Nine Years Gone

by Shelly Cruz

  My phone vibrates in my purse, and when I find it in my pockabook, I see a text message from Massimo.

  Massimo: Thank you for stopping by today. We needed it.

  I stare at my phone. Yes, we needed it. I should’ve told him a long time ago. Who am I kidding? I probably should’ve never done it in the first place, but I can’t dwell on the past. I can only move forward. I think about the text I want to send back, how much I would like to say, but decide to keep it simple.

  Lena: You’re welcome. =)

  Tossing my phone back into my bag, I stand and walk back to the office. For the first time in a long time, I feel some peace within me.

  I check the time. It’s 7:48 p.m. I need to leave. I’m supposed to meet Luci and Marcus for dinner at 8:00 p.m., and I’m going to be late. I leave everything sprawled across my desk, so tomorrow I can pick up where I left off. A few more hours of preparation, and I’ll be ready for my client meeting.

  When I exit the building, the cold sucker-punches me, and the wind howls as it tunnels down Congress Street. Thankfully, the cab stand is at the curb in front of the building, and there are a few available cars in line. I sprint over to the first one, open the back door, and climb in.

  “Hi. Giacomo’s in the South End, please. On Columbus Ave.” I open my pockabook and search for my phone to text Luci.

  Lena: Running late. Just got in a cab & should be there in 15.

  Luci replies instantly.

  Luci: OK. See you soon. Me & M already drinking wine :)

  Of course, they are. Luci is the reason I started drinking wine. I was never a fan of it, but that’s because I never knew what to order. We’d go out to dinner, and she’d pick a wine to pair with my food. Eventually, we graduated to drinking bottles with dinner.

  When I started working at the Florentine, during our pre-dinner meeting, we would have an employee meal, which was always accompanied by a wine tasting. The owner wanted the staff to know about the wines we sold because it would make the upsell easier.

  After I started working at Massimo’s place, I suggested he do the same because it made a difference at the Florentine in sales numbers. He was reluctant at first but decided to try it. After that, he hired a wine sommelier to work the dinner shift four nights a week, and he quickly saw an increase in sales.

  The sommelier was impressive. The restaurant carried over 1,000 varieties of wine. Each night our employee meal was paired with a white and red wine, and we had a tasting accompanied by a short instruction. Our wine glasses only had two to three sips of wine in them, but it was enough to swirl the wine, take in the bouquet scent, and taste it. We’d learn about the best wines to complement the specials and menu items. It made the experience of working at a restaurant enjoyable and entertaining.

  The dining room at Giacomo’s is full, as expected. It’s one large room with approximately fifteen tables and high-top counter seating at the back facing the kitchen. They serve Italian food, specializing in seafood and pasta dishes.

  Luci and Marcus are sitting along the left wall. There is a bottle of Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio on the table, and their glasses are each half full. As I approach the table, Marcus stands and hugs me.

  “Lena, I’ve missed you so damn much.” He squeezes me tight.

  “Me too,” I say. I know we talked on the regular, but it’s not the same. “Feels good to be home again.”

  “I’m super happy you’re back, too,” says Marcus.

  “Hey, Luce,” I say. She slides down the banquette, and I lean down to give her a cheek kiss.

  “Hi, Lena. We’ve nearly polished off the bottle waiting for your ass,” she tells me, giggling.

  “That’s okay. I’m sure there’s plenty more where that came from. Luci, your hair looks amazing. When did you get it done?”

  Luci’s hair is freshly cut, a typical short cut, extremely short in the back with longer pieces on top, and colored auburn.

  “I went to see my uncle on Saturday. You know he loves to experiment with my hair.”

  “I love it, as usual,” I tell her.

  “Everything okay at work, Lena?” Marcus asks.

  “It’s been quite the day. But first, wine.” I pull a chair out and shimmy into the seat next to Marcus. The restaurant is small, and the space is tight. I take my jacket off and hang it on the back of the chair as Luci pours me some wine.

  “What happened now?” She holds her glass up, waiting for me to raise mine.

