by Paige Dearth
A few months after Jamie’s death, Emma took Sydney and Izzy out for dinner at Tracy’s Restaurant on Kensington Avenue. After a satisfying meal, they decided to walk a little farther for ice cream. Dusk had fallen and the three chatted as they hurried toward the 7-Eleven to get their much-desired treat. Having bought their ice cream, they stood outside eating it and enjoying the autumn air. Emma teased Sydney about her crush on one of the boys in the house, who she herself didn’t think was good enough for her.
“Hey, ladies,” a voice rang out, sending icicles up Emma’s spine, “how are you doin’ tonight?”
Emma looked at the stranger, her green eyes icy. “We’re doing fine and we aren’t interested in anything you have to say,” she shot back.
“Whoa, bitch!” the man smiled, liking the stunning blonde instantly for her spirit. She would be an asset to his team of hookers, he concluded. “Easy does it,” he went on. “No need for you to get all jacked up. I was only saying hello.”
Emma watched him eyeing up Sydney and then Izzy. She stood protectively in front of her niece, who had dropped her ice cream on the sidewalk in panic when she recognized Rock. Izzy was clearly terrified of the man and Emma could see the fear in Sydney’s face as well.
“Let’s go, girls,” Emma urged them, pushing past Rock.
“Now hold up a minute,” he said with a smile that revealed several gaps from missing teeth. “If you ever need some cookie, well, then I’m the man you’ll want to see.”
Emma stood tall. “We will never want some ‘cookie,’ as you put it. Don’t ever let me catch you coming around my kid again pushing your fucking crack! You stay the fuck away from us and we’ll stay away from you!”
“Well, how about you, Syd? You change your mind yet? I still have an opening for you on my crew anytime you’re ready,” he hissed in a sleazy, perverted tone.
Sydney shook her head and followed Emma as she hustled the two girls away, hearing Rock laughing behind them.
“Fucked-up bitch,” he remarked to one of his usual customers, referring to Emma. “She doesn’t know who the fuck she’s talking to! When she comes around, I’m going to tap that fine piece of ass for a month before I turn her out on the streets.”
Emma didn’t look back, although she was very tempted to. She was conscious of Izzy being there with her and she had to think of the child’s safety first. Besides, the bastard was a big guy and probably carrying a gun.
When they finally turned down a street a block away, Izzy asked, “That’s the scary man we saw before, right, Syd?”
Emma shot her friend a scathing look that made her squirm. “You’ve met him before?” she asked Izzy. “When?” Then her laser gaze focused on her friend. “How does she know him, Syd?”
Intimidated by Emma’s tone, Sydney decided to be upfront. “The last time you were living with us in the house,” she explained, “Izzy and I went down to Kensington Avenue and he came up to us wanting to know if I wanted to sell for him. He was my father’s partner and he’s been after me to work for him for the past couple of years. It scared the shit out of us and we never went back again. We went home that day and locked the doors and windows. Rock is a mean bastard, Em. You don’t fuck with him. He’s the biggest drug lord out here. Most of the pushers and prostitutes work for him. So you need to be careful about what you say to him.”
“Oh, so that’s Rock!” The pimp, Emma realized. Then she chuckled, “I know exactly who he is. My friend Maggie at Doubles works for him. He might be all big and mighty around here, but I don’t give a flying fuck who he is! Nobody fucks with my family and definitely not some overgrown asshole with a name like Rock! I better never hear that you talked to him again. You get me?” She looked at Syd pointedly.
“Yeah, Em. I get you. Let’s just get home.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Emma again thought about Salvatore—knowing that if there was any trouble with Rock that she could always call him. When they were back at home, Izzy finally looked at her aunt. “I’m sorry you were mad at us for talking to that ugly man,” she said. “It’s wasn’t our fault, really. He came up to us, just like he did tonight.”
Emma had a jab of guilt for being so harsh, “I’m sorry too, for being so pushy,” she said sincerely. “I just don’t want anything to happen to either of you. Now how about if we go upstairs, get into our pajamas, and play Monopoly Junior?”
“Yay!” Izzy squealed, running up the stairs ahead of them.
