by Becky Melby
“That was a close one,” Todd said.
Dani laughed, high and stilted. Like the shoe he’d slipped from her foot.
“Fast work.” She had to know he wasn’t talking about the pizza. “What do you two want to drink?” Had he really put that much emphasis on two? He headed for a rack of glasses. He didn’t care what they wanted to drink.
His father walked in carrying a mountain of dirty dishes on a round tray. On one hand, steady as a rock. He set the tray down and bowed to Dani. “Danielle, sì?” The man was second-generation American, born and raised in Wisconsin, yet he could conjure the just-off-the-boat routine at the bat of a female eye.
“Call me Dani. Nice to see you again, Mr. Fiorini.” She smiled coyly.
If three made a triangle, what do you call four—when one was as old as dirt?
“I did not have time to talk much on Sunday.”The accent deepened. “My son tells me nothing. My daughter says you work for the paper. So you are the journalist friend asking about our history. Si?”
Dani nodded. “I don’t have any specific questions yet, but I’m doing some research, and I’d love to sit down with you in a week or two if you’d be willing.”
“I would love that.” He pulled a basket of calamari out of the fryer.
Nicky filled two glasses with 7UP. Todd’s slopped over the side when he set it down.
The swinging doors opened again. Rena walked in, head down. “One chicken parm, two gnocchi, one white, one red.” She hung the order on the wheel and turned around. “Hey! Dani, you gotta just move in here, girl.”
“Renata! Show a little respect.”
“Sure, Pops.” She ladled minestrone into three soup cups. “What are you guys up to?”
“Todd invited me to his church tonight. I got to hear him play.”
“Poor you. He and Nicky used to—hang on.” She reached in her apron pocket and pulled out her phone.
“Not while you’re working, Rena.”
“Right.” She answered the phone and walked toward the back door. Her lips parted. Her face blanched. Nicky made out four words: “I can’t” and “Five minutes.” Rena turned around, slipping her phone back in her apron. Without looking at anyone, she filled a basket with bread, set it next to the soup cups, picked up the tray, and walked into the dining room.
Todd looked from the swinging door to Nicky. “What was that all about?”
“She’s seventeen.”
“That explains it then.” He took his first bite and mumbled his approval of the pizza, making Nicky wish he’d added the red pepper he’d talked himself out of.
Rena came back in. “Dani?” She shot a glance at Nicky then turned back to Dani. “I’ve only got a minute, and I wanted to show you something in my room.”
Dani wiped her mouth with a napkin, nodded, and slid off the stool. “Okay.”
Their footsteps flew up the stairs.
“What was that all about?” Todd took a swig of soda.
“They’re female.”
“That explains it then.”
Nicky smacked two empty lasagna pans onto the counter next to the dishwasher. Dean Martin’s voice poured through speakers in the ceiling. His father sang along to “That’s Amore” as he ladled marinara into a plastic container. Not an environment conducive to punching your best friend.
“So what’s eating you?” Todd garbled over a mouthful of pizza.
“Nothing.” Nicky’s gaze wandered to the back door.
“Her? That’s it? You’re ticked that I asked her out first?” Todd’s laugh echoed off the ceiling.
His father joined in. “All’s fair, my boy.”
Of all the people unqualified to give a lecture on what was fair in love, his father topped the list. Nicky tossed a serving spoon into the sink and sucked a calming breath. He grinned at Todd. “Why should I be ticked? She’s going out with me tomorrow.”
Todd’s eyes jarred wide. Nicky laughed. “All’s fair, my boy.”
“Go around back to the building next door.” Rena stood on a stool and reached for something near the ceiling of her closet. “He’ll meet you on the other side. There’s a row of bushes. Just give him this and get back here as fast as you can.” Rena’s icy fingers placed a roll of money in Dani’s hand.
Dani closed her fingers around it. “Who’s out there? Jarod? You don’t want him coming to the door because Todd’s here, right?”