  “Salute.” We clink our glasses, and I sip my wine. “Work kept me late. I have a removal hearing next week that I’m preparing for.”

  “What’s that?” Marcus asks.

  “It’s basically a trial for someone who has a deportation order. At the removal hearing, my client has an opportunity to make his case as to why he shouldn’t be deported.”

  “Sounds intense.”

  “It is. Let’s not talk about work. I think about it all day already. I’m dying to catch up with you guys since we haven’t had time to since I’ve been back. Marcus, how’s work? Do you like working at Mistral?” Mistral is an upscale, trendy French-Mediterranean bistro a few blocks away from where we are now.

  “It’s okay. I miss working at the Florentine. I make more money at Mistral, but it’s a different vibe, ya know?”

  “I was surprised when you told me you were leaving the Florentine. You worked there for years,” Luci says.

  “Fourteen years, to be exact,” Marcus adds.

  “You think you’ll stay there? Nothing worse than working somewhere you don’t like,” I say.

  “Actually, I called the manager at the Florentine and asked if there was any possibility of me returning. She was gonna let me know. Guess they’re not a fan of the bartender that replaced me. I’ll know more in a few days.”

  The server comes to our table and takes our order, and I fill Luci and Marcus in on what happened with Massimo—giving them all the details of our conversation, including why I left.

  “You left because you can’t have kids? Jesus, Lena! Why didn’t you share that with me? I’m your best friend and would’ve never judged you.” Luci’s mouth twists in disbelief, her eyes are rimmed with water, and she’s fighting back the tears. Another one of my victims.

  “Luce, I’m sorry. I know those words don’t do much to take away the pain my actions caused, but I want you to know it’s not because I didn’t trust you or because I was afraid you’d judge me. I just knew that Massimo would go see you and pressure you, and I didn’t want to put you in that position.” I extend both my hands across the table and grab her right hand in mine.

  “Wow, Lena, I don’t even know what to say right now. You lied to me for so many years about something so monumental. I get why you did it, but it’s so fucked up.”

  “I never lied to you. I just never told you the whole truth,” I say.

  “Semantics. You lied by omission. It’s the same fucking thing!”

  “I’m sorry.” I squeeze her hand. “I never meant to hurt you. I love you, and I hope that one day you’ll forgive me for the pain I caused you.”

  “I’m not gonna lie and say I’m not hurt and that I forgive you because I need some time to let it all sink in. But I’m sure I’ll come around eventually. And I love you too, even when you do things you shouldn’t.” She squeezes my hand.

  “You girls are gonna make me cry, and I didn’t come to shed tears tonight. I know you ladies will kiss and make up. Now let’s drink,” Marcus says and raises his glass. “To us, our friendship, and being back together.” That’s one of the things I love about Marcus. He always lightens the mood when the conversation gets serious.

  “I’ll drink to that,” I say, looking first at Marcus and then at Luci. My gaze remains on Luci, hoping that she can see that I truly love her. We’ve been friends our entire lives, she’s my sister, even if not by blood, and I know that I wounded her. Hopefully, she’ll find it in her heart to understand and forgive me.

  “Me too,” Luci says, a
nd her lip curls up on one side.

  “So, I am dying to hear about you and Dom,” I say. “I saw you guys being all hush-hush at the wake for Massimo’s mother but honestly didn’t think much of it. I just thought you were keeping your voices down because of the circumstances. But when you left together, I was intrigued. Are you guys an item now or what?”

  Luci bites her lip. “We’ve been out a few times, nothing official yet.”

  “Girl, spill. You know we’re not gonna be satisfied with that,” Marcus proclaims.

  “Exactly! I want all the details,” I add.

  “A few weeks ago, I was in the North End picking up a ricotta pie and a few pastries at Modern’s for a work thing, and I ran into him. We talked for a little while, and when I had to leave, he asked if he could call me. That day I didn’t realize he meant he wanted to ask me out. I wasn’t thinking about him that way. He called me the next day. At first, I was surprised to hear from him that soon, but then he invited me to dinner. We’ve been out a few times since.”

  “Are you into him?” I have so many questions for her.

