TCOT Deadly Toy Extended Ch. 11

Della Street sat at her dining room table. She was shaken to her core and in complete shock … her eyes red and swollen. It had taken every ounce of her strength just to set the lunch tray down on her desk, grab her purse, and take the elevator down to the lobby of the Brent Building. She felt as though she was going to pass out. She could hardly breathe. She was shaking so violently she didn't think she would be able to hail a cab. She hoped no one she knew would see her in this condition and tell Perry. She was able to walk out the front door, without being noticed and walked a half a block away before stopping and leaning against the window of Macys. A few minutes later, she climbed into a cab, gave the cab driver her address and, as she sat in the back seat, she began to formulate a plan. She knew there was only one choice to make, and that she would have to be strong and in control if she was going to pull it off. Once back in her apartment, Della allowed herself to break down. First, she berated herself for not walking into Perry's office and telling him everything. Perry loved her … she loved him. He was always so understanding … so loving … so caring. She pictured herself explaining the whole story to him. He would have then taken her in his arms, kissed her and told her that everything would be fine. They would be in this together. He would have quieted her and comforted her and she would have felt that unbelievable feeling of love and peace wash over her. As soon as these thoughts came into her head, they went right out and other thoughts … thoughts of a different kind flooded her mind. Perry trusted her completely. They had no secrets from each other … none until now. If she told him the truth, would he feel the same way about her? How would that affect their relationship? What would he think of her? Della felt as if she was Alice in Wonderland and she was falling … falling into that hole. Only this wasn't a Fairy Tale. This was real and that hole was a bottomless black pit … one from which there was no return. At that moment, Della's reserve faded and she broke down. Deep gut wrenching sobs racked her body and she fell across the sofa … lying there until there were no more tears left to shed. For a little while, she just lay there, to numb to think or to act. Finally, she got up, went into the kitchen and got a glass of water. She then opened the bottom left hand draw and pulled out her personal address book. She took the book and the box of tissues that were on the shelf over the sink and brought them to the table. She went back into the kitchen, got the glass of water and picked up the phone. She brought them to the table as well and sat down on one of the crème colored cushioned chairs. For just a moment, she closed her eyes and prayed that what she was about to do would make everything right. She took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

The Ambassador Hotel was one of the grandest in Los Angeles. Known for its classic, stately appearance, the magnificent 500 room hotel was the largest in the city. Built in 1921 by famed architect, Myron Hunt, the hotel stood on a four block area starting on Wilshire Blvd. and continuing to wrap itself around to 8th Street, Catalina Street and Mariposa Avenue. The famous Coconut Grove Theater was built inside the hotel and was home to such stars as Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland and Louis Armstrong. Political figures also held meetings at the hotel and it was known as the Western Whitehouse to Presidents Roosevelt, Truman, and Eisenhower.

Della stood outside the hotel, looking at its majestic beauty. She wanted to get herself in control so she would be able to handle the situation in which she was about to place herself. She forced herself to remain calm and collected. She thought about the reason she was here. "I have to do this," she told herself. "It's the only way." Straightening her shoulders and preparing herself for what was to come, she gave a small smile and a soft thank you to the doorman. She walked into the breathtaking lobby, looked for the elevators and walked towards them. When the elevator came to a halt in the lobby, the door opened and Della stepped inside. She told the operator she needed the 4th floor. The door closed and Della leaned against the wall pole for support. In less than a minute, they were on the requested floor. The operator opened the door and Della stepped out. She found the sign that would take her to suite 418. Della walked down the brightly lit, beautifully decorated corridor, complete with oriental rugs, marble tables and vases of gorgeous and colorful spring flowers. The length of the walk from the elevator to the designated room was not far, but Della felt if she had been walking for hours. Her whole body felt like lead. She found herself in front of suite 418. With trepidation and her heart in her throat, Della knocked at the door. Immediately, it was opened by a man who smiled at her and extended his hand. Della did not extend hers, but simply walked into the suite and the door closed.

"I must say, Della, I was certainly surprised when you phoned. I always knew you were nothing if not tenacious. Calling back home to track me down was sheer genius. It is wonderful to see you again. May I offer you some refreshments? Perhaps some lunch? A drink? I could get you whatever you wish." Michael Domenico stared at Della as though he was seeing her for the first time.

