“Yes.” Giving me another moment, Joe then peruses, “So, what about your family?”
“My family? You’ve met them.”
“No, I didn’t,” he says confused.
“Yes, you did. At New Year’s,” I answer truthfully.
“I’m talking about your real family.”
“They are my real family,” I insist.
Pressing gently, he says, “I mean your biological family.”
I look down at Sadie, stroking her lightly while trying to decide what I’m willing to share and how to present it. “They’re in Jersey.” Avoiding any further prying, I proceed with my next question, but it comes across more as a statement, “Your girlfriend must not like you being all the way out here on the West Coast.”
He grins. “No girlfriend.”
“So, you’re a heart breaker, huh?” I taunt.
“No. I just hadn’t found the right one yet,” he admits.
“So, are any of your other brothers involved in the family business?”
“No. Just me. That’s two more questions I get to ask.” he teases.
“No.” I contend.
Crap. He’s right, though I don’t want to admit it. I want to keep the inquires off of me and my life.
“So, how often do you see your family in Jersey?”
“Not as often as I used to,” I disclose carefully.
“I’m sure they miss you,” he says rather than questions.
“It’s not a big deal.” Wanting to move the conversation forward, I ask, “So, what did you study in college?”
“Business and economics. I had a double major,” he offers without hesitation.
I’m caught off guard by his willingness to answer my questions as I avoid his, which leaves me temporarily without my next question.
“How is it not a big deal? They’re your family.”
“Because it isn’t,” I insist.
“I’m sure they want to see you . . . .”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Sure it does,” he coaxes.
“No, it doesn’t,” I demand, gritting my teeth while rising from the couch.
“How?” he searches with soft eyes and a concerned expression.
“Because they’re dead,” I quietly lash out and storm to my bedroom slamming the door behind me after Sadie enters. I rest my back against the door trying to regain my composure.
I’m not really mad at Joe, I know that. I’m mad at having to explain myself — that I exposed myself. Why did I say anything? I told myself that I wouldn’t share. I could have just told him to ask a different question.
A tender knock on the door startles me. I don’t move, but I turn my head in the direction of the knob.
“Emma . . .” Joe whispers. “Emma . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
Nine
As I attempt to lift my heavy eyelids, I discover a hazy darkness surrounding me. Blinking slowly several times, my half-opened eyes won’t focus to give me any clear indication of what’s around me and where the blurry, flashing lights above are coming from. My body feels heavy. Still unable to open my eyes all the way, I perceive that I’m laying down somewhere. A cool dampness near my left cheek reveals itself as a slight gust of air brushes past my face. Sliding my right arm up the side of my body like a snake, my fingers creep to my lips. Drool — or, at least I hope so.
Two large and oddly shaped figures materialize in front of me. They are so close, only a foot or two away. Voices suddenly emanate from the now more defined silhouettes. Their speech sounds muffled and trails off into the distance even as I try to concentrate on their words. Who are they? What are they saying? Why can’t I understand them? One of the voices almost sounds feminine.
Another indistinguishable sound gradually becomes more apparent as it grows louder and the ringing in my ears subsides. It’s the engine of a car. My brain finally starts to put the fuzzy pieces of evidence together. I must have fallen asleep in the back seat. A familiar smell creeps into my nose that reassures me — my mother’s perfume.
“Mom?” my throat squeezes out in a raw, breathy, hoarse tone.
“We’re almost home, dear,” her voice replies in a low sluggish tone.
I internally smile at her comforting words, though her voice sounds peculiar.
A sudden rush of nervousness enters my belly. The car feels as if it’s flying down the road like a rocket ship as the speed of the flashing lights zooming above my head all blur into one.
“Mom,” I try to shout, but not a single sound escapes my mouth this time. Confused, I try again. “Mom!”
She doesn’t hear me. I don’t hear me.
A single, bright white light races towards us, growing larger by the second. My mother turns her head towards me smiling. Why doesn’t she hear me? How does she not see the light?