“I’ll cover for you. I’ll say you’re trying on some shirts that don’t fit me anymore. It’ll only take a couple minutes. Here.” Rena grabbed a hooded sweatshirt off a chair. “Put this on.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a pile of shirts. “I’ll leave these on the bottom step. Bring them when you come back in the kitchen.”
The hoodie reeked of cigarette smoke. A moment of claustrophobia speeded Dani’s already thundering pulse. She yanked it over her head and took the hair band Rena held out to her.
She still hadn’t said she’d do it.
Rena lifted the sweatshirt hood over Dani’s hair. “Walk down with me so they don’t hear your footsteps. I’ll keep the door to the kitchen door closed. Be careful when you come back in. Open the door slow so it doesn’t squeak.”
“Rena. This is crazy. What’s going on? I’m not doing anything illegal or im—”
“It’s not illegal. I earned this money.”
“But why are you—”
“Do this and I’ll answer questions. You want a story, so go.”
Shutting out the warnings in her head, she followed Rena down the stairs and stepped out into the hot, still night.
The slap of her sandals reverberated off Bracciano’s brick wall as she ran into the alley. The roll of bills in her hand grew warm and damp. Fighting the effects of adrenaline with every step, she passed the grassy space between the restaurant and the two-story garage. Lord, what am I doing? She didn’t wait for an answer she didn’t want to hear.
She slowed her steps as she neared the corner. Behind her, something clanged. A trash can lid. Her breath froze in her throat. She stopped, pressed her shoulder to the wall, and inched toward the corner.
“Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.” She’d memorized the verse from Ephesians years ago.
She shouldn’t be here.
Do this and I’ll answer questions. She ordered trembling legs to walk. Sweat trickled down her sides and she shivered.
In the bushes just feet behind her, a twig snapped. A figure stood between her and the street.
Dark eyes blazed in a thin, pale face as the boy neared. “How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Count it.”
“It’s too dark. I can’t—”
The boy swore and grabbed her left arm. Pain shrieked from the stitched cut. She bit back a scream. A moan escaped.
“Count it.”
Trembling fingers unrolled the bills and held them in a thin finger of light from the street. “Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, a hundred…” Where did Rena get it? What was she paying for? “Two hundred eighty-five.”
“Lucky.” He grabbed her good arm and pushed her bad one against the bricks. Points of silver light shot before her eyes like falling stars. A police cruiser drove by at a crawl, tires close to the curb. She tried to pull away.
His fingers formed a vice around her arm. “Rena trusts you. That doesn’t mean I do. Don’t forget that.” He shoved her toward the alley. “Go!” His foot landed on the back of her thigh. She stumbled but caught herself. When she reached the alley, she heard the soft groan of metal on metal. Flattened against the back of the building, she looked around the corner.
White shoes, incongruous with the black, glowed in the thin light. Silhouetted against the light from the street, the boy crouched on what appeared to be a thick metal door. Curved hinges connected it to the brick wall. He raised his shirt, pulled out something she couldn’t make out in the dim light and tossed it into an opening in the wall. He turned. Lo
cking eyes with her.
Holding her breath she ran into the green space, pressed against the wall, and waited. Footsteps pounded the gravel.
Away from her.
Nicky tossed an empty pizza box at Todd. Rena pushed through the double doors and rattled off an order. Her eyes darted to the door leading to the stairs.
Something wasn’t right.
“What’s going on, Rena?”
“Huh?”
“What’s she doing up there?”
“I had a bunch of shirts for her to try on.” She patted her belly. “Your cinnamon rolls are making me fat. Oh yeah, that scampi wanted vermicelli instead of—”
The door opened. Dani came in with a stack of folded shirts balanced in one hand. Her cheeks were flushed. A pale ring surrounded her lips. “Are you sure I can have these? That’s really sweet of you.”
“Hey, they don’t fit me anymore.”
Nicky recognized the gray one on the bottom. It wouldn’t be too small for Rena if she gained forty pounds. “You’re giving her your Twin Shadow shirt?”
“Yeah. I thought they were cool for a while, but I got sick of their stuff.”
