by L. D. Davis
The fact was, if this venture failed, I would lose a lot of money—and possibly some of the credibility I’d worked so hard to build over the years. Not to mention, all the many people who were supposed to start work in a matter of weeks would lose that potential income. The situation had me stressed out. If I could, I would stay up for days without sleep to fix it and pretend the rest of the world did not exist, but that was not an option. I had other responsibilities, and I really needed to go to Lydia.
My behavior this morning was abhorrent. It was not her fault I was under pressure from my work, or that I had my brother’s health on my mind, or that I’d taken on Celia’s problems, or that I was trying to do what my brother did best and take care of everyone and everything. It also was not her fault that I had dark thoughts, that despite how much I tried to push it away, Celia’s suggestion that Lydia’s baby may not be mine invaded my mind. I knew in my heart the child belonged to me, but there was an ugly, horrible part of me that wanted to cast doubt on that. Now, I understood why she’d been reluctant to tell me about the baby when we still had so much to deal with between us. I didn’t like it, and I didn’t agree with it, but I understood it.
I’d been a world-class somaro, or ass, to her by behaving like a moody teenage boy. We’d had makeup sex, but we hadn’t actually made up. Nothing had been resolved. That was a bad habit we shared, another bad habit we had to break.
I ended my conference call and rubbed my face wearily. It was late, and I’d made Lydia wait long enough for me. When I left the office, I decided to take a detour to the kitchen to get her some pan biscotto, the cracker-like pieces of bread that seemed to help her nausea earlier. I hated that she was always sick and hoped it eased soon. As I neared the solarium, I heard female voices. Although it was late, it would not have surprised me to find Sofia, Laura, and Lucia in there after their day out together. The three were going to be separated soon. Laura was returning to school in a few days, and Sofia was going back to America with Lydia—if my father allowed it. Lucia would be headed back home with Francesca and the rest of their family. No doubt, I would find the three of them being silly together as young girls tended to be.
I reached the room just in time to witness Lydia slap Celia across the face, hard. Horrified, I jumped into the room and wrapped my arms around Lydia from behind to stop her from hitting Celia again. I didn’t understand what had happened, what could make her attack my sister-in-law like that. In all the years I’d known Celia, I’d never seen her react to anything or anyone with violence, even if well deserved. Sure, she had strong words when necessary, but she had always been gentle, even in her sternness.
Lydia screamed like a crazy woman, kicked, and fought to get out of my arms to go after Celia again. I was worried about her, but I was also angry. Not only had she lost her temper and become violent, she was putting herself and our baby at risk. What if Celia had decided to fight back? What if she had fallen onto the coffee table or was otherwise hurt and lost the baby?
My parents and sisters had come running probably when they heard the screaming. Everyone was talking at once, Celia was weeping, and Lydia’s eyes were wide and wild. Everyone needed to calm the hell down, because no one was going to get anything straight with everyone’s emotions so high, even mine. In fact, whenever Lydia tried to explain herself, I just couldn’t hear it, not yet. Everything was too confusing, too fresh, but she wouldn’t let it go. The stress from everything piled on all at once in that moment. I cracked under all the pressure and shouted and cursed at her in a way I never had before. The devastation on her face would be burned in my memory forever, but I didn’t have time to say anything else before my father barked my name.
“Marcello! Is that the way you were raised to speak to a young lady? Especially a young lady who is carrying your child?”
“Papà, this is not your business,” I snapped. “Just go back to bed.”
My father was shorter than me by a few inches, but he had a way of making me feel like a little boy when he was angry. My mother squeezed between us, not to break us up, but to fuel the fire.
“When did you become head of this household? You had no right to yell at that poor girl like that. You do not know what happened and—”
“Neither do you, Mamma. I don’t want to hear this right now. I’ll deal with Lydia later.”
I glanced around and found that she was no longer in the corridor. I would go to her later, but first, I had to check on Celia. She fell into my arms, crying.
“I am sorry she was upset. I am sorry. I only wanted to talk. Just talk. I am sorry.”
I felt responsible for what happened in that moment. I’d known Lydia wanted nothing to do with Celia, and she had been adamant about that. I should have told Celia to keep her distance until further notice. Now she was punished for the simple act of trying to make friends with Lydia.
I passed Celia to Francesca with the promise of talking to her later. She needed her face tended to before it bruised. My father, still incensed, told me he didn’t raise me to mistreat women, and that no matter what had happened between my girlfriend and sister-in-law, I owed Lydia an apology. He turned his back on me and stormed away. Only Maria and my mother remained, both women glaring at me.
“You always lose your common sense whenever Celia gets into your head,” my mother said bitingly. “If you are not careful, you will also lose your family.” She followed in my father’s footsteps and left in a huff.
I looked to Maria. “Do you have words of wisdom to offer as well?” I asked sardonically.
“I do not offer words of wisdom to morons who are incapable of absorbing said wisdom.”