Again, with all my might. “Mom . . . !” my voice trails in my head like a deafening siren, stabbing my ears like a knife.
Time stops in this very moment. I can see everything with perfect clarity as I stare in horror into my mother’s eyes. My mouth is left open, still screaming without a sound. I can’t hear anything except a piercing ring that echoes in my body. Why can’t she hear me? Why doesn’t she see the terrified look on my face?
My body lurches backward as I attempt to scramble to grab my mother and I suddenly become paralyzed. Then, it happens all at once — I see the face of the truck driver before I hear the sound of metal hitting metal as it wraps itself around and around. Joe? Suddenly, I see my mother’s and father’s bodies hurling forward toward the oncoming truck and bouncing around like ping pong balls getting dented with each blow.
My heart is filled with panic and fear as I desperately try to yell one more time, “Mom . . .!
Jerking up, I shout out in horror. My heart pounds, my lungs heave and my entire body shakes. Sadie is whimpering and scrambling to calm me down as my eyes search for something familiar other than her. Where am I? I’m not at home.
The door to my right flies open just a split second before the one in front of me, both causing a thundering sound to echo in my ears. It’s too dark to know who’s standing in either doorway as a familiar voice rings through the air and the bed under me shifts.
“Emma?” Maggie yells with fright, wrapping her arms around me. Looking to the silhouette in the other door, she instructs, “Go get Jared.”
Rocking my shaking body, Maggie strokes my hair trying to calm me, “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
I hear another voice that sounds vaguely familiar approaching but it's muffled, causing me to not be able to decipher it.
“She’ll be fine . . . once Jared gets here,” she soothes.
Less than a minute later, Jared is on the bed to my left and wraps me in his arms as he always does. The sensation of his familiar touch brings peace to my mind and body, starting to still my pounding heart.
“She’ll be fine,” Jared announces quietly.
I’m not completely coherent yet to know who exactly he’s talking to other than Maggie.
“This is too often,” Nathan whispers with a shaky tone.
“Not now, babe,” Jared directs.
I hear sounds in the background, but I stay focused on the sound of Jared’s beating heart that is pressed up against my left ear. The lights go off and I’m consoled by the presence of my friend, my brother, until sleep over takes me again.
Ten
I wake to find Jared and Nathan sleeping next to me and Sadie perched across my belly. It happened again. I don’t understand why, which scares me, especially since I just had one yesterday. Why did it change again? Yesterday, the driver was Maggie and today it was — Joe.
I shift gently to check the time on my phone that I left on the nightstand. It’s five thirty-three in the morning and I’m wide away. Sneaking out of the bed, Sadie and I head to the bathroom and I grab some clothes on the way. After relieving myself, I change into workout clothes and turn off the light
before I open the door to the bedroom. Good, Jared and Nathan are still asleep and Jared has repositioned himself by spooning Nathan.
Tiptoeing to the kitchen to make Sadie’s breakfast, I move slowly as my eyes adjust to the dimly lit condo. I gulp down my clay as Sadie munches down her food. Once we both finish eating and drinking, Sadie follows me when I head to the bathroom one more time before going for our walk.
Careful to close the door quietly as I head back into the living room, I don’t notice Sadie walk away from me until a noise from the couch catches my attention.
“Hey Sadie,” Joe says in a hushed, sexy, gruff tone. “What are you doing out here?”
Sadie snuggles her head up on his chest, tucking her nose under his chin.
“Sorry,” I whisper, walking over to get Sadie.
“It’s okay,” he hums as I get Sadie off of him. “I don’t mind. She can stay.”
“I doubt that you’ll want her to. She just ate and I have to take her out.”
“I’ll join you,” he replies, rushing to get up and find his shoes.
“No, it’s okay. Go back to sleep,” I encourage.
I’m really not in the mood for company other than Sadie right now.
