by Kali Brixton
“No, not yet.” The sadness in Lia’s voice rings in my ears as I reach them.
“And thank the Lord, too. Good men these days are as rare as hen’s teeth,” I interject, alerting them to my presence. His weathered smile greets me before pulling me into one of his amazing hugs that I miss so much. “I was born at the wrong time, missing out on handsome men like you, Papi Dean. How are you?” He pulls back, a twinkle in his eye like always. Without answering, he takes my hand and twirls me around, guiding me onto the dance floor.
We find a spot to call our own on and start moving to the first beats of “Run-Around Sue,” a Dion hit he and I both love so much. “I see you’ve still got the moves, preziosa.”
I laugh as we get into the groove of some light swing dance. “I learned from the best.”
“It’s easy to dance when you’re with the right partner,” he comments, taking me into a turn.
“Very true. Lia was so excited when she saw that you made it here.”
“I was glad I could come, though I wish I could have been here to see her married. It’s wonderful to see my sweet little Magnolia married with a little bambina of her own.”
I glance at Lia and Landry, who are sneaking a glance at us and whispering amongst themselves. “I’ve never seen her so happy, Papi Dean.”
“That does this old man’s heart good to hear that.” He glances around. “Where are Rian and Kyleigh? I thought they would be here.”
“Mom’s at home with the flu, so Dad was afraid to be near the baby.” I think back to Kieran’s cryptic text I saw when I first came into the reception hall.
I need you to talk with Luca. He’s got some important things to tell you. We’ll talk more when I get back.
My first thought when I read it was “No, thank you. Kindly go to Hell.” I’ll probably have to break down and talk to the idiot, though, to see what’s so important—but not today. “Kieran was supposed to be on duty, so I’d say he got wrapped up in something.” Used to, my automatic assumption would be that he was wrapped up in someone, but since becoming a regular at RISE, his man whoring ways have dwindled.
Maybe he’s finally growing up…
“Chip off the old block, huh?”
“A blockhead’s more like it,” I grin, rolling my eyes.
Papi Dean roars at my dig, his laughter so full of life. “So, tell me what’s new in your life. I got your letter before I left, but it’s much better to hear it in person.” The corners of his eyes crinkle as he gives me a conspiratorial grin.
I’d taken a pen pal a couple of years ago, one who asked me to keep an eye on his granddaughter and to let him know if anyone tried to mess with her again. A pen pal who had sworn me to absolute secrecy. “Same ol’ same. Teaching the little ones every day.” And working as a masked vixen at night along with your granddaughter. He doesn’t need to know that part, though.
“Still love it?”
“I adore it,” I reply, my heart filling with joy. “Nothing’s better than seeing them grow and learn each day.”
“One day, sweet girl, you’ll have little ones of your own—and you’ll have to send me lots of videos.”
I want to tell him that day might never come, but that can wait for another conversation. Plastering on a smile to cover up the hurt that those thoughts bring me, I change the topic. “What have you been up to lately?”
“Not traveling as much as I used to. My little town has all I need, and I was telling Lia, it makes me feel closer to my wife when I’m there.” Lia’s grandmother passed away several years ago, and the love between her and Papi Dean was the kind they wax on about in fairy tales and sing about in love songs. I can only imagine what that kind of separation from the one you love the most feels like. Boy, can I. “One day, you’re going to accept my invitation and come visit.”
“Good thing I’ve already been looking into flights for next summer.” I’ve always wanted to visit Ireland and Scotland, so a jaunt over to Italy will only make the trip sweeter.
“Splendido!” He cups my face and kisses both my cheeks before dipping me with a flourish. “You and I will paint the town red.”
“You’re gonna have to show me all the sights and where to get the good pizza.”
“That’s a promise, preziosa. You’re going to love it there. Maybe a good Italian boy will sweep you off your feet and you’ll never leave.”