Nicky scraped the griddle as he eyed Dani. “And you, coincidentally, got sick of Nora Jones, and now you’re crazy for metal?”
Dani laughed. “This is my new paint shirt.” She tilted her head to one side. “I minored in art in college.” Her smile wavered when he didn’t return it. She reached for her glass and took a long drink. The side of her right hand appeared bruised. He looked again. Dropping the spatula, he walked toward her. Not bruised. Paint. Mixed with grime. He’d seen the exact same color many times. On his own hand.
She looked up at the clock. “I didn’t realize it was so late.” Faint smile lines curved around her mouth. “I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
“So I hear.” Todd dumped room-temperature pizza into the box. “Here. Take this—in case you don’t find time for supper in your busy schedule.”
Picking up his keys, he led the way to the back door.
“I take it Nicky mentioned I’m having dinner with him tomorrow night.”
“He did.” Todd stared straight ahead, the glow from the dash lending a bluish cast to his features.
“Did he tell you why?” She pressed her hand over the throbbing part of her arm. Her head pounded in unison.
“There’s a why? Other than the obvious?”
She looked out her window. She didn’t have the strength for this. The last time two males had fought over her she was nine and didn’t like either of them. “I wanted some history of the neighborhood for a story I’m working on. Since his family’s been here for generations, he seemed a likely place to start.”
“And he agreed?”
“Yes. Does that surprise you?”
“If I thought he was doing it just for your story, I’d be surprised beyond belief. He hates reporters.”
Now what? Make things worse by saying she wasn’t interested in either of them? It had worked in third grade. Her two pursuers became best buddies—a friendship based on the common ground of tormenting Dani Gallagher.
They passed two boys leaning on a utility pole, smoking cigarettes. “Do you know them?”
“Yeah. Two unsuccess stories of the Boys and Girls Club.” He tapped the steering wheel with an open hand. “I just thought of something.”
“What?”
“You need stories of kids like that, right?”
Saliva sat at the base of her tongue with nowhere to go. “Yes.”
“So if you can go out for dinner with Nicky tomorrow night and call it work, why don’t you go out with me on Friday night and call it work?”
“Uh…”
“You can ride with me on my shift—right here in this neighborhood. You’ll get firsthand stories. What do you think?”
“I think…” It sounds like a conflict of interests. For both of us. “That sounds interesting.”
CHAPTER 18
AREA YOUTH FIND INNOVATIVE WAYS TO EARN MONEY
In a Monday midmorning fog, Dani scowled at the line, pushed the backspace key, and tried to reword it. KENOSHA TEENS CREATE UNIQUE SUMMER JOBS. She rubbed her forehead and took a sip of room-temperature coffee. The website created by a sixteen-year-old boy and his fourteen-year-old sister was colorful and creative. The two charged a flat rate for setting up and promoting garage sales and had almost more business than they could handle. Dani had spent an hour with them and had more than enough material for an interesting story. But it wasn’t the story she wanted to write, and she couldn’t keep her mind on it.
She picked up her phone and dialed Rena’s number.
A sleepy voice answered.
“Good morning. It’s Dani.” She forced a smile into her voice. She needed cooperation not defensiveness. “Do you have plans for the next couple of hours? I’d like to take you out for lunch.”
The time on the computer changed from 10:23 to 10:24. “Uh. Yeah. Okay. I have to be somewhere by two.”
“That’ll work. Can I pick you up in half an hour?”
“Sure. I’ll be outside. Wait. Are you free the whole time until two?”
“I can be.” For the answers you promised.
“Let’s go shopping first. No offense, the retro thing’s cool and all, but you need some girly-girl clothes for my brother.” She giggled. “For you for my brother.”
“Rena. I’m not…” Not what? Not interested? “Fine.” When girls shop, they talk. “We’ll shop.”
Rena sat on the cement step and leaned against the side door. She spent too many afternoons working and never seemed to get her fill of sunshine.
