by Lise Horton
She left her phones off and plunged back into work. She was so engrossed, it was a surprise to see it was nearly eleven. With a headache and class at eight-thirty, she took a couple of aspirin and went back to bed. She was afraid to have her phone turned off in case of an emergency—such as a rampaging stalker breaking into her apartment—so she turned it back on. Then she lay in the dark waiting for it to ring. Wishing he would call, yet dreading the thought.
But by midnight he hadn’t. She should have known. He was too protective. Knowing she was recovering from her injuries and had to teach in the morning, he’d let her rest.
Or perhaps he had simply let her go.
* * *
He didn’t sleep all night. He had taken Friday off so on Monday he had to be back on the job by six-thirty. He felt like shit when he rolled out of bed and had to dress and drive to the site a few blocks from her building. The upside was he might be able to corner her on her way to school. Naturally, he got sidetracked by problems with a contractor and by ten realized that she’d already gotten past him. He also kept watch for Boxer, and to avoid thinking of Serafina, he concentrated on ways to get him out of the picture.
Lunch came and went. He called the hospital and got an update from Cara, and then tried to reach Serafina again. She kept her phone off during classes, so all his calls went right into voicemail. Her landline was unplugged, and it was obvious the doormen at her building had been told not to let him up, or even tell him if she was home or not. If he was going to get her alone to talk to him, he was going to have to trap her into it. He was hurt, but above all he was pissed. Her problem was obviously something painful and serious—at least in her own eyes—but to refuse to even see him or speak to him face-to-face was immature, plain and simple.
Having decided to mirror her routine, he’d visit her apartment building at the end of the day. He’d either corner her, or if he was very lucky, catch Boxer in the act of stalking her. And the fucker should be worried. If he got his hands on him, Boxer would live to regret it. Probably.
* * *
Every plan failed. By the end of the week he was beyond frustrated at his inability to track her down. The doormen at her building were staunchly protecting her. He never saw her leave or return home, but the upside was he never spotted Boxer stalking her either. He left a dozen voicemail messages that ranged from calm to raging, with no response.
He’d visited Cara every day until she was released and then stopped by her house in Douglaston after that. Everyone was anxiously awaiting Angelina’s release, which appeared to be at least a week or more away. Caution was the byword and while he sensed his sister’s growing depression at not having her baby home with her, it was safer to have her as healthy as possible before she was released. But he’d gotten a chance to see the baby several times from a distance and she was a little beauty.
Gia, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. Cara said she’d called and stopped by a few times, but otherwise, his baby sister was keeping a very low profile. Whether because of Serafina’s cutting him off, which Gia would no doubt blame him for, or because she was still mad about his run-in with her and her kinky lovers, he didn’t know. He was going to have to get her to sit down and talk too, but he’d tackle that after he dealt with stubborn Serafina. He could only cope with one female crisis at a time.
By the end of the week he decided to play hardball. He was determined to talk to her and convince her that whatever the problem was, they’d work it out. Together. He’d begun to doubt himself as the days passed without a sighting or word from her. He could talk sense into her, but if she refused to even see him, she was making it impossible.
His fail-safe plan was to stake out her apartment on Sunday. For as long as it took. He’d been at dinner with his parents on Friday, and they’d puzzled over everything with him. She’d be home on Sunday but at some point would have to leave her apartment. He’d plant himself in the lobby first thing in the morning and make like one of those guards at Buckingham Palace. He’d wait until she showed and then he’d make her talk to him.
Chapter Fifteen
Her pain remained crystalline sharp as the days passed. Her class load was insane and between work and fears about Boxer percolating persistently in the back of her mind, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep every night, only to drag out of bed feeling as drained as if she hadn’t slept at all. It got so bad that keeping up with her job was all she could handle.
Her doormen diligently reported to her every morning and evening. She’d had no further visitors, and by the time she climbed out of her cab in front of the building on Friday night she’d begun to hope the entire thing with Boxer was blowing over. Or maybe stress and her chaotic situation had made her imagination run wild. She struggled into the apartment, feeling exhausted, lugging two classes’ worth of papers that would be the last grade before final exams. The first week of May always signaled the annual mad dash by students to make up for lost time and weak first semester grades. They bugged her for consultations and makeup and extra-credit work they could complete before doomsday: the end of the term and final exams the week before Memorial Day. It was going to be a long weekend, but as she had done for the entire week, she settled down to spend the evening tackling all the papers. With an unappetizing microwaved supper and a cup of chamomile tea and the good, the bad and the ugly of student writing, she spent a quiet night in the solitude of her home, studiously avoiding painful thoughts of Nick Stellato.
* * *
She woke bleary-eyed early Saturday morning and sat back down with the papers. She was making enough headway that she could finish up and relax on Sunday. So it was with both trepidation and annoyance that she answered the buzzer at noon.
“Professor Luca, you have a visitor.”
“Is it a man?”
“No, miss. It’s a very nice lady named Mrs. Stellato. And it must be your lucky day because it smells like she brought you something good to eat.”
