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Deja Vu by Ann Douglas (mf) 3/10
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: AnnD: REPOST: Deja Vu - (03/10) - mf
Date: Thu Jul 6 05:14:14 1995
Hi ...... As always, comments are both appreciated and
encouraged. Tell me what you liked about the story and what
you disliked. Don't just say , "nice story" or "it stunk" I
only ask that you reply by e-mail instead of postings, that
way I'm sure to get your reaction. Any and all email will
always be answered.
Thanks,
Ann Douglas.
-DEJA VU-
Part Three
by Ann Douglas
(AnnD@NYCPipeline.Com)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It had only been a week since Jenny had left for London and
already Connie missed her terribly. She had talked to her on
the phone a few hours ago and was overjoyed to know that she
was having a great time. Yet no sooner had the receiver
dropped back on the cradle when she was again filled with an
emptiness.
"I should have never given up control of the restaurants."
Connie said out loud to herself as she turned off the
television. "At least that would've given me something to
occupy my time."
Five years before, on her fiftieth birthday, Connie had
turned over the control of the three D'Angelo restaurants to
her children. In addition to Stephen, she had a second son
named Peter who was now 35. Her daughter Angela had just
turned 31.
Aside from Jenny's mother, Connie was more than pleased with
her children's marriages. Each of her children had been given
a share in their own restaurant as well as operational
control. Connie of course retained majority control of
D'Angelo Enterprises.
Her's was still the final word. She owned that much to her
late husband. Vinnie had literally worked himself to death,
suffering a fatal heart attack when he was only 46. It was
his dream to see the single family restaurant that he'd
inherited from his own father grow into a chain. Connie had
made sure that dream had come true.
It was her distrust of Barbara that caused her to hold her
shares. Deep down, she believed that her daughter in law
didn't have the desire for hard work that running the
restaurants required. If she had any real control, she would
quickly be pushing the other's to sell out for a fast buck.
Peter and Angela understood that. When Connie died, her
shares would skip a generation and be split between the 7
grandchildren. She had arranged for trust funds for all of
them. Each would get their full shares on their 21st birthday.
Connie loved all her grandchildren, but it was always Jenny
that occupied a special place in her heart. She was more like
a daughter than a granddaughter, a reflection of what Connie
was like when she was that young.
"When I was that young." Connie repeated to herself. "When I
was that young I definitely wasn't sitting around the house
feeling sorry for myself."
With that, she rose from the chair and went looking for her
address book. What she needed was a little companionship.
Maybe even a little roll in the sack. Connie had hardly been
celibate in the dozen years of her widowhood. She'd been
actively pursued by a number of men, even taken a few as
lovers. But most lost interest when they finally discovered
that if marriage was a possibility, any control of D'Angelo's
wasn't.
Twice in the last ten years she'd even had one night stands
with younger men. Both times with the summer help that she
hired to fill in for her waiters when they went on vacation.
The young men never stood long and no one ever knew. It gave
her an ego boost to know she could still satisfy a younger
man.
In fact, during her first year of widowhood, Connie had even
had a brief lesbian fling with Maria Fortunato, one of her
neighbors. It was Maria who had initiated the affair and
Connie had been curious enough to let it develop. Most people
thought it was so nice for Maria, a widow in her own right, to
spent so much time with Connie during that difficult first
year. No one ever suspected what was really going on. When
the traditional mourning period finally ended, the men began
to call once again and the affair faded of its own accord. It
had been an interesting experience to say the least and had
helped fill a temporary void in her life.
Connie made a few calls, but had no luck. It was already
Friday night and most of them men she knew had already made
plans for the weekend. Those that she knew would be available
were available for good reason and she wasn't that desperate.
Putting the book back down, Connie picked up the light blue
advertisement sitting next to it on her desk. It was the
flyer she had been given by Jenny's friend. She remembered
that she had called them the other day to hire one of the boys
to work on her patio deck this weekend. Bill Ross or
something like that, was the boy they had told her would be
coming. Just as well she stood home tonight.
