Sempre (Forever)

by JM Darhower

  “Anyway, I'm hungry and exhausted from traveling,” Celia said, “so don’t expect me to be good company tonight.”

  Haven’s eyes darted to the clock. “I should start dinner then.”

  She started out of the room, but Vincent stepped in front of her. A look of fright flashed across her face as she gasped, and he held his hands up when she recoiled away.

  It was like a train wreck. As much as Carmine hated it, he couldn’t do anything but watch it unfold.

  “Relax, child,” Vincent said. “I was just going to tell you not to worry about dinner tonight.”

  Haven nodded, wrapping her arms around her chest. “May I be excused then, mas— uh, sir?”

  Carmine cringed at the exchange.

  “Yes, you’re excused,” Vincent said. Haven bolted out of the room before the words were completely out of his mouth, and he shook his head. “I should’ve figured.”

  Celia shook her head. “You couldn’t have known. It didn’t even cross my mind.”

  Carmine watched them suspiciously. “Couldn’t have known what?”

  A small surge of panic coursed through Carmine when his aunt let out a surprised laugh. She could read him easily, and he hadn’t considered that beforehand.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Vincent said. “We’ll deal with the girl later.”

  * * * *

  Carmine didn’t see Haven again that night. He hung out in the library in hopes she’d surface, but dawn broke and there was still no sign of her. Giving up, he went downstairs and sat down in front of the piano. He ghosted his fingertips over the keys in the darkness before hitting the opening notes of Moonlight Sonata. He played for a few minutes, the mellow tones swallowing him whole, until he heard a floorboard creaking behind him.

  Cutting off mid-note, he swung around and saw Haven. Her wild hair hung loose, framing an exhausted and solemn face. He patted the piano bench, inviting her to join him, and she carefully sat down. “You really play beautifully,” she said.

  “Thanks.”

  She glanced down at the keys as he started playing again, picking back up on the same note he’d stopped. She listened for a bit, and he could feel her gaze on his fingers. “Is that the only song you know?”

  He shook his head, rounding out the last few notes. “I know a few more. Not as well as I know that one, but I can play a bit of the others.”

  “Are they all sad?”

  “No.”

  “Can you play something happier for me?”

  A sudden rush of irritation struck him at her request, but he fought it back, knowing he needed to learn to control his temper with her. He started roughly playing Jingle Bells, only vaguely remembering the right keys, but he figured it was fitting since it was Christmas. Haven seemed entranced by the melody, her eyes sparking as she watched his fingers.

  The room fell silent when he finished playing the song. “Merry Christmas, bella ragazza.”

  She smiled, whispering, “Merry Christmas,” back to him. He stared into her eyes and leaned forward, wanting to kiss her, when a throat dramatically cleared behind them. He pulled back swiftly and saw Celia.

  “Am I interrupting?” she asked, the smile on her lips telling Carmine she knew she was. He shook his head and started to speak, but Haven ran from the room before he could say anything. He sighed as she disappeared from sight, and Celia sat down beside him on the bench. “So talented.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I butchered that song. I haven’t tried to play it in years.”

  “Haven seemed to think you played it great.”

  “That’s because she’s never heard it before. She thought my fuck-up’s were intentional.”

  “You’re being self-depreciating. Your mother was always proud of her little Mozart, pounding away at the piano keys.”

  He didn’t respond. She knew he wouldn’t, though. He never did.

  “She recognizes me,” Celia said.

  “Who?”

  “Haven,” she said. “That’s what your father and I were talking about yesterday. She saw me when I visited Blackburn.”

  Carmine sat still as that fact sunk in. “Did you ever think about actually helping her when you were there? You couldn’t do anything?”

  Celia shook her head. “Believe me, kiddo. I wanted to help. I talked to Corrado about it, but it was out of my hands. It’s their business and—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said, cutting her off. “Gotta keep business and personal separate, the code of conduct and all that other bullshit. I’ve heard it all before.”