Or maybe it was something else that made her crave light. She was tired of the dark, tired of feeling the need to hide in her secret room with the light off to shut out the world, tired of the person she became after the sun went down. She’d teased Jarod about being a vampire, about sleeping all day and prowling the streets at night. It wasn’t funny anymore.
Ever since the moment at the park when Jarod took off his sunglasses, everything was different. He’d looked at her, but he hadn’t seen her, and for the first time she realized he never had. One of his favorite lines was, “I look good when I’m with you.” It used to make her laugh. Now it made her sick. That was her job, her role in Jarod’s life. He was the winner. She was the prize.
A single cloud slid over the sun, stealing the heat from her skin. Blocking the light. She pulled rolled-up paper and a pencil stub out of her pocket. There was a song in the tug-of-war of black and white. The moment reflected her life. People like Gianna brought warmth and light. People like Jarod blocked the sun.
And where am I?
Child of the shadows
Longing for the light.
Dare not think of heaven.
Dare not long for right.
Child of the darkness
Cowering in fright.
Must not wish for—
The door handle clicked above her. She sat up straight and stuffed the pencil and paper back in her pocket as Nicky walked out and sat beside her. His hair stuck out and eyes narrowed in the light. Nicky was a night person but not by choice. “You look bad. What’re you doing up so early?”
“Todd’s bringing the car over. I’m going up to see Nonno.”
“You’re amazing. You get the world’s best grandkid award.”
Nicky shrugged. “You need to give him another chance.”
“Nuh-uh. Nobody’s ever yelled at me like that in my whole life.”
“If you sit with him long enough sometimes things get clear for a while, and he knows who you are and he talks about the old days. He’d like to see you.”
Rena shivered. “I can’t stand that place. Old people smell.”
“So will you someday.” He nudged his shoulder into hers. “What are you up to today?”
“Shopping.”
“With Gianna?”
“No.” She turned to watch his face. “With Dani.�
��
She hadn’t seen the dimple on his cheek for a long time. He seemed to be trying not to smile, but it wasn’t working. He turned and looked up the sidewalk. Gotcha! “So what’s going on with you two?”
“Nothing.” He pretended to act surprised. “She’s working on a story about some things that happened around here back in the 1920s.”
“And you’re an expert on stuff that happened sixty years before you were born.”
The smile popped through. “So maybe I like her. What do you think of that?”
She copied his smile as a little blue car pulled up to the curb. “I think it’s just fine.”
He stood before she did and opened the passenger door for her. She gave him a minute to poke his head in and say hi. They looked good together, and something had changed in Nicky in the past few days. She wouldn’t exactly call him happy, but he wasn’t blowing up nearly as easily. She got in the car, and Nicky closed the door.
“You ladies have fun.”
“We’ll try.” Dani giggled. So not mature.
“See you tonight.”
Dani’s face turned pink, and she waved with fluttery fingers as they pulled away from the curb.
“You liiiike him. You think he’s handsome.” She said it in a sing-songy voice. “You want to kissssss him.”
The pink turned to the color of the stop sign in front of them. Dani put on the brake and put the car in park. In slow motion, she turned her head then her shoulders. Her eyes got squinty. Her lips tightened. “So this is how it’s gonna be, huh, punk?”
Laughter spewed out. For a second Rena didn’t even realize it was hers. “You got the street thing goin’ on, girl. Scared me right outa talkin’’bout how much you want my bro.” With a smile locked in place for the first time in months, she fastened her seat belt and leaned back. Dani was a sunlight person.
Dani dipped her fork in french dressing then jabbed a piece of lettuce as she tried to figure out how to segue into deeper topics. They’d spent the last hour in the vintage corner of her favorite consignment shop, trying on goofy hats and chunky jewelry. She’d found the perfect dress for tonight—a pale yellow A-line from the sixties. Sleeves just long enough to cover her bandage, with a turtleneck and a bright orange belt around the hips. Rena had tried on a flowered gauze blouse that made her look very feminine. Dani bought it when she wasn’t looking and surprised her with it when they got to the car.