The last person she would ever have expected, and the one person she could not turn away.
“That’s fine, Tony. Let her come up.”
Hastily combing her hands through her hair, she gave up on improving her appearance, thankful at least, she hadn’t been lounging around in her nightgown. When a brisk knock sounded, she took a fortifying breath and opened it.
“Hello, Serafina.”
“Hello, Mrs. Stellato. Come in.”
Nick’s mother walked in and looked around with a maternal focus. “Small but very nice.” She held up her recyclable bags and pointed. “That the kitchen?” At Serafina’s nod she marched in and deposited the bags.
“Let me help you.” She squeezed into the miniscule room that rarely saw activity. The only equipment she ever used was the coffeemaker and microwave. Inside the fridge were only basics and condiments, and the freezer was stocked with Lean Cuisine and Healthy Choice frozen meals.
“My God, how do you cook in here? Oh, wait, I forgot, you don’t cook.” She gave her a wink before returning to unloading the bags.
The entire Stellato family was incredibly confounding.
“Would you like some coffee, Mrs. Stellato?” Unfortunately she caught the glance the woman gave her old, tired Mr. Coffee. Her watery brew wouldn’t hold a candle to fresh-brewed espresso.
“Bah. I’ve got something better. We need to talk, so I’m going to loosen you up. She pulled a bottle of beige liqueur out of one of the bags and held it up triumphantly. Bailey’s Irish Cream.
“My husband thinks this is a silly girl drink, but I love it and for you and me, it will be just right. Like a milkshake, with a kick.”
Obediently, she fetched two of her mother’s cordial glasses while her guest pulled out the ice cube tray and filled them with ice. She shook the bottle, then poured and handed a glass to her before returning to the living room.
“Come, we’ll have a few drinks. By the way, you can freeze this and it’s extra yummy. But it can knock you on your ass, so watch out.�
�� She nudged her with her hip and chuckled, exhibiting a most unmotherly side.
She took the drink and followed Nick’s mom back into the living room, her nervous curiosity growing. They both sat and, for a moment, just sipped. Mrs. Stellato smacked her lips and then focused her sharp gaze on Serafina. Here it came. Was she going to be taken to task for hurting Nick’s feelings? All she could do was think before she spoke and hope not to make things worse.
“Okay. Now tell me what happened.”
“Sorry, I beg your pardon?”
“You looked terrible at the hospital, you talk to Cara and then leave without a word, and Cara tells Nick you don’t want to see him anymore. She’s not telling anybody what you said, not even Nick, and he’s wandering around like a wounded animal. So, talk to me so we can make it right.”
“Mrs. Stellato, I’m sorry, I really don’t think talking about this can help.”
“Lord, save me from people who think too much.” She drained her glass and disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a full one. She took her seat and studied Serafina intently.
“Listen to me. I don’t know you very well, but I like you. I’m a mother. I’ve raised five kids, and I know a thing or two about boys and girls and human nature. You and my son haven’t known each other a long time, but sometimes one day, one hour, can be enough. The two of you are good together, and I think that’s worth trying to fix, no? What happened? What upset you?”
She shook her head in obvious frustration at Serafina’s continued silence. “I know from Nick that you are all alone in the world, that you have no family. That must be so hard. No one to talk to, no one to lean on and no one to share all the good things in life. But you are so generous. You are a wonderful teacher, and I can see that you care about your students. You’re a good, smart girl. You’ve helped my family. Not just Nick, but pitching in with Cara, and Gia is crazy about you and working hard because she respects you. You’ve had your own troubles, but you haven’t let them stop you. Now. I want you to listen to me. I am here to help you. I don’t judge and I don’t tell tales, and maybe I can help you understand what you’re going through, or maybe help some other way. Won’t you let me?”
Explaining herself to Mrs. Stellato made her cringe. She’d never understand her fears and how awful she felt about severing their ties and hurting Nick. On the other hand, perhaps if his mother could explain it to him dispassionately, he would understand.
“I don’t want to hurt Nick, Mrs. Stellato.”
“Why don’t you call me Amelia? We’re going to be confidants, after all.”
“Nick is terrific. Please know this has nothing to do with him. Not really. It has to do with me. I’m doing this because I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Let’s not dance around, girl. Spit it out. Cara says you told her to tell him goodbye.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
Deep breath. She gripped her glass and looked at Nick’s mom.
“I can’t have children. I was told many years ago. I’ve watched him with his niece and nephew and he loves children, he’s wonderful with them. He deserves a family of his own. I can’t give it to him.”
“Oh, my Lord, Serafina. Who told you this?”
“Doctors. Two of them, in fact, when I was fourteen.”
“What did they say was the reason?”
“It’s difficult to explain—it has to do with medicine my mother took when she was pregnant with me and the side effects they believe the drugs had on me. But it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I cannot have children—with Nick or anyone else.”