  “I see you’ve been talking to Salvatore,” she said. “Anyway, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a girl upstairs I should try to have a talk with.”

  Chapter 23

  Haven sat on the edge of her bed, feeling out of place. She’d never spoken to Celia before last night, had merely seen her in passing a few times, but something about her presence made those two worlds converge. Her old life, the one of constant pain, was mixing with her new life, where she’d finally started to feel comfortable.

  It made her uneasy. She wanted that feeling to go away.

  There was a light tap on her door. Her stomach felt queasy as she gripped the knob with a sweaty palm. Opening it slowly, she was alarmed to see Celia standing there. “Can I speak to you?”

  Haven nodded. Celia took a seat on the bed, and Haven tried to stop her hands from shaking as she sat beside her.

  “I wanted to tell you a little story,” Celia said. “Would you be opposed to that?”

  A story? “No, ma’am.”

  “Back in the early ‘70s, when I was around eleven, there was an underground war brewing between different, uh, groups. Safe houses were set up around the country for men to get their families out of the line of fire. This place was one of them—it was where my father sent us. It also happens to be where we met my husband, Corrado, and his sister, Katrina. Their father was friends with my father, and they were brought here for safekeeping. Vincent and I never liked Katrina. She’s evil little twit that gets pleasure from hurting people. I’m sure you know that.”

  Haven nodded. It was true.

  “Corrado was always the opposite of his sister. He stayed out of the way and kept to himself. One day we were all out by the river, and Katrina started throwing rocks at me. Corrado just stood there and watched. We thought he was a pushover that let his sister get away with anything. Vincent wouldn’t stand for it, though, and threw a rock back at her. Smacked her in the face and left a big welt.”

  Despite herself, Haven smiled at that.

  “Katrina cried and tattled that Vincent hit her for no reason. My mother was about to whip Vincent for it when Corrado spoke up out of nowhere. This little boy didn’t say a single word for days, and the first time he opens his mouth, he speaks with authority. He said, ‘you shouldn’t hit him.’ He said a person should never be punished for protecting their family, no matter what. My mother was so surprised by Corrado that she let Vincent go.”

  Celia laughed to herself. “That’s my husband. When he speaks, people listen. He’s not callous, even though he sometimes seems that way. He just doesn’t like intervening unless there’s no other option.” She paused. “You’re probably wondering where I’m going with this, right?”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  “I just want you to know I’m not like the people in Blackburn... that my husband isn’t like them. We, too, have to deal with people we don’t want to. It’s something you understand when you involve yourself with a man in this life. They do horrible things sometimes—things most women would be ashamed of their husbands doing—but we know it’s ingrained in them, just as things are ingrained in us. I’ve accepted Corrado for who he is, just as I’m quite sure you accept Carmine, bad attitude and all.”

  Haven was alarmed at the mention of Carmine and tried to keep her expression blank. “I accept both of the DeMarco boys for who they are.”

  Celia smiled. “I’m sure you do, Haven. I don’t worry about Do
minic much. Despite everything, he’s pretty well-adjusted, but Carmine’s different. He has a gentle soul underneath all of that ugly armor he wears, and it’s nice to have someone finally crack through to see it.”

  Her heart pounded frantically. “He’s…” She didn’t know what to say. “…different.”

  “Yeah, he is,” she said. “Although I think what you mean by that isn’t the same as what I mean. But anyway, I don’t want your holiday to be ruined because I’m here. I want you to enjoy yourself. I know you’ve never gotten to celebrate Christmas before.”

  Celia gently stroked Haven’s hair. It was motherly and made Haven’s guilt flare. “Have you been to Blackburn lately?”

  “I haven’t, but Vincent has.”

  It took a moment before her words sank in. “Dr. DeMarco’s been?”

  “Once, as far as I know.”

  It stung Haven, knowing he’d gone, and she internally panicked as she wondered why. She thought back to his words when he took her, his threat about killing her mama if she tried to run. She nearly lost her breath. “My mama.”

