park bench making out with Prima. For weeks on end, their notorious relationship is the talk around the family. Vito’s father and mother, Vito and Barbara Ozzato, Angie’s uncle and aunt, her mother’s sister, forbid the sexual liaison, as do Angie and Carmine. But the two youngsters find ways and it’s a good thing Vincent hasn’t seen them. Not that all the hoopla affects him, he just stays out, wanting nothing to do with it. Here, at Maggie’s wedding, though, that’s a different story. Again, no one wants any drama to prevail over the proceedings as Prima’s already becoming known as Drama Queen. So, no, he doesn’t see them but, oh, do they see him.

Prima knows her brother and Annette are an item and she’s there with her daughter. So, she whispers in Vito’s ear, what’s this with Vincent in an apparent threesome tryst, with Evelyn and Laraine, both of whom she’s met on several occasions. Why, she has no idea her brother is, like that. Understandably, Vito, from her twisted influence, is appalled too and, like the two kissing cousins would, they find it intriguing if not arousing. Through separate doors, they sneak back inside the building, with a hidden agenda. Not five minutes later, Miss Drama Queen, opens her act, going to her sisters and husbands, dancing alongside each other to the band’s rendition of The Carpenters’ Close to You. Precaution, not to mention discretion, is not Prima’s forte and injudiciously blathers what she just saw, upsetting the amorous occasion. Quite aware they’re in the middle of the dance floor and can bring unwanted attention upon them, Maggie and Susan, marshal Prima to the corner of the room. Incensed at her, they refuse to believe it. Susan lays into her, she has no business telegraphing such a thing on Maggie’s wedding night, and to mind her own business.

Undaunted, she continues to carry on the indiscretion to her mother and Carmine, sitting at a table with Aunt Vala and Uncle Festo, Uncle Chuck and Aunt Dena, Aunt Rose and, her second daughter and husband, Joanne and Clare Delbert, Vincent’s first cousins. Without hesitation, Aunt Rose, seeing the shame and definite exasperation on Angie’s face, grabs Prima by the arm to an empty table.

Prima, Prima, Prima, what in hell are you up to this time, ay? You stop this and stop it now. I know your brother better than I know any of you and, let me tell you something, you little hellion, you’d best mind your manners and get on with kids your own age and leave adults’ business to adults.

But I just thought people should know, that’s all.

"Yeah, I suppose, that’s called ‘I don’t mean any harm,’ ay? Let me tell you something about life and people, Little Miss Queen Drama: ‘He who seeks attention at the expense of others is an angry and bitter person. And you best pay heed to separate yourself from him or you may be the next victim.’ Capisce?"

Who said that?

"My brother, your father, that’s who."

My father?

You know, the one who raised you, gave you so much attention? Well, he d*** well sure, didn’t give you that! He would never have done this, even if he had good cause; he would have waited and not done it on his sister’s wedding day, you little s***.

Well, when dad made up his mind nothing could stop him.

Who the hell are you to instruct me about my brother? Do you know when to shut that trap of yours? You’re not listening and you don’t know what you’re talking about. My brother didn’t jump to conclusions and if you’re trying to justify what you’re doing as like your father, you are full of s***.

How can you say that? No one knew my daddy like me.

Well, we can agree on that. And I don’t mean it like you think I do. Do you imagine, can you even grasp, the stupidity of those words? Do you think you knew your father better than I did? Well, I guess that fits. Sam was the best of us, I always said. Prima, let me ask you, why do you think that is?

Why do I think what?

Sam was the best of the brothers and sisters.

Because he spoke his mind.

Of course, you’d say that and you’re wrong. Because he knew when not to.

When not to, when not to, what?

When not to speak his mind. He was solid. Balanced. Trusted. Relied on to think things through before he decided; not always but then who does? In practice, he was a man of restraint. And mostly, it turned out well. My brother held confidence like gold.

All I know I learned from him.

All that you know, I see. What about that all you do?

Same thing.

Yep, for you, they’re one and the same. All you know and do, uh-huh, can be traced back to him? He’s the reason why you think the way you do, know what you know, the things you do, the actions you take?

Yes, yes, and yes, yes.

