I.
Lucy sighed nervously as she stepped out of the cab in front of the hotel, a thick envelope of paperwork under her arm. She turned to watch the cab pull away, almost wishing that she hadn't gotten out of it.
She walked gingerly into the lobby, her sling-back heels resonating against the marble floor. She turned, looking for the front desk, and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored wall. She was dressed in black from the delicate hat on her head to the form fitting jacket and pencil skirt she wore. She hadn't consciously meant to wear black clothing, she mused, but it felt appropriate. Indeed, she felt that she was experiencing a sort of death.
Lucy was shaken from her thoughts by the voice of a young man at the desk nearby. "Excuse me, miss, is there anything I can help you with?"
She walked over to the desk, her voice quiet. "I'm here to see Mr. Ricky Ricardo, please."
The man nodded, looking down in front of him. "Yes, Mr. Ricardo is in room 320. Would you like me to let him know that you're here?"
Lucy shook her head. "No, no. I'll just go, he's expecting me. Where are the elevators?"
The man pointed gently down the hallway to his right. "Right down this way."
"Thank you." She walked toward the bank of elevators and pushed the button to call one, building her courage.
II.
Ricky sat at the edge of the bed, staring out the large window in front of him and smoking a cigarette. He'd been smoking habitually since the day he left the apartment. Even at this moment, the ash tray on the night table was full of smoldering butts.
When Lucy had called earlier, it was the one bright spot that he'd experienced in the past week that they'd been separated. He had tried to talk to her for days, but she wouldn't allow it. So when he heard her voice on the line that morning, he thought that finally she had come to her senses and they could put their awful fight behind them. His hopes had been dashed when she said that she had papers for him to sign and wanted to bring them to him. She hung up before he could say much more than a choked out "alright."
He wasn't even sure what time she'd arrive, so he'd spent his time since then smoking, waiting and remembering. He thought back to that night the previous week, when he'd returned home from a late rehearsal. He had found his wife sitting on the couch in the dimly lit living room, her legs and arms crossed. He'd raised his eyebrows to see her in a formal gown at three-thirty in the morning, her hair gorgeously curled and her beautifully painted lips set in a hard line. She had looked at him coldly and reminded him that he'd promised to be home early for the party they'd been invited to. He had tried to apologize, but between his long stints away from home on tour and one too many late nights, it seemed that Lucy had had enough.
They fought ferociously that night, with Lucy telling him that she wished she'd never married a bandleader and Ricky telling her that he wished he'd married a Cuban girl who would just do as he says.
In his testosterone-fueled righteousness, Ricky left, with Lucy, in her strong-willed feminine rage, telling him not to come back.
He was snapped back to the present when he heard a soft rap at the door. He rose, snuffing out his current cigarette and started for the door.
III.
Lucy stood at the door, waiting for Ricky to open it. She tried to steady her breathing. She hadn't seen him since he'd left that night last week. He'd tried to call her repeatedly and she knew of at least one time that he'd tried to see her at the apartment. But in her stubbornness, she rebuffed him. In public, she presented a strong front, acting indifferent to her husband's absence. Behind closed doors, she missed him terribly and regretted their fight. At the same time, she felt justified in her anger at him and it disallowed her from welcoming him home with open arms. She realized, while staring at the door, that she had been avoiding him only because she knew she was not strong enough to resist him. She tried now to channel the steel resolve that her mother had tried to instill in her.
The door opened slowly and she saw him for the first time in many days. Ever handsome as he was, he looked tired and withdrawn. All the same, his eyes seemed to spark when he saw her. He was casually dressed in slacks and a white shirt, a pack of cigarettes tucked into the cuff of his sleeve.
"Hello," she said stiffly, trying to calm her voice. For all her anger, she was happy to see him.
"Hi," he replied, stepping aside. "Come in."
Ricky watched her walk past him into the room and his heart skipped a beat. She was stunning and he'd missed her so much. He bit his lip, unable to reconcile the sight of the wedding ring that she still wore as she held what he assumed was a request for a divorce in her fingers.
Now standing in the center of the room, Lucy turned to face Ricky. She took the papers out of the envelope that she carried, holding them out for him to take from her. "I won't stay long. I think…I think we both want this, so if you sign, it'll be done."