Della stood in front of him. She hadn't seen him in years … 18 to be exact. Her family and Michael's family had been neighbors and friends. She often would babysit her brother Jimmy and Michael's nephew, Tony. Michael was 2 years older than Della. He had gone to college and had a reputation of being something of a lady's man. The girls were all crazy about him and it was easy to see why. Tall, with dark hair and dark brown eyes, he could have easily passed for a young James Dean or Robert Wagner. He was cool, confident and, according to Della's mother and the rest of the ladies in the neighborhood, "quite a catch." He and Della were thrown together at many family functions, but they had started to date in earnest when Della graduated from high school. Della had gone to work for one of her father's friends and, a year later, she and Michael became engaged. In the beginning, everything was wonderful. Then, 2 months before the wedding, Della told Michael that she wanted to continue to work after they married. She loved her job. She was good at what she did and her boss had suggested that she even go to business school. When she approached Michael with the idea, she thought he would have been pleased. Instead, all hell broke loose. Michael told her that ,not under any circumstances, would she be allowed to work once they were married. Also, the idea of business school was completely out of the question as well. Della was expected to stay home, do all the things women did to keep house, and then they would have children. This was not a request, but an order. Michael told her it would be this way. She was not to embarrass him or his family by bringing it up again and the decision … his decision was final. Della started to explain to him why this was so important to her, but Michael would have none of it. They had gotten into a terrible fight and then he did the unthinkable …he hit her. He took her by the arm and held her so tightly she cried out in pain. That had angered him even more and his true nature, complete with a wicked temper, had emerged. The more she cried, the harder he hit. It didn't matter where he struck … her arm … her sides … her face. At that moment, Jimmy and Tony came home. Their shouting had been enough to stop Michael cold. Della looked at him for a moment that seemed suspended in time. She was in shock … not believing what had just taken place. Michael, realizing what he'd done, tried to stop her from leaving, but she was out the door in a flash. She ran down the block to her own house and didn't even stop in the kitchen to speak with her mother. When her parents found out about the incident, they tried to sit down with her and Michael, but she wouldn't do it. She returned the ring … telling him she couldn't go through with it. She told him that she realized she was too young and that they wanted different things. She refused his calls, the flowers, the gifts, and his visits. A month after the break up, she packed and, with strict instructions to her parents and brother not to let anyone know where she was going, she left for business school in Los Angeles. About six months later, she came home for a visit. By this time, she was working for a temp agency and going to school. Michael had tried to see her, but she wouldn't give him a chance. She went back to school, graduated at the top of her class and took a job with a big law firm. She worked her way up from the secretarial pool and then became an assistant to two of the lawyers. She stayed with them for a few years until she met one of the firm's youngest lawyers. He was soon starting his own practice and needed a secretary … a private, confidential secretary. Her supervisor recommended Della and the young attorney arranged for her to come in for an interview. Della had heard quite a bit about this attorney from the girls in the steno pool. She was a bit nervous on the day of the interview. She stood in front of his office door and started to go in. At that moment, the door to the office opened from the inside and there stood Perry. Della took one look at him and was dumbstruck. What she didn't know was that Perry had felt the same way. He had taken one look at this beautiful young woman and vowed never to let her get away. She remembered him telling her the story a few weeks after they had admitted their love for one another.

Now, as Della stood in front of Michael, the realization of why she was here came back to her. Somehow, knowing she was doing this for Perry, helped her to remain calm and to deal with the issue at hand. She looked at Michael and began to speak. Her voice held no warmth. Her eyes were dull and she seemed to be someone completely different. "Michael, I am only here for one reason and one reason only. What do you want with the Carter's?"

Michael looked at her and a smirk came over his face. "Della, for someone so bright, I can't believe you don't know the real reason."

"The real reason for what?"

"Why you, of course, you my sweet Della … you are the reason. You were the reason the whole time. I don't care about the Carter's. What happens to them is of no consequence to me. The entire scenario with Mr. Carter was a ruse. You see, when Alex brought them to my home, I knew where they lived. What I didn't know was that your boss or should I say your lover was his attorney." He looked at Della to see if he could gauge her reaction … perhaps get a rise out of her, but Della didn't flinch. Michael continued with his explanation. "Then, thanks to his wife, I found out that you were , shall we say, 'working together'. So, I did a little more digging and I found out everything I wanted to know. How I could get to see you. You realize that I am going to have you? That it was the plan all along? I must say, I think my plan is rather ingenious, don't you?"

Della suddenly felt sick. The room began to spin and she had to keep her hand on the arm of the chair to steady herself. When she had gathered herself, she looked at Michael and said, "You don't really think that I would let you frame Mike? That I would go off with you to prevent such a thing from happening to him and his family?"

"Oh, I know you wouldn't let me frame an innocent person … you and your Mr. Mason. You are so noble…such high moral standards…such integrity. Well, now I will have my revenge and the girl."