Is that so?

It is, Aunt Rose.

Tell me, who is, which one?

Huh?

Which of the two fathers are you talking about?

What do you mean?

There has to be two of them, the real one, and the one in your swollen head.

My memory of daddy is as clear as anything.

I’m not talking about ‘memory,’ I’m talking about perception. The perception of what you remember and what you think about, both. I’m not talking about reality, I’m talking about your reality.

You mean, are you trying to say, I don’t see things, right?

What do you think?

What do I think about what?

What do you think about that?

I think, I’m the best of daddy; everyone knows it but they won’t admit it and…

You didn’t answer the question.

I don’t need to.

Right again. And that’s why you listen to the other father you create, stuck in your head, not the other one, certainly not my beloved Sam.

Prima starts erupting in tears, Oh, Aunt Rose, I miss him so much.

Unmoved, as much as knowing the sentiment is real, Rose gives a little leeway to the presumptuous and impulsive, though devious and dangerous, young teen.

I know, I know, we all do and you….

But no one more than me, no one, Aunt Rose. I don’t have anybody, only daddy. I was daddy’s everything and he was my everything and no one will ever separate us.

Who wants to? I don’t. I don’t want to separate you from your father but I want you to separate you from the other one in your head.

I don’t understand, you don’t make any sense. It’s still my daddy, don’t you see?

I do, oh, do I. My brother, Sam, is not, never was, what you conjure up in that balloon over your shoulders. So, you are admitting, then, you have two fathers?

What do you mean, not like that, like you do. It’s the voice. That’s how I know.

The voice?

Well, the voices. Daddy had different ways of saying different things.

I like your use voices, rather than just one voice.

You do?

And we’re back to the two of them. Uh-huh, you’re trying to confute the very idea, in the attempt to get off the main issue, little devil, and I’ll have none of it.

Whaddaya mean, the main issue, tell me, what is it? she challenges.

And there, you just keep it going…scroll back up to the top, where we started.

What? What are you saying?

"What I said a few minutes ago quoting my brother: ‘He who seeks attention at the expense of others is an angry and bitter person. And you best pay heed to separate yourself from him or you may be the next victim.’ It’s talking about you, Miss Troublemaker. You watch, keep your eye on the wise person for he, sooner or later, will want to get far away from you, for self-preservation. It’s going to happen if you don’t knock it off. And you’re still young enough to stop it. There was just one exception, one person, to Sam’s rule. Can you guess who?"

There’s just one…oh, you mean, Uncle Frankie?

You want to see yourself, see him. That’s what you’re becoming, Prima.

Well, f*** no, hell no, don’t you dare compare me with that g**d*** bastard.

And with that, Rose wallops her off the chair, Listen, you little hussy, my own daughters don’t talk to me like that and I’ll be d***** if you are.

Weeping, she runs into firm but loving arms, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Aunt Rose.

Amongst the din of people and lively music at the time, no one notices the one person who’s heard the whole thing. She goes into her purse, pulls out a notepad, and scribbles out a sketch of what she’s overheard, for the express purpose of sharing it with Vincent at a later and more appropriate time. Annette has done this for years, a shoebox of notepads, filled with such things, numbered, marked, and cataloged.

For the balance of night, Vincent and Annette dance, mix with others and, overall, it is one of the most cherished times of shared joy and affection of their budding romance.

CAN IT BE THE REAL THING? 56387.png

Love is an act of endless forgiveness,

a tender look which becomes a habit.

~ PETER USTINOV

At the wedding reception, there was no pretension; they were the genuine article. Whenever the idea would present itself for discussion, Vincent could see clues pointing to the prospect of husband and wife, the gateway of marital bliss. After tucking Chantelle in for the night, they relax on the sofa, until Annette slips over and sits on his lap. Like high school sweethearts they make out, smooching and necking, giggling and teasing, each other until it’s to the bedroom to make love. Just before going off to sleep, Vincent makes a passionate request, asking if she and Channie will go with him to Walden. She’ll really think about it.