After checking his phone, Joe answers, “No, it’s okay. This is when I usually get up anyway.”
I nod in agreement despite not liking the idea at all.
At the park, Sadie relieves herself before Joe and I head down the stairs to the beach for a short stroll. I’m temped to jog, but I refrain since we’ll be trampolining in a few hours. Instead, I take out Sadie’s ball so she can at least run and get out this morning’s tension. This will give her time to stretch before she’s stuck in the condo for a few hours. Neither Joe nor I speak as we stroll alone in the brisk, morning air. Santa Monica is peaceful early in the morning just like Pasadena.
“So, trampolining . . .” Joe begins, finally breaking the silence as we’re halfway back up the beach towards Nathan’s. “I”m excited and a little nervous.”
“Yeah,” I confirm and my body relaxes.
I’m getting the feeling that he’s not going to question me about earlier. While Jared keeps my personal life private, Maggie has the tendency to share on occasion. I’m really hoping that she doesn’t divulge my secrets even though this morning was unusual.
“You must really like it,” he says.
I nod in response and my body continues to release the anxiety. “Do you workout?” I question, immediately chiding myself for asking.
He obviously does. God, look at his body. You can see his muscles under his shirt. That was such a stupid question. My brain is obviously still not fully functioning yet.
“Every day,” he politely replies. “I like to run and lift weights. I love to play any sport that I’m decent at so I’m not stuck in indoors or doing the same thing all the time. I practice Wing Chun and I also know Jujitsu.”
“Interesting,” I respond.
My appreciation for the sight of his half naked body yesterday stirs inside. Well, maybe this will be the way for me to come out of my funk.
“I can show you some Wing Chun sometime if you’d like. Not that you necessarily need help,” he snickers a little. “But, if you’re interested in knowing more options . . . and, you can teach me what you know.”
I ponder his suggestion for a moment, not sure and surprised at the mix of emotions stirring inside of me. “Sure. I’d like that,” I say.
I really would like to learn another style of martial arts. The thought of having more control over my body and what I can do with it intrigues me immensely. The idea of being closer to his body is a bit enticing too.
Sadie bounces up and down a good stretch of the beach chasing after her ball and returning it to either Joe or myself to throw it. Joe and I don’t talk anymore, just stand or walk in calm, peaceful silence.
My level of comfort with Joe is increasing, despite the sexual tension. This man perplexes me. He’s got a very confident air to him, but not cocky. There’s something else that I can’t quite put my finger on. He’s young, rich and handsome. How does he not have a girlfriend?
My mind wanders back to our conversation last night about what Joe said. Did he say he hasn’t or hadn’t found the right one? I can’t remember. Hadn’t. He said hadn’t. What did he mean by that?
After taking turns showering in Nathan’s room since Nathan and Jared are still asleep in my bed, Joe and I sit on the patio talking quietly as we lay on the two lounge chairs and eat some fruit and yogurt to tide us over until breakfast. Sadie is curled up between my legs with her head on my belly.
Our conversation is light, general stuff and nothing intrusive. We get to know each other on a different level and find ourselves laughing half the time. Okay, I get to know him more than he does me because he is telling me stories about his brother’s and himself. It’s delightful to listen and I only ask a question here or there since he’s really willing to keep talking. He seems happy to share and I’m enjoying the sound of his voice.
When I ask, Joe openly shares about his parents. His Mom, Elaine Kensington, comes from the Kensington family who have a long, successful reputation in the shipping industries since his mother’s grandfather, Lord Byron Kensington built the family empire when he was a young man in England. He branched out into real estate and hospitality soon after moving to America with his young, pregnant wife when he was in his early thirties. Elaine was learning the family business while attending Yale as her sister, Olivia, was finishing high school. Elaine was being groomed to take over the family business after her father.