Chapter Ninety-Six
As time passed, a constant flow of people seemed to move in and out of the house. Everyone had just voted in a new girl who would be joining the herd. She would share the bedroom with the three girls, and they all agreed to clean it up a bit before her arrival the next day.
Sydney asked Emma, “Um, do you think maybe it’s time to go through those boxes in the corner? Shit, for all we know, there could be stuff in them we could use.”
Emma agreed and while Sydney took Izzy downstairs to find something to eat for lunch, she stayed behind and started sorting through the contents of the boxes. The first one was packed with all of Isabella’s clothes that she had clearly outgrown. There were a couple of Gracie’s possessions that Emma couldn’t bear to part with and some of her own clothes that were in decent enough condition to share with some of the other girls in the house.
The second box was filled with old bills and papers and a mishmash of things from all over her old apartment that didn’t have a specific purpose: magnets from pizzerias and pens with company names on them, the common things that people collect over time that never had either purpose or value. It was clearly a box of junk. Nonetheless, Emma went through every bit of it to be sure that she wasn’t missing anything she might need.
When she opened the last box, an overwhelming sense of happiness swept over her. Inside were many of her old costumes from Doubles. Had she remembered they were there, she would have used them earlier. She sorted through them and kept a couple. The remaining costumes she would cart off to Doubles to see if they might come in handy for some of the other girls, especially the ones just starting out.
At the bottom of the box she found the duffel bag she had used to carry her costumes to work when she lived with Ethan. She opened it up and found a large bag of cosmetics that she also wished she’d known about. As she dumped the rest of the contents on the floor in front of her, out fell Gracie’s journal. She had forgotten all about it and felt an overwhelming sense of shame that she had forgotten something so important to her. The thought made her feel like a bad sister. In reality, she was in such a frenzy at the time to get away from Ethan that she’d left behind Gracie’s journal.
She picked it up and opened it to a random page so she could gaze at her sister’s familiar handwriting. She gently closed the journal and put it under her mattress. She wanted to read through it again, but knew Izzy would be coming back upstairs soon. She reminded herself to take a look at it later.
As she picked up the duffel bag to put the other items back into it, she noticed how heavy it still felt. She looked into it again, closely examining its interior, and unzipped the inner pocket. Inside was a white cloth with something wrapped in it. As Emma took it out of the bag, her excitement peaked. She knew exactly what the object was, even before she had unwrapped Ethan’s gun. She did a happy dance inside her head. That stupid asshole had left the gun inside the bag! A gun was what she had been wishing for, ever since they’d run into that slime ball, Rock. Now she had one of her very own that no one else knew about.
There was one other manila folder inside the bag, filled with various papers that Emma knew had belonged to Ethan. She forced herself to go through the folder and found useless bills and old pay stubs from the time he had actually held a job and hadn’t yet resorted to sponging off her. At the bottom of the folder was a lone document with the following words printed at the top: “DNA Paternity Test.” As Emma quickly scanned down the sheet of paper, she found Isabella’s and Ethan’s
names at the bottom. The results of the test were 99.8 percent positive that Ethan was not the father of Gracie’s child.
“Fuck!” Emma exclaimed.
Her mind raced with thoughts, some of them angry, others bitter. It infuriated her to think that the motherfucker had blackmailed her into going back to the apartment by threatening to legally take Izzy away from her. All the events that had led up to Emma being back in Kensington had followed from her mistaken assumption that Ethan was her niece’s father. Then her head pounded with gut wrenching questions: if Ethan wasn’t Isabella’s father, then who was? Why would she lie to me about who she slept with? Or was I so burdened by my own hardship that I had missed signs that my little sister was looking for love from other people?
She had so many questions that would have to remain unresolved, because the only person who knew the answers to them was Gracie. It didn’t really matter to Emma who Izzy’s father was, because as far as she was concerned, she herself was the only parent in the child’s life. The little girl was as content as she could possibly be in their current situation. She had people around who cared for her and loved her deeply. Emma had stopped being the praying type for a long time, but if she had still believed in the power of prayer, she would have prayed for forgiveness for failing to be there when her sister had needed her most. All the lies her sibling had resorted to, all the secrets that were slowly being unveiled told Emma that more had been going on in Gracie’s life than she could ever have imagined.