  “I’m sure she misses you.” Celia stood up. “I should start dinner.”

  Haven jumped up, having forgotten about dinner. It was the reason she’d gone downstairs so early in the first place. “Oh no, I should’ve already started it!”

  Celia smiled. “Relax. Christmas dinner is my gig. I look forward to it every year. Your job is to enjoy yourself today.”

  Haven was heading for the door after Celia left when Carmine burst into the room, tossing a small present down on the table. He headed straight for her, no hesitation in his steps. His frantic movements caught her off guard, and she took a step away, the back of her knees hitting the bed.

  The moment he reached her, he pressed his mouth to hers. The force of the kiss took her breath away. Running her fingers through his hair, she gripped a handful of his locks and pulled him toward her even more.

  He broke the kiss after a moment, his voice gritty as he kissed her neck. “I think she knows.”

  “She hinted at it.”

  He nipped at her chin. “Oh well, there’s nothing we can do now.”

  “She didn’t seem upset,” Haven said, breathing heavily.

  Carmine sighed as he pulled away. “I know. And Christ, I’m sorry I just attacked you like that.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I liked it.”

  “Did you? Hmmm. Maybe we’ll pick that up later tonight, but I want you to open up my present now.”

  He grabbed the gift he’d tossed down, and she took it with a trembling hand. It was hard for her to find a spot to start at since he'd used so much tape, but she managed to tear a corner. After the paper was off, she stared at the thick blue book with Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary and Thesaurus written on the front. “This is for me?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “It’s not much, but I remember you saying that time that you needed a thesaurus. And I know you were just joking, but I just thought, you know… it might be useful or whatever. I guess. I told you I suck at this gift thing.”

  She stared at him as he rambled, realizing he was nervous. It made her feel better knowing she wasn’t the only one. “Thank you.”

  “It’s not what I wish I could give you…”

  “It’s great, Carmine.”

  She walked to the other side of the bed and briefly reconsidered what she was doing, but he’d put himself out there and she wanted to do the same. “I drew something for you.”

  A smile spread over his face. “I thought you forgot our deal.”

  “I never forget things.”

  He chuckled, all trace of nervousness gone, even though hers had skyrocketed. “I’ll keep that in mind later when I fuck up.”

  Opening the drawer on the stand, she pulled out the piece of paper and held it so he couldn’t yet see. “It’s, uh… it’s not that great.”

  He held out his hand. “I’m sure it’s wonderful.”

  Resigned that it was too late to back out, Haven handed him the drawing. She swallowed a few times, trying to push back her nerves as she sat back down beside him. Besides her mama, no one had ever seen anything she drew. Carmine’s silence as he stared at it flustered her. “I told you it wasn’t good.”

  “Tesoro, this is amazing! I’m speechless, and you think it sucks?”

  She glanced over the picture in his hand. Although she’d never seen one in person, she’d looked up a hummingbird in a nature book in their library and was compelled to draw one. It was the only sketch she’d made that felt right to her, even though it was void of color. “Really?”

  He laughed. “Yes, really. This is the best thing anyone’s ever done for me. I told you I wanted you for Christmas, and you gave it to me. This is beautiful. You’re beautiful, colibri.”

  * * * *

  As soon as they hit the second floor on their way downstairs a few minutes later, a loud yell caused both of them to freeze. Out of nowhere, a form appeared and plowed right into Carmine. Dominic tackled him, throwing him to the ground. Carmine groaned as he hit the floor with a thud, his brother landing on top of him. “Buon Natale, little bro!”

  “What are you doing?” Carmine yelled. “Get off me!”

  Haven heard a chuckle on the other side of the hall. Dr. DeMarco leaned against the doorframe to his bedroom, dressed in slacks and a white button up shirt. “Dom, don’t hurt your brother. He’ll whine if he’s injured and can’t play in the snow.”