I flick my gaze to Luca, who’s openly staring in our direction like he’s deep in thought, before focusing back on my dance partner. “Only if I can find one just like you.”
Because the good Italian boy I once gave my heart to nearly ruined all things red, white, and green for me.
12
Luca
Watching my grandfather twirl Everleigh around to some of her favorites is a double-edged sword.
On one hand, he and Ev adore each other immensely, and to see them enjoy each other’s company makes my heart feel so full. Ev took a couple of classes on decade dancing where you learn the dance crazes of that time period. The 1950s and 60s were her absolute favorites, and it shows by the way she and Papi Dean are moving so seamlessly together through the songs of his youth.
Good thing the DJ took requests, even though I didn’t get to benefit from them.
Though, I can’t help but be jealous of him. Even though my sister is the singer and dancer of the pair, Ev can hold her own on the dance floor. It was something in our brief time together that we never got to do. Something that I lived to regret every time I would see a couple dancing to a street performance during my time in Italy. As I watched those couples and the way they found their own rhythm in front of everyone, with only each other in their sights, I couldn’t help imagining every time what it would’ve been like to hold Ev against me on those Italian streets. To feel her smooth curves sway against me as we’d melt into each other, forgetting about everyone else but us as we danced in our own little universe.
I know I shouldn’t have asked her to dance when my fiancée is sitting a couple of tables over from me, politely making conversation with my mother and a few of her friends. But ever since I first saw her across the hall of my sister’s apartment, every chance I can get to be near her, I selfishly take it.
Because living with her rejection and hatred is better than living without her in my life at all as I did for nearly five years overseas.
The music changes to a familiar tune, one that I know Ev and Papi Dean will both appreciate. A song that takes me back to the day Kieran learned how seriously Everleigh takes her oldies music…
“Ev! You hear that?” Lia exclaims.
The soft background music grows louder as Ev twists one of the stereo knobs. “That, my friends,” she declares with a big grin as she glances around at us, “Is the sound of quality music.”
I’d recognize that song anywhere. “Soul and Inspiration.” Papi Dean would sometimes sing it to my grandmother when it came on the radio and twirl her around in their kitchen, with Lia and Everleigh swooning over how romantic it was.
“Laaaaaaaame!” Kieran exclaims as Ev pays the drive-thru worker for our milkshakes and fries, thanking them. “Enough of the outdated shit, Ev. Let’s listen to something from this century.”
“First of all, no one listens to a Righteous Brothers song—they experience it, you musically tasteless buffoon.” Conviction coats her words as she pulls beside the trash can at the end of the property and slows to a gentle stop. Rian’s driving lessons on the old abandoned drag strip he and Kieran love to race on definitely paid off. She drives like she’s much more experienced than she should be at sixteen. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
“Anything on these,” he says as he waves his CDs proudly.
Ev grabs our stray straw wrappers and stuffs them all in the makeshift garbage bag, casting a sideways glance at my sister as Lia divvies out the shakes and the fries. “Oh? Can I see them?”
The CDs glint in the sunlight as he hands them to her. “Get ready to be blown away.�
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“Thanks.” She turns them over, reading the bands’ names written in K’s handwriting, a sour expression on her pretty face. Kieran’s taste in music is questionable sometimes, which is probably why Ev just stuffed them in the bag and threw them in the trash before driving off.
“What the hell, Ev?” Kieran angrily bites out at her as Lia and I laugh.
“What? I had to throw out the trash,” Ev informs him, never cracking a smile.
“Those are mine!”
“You mean they were yours.”
He huffs as he falls back into his seat and sucks his milkshake straw into his tightly pressed lips, pouting.
Ev merges into traffic and picks up speed quickly. “They’re burned CDs, Kieran. I’ll get you a whole new pack—for listening in your own vehicle.” She gives him a pointed look in the rearview mirror. “Never insult The Righteous Brothers again.”