The next morning, he knows what they had is more than a fling. It seems like the most natural thing in the world to spend the rest of their lives together. He wants to be a good daddy to Chantelle. He wants to give Annette all the love and respect she deserves, and he knows, just as well, it’ll return for she’s that kind of gal. And laughs at himself, picturing a 1940s-movie romance. If he had, Annette and Chantelle, in all the variegated and multitudinous ways fancied, he was bound to be a success in life. And he laughs again, wondering if it’s more like a romance of the 1930s.

Dreams can come true if you really want them. To believe he’s worth it is something new and dreaming with Annette makes it the more promising. The woman he’d always wanted and desired are in this person, so entirely, with her beside him there’s nothing he can’t do if he really wants to. By the same token, in his mind’s eye, there’s nothing she can’t do with him by her side and her dream is to become a model and he’ll be right there beside her.

He wants to give Chantelle the opportunity of getting everything she needs to be what she wants to be in the years ahead. Love and support, from her two caring parents, would undoubtedly give her the forte and confidence to be a happy woman, able to choose and get the man she’ll love, want, and need when that time comes, to help her succeed in whatever she aspires to. Yes, Vincent needs Chantelle to be happy and successful too.

The next few days is a comedy of errors and mystery of sorts, suddenly stopping in front of each other and staring as if to ask how much longer will this happy feeling go on, playing this tune together….

At the Punch and Judy Theatre in Gross Point, they see Benji; and one scene, shown in slowmo, stands out where Benji’s running for help. The dog is pictured experiencing flashbacks about those he loves and cares about and needs to rescue from real danger. Done with aesthetic taste, it’s an emotion-packed tear-jerking sequence and, consequently, they talk about it. For Vincent, it’s especially poignant how Annette, in the spirit and theme of the movie, relishes in sharing her impressions. Something deeper, something personal, something special, is there; he’ll do anything and everything, no matter what, to keep them safe and safe from real danger. To him, that Benji scene is symbolic of the depth of his need for Queen and Little Princess to be with him for, surely, he is with them.

Meeting Annette’s parents is a next big step she’s getting serious about their relationship or certainly would not have arranged such an event. He drives them to Marine City and enjoy a supreme meal together at a cozy little café named Dan’s. Vincent’s wants her parents, on some level, to see something good in him for their daughter’s and granddaughter’s lives. It appears the impression he wants to depict came across well. In the end, there’s a degree of acceptance and that’s good. No doubt, they are reputable people, not unlike his own parents, stimulating, congenial, likeable, and fun to be with. Annette’s prettiness and allure comes from her father’s side, while Annette’s sister, Linda, has a strong resemblance to their mother, where Chantelle takes after her father, rather than Annette. Hmmm. All in all, it’s a good day.

That evening reveals another indication of her devotion to him, and a welcome surprise, when she clears out a dresser drawer for his belongings so that, she delicately explains, they’re no longer left lying around. And later, settling in bed, asks can she read more of his book. He admits being afraid of the prospect but yes, per chance, her reading about his feelings, comments, impressions, and observations the past couple days, pages long, will move her come to Camp Walden.

While deep in thought, she puts the journal on the dresser with the look of desire, he’s known so well and he gazes at her, wearing the winter white, truffle knit chenille robe. She runs one hand through her wavy blonde neck-length hair and with the other hand she slowly untied the belt and slightly spreads it open to reveal an elegant silk champagne negligée. And if that isn’t more surprising than the dresser drawer thing, next is the fruit of her total experience with him in the words:

"Okay, you, gorgeous man, it’s you and me. Let’s go to Camp Walden, Vince."

What? What did you say? he replies, with his signature, stupefied look, and she responds with her own signature, melodious hum-like sensual giggle, and glides toward him, slips off the robe, tosses it behind her, and coquettishly slides under the sheets. What a time they have…oh, yes, it’s only getting better.

First thing in the morning, he calls COPRIN to discover his chances are good getting a cabin, for not many have registered. A little later, upon Annette’s inquiry, he tells her the charge for Chantelle is $49 and $248 for her and will gladly take care of the cost. Somewhat uncomfortable with the arrangement, she replies she’ll cover their way. But he’s fervent, knowing the combined cost is above what she can comfortably afford but he can and is excited to do.