“All right, then. First, let me say this. Cara had a lot of trouble getting pregnant, every time. She and Rocco tried for several years and then had to see a bunch doctors for help. She had two miscarriages and even once she got pregnant, she had difficult problems each time. Just as you saw. This last time it was a happy accident after they’d actually stopped trying. If you want children—you—not for Nick or me, or anyone else but just because you want to be a mother, I will give you the names of her doctors and you can have more tests. Fourteen was a long time ago and maybe your condition has improved, or they have answers now that can help. Second, why don’t you trust my son to make his own decision? It’s not fair this way. Besides. How do you know he is so set on having children?”
“Cara said so.”
“Forget Cara. Listen to me. She’s my daughter, but I tell you she’s been obsessed with having babies ever since she was little. She drove poor Rocco crazy over it and she’d probably have a dozen if she could. But she just assumes that everyone is like her, wanting to have kids and lots of them. She’s been talking to Gia already, for heaven’s sake, about finding someone to marry and make a family with. And you can see our Gia is made of completely different stuff than Cara.” She shook her head and looked at Serafina with compassion. “Serafina, Nick loves kids, yes. But I’ve never heard him talk about getting married to have them. Sure, he probably just assumes his life will include children, but if he finds someone—you—and wants you in his life and you can’t give him children, he may decide that’s all right. He may decide being a father isn’t what he wants at all. He might decide that with all the orphaned children in the world, he doesn’t need to have them of his body. Honestly, I can’t tell you one way or the other, and that’s why you must talk with him.”
She had no response to the statement. She’d assumed he would feel so strongly about having his own family it would be a deal breaker if she couldn’t.
“Serafina, do you care about my son?”
That, at least, was an easy question to answer. “Yes, I do.”
“Good. Because I know he cares about you. Let me tell you something. He has never been a ladies’ man. The ladies seem to think so, but he doesn’t. I’ve watched him ever since he was in high school. He’s never gotten serious about any girl he dated, and he’s always had a good reason why. He wants a woman in his life who wants more than just a handsome husband who makes a good living. He’s a complicated man. And smart. He loves so many things. Take his house upstate. Do you know how excited he is you want to spend time there with him? He took a girl there once before and she hated it. She complained about all the things he didn’t have. Shopping, restaurants, room service, casinos. She even said she was afraid of the wild animals.” Amelia snorted. “Like what, killer deer?’ She threw up her hands.
“He told me about what he wants to do when he takes you there. All the things he wants to show you. He’s built that place with his bare hands and he’s dying to share it with you. I know my boy, Serafina, and he’s falling in love with you.”
“As nice as it is to hear that, he and I have known each other barely a month and I haven’t even seen him in almost a week. It’s crazy to believe either of us could really be in love. It doesn’t happen that fast.” Her pain testified to the falseness of her claim.
“Oh, Serafina, how wrong you are.” She got a secret smile on her face. “It only takes a moment, a single moment, and you can know.” Her tone carried the weight of great emotion. “You look into a man’s eyes, he takes your hand and smiles and it’s like you can see right into his soul. And your heart knows his soul and yours are perfect mates. It’s like lightning. It takes your breath away.”
She looked at his mother and recalled how bowled over she’d been by Nick, by the man, that very first evening, that first kiss.
“You want to know about fighting for the man who is the love of your life? I met Nick’s father when I was fifteen. He was nineteen and my father tried very hard to keep us apart. Santo was too old. Too slick. Not good enough for Frank Montana’s daughter. He had no prospects, he laughed too loud. My father had a different reason for every hour of the day. But me? Santo was handsome, cool, and when he touched me, I thought I was going to faint. My mother understood. She would just nod when my father screamed that I wasn’t allowed to see him anymore, but she never tattled on me. She knew I snuck out to see S
anto, and she kept my secret. Because she understood. My father was a loud man, but he was a good man. He protected his family and he was a good husband. But she went against him because she knew it was right for me. My father did find out, but I was seventeen. I told him I’d leave home, marry Santo and move away. My mother fought for me. She told him, ‘Your daughter is smart and she knows what she wants. Leave her be. You can’t live her life for her.’ And he gave us his blessing. I’ve never looked back, and I’ve never regretted it. We’ve had trials, but we got through them together. We’ve never stopped loving each other. And yes, I see that blush on your face, and that’s what I’m talking about. My husband and I aren’t all that old, you know, and I feel just as young with him as I did at seventeen. I may look older, but I’m young in my heart and that’s what counts. When I kiss him it feels like it’s the first time—every time. So it never dies when you truly love and understand someone. It never fades or gets old. Here’s to love!” She drained her second glassful of Bailey’s and looked hard at Serafina.
Her heart twisted a little bit. What Amelia spoke of was the stuff of romance novels and fairy tales. Life wasn’t that simple. The course of love never, ever ran that smoothly and there were some obstacles it could not overcome. Still, she looked down at her drink and tried not to hope.
“You should give Nick more credit. Talk to him. Tell him the truth and let him make his own choices. Don’t throw away something precious. Those other women never made him crazy like this. You owe him, but you owe yourself a chance too. I think you are a strong young woman. Don’t lose heart when it’s something so important.”
