We’d seen each other Wednesday, August 11, 2010. Five days after that, on August 16, 2010, Tony and I got to be together again. Hoorah!
I’d noticed a pattern: for our meet-ups during the work week, he would arrive in his unmarked Virginia State Police Ford Expedition; on weekends he’d be on his motorcycle or, long into our relationship, sometimes in an old truck he owned.
I wondered once or twice, when he showed in the SUV, if he was actually officially on-duty or if he’d taken the day off but was using the job-supplied vehicle as not to raise any red flags with pseudo wife. I already knew from what he’d said it was not uncommon for him to, before he met me, venture off on two wheel rides on his personal days, so at least that was covered.
Since it was a Monday, he was in the expected auto.
Although each of our encounters, over all, featured many similarities, every one I had with Special Agent Anthony Gattuso is memorable for me, marked with a keepsake of some sort.
This time I walked away with one of his “wife beaters” -- a ribbed, white, cotton undershirt he donned regularly to keep his weapon and holster from chaffing his skin. I slept in, sometimes outright wore, the thing until every ounce of his scent had evaporated from it. At last I broke down and laundered it. From then on, for months I just kept it close by. Ultimately, in a moment of lucidness, I returned it to him. Even that meeting has its relics...