She walked away, which was just as well, because I really needed some time to myself. I needed to calm down and pull my thoughts together. I sat in the solarium for a while and tried to process all that had occurred. There were many questions in my mind, but I had no answers. I knew the only way I was going to get answers was by talking to both women. Lydia was probably still hotheaded and unable to hold a civil conversation. So, I went upstairs to the hidden room, expecting to find Celia there, and she was.
A bottle of wine was open on the table. She sat on the couch, cradling a glass in her hands. She managed a smile for me and angled her head. “Is it very noticeable?”
I moved closer and examined her once flawless skin carefully. The red handprint was unmistakable. “It certainly looks like someone slapped you,” I said on a sigh and dropped down on the couch beside her. “I am sorry, Celia. Can you tell me what happened?”
She poured a glass of wine for me. “I just wanted to talk to her, but she was so hostile. I don’t understand. I don’t know why she doesn’t like me. I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Marcello. It’s too upsetting.”
Gently, I nudged her to give me more details. “I am trying to understand how this happened.”
Surprisingly, when her gaze met mine, she looked guilty. “I was only trying to get to know her, I swear. After the baby thing, I wanted to know what her motives were. I don’t want her to hurt you. I was not trying to be cruel, but she became so angry, especially after I admitted that you and I were close, and we have been spending so much time together.”
I felt my forehead crease. “Why did you feel the need to say that? Did you not think it might upset her?”
“I was trying to let her know how grateful I was for you being here at this difficult time. Please don’t be angry with me, Marcello. You are the only true friend I have right now. I cannot do this without you. I cannot do any of this without you.”
She was on the verge of tears again. I had never seen her cry as much as I had in the past few weeks. Massimo’s illness and their differences must have really been getting to her. Plus, it was clear that the close relationship she’d once had with my family was no longer in place, so she probably felt that without me there, she had no support. I was not sure what happened, everyone was so cryptic whenever I broached the topic, even Celia, but she should have b
een treated better under the circumstances. She was Massimo’s wife and the mother of his children, and for that alone she deserved respect.
“I need to go,” I said after a few minutes and stood up. “I need to talk to Lydia.”
“Okay.” She looked uneasy, like maybe she was nervous for me.
“Go get some rest.”
I left the small room and made my way to the bedroom I shared with Lydia. When I rounded a corner and was only a few steps away from the room, someone called my name in a whisper. I spun around and found Sofia sitting on the settee at the end of the hall. She stood up and waved me over.
“Do not go in there,” she whispered harshly.
I sighed heavily. “Sofia…”
“No, I mean it. She needs to rest after all of that. Mamma said she barely ate tonight and thinks she was sick most of the day. Also, she can barely walk on that leg of hers. Let her rest, Marcello. You can fight with her in the morning.”
“I don’t want to fight with her, Sofia. I just want to talk.”
“You treated her like shit downstairs, and you shouted at her in front of your whole family. You dismissed her like she didn’t matter. I do not think either one of you will be able to just talk.” She shook her head slowly and crossed her arms over her chest. “I had no idea you were like this. You aren’t the brother I thought I knew. I wanted to go back to America with you because we haven’t spent much time together, but now I don’t know if I want to spend any time with you, not if this is the way you are.”
She brushed past me and headed toward her bedroom. I quietly called her name. She turned but didn’t stop walking as she whisper-shouted, “Just let her rest.”
I felt like crap as I sat down on the now vacated settee. Sofia was so young, just barely out of childhood herself, but so wise. I did not like that my behavior changed her view of me. She’d looked up to me since she was able to talk, always so excited to tell me about her life here. She would probably forgive me after some groveling, but I knew it would not be that easy with Lydia. My baby sister and father were right. I shouldn’t have shouted at Lydia. No matter how frustrated and angry I was, it should’ve never come to that. It was disrespectful and degrading. Silently, I promised to never shout at her or any woman again.
Uncomfortably, I lounged back on the old piece of furniture that was too small for my body, my mind racing. Perhaps I hadn’t carefully thought out my decision to bring Lydia to Italy. Massimo wanted to meet her, and I’d wanted her with me, but maybe it hadn’t been the best idea. She had enough emotional baggage of her own, and I brought her into a very emotional and tense situation. In addition, I’d been aware of her distaste for my sister-in-law, but at one time, she’d also disliked Celeste. Actually, she probably still disliked Celeste, but she was able to be civil and somewhat friendly with her. If I had to be very honest with myself, I was disappointed that Lydia couldn’t make that same effort with Celia considering what she was going through.
Eventually, I nodded off. When I woke up and checked my watch, dawn wasn’t too far away. I decided I would shower, go downstairs to make breakfast, and take it to Lydia on a tray. Eventually, my work would take me away, but we had to talk first.
I went back to the hidden room. I could’ve taken a shower in one of the other bathrooms, but I had clothes in that room. They were old clothes from a few years ago, but they would do in a pinch, and I wouldn’t have to chance waking Lydia or the kids. A few years back when my parents had their fortieth wedding anniversary, I’d wanted to surprise them with a visit. I’d hidden in that room for a whole day until their party. Some of my things were accidentally left behind, and I never removed them.