Joe’s father, John Covelli, didn’t come from money, rather an honest, hard-working, blue collar family. His parents owned a small Italian restaurant, called Angelo’s, in a middle-class section of New York that John was expected to take over. While helping the family with the restaurant, John attended NYU for business — John’s college was paid for by scholarships. In his second year at college, John ran into Elaine when she and a few of her friends stopped into Angelo’s to warm up from the cold streets of New York late one snowy night just before closing. It was love at first sight for John.
Over the next few years, John courted Elaine from a distance, believing her family would never approve of his social status until he proved himself. Eventually, Elaine didn’t care and dated John openly despite her family’s protest. Without anyone’s help, and using all of the money he saved from working at Angelo’s since he was ten, John began purchasing small, rundown hotels on the edges of the middle-class and upper-class sections of New York. Properties the rich overlooked, but John had a vision. Buying the first few with mortgages, he’d fix them up and name them after his love. They were each named Elaine’s of whatever street or street corner they were on. Also, they were each styled differently, giving them their own personality and varying degrees of affordability. He wanted to cater to all levels of the working class with the design and feel of the opulence he believed everyone deserved to experience. By the time he bought his fourth building, John had just graduated college, as did Elaine. John had all the mortgages for his first three hotels paid off and he bought his fourth, fifth and sixth properties with cash. Just before buying his seventh property, John scheduled an appointment with Mr. Leonardo Kensington himself, Elaine’s father, with the assistance of Elaine, of course. The two of them visited Mr. Kensington together, and to Eleanor’s surprise, John asked Mr. Kensington for his permission to marry Elaine. Still not pleased with his pedigree, Mr. Kensington apprehensively agreed. Though John did not come from the same status, Mr. Kensington was rather impressed with John, his business sense and his determination to make a name for himself. Just after their honeymoon, Mr. Kensington began to recognize what Elaine had seen in John and overtime was reassured by John’s continued successes. Through his actions, John proved himself a worthy suitor not only for his daughter, but also potentially for the family business. Now, Elaine and John run the family empire together with the approval o
f Mr. Kensington. Since John’s involvement, he and Elaine have tripled the family’s assets and income.
Joe’s older brother, John Jr., is involved in politics in New York, while his wife, Emily, is a happy, stay at home mom with their children, Lily and John I. Then, there’s David and Daniel who are twins, each married with a child on the way, and they’ve started their own private airline company. Anthony is the fourth oldest and most boisterous and somewhat of a womanizer. He bounces from girlfriend to girlfriend and hasn’t quite found his niche in life. Anthony is the life of the party, or brings the party to you. Thomas is the fifth oldest, who is single as well, but not as bad as Anthony when it comes to women. He loves cars but hasn’t decided on what aspect of the car industry he wants to pursue. The sixth oldest is James who is blissfully gay and in love with his partner Allen. James and Allen own and curate an art gallery in Manhattan. Joe is close with all of his family, but he explains that he and James have a special bond. The last of the Covelli boys is Joe. Out of all of the brother’s, he’s the only one, who at an early age, had interest and desire to help with the family empire which is not typical for the youngest. Usually, the first born is the one who takes over.
The age differences between Joe and his brothers are staggering. John Jr. is thirty-six. David and Daniel are both thirty-four. Anthony is thirty-one. Thomas is twenty-nine. James is twenty-eight and Joe is my age, twenty-four. Obviously, they come from happily married parents.
Though he and his family come from money, they actually sound happy and content compared to all of the depictions of high society in television and movies. From how Joe describes them, and what he implies, they seem like a group of people who are friendly, lively, and joyous — people I’d be excited to meet.
“Looks like you two are having fun,” Nathan sings as he pulls open the sliding door.
Joe and I smile in response.
“Is everyone finally getting up?” I ask, hoping I can get breakfast going.
“I think so,” Nathan replies lowering himself on the chair I’m on and snuggles up to me. “Jared is in the bathroom and I think I heard noises from the other room.”
Just Breathe Series (Trilogy Box Set) Page 15