"If you think that…" Michael put his hand up to interrupt her. Very quietly yet forcefully he said, " I know you will come around to my way of thinking … that is if you want your precious, darling Mr. Mason to live."

The 1st class section of flight 647 was relatively quiet. The passengers had been fed and now most of them were either reading, dozing, or talking quietly. The stewardesses were going up and down the aisle, making sure all was well and that everyone's needs were being taking care off.

Julie, the head stewardess was concerned. The beautiful young woman in seat 7C had been crying for quite a while now. She had refused any food and had asked only for a ginger ale. She looked pale and she was visibly shaken. She wasn't certain if the man traveling with her was her husband. If he was, then they didn't seem to be too happy. The gentleman spoke only when Julie or Susan had asked him a question. It seemed that when he would try to talk to the young woman, she would turn away.

Della sat with her face turned toward the window, tears streaming down her face. Up until the moment when she boarded the plane, she thought that Michael was playing a cruel joke on her and would tell her that it was all a mistake and that she could go back to Perry. 'Oh Perry, Perry my darling. I am so sorry. Will you ever be able to forgive me? I hope one day you will…that you will know I only did this to save you … I had no choice. When I went to see Michael, I didn't know that this was his plan…I thought he was framing Mike for some reason. I have to get a message to you somehow … but then you'll want to come get me and take me home … and that's what he wants … I can't allow that. I won't take a chance with your life.' The thought of never seeing Perry again brought a fresh set of tears.

Michael heard Della crying. Even though he had been curt and somewhat forceful with her, he still had some feelings left. It wasn't love. She'd killed that the day she broke up with him. Eighteen years was a long time and, although he had never forgotten how she had humiliated him, he still had some measure of feeling towards her. He turned to her and tried to take her arm.

Della recoiled at his touch. She felt trapped. There was nowhere for her to run or to hide. She wanted and needed only one man. She closed her eyes and tried to picture Perry in her mind … the two of them working together, the late night dinners and dancing, just staying in and cuddling … how Perry's touch on her skin set her body on fire … his gentle and tender caresses … his kisses that left her weak and dizzy … making love to her and then holding her in his strong arms…her feeling so safe and protected as she slept in his arms … their bodies so close. She had told him one night how she felt, how wonderful he made her feel. Now, it looked as though all of that would be gone.

"Della, I'm sorry you're so upset. Can I ring for the stewardess to get you something? How are you feeling?"

Della turned and looked at him with a dull, blank stare. When she spoke, her voice was as flat and as cold as ice. "Michael, you want to know how I feel? I'm completely disgusted with you. I never thought you would become this kind of person. You have no heart … no feeling. If it makes you feel better thinking that it's my fault, then go ahead and blame me. But let's get something straight right now. Let me make myself crystal clear so there is no misunderstanding. I came with you to save Perry's life. He is the only man I have ever loved and he will be the only man I will ever love for the rest of my life. Even if he finds me and doesn't want me back, I will love him until the day I die. He is and always will be my one true love. He is my soul. He is my life. What we have together is very real and no one can ever take it away or replace it. I will never love you and I will never, never let you touch me. You want me to marry you? A trade…my life for Perry's? I said I would do it, but know this: It will be a marriage in name only. I want nothing from you and you are to expect nothing from me. That's how I feel. I feel sick to my stomach…you make me sick."

Della's words cut him to his core. Suddenly, the pain and humiliation he felt all those years ago came flooding back to the surface. His eyes flashed with a hellish blaze Della had not seen since that night he'd hit her over and over again. He placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her tightly to him. As he did so, he dug his fingers into her shoulder causing her to wince with pain. In a low voice only she could hear, he spoke into her ear. His breath was hot on her skin. "I don't care if you ever love me Della because I certainly don't love you … not anymore, but this is payback." He tightened his grip and Della could feel the stinging in her skin that would later show itself as finger shaped bruises. "You made a fool out of me and no one does that. You're going to come home. You're going to marry me just like we planned all those years ago and everyone will see it was you who made the mistake… you who could not stay away from me…you who came to your senses after all this time and found your way back to me. We will be the love story that the whole neighborhood will talk about for years. And, yes, you will be a wife to me in every way that a woman is a wife to a husband. You will not refuse me on our wedding night nor will you refuse me on any night I want you or there will be hell to pay … first for you … and then for your beloved Mr. Mason. You will bear my children and become the wife I always wanted and knew you could be, do you understand?"

As a fresh set of tears ran down her face and a wave of nauseousness swept over her. Della threw his arm off her shoulders, put her hand over her mouth, stood up and ran down the aisle of the plane to the bathroom.