He looked at the papers in her outstretched hand, noticing the slightest quivering of her arm. He took them from her and looked at them, becoming almost lightheaded at the realization that if they both signed this thing, she would no longer be his. He blinked when he got to the last page. She hadn't even signed it herself. He looked back at her confidently and dropped the pages onto the nearby table with a thud. "Is this what we both want?"
Lucy's heart pounded so that she was sure he heard it. "It's what we said, isn't it?"
His face fell as he heard his own words ringing in his ears. "I din't mean that. I been tryin' to tell you all week that I'm sorry."
She pretended that her feet were nailed to the floor. It was the only way she could keep from running to him. "You're never home, Ricky. You must mean it because your work means so much more to you than I do."
Ricky was pained. "You know that isn't true."
Lucy became indignant. "Do I?"
He walked closer to her, dying to touch her, to draw her into his arms. He didn't lay a finger on her, but he was close enough to catch the scent of her soft perfume. "Lucy, you mean everythin' to me. You're the only thin' that matters to me. I work because I wanna give the whole world to you."
She fought tears from forming in her eyes and she tried to will her racing heart to slow its pace. "I don't WANT the whole world. I want…" She stopped. She was so angry at herself for so easily giving in. She refused to give him the satisfaction. "I….I want a divorce."
Ricky shook his head. "No you dun't. You want me and I want you."
Lucy's breathing quickened. He was right. She wanted him and she wanted his arms to be around her. She tried to back away from him, to regain her resolve, but she couldn't move. "I can't have you. The world has you, your band has you, the club has you. But I don't have you."
He softened. This had gone too far. He had only wanted to be successful. It was the only thing that was on his mind when he came to New York. But then Lucy entered his life and no amount of success would be worth losing her. "Oh, Lucy. Honey…I promise you, if you forget this divorce business, I'll cut back on the tours and I'll make more time for you. Please. I promise."
Ricky moved closer to her, his hands teasing her waist, threatening to pull her toward him. She began to waver, her voice shaking. "I thought you wanted a Cuban girl."
"No. I want a red-blooded, stubborn, gorgeous red-headed American girl." He laughed softly when she tried to hide her smile. "An' I know you want a talented, handsome Cuban," he joked.
"How do you know, you ham?"
Ricky deepened his gaze into her eyes. "You're still wearin' your ring."
Lucy looked down at her hand. She didn't think he'd notice, but she hadn't been able to take it off as much as she tried. She couldn't fight the tears any longer and they rolled down her cheeks. "Do you really promise, Ricky?"
He smiled gently, raising a hand to the side of her face and softly wiping tears away from her cheek. "I promise, honey, I really do," he whispered. "I can't stop goin' on tour altogether, but I promise not to go away so often and I won't stay away for so long."
She sniffed. "And I don't want to sit home all night waiting for you when you say that you'll be home early."
Ricky looked at her sincerely. "It wun't happen again. I'm sorry. Will you gimme another chance?"
Lucy nodded. "Yes." She glanced at the papers that sat on the table where Ricky had left them. In an instant, she was in disbelief that she had carried their argument so far. She had never wanted a divorce, she just wanted her husband to feel what she had been feeling. But once she'd started, her pride wouldn't allow her to back down. "I'm sorry, Ricky. I was wrong, will you please come home?"
He smiled and turned back toward the papers on the table. He picked up the sheet at the top of the pile, the one on which their signatures would've sealed their intent to separate. "What about this," he teased.
She took it from him and tore it in half. "What about what?"
Lucy gasped softly as Ricky pulled her into his arms, the ripped paper floating to the floor at their feet. He paused before joining his lips with hers. "Can I come home?"
"Yes, I need you to come home, I need you in our bed," she responded in an urgent whisper, abandoning any trace of wanting to separate from him.
"You'll have me at home, in our bed, but first you'll have me in this one."
When finally Ricky's lips landed against Lucy's in a long kiss that was at once desperately full of desire and relief, she wrapped her arms around his neck as though he were the only thing that could keep her from falling to the floor.
He turned with her in his arms and moved her backward until the backs of her legs bumped the foot of the bed. She fell back like a willing rag doll, bouncing softly onto the blanketed mattress.
Ricky hovered over her as he kissed her again, his tongue moving with hers in a way that foreshadowed the way in which their bodies would soon move together. In an act that was reflective of his growing passion, Ricky's hands grabbed ahold of the delicate blouse that Lucy wore under her open jacket and he tore it open with primitive animalism.