  The boys stopped wrestling. “Snow?” they asked in unison, and Haven laughed as both boys yelled, “Jinx!”

  “I said it first,” Dominic declared.

  “Did not!” Carmine said, freeing his arm and punching Dominic in the stomach. Dominic finally released him and stood up, holding out his hand, but Carmine smacked it away and got to his feet on his own.

  “Did it seriously snow?” Dominic asked.

  “Yes,” Dr. DeMarco said. “Go look if you don’t believe me.”

  Dominic ran for the steps and jumped on the banister to slide down it.

  “I don’t know about that boy sometimes,” Dr. DeMarco said, glancing in Haven’s direction. His eyes drifted to Carmine briefly before settling back on her. “Buon Natale. Merry Christmas, both of you.”

  “Merry Christmas, sir,” Haven said. “And thank you.”

  “For?”

  “For including me.”

  He smiled. “Of course, dolcezza.”

  Dr. DeMarco patted her back, ignoring the fact that she cringed from his touch, and glanced at Carmine again before heading downstairs.

  Carmine shook his head once his father was gone. “I think he’s bipolar or something.”

  “Split personalities?” she asked. “Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?”

  “Exactly. How are we supposed to keep up with that?”

  “Maybe we don’t,” Haven said. “Maybe we should just enjoy Dr. Jekyll while he’s here and hopefully Mr. Hyde won’t appear at all today.”

  Carmine laughed. “How do you even know who they are?”

  “Jeopardy.”

  “I think you learn more in thirty minutes watching that show than I do sitting in a classroom for eight hours every day.”

  He started for the stairs again, and Haven smiled sadly, whispering, “I’d trade places with you if I could.”

  * * * *

  Haven stood frozen in the family room as she stared out the window. The backyard was encased in a thin layer of white, thick flakes continuing to fall from the sky like confetti.

  “We don’t get too much snow around here,” Carmine said. “It never really lasts long, but it’s nice.”

  To Haven, nice didn’t even begin to cover it. It was beautiful. She walked over to the window and pressed her hand to the cold glass, a fluttering in her stomach as her eyes burned with tears. She thought of her mama then, the vision of her dancing in the snow. It was her happy spot, the place she went whenever she dreamed. Haven understood it now. She yearned to go there, too. “
It’s perfect.”

  A throat cleared behind her, and she turned around to see everyone had gathered while she was in her trance. She blinked when she realized tears were streaming down her cheeks and brushed them away. “Sorry.”

  Dozens of presents of all shapes and sizes were scattered under the flimsy fake tree, decorated in shiny paper with big bows. Haven sat down on the couch, her nerves flaring back up as she gazed at them. Carmine hesitated but sat down beside her.

  Dr. DeMarco handed out presents, and Haven was stunned when he set two down in front of her. Dominic's name was written on the top one, and she glanced at the second to see unfamiliar handwriting. “Celia,” Carmine said, the same time Haven read the name on the tag.

  The gift from Dominic was filled with art supplies, paints and paper and markers, while Celia's box contained an empty picture frame. “I’m sure you can find a photo to put in it.”

  Haven nodded, overwhelmed by the generosity, and could do nothing but whisper her thanks. She felt almost normal as she watched the others with their gifts, like she was simply a girl enjoying the small things that life had to offer. Their joy was genuine and it warmed her heart to feel like a part of them—like she belonged.

  Despite that, there was still that other part of her that felt guilty. As she gazed around at the living room littered with wrapping paper and plates of cookies, she felt like she was betraying her mama. There would be no gifts for her. No big dinner. No succulent sweets. No laughs. No family. No snow. No love.

  She’d been so lost in her head that she hadn’t noticed the room had emptied until Carmine squeezed her knee. She jumped, startled, and he looked at her questioningly. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, just thinking about my mama.”

  Carmine put his arm around her, pulling her to him. “I miss mine, too. She always loved Christmas.”