Emma slipped the paternity test report into Gracie’s journal and shoved it back under the mattress. She turned and picked up one of her costumes, the one Alessa had given her when she was just starting out at Doubles. Holding it in her hands, she decided to drive over and see her old friend before the end of the following week. At least when she was with Alessa she gained hope that her own life would turn out better.
Chapter Ninety-Seven
The following week Emma put Isabella in the car and drove to West Philadelphia. She had planned a surprise visit for Alessa. It was early on Friday evening and Emma was hoping to find her friend at home. As she parked in front of the row house, she saw Remo standing on the porch with a glass of wine in his hand. As she and Izzy made their way up to the porch, her face lit up with a smile of anticipation at the prospect of seeing her old friend who had helped get her started at Doubles. Remo gave them both a warm, welcoming look.
“Remo, it’s so good to see you!” Emma said. “I was hoping to find you guys home tonight.”
Something in his demeanor told her that all wasn’t well, although he smiled pleasantly and said, “It’s good to see you, Emma. You too, Izzy. Man, you’ve really grown, haven’t you?” His expression turned solemn as he looked at Emma again before turning to her niece. “Izzy, why don’t you run upstairs and say hello to Lucy,” he suggested. “I know she’ll be happy to see you.”
After Isabella had disappeared into the house, Remo turned his attention to Emma. “Alessa is gone,” he announced, his face lined with worry. “She’s been missing for three days now.”
“What happened to her?” Emma asked, making a heroic effort to conceal the turbulence of her own emotions.
“We’re not exactly sure, but we suspect that Harlin, the guy she lived with in North Philadelphia, has taken her,” he explained, his voice cracking.
Overcome by the anguish of not knowing where Alessa was or if he would ever see her again, Remo could hold himself back no longer. His face crumpled and his hands shot up to mask his grief. As his shoulders shook, Emma wrapped him in her arms. She felt terrible, remembering the time she’d actually contemplated killing Harlin but had thought better of it because she wasn’t sure if she could contend with the wrath of his whole gang. She now regretted her decision bitterly. If she had just thought it through and shown a little more courage at the time, Harlin would no longer have posed a problem and Alessa would be here with them now.
“I remember Harlin,” she now said in a voice dripping with hate. “Someday he’ll get what’s coming to him. I’m sorry about Alessa, Remo. How’s Lucy doing?”
“She’s trying to remain hopeful. She keeps telling me that any day now the police will find Alessa or she’ll come strolling back through the door. Alessa is the only mother Lucy has ever known. She was living on the streets when Alessa found her and she managed to get themselves both a home. Alessa is the most important person in Lucy’s life. Mine too. We’re both hanging in there as best we can. The police are still looking for her.”
“I’d like to see Lucy, if that’s okay with you,” Emma said tentatively.
Remo nodded and they made their way up to the apartment, Emma’s anger spurred by further hostile thoughts about Harlin. When they reached the door to the apartment, Remo paused.
“Lucy’s a very strong person, but she may break down when she sees you,” he warned her. “Alessa talked about you often, wondering how you were doing and where you’d ended up.”
Emma nodded and prepared herself to be brave for Lucy. They found her and Izzy cuddled together on the sofa, watching Barney on TV. Lucy looked up at Emma and stumbled to her feet, running up to give her a long, tight hug. Both of them were crying.
“I’m so sorry, Lucy,” Emma said with feeling. “But I’m pretty sure the police will find her. I wish there was something I could to do to help, though. I didn’t know about this or I would’ve come sooner. Is there anything I can do for you now?”
“No,” Lucy said. “Alessa really liked you. She told me how much fun the two of you had when you worked together.” She pointed to Izzy and tried to lighten the moment. “Well, this one sure got a lot taller,” she quipped. “What are you feeding her?”
Izzy didn’t know what was going on, but sensed that something had happened to Alessa. Why else would everyone be crying? But she went ahead and answered Lucy’s question. “She feeds me Cheerios,” she chimed in. I’m going to be tall, just like my Aunt Emma!” She beamed with pride as she uttered the words.