When I entered the room, I was relieved to see Celia had gone. It was unlikely she would return. We rarely met in there during the daytime hours. I’d just taken off my shirt when I received a call from my team in New York. It was a little after one in the morning there, but they were still working hard. That made me feel guilty for taking a nap. Thankfully, it was a Saturday morning, and no one would have their usual workload to contend with. Even though they would be asleep in a couple hours, I still had a long day of work ahead of me. Knowing it was the middle of the night there, I couldn’t make my people wait a long time for me. I’d have to talk to Lydia later.
With a long, resigned sigh, I stripped down to my boxers and was about to step into the bathroom when the door opened, and Celia came in.
“Oh!” She jumped in surprise and laughed softly as she put a hand to her heart. “I didn’t expect you to be here. I forgot my…” Her words died as she got a good look at me and realized I was only in my underwear.
I was not a self-conscious man, but under Celia’s scrutiny, I felt uncomfortable.
I cleared my throat. “What is it you forgot?”
She blinked. “Um…my…phone.”
Slowly, she unglued herself from the spot she was stuck in but couldn’t unglue her eyes from my body as she retrieved the cell phone I hadn’t noticed from the table.
“Are you about to shower?” She finally met my eyes, but her gaze kept going back to different parts of me.
“I am.”
“Oh. Well, maybe when you are finished you can come over for some breakfast. We should be able to have a little peace before the kids start to wake. We can talk more about our plans for America, or you can tell me how your talk went with Lydia.”
“Not today. I have too much going on right now.”
“Okay…what about tonight? What time do you want to meet?”
“Celia, I’m not going to meet you tonight, and I really don’t have time to talk. Please just…just go, and I will find you when I can.”
She smiled as she started to go out the door, though I could tell I’d hurt her feelings. “You know where to find me.”
My shower was quick. When I got out, Lydia stood on the other side of the couch. She was the last person I expected to see. I’d never told her about the hidden room, and I was sure my siblings hadn’t, either.
She was pale, like my sister had said, and even though I hadn’t noticed it yesterday, she seemed thinner. Dark circles hung beneath her pink-tinged eyes. She was still dressed in the clothes from last night, and she held a cricket bat in her hand.
We argued, despite my intentions not to do so. I didn’t yell at her, but my words were brutal. I regretted them almost immediately. Not only did I regret everything I said in our argument, but I also regretted a lot more, like all the time I missed with her and the kids back in America. Dragging her halfway around the world just to leave her alone most of the time to take care of my “family” but forgetting that she and the kids were my family. I regretted not having my priorities straight and for spending too many hours in that damn room with Celia, and I regretted things that were out of my hands completely, like my brother’s illness. I had so many regrets all at once, but I didn’t get a chance to apologize or tell her about any of it.
Lydia went off like an atomic bomb.
She wielded the bat in a way that would make any cricket player cheer. Terrified she would hurt herself, I tried to stop her path of destruction. I was hit with flying glass and red wine, but I didn’t care about myself. Then she threw the bat at me hard and fast. I couldn’t move quickly enough to get out of its way and was hit in the side. The strength it took for her to do that astounded me. She looked so sick and small, but that was not the end of her rampage. I watched with huge eyes as she screamed and practically threw the coffee table at me. I didn’t dodge that, either.
Lydia continued to scream, in a complete rage, as she tore posters and pictures from the walls, violently ripped them into pieces and threw them at me when I tried to approach her. Other items were knocked to the floor as she tore more pictures from the wall. It would not have surprised me if she flipped the couch over next or picked the whole thing up and threw it at my head, but she didn’t do that or even try. When the door flew open, and my parents rushed in, she just stopped, like a switch inside
her went to the off position. Without a word, she turned around, pushed past my gawking family, and left.
My parents and Maria all started talking at the same time, but I didn’t hear them. I just stood in the middle of the destroyed room, stunned and staring at the mess. My father went away, muttering under his breath. When I finally looked up, only my mother remained in the room. I had not seen that look of disappointment on her face in twenty years, not since I was a young, stupid boy. I didn’t put it past her to take a swing and knock me out again like she’d done back then.
“If she leaves with those babies, and we never get to see her or them again, I will not forgive you, Marcello. I will not.”
She walked away, leaving me in a pool of my own guilt. I went to go after her but immediately stepped on glass, piercing my feet in several places.
“Shit,” I muttered before calling to my mother. “Mamma!”
I thought she would ignore me, but she came back to the doorway and glared.
“Please…make sure she is okay. I will be there as soon as I can.”
It took me fifteen minutes to pick all the glass out of my bleeding feet. I put on my shoes after shaking any glass out of them, found a shirt, and left the room. I really wanted to go see Lydia, but I knew she would need time to cool off again, and my family would take care of her. I lingered at the top of the stairs for a full minute before I made the decision to just get to the office. I was already late. I sent her a text instead.
I know you are upset, and I am sorry. I will be there soon.
I felt like an ass putting work before her under these circumstances, but time was of the essence, and in the end, I knew she would understand.