  “Surprisingly, yes. I’ve known him for years but never thought about a relationship with him. But he’s sweet.” Luci shrugs and takes a sip of her wine.

  Marcus quips, “Have you slept with him? Is he good in bed?”

  “Don’t hold back, Marcus,” I add.

  “Oh, stop! You know you want to know just as much as I do,” he responds, and I chuckle, shaking my head.

  “Well, yeah, but figured I’d work my way to that question.”

  Luci’s eyes widen. She shakes her head. “You guys have no shame! You want to get right to it.”

  “That’s right, now spill it. How is he in bed?” Marcus insists and chuckles.

  “Considering I went back for seconds and thirds.” Luci shrugs, smirking.

  “Where was your first date?” I ask.

  “His friend owns a restaurant in Woburn, so we had dinner there.”

  “How was it?” I ask.

  “Incredible. Every time I’ve met him, he’s always been quiet, but he’s quite conversational. He wants to take me out for my birthday in a few weeks, and of course, I said yes. It’s been a while since I’ve dated someone seriously, and I like him. He’s not pushy, we have good conversation, and since I’ve known him for years, I know he’s not a serial killer.”

  “You forgot to mention he’s fine!” adds Marcus.

  “Yeah, that too,” Luci confirms.

  Luci glows when she talks about Dom. Her eyes are upturned, and she dons a smile while speaking about him and their time together. I’m happy for her. She’s only had a couple of serious relationships over the years. I’d like to think that fate had something else in mind for her with Dom. I got to know him relatively well when I was with Massimo, and I liked him. He was always polite, has a good sense of humor, is a loyal friend, was always there for Massimo or any of his friends when they needed it most, and he’s a good-looking guy. Besides, Massimo is friends with him, and he’s weird about the friends he lets into his inner circle, which speaks volumes about Dom.

  “Luce, I’m happy for you. Dom is a great guy, and I really hope it works out for you guys,” I tell her.

  CHAPTER 24

  It Was Always You

  MASSIMO

  I’M ANXIOUS TO MEET Lena tonight. After she showed up here unexpectedly yesterday, we made progress in starting to squash our negative history. I was annoyed that Patty was out, and I had to fill in for her because it cut our conversation short. I hope now that Lena told me why she left, she won’t close up on me. After our conversation, getting work done was torture, and it took me twice as long to close everything out.

  Work was the furthest thing from my mind. All I could think about was our exchange. She kept so much about her health from me, and I can’t help but wonder what I could’ve done differently that would’ve made her open up to me. I played a huge role in her choosing to vanish from my life. For years I blamed only Lena for everything. But I was as much responsible for our heartache as she was. That’s a tough pill to swallow.

  Even with everything I learned, my stomach twists in knots when I think about what she did. But when I think about why, I almost understand, which is fucked up. What does that say about me? Does it mean she’s right, that I would’ve resented her because we wouldn’t have been able to have kids? I’d like to think not, but I’m known to be an asshole, and the truth is I don’t know what I would’ve done. My head is so fucked up over the whole thing, although at this point, I guess it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done—could’ve, would’ve, should’ve, and all that.

  I feel terrible that I reacted exactly how she predicted I would and left her at The Vault the way I did. I wish I could take it back, but thankfully she accepted my apology.

  And what a fucking douchebag Stefano is. I knew the guy was bad news and that things between him and Lena ended badly, but I never knew the extent of it. He fucked with her head, and that spilled over into my relationship. I should’ve beaten his ass when I had the opportunity to. Let me stop thinking about that asshole before my mood turns sour.

  The clock on the wall reads 4:19 p.m. The staff is probably having their meal and their pre-shift meeting—let me join them. Before heading upstairs, I shoot Lena a text.

  Massimo: Still on for dinner at BT’s?

  The wine sommelier is doing his usual wine tasting with the staff while they have dinner, and I take the opportunity to speak to Patty.

  “I’m heading out soon and won’t be around tonight. Of course, if you absolutely need to, call or text, but try not to need me,” I say, giving her a half-smile.