Everleigh and Papi Dean dance from one song to another for a good thirty minutes, showing off their best moves, as I watch them from my table now in the shadows of the dim room. Her dress flutters around her knees every time he spins her, making her giggle again and again.
“Don’t you think it would be a good idea to ask your fiancée to dance?” my father asks in a low voice as he sits down at my table, breaking my concentration. The one reserved for the parents and godparents, plus Lia’s two friends Addy and Eden, who were now chatting with her and Landry across the room as Addy rocks Aliana.
I think back to an event of Antonio’s that she and I were required to attend together not too long after I arrived from Italy. We sat there, total strangers forced together by circumstance, and chatted sporadically until Antonio told us to go dance. The request was more command, so we did, but I could tell in her movements she wasn’t happy about it. “She doesn’t enjoy dancing. I’m not gonna force her to do something she doesn’t want to do,” I remark, giving my father a meaningful look.
I catch Papi Dean out of the corner of my eye approaching the table, minus his dance partner. “Son, I haven’t spoken hardly a word to you all evening.”
“You’ve been busy,” I hear Dad say as I watch Ev approach the girls and give them all a hug. Eden hands her a phone and a purse, then smacks her behind before Ev leaves them, shaking her head as she walks away from the group. Something in the way they’re giggling amongst themselves causes worry to settle in my gut. What’re they up to?
“That Everleigh’s a fine dancer,” Papi Dean remarks, patting me on the leg, a wide smile in place to let me know he saw me staring at her.
My dad grumbles under his breath, knowing Ev’s the reason I wanted to walk away from the arrangement I ended up agreeing to, anyway. Because of that, she’s become a threat in his eyes—the one thing that could pull the lynchpin from the hinges and bring the whole machine down. “I’m going to go find your mother,” he says in a curt tone, his mouth drawing tight. “We’ll talk later, Father. You’re welcome to join us for dinner this evening.”
Papi Dean agrees as Dad leaves in search of Mom, before turning his attention to me. “You should’ve asked her for a dance.”
I shrug, sighing. “She turned me down.” Three times before going to dance with you.
He gives me a small nod before searching the room. “Where’s Gianelle?”
“No clue.” We don’t keep tabs on each other like that, which is fine by me.
He continues to look around before dropping his voice a little lower. “Can you do an old man a favor?”
“Sure,” I reply, disappointment painting the words because I know she’s gone.
“Well,” he begins, reaching toward the seat Ev sat in before I asked her the first time to dance, “It seems my little Everleigh forgot to grab her coat on her way out.” He grasps his knee and starts rubbing it. “And these old legs are feeling a bit fatigued. Think you can catch up with her while she waits for her date?” That wily smirk of his saying more than a million words could ever express. “I’d hate for her to catch a cold.”
I would’ve appreciated the gesture no matter what, but the word date gets my ass out of the seat and snatching the dark coat from him. “Anything for you, Papi Dean.”
13
Everleigh
The restroom near the front doors of the reception hall is dimly lit, but only in the best ways. The kind that softens harsh features and makes you glow. I primp my hair, fixing the few fallen strands that escaped from my loose chignon while I was dancing with Papi Dean. For him to be his age, you wouldn’t know it on the dance floor.
I touch up my makeup with the little I packed in my purse. A sudden chill hits me and I notice a cracked window near the top of the wall. Looking around, I see that I left my jacket. Crap. I’ll have to go back in there.
As much as I’ll need it after the sun sets, I lament having to go back to the table and see Luca. Maybe he’s off talking with someone now and I can avoid him—like a mature twenty-six-old is supposed to do.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t hear one of the stall doors open, making me plow right into the person vacating it. I catch them and hope I didn’t hurt them, only to recognize who it is. “Oh, I’m sorry, Gia.”
“It’s okay,” she replies softly, her voice sounding weak as she makes her way to the sink.