Lucy didn't have time to care about the now ruined garment, from which the buttons hit the carpeted floor with such force that they made a sound where they landed. She was too preoccupied by her husband's hands as they grasped her breasts and yanked away the thin lace that covered them. His roughness caused that, too, to rip softly and she found, quite to her surprise, that the sound itself excited her further.
She arched her back with a whimper as Ricky released her lips and his tongue's attention moved to one of her nipples. She kicked off her heeled shoes and they each fell to the floor with a thud as she raised her knees around him, her skirt quickly riding up to expose her thighs as he moved between them.
Lucy bit her lip as she felt Ricky's hardened shaft grind against her as it fought against his slacks and her ivory panties. "The judge tried to tell me not to come here to meet you…he warned me not to sleep with you," she said with breathless defiance.
Ricky matched her defiant tone by reaching his hand between her thighs. "Go back and tell that judge that I did this." He pulled on the dainty fabric that shielded her from him and tore it away.
A fresh surge of moisture throbbed through her. "I don't think he's going to like that," she laughed, already straining her hips toward him in her readiness.
Ricky lowered himself until their lips were separated only by a hair's breath. He tugged her lower lip between his teeth as he opened his pants forcefully and freed his pulsing erection. "Well, he's really gonna hate this, then."
He entered her savagely, his thickness filling her as she tightened around him. "Eres mio. Siempre seras mio."
Lucy cried out with every deep thrust as he struck the innermost core of her desires with each entry. She reached up to run her hands along his chest as he pulled his shirt over his head and cast it to the floor without interrupting his steady rhythm within her.
Ricky's fingers grazed her breasts, leaving a sensitive tingle in his wake and causing her nipples to become so taught that her skin ached. The pink, puckered skin was a temptation to him and he lowered himself again to take one into his mouth as he continued his hard strokes into her hot, wet flesh.
As her cries became more desperate for their approaching climax, he raised her hips with his hands and unleashed the full length of his manhood to her, with all the strength he could exert upon her without hurting her.
Lucy bucked against him as orgasm coursed through her veins and the release of Ricky's passion flooded the depths of her body.
They fought to catch their breath as Ricky moved slowly to lay next to Lucy, her thighs closing together as he departed from them. She reached up to touch his face as he looked at her, and he became troubled when he noticed fresh tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Ricky, I was so stupid and too proud to put a stop to it," she choked.
"What…that?" He made a halfhearted motion toward the papers across the room.
Lucy nodded.
Ricky smiled and again wiped the large tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes. "Aw, honey, forget it. Listen…" He leaned closer to her face and kissed the tip of her nose. "If you think that my career is more important than you, then I'm doin' somethin' wrong. Now, I made a promise and I'm gonna keep it. What's important is that I'm comin' home."
She grinned, lovingly pushing a curl of black hair away from his forehead. "Will you come home today?"
He nodded. "We'll go together."
IV.
Lucy was putting Ricky's clean laundry into the dresser when the phone rang. As she was reaching to answer it, she heard him call out to let her know he'd gotten it. She turned back to the dresser and closed the drawer, pausing as she listened to his voice while he talked to the caller. It had been two weeks since they'd reconciled and Ricky had come back home. In the days that followed his return, she'd gone to see the judge to formally request that the divorce she had started be stopped. It seemed to her that he had expected that she would bring him this news, saying simply that he was glad before dismissing her from his chambers.
She wandered from the bedroom and into the living room, where Ricky sat at the desk with his back to her, still speaking on the phone. She stood behind the couch, a smile crossing her lips as she listened.
Ricky scribbled on a pad in front of him. "No, Jerry, I told you, I'm not goin' on any tour until the fall. I'm spendin' the summer home. And if you're gonna book a tour in the fall, it's for no more than a week. Yes, October is fine. Alright." He tapped the tip of his pencil on the pad as Jerry spoke hurriedly to him. "Well, I dun't care, if he wants me and my orchestra, that's the rules. Unless he wants to gimme a long-term contract and gimme my price, then I'll move my band AND my wife out there for a few months. But he's not gonna do that, so he'll hafta be happy with a week. That's what I thought. Alright, goodbye, Jerry."
As he hung up the phone, he turned around and smiled, noticing his Lucy standing behind him. "Hi, honey. Done with the laundry?"
Lucy nodded. "Yes." She walked around the couch leaned over to kiss Ricky, grateful for her inability to resist him.