The next day, good sense comes back not to be a spendthrift, a term often used derogatorily in his growing years; to be sensible and reliable with what he has and never outspend his income. He makes some calculations in his head in what he’ll need including his own expense for Walden, at $233.50, plus living expenses from now to then, and then calculates what people owe him: Tom: $90; Adam: $62.50; Barry: $155; Mark $26, all of whom, say they will pay him in time for Walden.

All’s well and good and then… the old script returns, acting out with Annette at The Bijou. Acutely seeing it for what it is, she calls him on it in such a caring way, as hard as his defiance is, he hears it and appreciates her words. Man, what a woman.

Yet, for all that, the old script isn’t done. Within the week, he’s making oversights and not small ones, the sort he hasn’t done in a long while, not making sure customers properly endorse their charge slips. Pissed and disappointed, Payovich calls him over.

I was informed by accounting you have two more f*** ups! If you aren’t careful you’re going to get burned and find it coming out of your pocket. Get it together, son.

Distressed, he doesn’t want to let Mike down, Arthur’s words come to mind.

Often effects bother you far more than anyone else’s does, preventing you from enjoying life. Don’t make such a big deal of them, over and above the good news is, it’s also a preventive, keeping you from those mistakes. Take them as they are, not more of what they’re not.

As if answering, upon the instructive reflection, he murmurs under his breath.

Well, g**d***, it does bother me. Cursed unconscious, telling me I’m not worth enough, especially now, when the last thing I need is to be a victim of my own doing, creating a financial difficulty, mounting bills, and letting down my boss. I’m fighting against myself, fighting against making it, finding me getting burned? Hell no.

No question, a pattern’s emerging in screw ups at The Bijou. And acting out over his feelings for Annette and the need to stay ahead of financial debt, he needs to address. Tomorrow’s groups can’t come fast enough. His inattentiveness is fighting achievement and, as Tom had been abreast of it, he confides in him.

I’m feeling so good, things are going so well, better than ever. What am I to do about it, do with me, when life is going so well? Is it simply to feed into the old rut of a bad feeling trip, what’s in store for me? I’m sick to death of this loser script.

Vincent’s wise to utilize all three groups that Thursday, expressing his mistakes and frustrations, fears and disappointment in himself, not wanting to mess up a good thing, both with Annette and at The Bijou. At the end of a long and arduous day, given the energy expended, mental fatigue, and emotional exhaustion, unlike anything he can recall in recent memory, he should be completely drained. But he isn’t and buys Annette a large bouquet of roses and goes straight to her apartment to deliver them. The sheer thrill of presenting them to her, revitalizes and invigorates him, even after her own long day selling World Book Encyclopedias, door to door, and serving drinks at The Bijou, and in the sweet and generous surprise, she receives it, in kind.

Snuggling up on the sofa, Annette effusively supports him to seriously consider theatre, in Detroit, and what better time than now. He’s enthralled. No one has, let alone a woman, connected with him in that way, including all the work done in therapy and encouragement there. But maybe, it’s all to prepare him for this, for her, for Annette?

I would like to go to my agent next Tuesday and inquire how to get you started in commercials and to my photographer for a setting to make composite for you, okay?

You, what? Yowie, Annette, oh yes, let’s do it.

The next day, proposed to be a near record day of Michigan heat and humidity, at mid-morning, they’re at the swimming pool to share more about past lives. A couple near them have their radio on low but when Afternoon Delight by Starland Vocal Band is playing, the other couples, mostly their age, ask them to turn it up.

After a light lunch, they go to, sister Linda’s, yard sale. As they’re leaving, Chan asks cab she stay and play with her friends. Looking to Linda for the okay, Annette approves, and Vincent ruminates, Man, what an ideal opportunity to go home and make a little afternoon delight!" But he doesn’t say anything, since they have plans at the Oakland Mall to check out sales in men’s clothing, Annette’s been encouraging for some time, and fancies the experience. When they arrive, they find the sidewalk sale ended the day before and rather than stay and look around choose to postpone the outing.