  “I’ll be fine, but you know that already. Do what you need to do, and don’t worry about us.”

  “I know, Patty. I trust you, but you know I’m a workaholic and control freak.”

  “You? Really? Thanks for the 4-1-1. I didn’t know.” She rolls her eyes and starts laughing, then returns to the staff meeting.

  Patty has been my manager since day one. She used to work at my uncle’s place with me as a waitress, taught me most of what I know. I offered her the management position when I opened up because I knew I could trust her to run this place like her own, and she does.

  I saunter to the end of the bar, pull a bottle of Jack from the back shelf, and pour myself a shot. I need to take the edge off. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and grab it.

  Lena: Yes—see you soon =)

  I’m sitting on the brick wall outside the restaurant when I see Lena crossing the street. She has a black scarf wrapped around her neck and is bundled up in her black leather jacket. Her hair cascades down her back. As usual, her lips are painted, today with a dark red stain. Fuck, her beauty still shines. When she’s near, I stand.

  “Hi. You look cold,” I say, kissing her cheek. Her nose is red, and her cheeks are flushed.

  “I forgot how crazy the weather is in Boston. One day it’s warm, and the next, it’s frigid.” She’s rubbing her hands together.

  “Come on,” I say, reaching for her hand and walking to the entrance.

  Billy Tse’s has been a part of the neighborhood since the 90s. The food is phenomenal and has been since the restaurant opened its doors. With a full bar and a late-night lounge, my buddies and I would come here a lot after work to grab a bite and have a few drinks when I worked with my uncle.

  “You want to sit at the bar or a table?” I ask her.

  “Um, let’s get a table in the back in case it gets busy later.” She gestures toward the back by lifting her chin while she unzips her jacket.

  The hostess takes us to a table, and we’re the only two people in the dining room. Six thirty is early for dinner in the city, and this place tends to get full on the later side, which is okay because it will give us the privacy we need.

  Once seated, Lena says, “It’s been years since I’ve been here. We have a lot of great memories from here.” Her eyes crinkle and turn upward at the
corners as she’s looking around. “Nothing’s changed. It looks literally the same as it did all those years ago, yellow walls and all.” She chuckles.

  I lived across the street at the Lincoln Wharf Apartments when Lena and I started dating, and we would regularly order takeout from here and walk down to pick it up. Sometimes we would sit at the bar for a few drinks and eat in, often running into someone we knew and would hang out for a little while.

  “It’s been a minute since I’ve been here too, I think maybe last year,” I say.

  “I hope the scallion pancakes are as good as they always were. I never found any in Des Moines that were worth getting. Most places didn’t have them, and those that did just didn’t cut it.”

  “You want to look at the menu, or should I order us our usual?”

  “The usual. We never went wrong. Plus, I’m starving.”

  The waitress arrives, a slender Asian woman with her hair in a low ponytail.

  “Hi, welcome to Billy Tse’s. Are you ready to order, or do you need a few minutes?”

  “Grey Goose and soda with two limes, a Tsingtao beer, and two glasses of water, please. As for food, an order of scallion pancakes, spring rolls, crab rangoon, and Chun Liu chicken with white rice. If you could, please bring the food together.”

  “Will do. Thank you.” The waitress walks off, and I turn to Lena and extend my hands across the table, curling my fingers with hers, our eyes meeting.

  “Nine years gone, and here you are sitting in front of me. It’s so surreal. I didn’t think I’d ever have this opportunity again,” I say. Her eyes are soft, vibrant green behind red frames.

  “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me for leaving you?”

  “That day at The Vault, I didn’t know if I could. I was so mad at you. I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. But as the days passed, I thought to myself, ‘There has to be more to the story,’ and there was. After everything you told me yesterday, part of me gets angry that you made such a big decision without me, a decision about my life—our life—and you had no right to do that. You took that choice away from me, except I played a huge role in the decision you made, and I’m furious with myself for it because I was oblivious. Until yesterday, I always blamed you for our destruction, but now I know I was just as responsible for it. That realization is humbling. You’re not the only one who needs to ask for forgiveness.”