There is nothing like an innocent child to lighten a dark moment, Emma thought.
Remo went into the kitchen and came back out to hand Emma a glass of wine. “Will you stay for dinner?” he asked, grateful for the company and the diversion it offered from his dreary thoughts.
“Are you kidding me?” Emma responded, winking at him. “I haven’t forgotten what a good cook you are!” Then she turned to her niece. “How ’bout it, Iz? Should we stay and eat dinner with Remo and Lucy?”
“Are you making macaroni and cheese?” Izzy asked, seriously considering the offer.
“Well, it just so happens that I am,” Remo replied. “Chicken cutlets too. Is that all right with you, Miss Isabella?” he couldn’t resist teasing her.
“Yeah!” Izzy answered excitedly, then turned to Lucy. “Can we have ice cream for dessert?”
“Of course!” Lucy told her, matching her enthusiasm. “You know me. It’s not a meal unless ice cream is involved.”
They spent the evening enjoying their meal and catching up on each other’s news. Emma told Remo about Salvatore, but refrained from mentioning his Mafia connections. She did confide, however, that he was married and had a son. Remo felt truly sorry for her. He and Alessa had always thought of her as a terrific person and had hoped her life would turn out well. He knew that Alessa would also be sad for her when he told her the news.
When Emma left after dinner, she exchanged phone numbers with Remo, promising to call and check in. “Don’t worry,” she reassured him, “the police will find her.”
Driving back to Kensington with Izzy, she reminisced about Alessa and how helpful she had been when the two had first met at Doubles. They hadn’t been the closest of friends, but Alessa had been the first person to help her without asking for anything in return.
Emma’s thoughts drifted to Harlin and the way he had harmed Alessa and her family. Her hatred for him flared up again and she wished she knew his whereabouts so that she could kill him herself. She wo
ndered if people were just born mean or turned that way because of the way life had treated them. She remembered being an innocent child, but time and the ordeal of living with her father’s cruelty had robbed her of empathy for other people. No one is ever born mean, she decided. Life turns them that way.
Chapter Ninety-Eight
The next afternoon, Emma felt tense and restless before going to Doubles. She tried to relax, but she knew it was impossible. She couldn’t stop obsessing about Alessa and the uncertain fate that awaited her and her family. The disturbing news about her missing friend fueled her aggression toward those sadistic people who walked the earth and took pleasure in ruining the lives of others. In an effort to distract herself, she reached under her mattress and pulled out Gracie’s journal.
Emma sat on her bed and looked at the journal in her hands, suddenly reluctant to open it. Eventually she did and fanned through its pages. It was about three-quarters full with Gracie’s thoughts, and as she continued to rifle through the diary, feeling the soft breeze from the turning pages on her face, she noticed an entry on a page toward the very back of the book that she hadn’t noticed the first time she’d read it. She flipped back the pages until she found the entry. As her mind absorbed the words, her gut twisted.
I didn’t think my life could suck any more than it already did. I wasn’t able to sleep for days because of what Ethan had done to me. So my friend gave me five of her mom’s Valiums. I was so happy when I felt my body relax as I became sleepy from the pills. Then I woke up to find Pete having sex with me. I had been in such a deep sleep from the pills I hadn’t even felt him taking off my underwear. When I tried to scream, he jammed my panties into my mouth. I tried fighting him, but I couldn’t make him get off of me. He told me he’d kill me if I kept it up. So I stopped fighting him and let him do what he wanted. When he was done, he told me he would much rather have fucked my sister. He laughed and said that all the time he was having sex with me, he had to pretend it was Em, because I was an ugly little freak who got all the bad genes from my parents. He said if I told anyone about what he had done to me, he would deny it and everyone would think I was lying. He said Ethan would stick up for him, anyway. When I got up to go to the bathroom, I was bleeding. He hurt me really bad, even more than Ethan ever had. Pete had just kept pushing himself inside of me and it had taken forever for it to be over, even after I had stopped fighting him. God, how I hate him! I hate both of them!