Back at her apartment, he still hasn’t alluded to his desire as they go into separate bathrooms to brush teeth and freshen up. When finished he notices the bedroom door is closed, wondering, Can she, could she have the same thing in mind? He strolls through the hall across the living room and peeks into the kitchen to see if she’s there. Nope. Yes, she must be in the bedroom, alright. Approaching her door, he calls out, Yoo-hoo. Coyly, he walks in to find a voluptuous Annette amorously sprawled across the bed. The sheet is draped partially over her, but her eyes are what captivates him most, the look of desire a man sees only in dreams. Was it the lighting, mood, the sky, having suddenly grown overcast, and the erotic shading in the room, enhancing the tone? She flickers her eyes and then, from under the covers, exposes a foot and slowly wiggled her toes. How much more can a make take? Entranced, he flies to her and share the greatest, Afternoon Delight.

Later, just before work, he and Mike S., have a brief discussion about their women, expressing, almost in unison, She is the woman of my dreams.

It all makes so much sense, Mike, the more Annette and I are with each other. Our goals are kind of tied together, you know?

Yeah, I have the same thing with Stella. It was different with every other woman I’ve known, almost like we’re in some quixotic affair.

Ha-ha, ain’t that the truth? The woman of my dreams is the man of her dreams.

Yep. I know, Vince, how great it is to have the single finest dream come true.

One thing, emphatically new for me, is owning my feelings for someone else and with Annette I did that, you know, it at the wedding reception. Did you….

Oh, yeah, I saw it.

People could see it, Mike, you could tell it on their faces.

Yeah, well, I’m sure you saw it on my face, too, you ole dago? I’m telling you, Vince, you were out there, open for all to see. That was a first for me, seeing you like that. I know, if it was like that for me, man, what must it have been like for your family? I’ll bet it blew their minds.

Really? Someone told me ma was happy to see me like that was, you know, who?

I do; Annette.

Now, how about that?

It must have been something, alright. I know I need to do more work on mom and dad issues, if I’m to really get it on with Stella, and eventually have a family.

Check that one for me too, Mike, I’ve got lots of work to do in that area, sure.

That week he wrote:

What can I say? What can be said?

I don’t believe I’ve ever been so

Happy and glad.

Steps away lay the joy

Of my life.

A gem of a woman

She stands alone,

I can say I can see one day

Wants to be my wife.

My head reels at the thought of this;

Yet still I get higher and higher

The more I let myself feel it.

Yes, there are no words

To surely describe

My feelings inside.

And it’s so funny

That I have no need

To find these words –

Simply because

That these feelings

Are a ride.

All the things in my head

That have kept me

From feeling what I need

Are fast disappearing

Thanks to psychotherapy

(my friends and their deeds).

Annette, my darling,

I love you so.

Chantelle, little sweetie,

From you I want never to go.

Before me My life is

Opening and, golly gee,

I mean to let it grow.

We’ll see!

When Vincent was a youngster, it felt so good to come in from a damp, chilly, gray and windy afternoon, and have a hot bowl of soup and crackers. Little else seemed more appealing. It was a finer feeling and a feeling of home. It’s the feeling he has now with Annette when she, in any way, takes care of him, everything. In that way, like a fairy godmother, it was a blend of two things: One, things actual; two, things emotional, coalescing to help him do what he needs to do for himself and he writes:

A beautiful woman

A musical composition

Annette oh Annette

Sweetness of my life

Musical compositions

Are but chauffeurs

To you in song.

With you there is

Rhyme there is

Rhythm there is

Reason there is

Roota toot-toot

Rata tat-tat

Skiddle dee doodle

I love you as

Big as that!

Your smile to me

Is like the birth

Of a new morn.

I am okay with you.

You are okay

With me,

My Queen Adorned.

TIDE OF ADJUSTMENTS 56387.png

The need to be in control is the fear of being out of control.

Being careful and cautious creates resistance. When you let go

of that control you experience a greater sense of freedom.

~ PER BRISTOW

When Annette met with her modeling agent, Mary, over the possibility of getting Vincent into script reading, she got him an appointment that week. Expecting him, as usual, to come home right after work and so excited to tell him the good news, he doesn’t show. Early on, it doesn’t bother her, reasoning, some customers may have stayed longer and he can’t leave until the bill’s paid. Still, he can ask another waiter to take over until