"Maybe I should have just asked them to send me over a young
stud." Connie laughed to herself.
Her laugh filled the room for a few seconds, then silence
returned. The house once again seemed very empty.
"You are definitely getting to be a horny old lady, Connie
D'Angelo." Connie thought as she dropped the sheet onto the
table.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Late that night, long after dinner, Connie found herself
unable to sleep. Uneasy with the whole idea of sleeping pills,
she instead poured herself a glass of wine. Still, sleep would
not come. By the time she was on her second glass, she decided
to do a little of that cleaning out of the basement storage
she had been doing on and off for the last two months.
Connie carried a box of mementos up from the basement. She
hadn't looked at this old junk in almost 30 years. Yet lately
she had begun to feel nostalgic. Sipping her drink, she was
surprised that most of it was in such good condition. She had
Vinnie to thank for that. He figured that these things would
mean something to her someday and had been very careful in
packing them away. They were the memories of a young girl
named Connie Esposito, and of a time and place far away.
Shifting through the layers of the past, the dark haired
woman found a stack of old 45's. Removing the plastic wrap
around them, she smiled as she read off the labels. Frankie
Lymon and the Teenagers, Buddy Holly, Little Anthony and the
Imperials, The Monotones, Fats Domino, and of course Elvis.
A bright smile on her lips, Connie thought of those long ago
days when she and her girlfriends had visions of passion
listening to such hits as Peggy Sue, Book of Love, Blueberry
Hill and Why do fools fall in love?
"I haven't heard some of these in years." She said out loud.
"I wonder if they are still good?"
As she placed one of the small records on the entertainment
center's turntable, Connie wondered what her grandchildren and
their MTV oriented friends would think of this music? Placing
the needle on the first grove, she concluded that they would
no doubt view them in much the say way she had viewed her
parents big band albums. Old fogey music!
As the sounds of her girlhood difted across the room, Connie
went back to the storage container. Various books were soon
piled alongside the case, along with piles of snapshots.
Finally, at the bottom of the box, Connie found what she'd
been searching for. Remarkably preserved, it was a framed
color 11 x 14 photograph. In it were four young men in blue
jackets. It was obvious that they were musicians from the
instruments they carried. Standing next to and in front of
the quartet were three young girls. The dark blue lettering on
the drumhead read "Johnny and the Bluecoats"
Focusing on each individual band member, Connie finally
stopped at the tall dark haired lad on the far right. He was
obviously the leader, you could tell that just from his
bearing in the photo. His name... was Johnny Coravelli. And
except for his greased back hair, he could've almost been his
grandson's twin.
"Johnny, Johnny." Connie said to herself with a wide smile.
"You always were a hunk."
Dropping back into her heavily cushioned chair, Connie
reverently ran her fingers across the bottom of the wooden
frame. One by one, the names of the other band members
filtered through her mind. Vito Rossini, Dominic Laruso and
Danny Giordano. They were on the way up in those days, the
early days of Rock N' Roll. All they had needed was one lucky
break. And for a while it looked they might just get it.
Along with the guys were her two best
girlfriends in the whole world. Tina Marie Cerani and Jill
Barusso. The third girl in the photo, the one hanging on to
Johnny was of course as familiar as the closest mirror. Free
of the lines of age and full of youthful exuberance, the face
was her own.
Connie chuckled as she looked at her
younger self. Hair pulled back into a pony tail, a tight blue
sweater and a poodle skirt. That outfit used to cause her
mother to cross herself every time she saw her in it.
Preoccupied with the photo, Connie didn't notice the record
had finished. Her thoughts were no longer here in this room.
Closing her eyes, Connie could hear the magical music of the
Bluecoats. She could see the crowds and feel the excitement
of being there on the verge of success. Most of all, she
remembered how wonderful it felt to have everyone know she was
Johnny's girl.
Her mind began to drift further and further away as her
need for sleep and the wine took her back to days long gone.
To one special night in particular.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ann Douglas
Ann Douglas
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