I watch her in the mirror as she washes her hands quickly. Her long, statuesque body is a far cry from the last time I saw her as a young girl. She’s definitely grown up, with striking olive skin, long legs, and deep brown eyes. Her dark brown hair cut in an angular pixie style, making her look older than she is and even taller than the two inches at least she’s got on me. She’s for sure a knockout, every inch pure Italian beauty. But, that sad look on her face… “You all right?”
She flicks the water off her newly washed hands and reaches for the paper towels, a long sigh escaping her. “Long day.”
Gia looks like someone kicked her puppy. She can’t be over nineteen or twenty now, which was the same age I was when… Don’t finish that thought. I cast her a smile, hoping it will cheer her up. “It’s nice that you came to the ceremony. I’m sure Lia was glad to see you.”
She gives me a nod, looking at the floor as she finishes wiping off her hands. “I didn’t want to intrude, but my fiancé’s parents invited my father and me.”
Knowing her father, I hope her fiancé is a much better man than his dickface son was. “I didn’t know you were engaged. Congratulations!”
The smile she gives me, though, never reaches her eyes. “Thank you.”
I check my phone, which is vibrating with a message most likely from Aaron, my “date” for tonight.
Aaron: I’m parked on the right at the edge of the building. Black Durango. Wait ‘til you hear this Hellcat engine purr.
I need to leave, but she seems like she needs some kind words right now. “Can I tell you something?”
She nods silently, looking uncertain at what I’m about to say to her.
“When Lia and…” What to say here? Asshat? Dickless Wonder? Man Who Sucks Donkey Testicles for Funsies? I clear my throat. “Your…brother were together, she always bragged about what a sweet girl you were.” Her eyes light up a bit as I continue, “So, thank you for being kind to my friend. She needed it far more than you can imagine.”
There’s a look of understanding on her beautiful features, which makes me so sad for her that she’ll probably have to suffer the same fate as my best friend. “I always liked Lia.” She stares at the door, as if trying to see through it, and drops her voice to a whisper. “I hate how my brother did her. He may be family, but he didn’t deserve her.”
Well, at least we’re on the same page about that. “I hope your fiancé knows what he’s got,” I offer with a wink.
“Thank you,” she replies, an appreciation deep in her tone.
I open the door for us both, noticing her father and Lia’s parents standing near the doors, talking. “So, who’s the lucky guy?” I ask, curious to know who her evil bastard of a father
no doubt yoked her to for all eternity.
She gives me an incredulous look like she shouldn’t have to spell it out for me. “Lia’s brother. Luca.”
My steps toward the door come to a halt. I replay the words she just uttered in my head, hoping I didn’t hear them right, knowing that I did. Did someone just suck all the air out of the room? Because I can’t fucking breathe. “L-Luca?”
“Yeah.” Her dark brows scrunch together. “I thought you knew.”
I shake my head, unable to form a word. Gia’s engaged to Luca. Taking a shaky breath, I try not to show the sheer pain that’s reverberating in my chest right now. He’s not yours anymore, remember? “I, uh…” He never was. Willing my nerves to calm, I croak out, “That’s great. Good for you.”
“Everleigh, are you okay?” She puts her hands on my arms like she’s afraid she’s going to have to hold me up. “You’re really pale.”
“I’m…fine,” I say, straightening my spine, hoping it will level out my voice and keep me from passing out. “I need to go. Um, congratulations.” I smile at her and bolt for the doors, not giving her a chance to answer.
The crisp January air smacks me in the face, but I welcome it because I was going to faint in there if I didn’t escape. Luca is marrying her? My hand clutches my stomach as I spot Aaron’s SUV down at the end of the building. I’ve got to get the hell away from here.
My strides lengthen as I pound the sidewalk, trying to will away these tears.
You will not fucking cry.
You are not allowed to break down right fucking now.
Pack that shit in the snow where it belongs.
I had earned the mantle of ice queen at RISE a long time ago for a reason. Time to be worthy of that title.
