My mother said her farewells and hugged Mim like she never wanted to let her go. “We’re still on for tomorrow night?” Mom asked while walking down the short hallway.
“Yes, I’ll pick you both up at six. We’ll have dinner out and then see the Empire State Building and Rockefeller Square.” Mim watched Mom close the door, and then she collapsed on the couch.
“Thanks so much for babysitting my parents.” I pressed her back against the arm of the sofa and stretched her legs over my lap. I had another foot massage in me to give.
She leaned back and closed her eyes. “Your parents are great. We had so much fun, and believe it or not, I caught your dad smiling once tonight.” She opened her eyes and watched me rub her feet. “You know the part where the animals parade down the aisle? Apparently, your dad likes giraffes.”
“Who would have known?” I pulled her toward me, forcing her to scoot across the couch to my lap. “I missed you.” I rained gentle kisses across her cheek until I reached her lips. With mine pressed to hers, I poured my love into her. Kisses were always the ultimate in intimacy for me. With a kiss, you could convey a message you couldn’t describe with mere words. Locked in a kiss, you shared the breath of life.
“I missed you, too, but it wasn’t a chore. Your parents are lovely. Besides, your mom has been telling me the dirt on you.” She ran her hands up my sides and tried to tickle me. “Scared of monsters under your bed? Your mom says she gave you a can of Lysol and told you it was monster repellent.”
“That’s true. I still keep a can on hand just in case.” She slid down my body when I stood up. “I should get you home.” I helped her back into her shoes and walked her downstairs. After flagging down a cab, I put her inside, pressed two twenties into the driver’s hand and watched her be whisked away.
Chapter 15
Mom never stopped talking about Mim. I got the impression she would have been fine not seeing me if Mim were around. Sadly, Mim had some work to catch up on, and my parents were stuck with me.
I skipped class, and we took a tour of my college campus, ate lunch at Katz’s Deli and came home so Mom could rest up for her night.
Mim arrived, looking ready to conquer the world. Dressed in faded jeans, a red cotton tee, and a Yankees jacket, she looked like a local going to a game.
Mom ran to her and wrapped her in a hug. “This one’s a keeper, Luca.”
“I know she is, Mom, but I’m keeping her, not you.” I pulled two hundred dollars from my wallet. It wasn’t money I could afford to spend, but I couldn’t let Mim cover the costs of entertaining my parents. In the scheme of things, a few hundred dollars was a rounding error.
“We’re headed to the Empire State Building and then to Rockefeller Center to watch the skaters before the rink closes next week. I’m going to introduce them to the subway system.” Mischievousness sparkled in her eyes. She lifted on her toes and kissed me. “I’ll have my phone, so call me if you get a break.” She corralled my parents out the front door. “Love you,” she said before she closed the door.
Once alone, I showered and readied myself for the night. Dressed in my standard uniform of a suit and tie, I waited outside of Saju Bistro. Diane had chosen the place and was supposed to meet me at seven, but it was seven-thirty, and she was late.
“Sorry, I’m late.” She arrived out of breath. “I tried to get a taxi, but it’s almost impossible on Saturday night, so I attempted to take the subway, but two lines are down, so I had to wait until I could flag a taxi down. I need a drink.”
“Let’s get you a drink.” With my hand on the small of her back, I escorted her into the restaurant. We were seated right away, and Diane wasted no time ordering a bottle of wine. “You look good, Diane.” She was dressed in a form-fitting red dress and black heels. She could never be beautiful, but she looked like a woman and had a nice figure. “How’s work going? Are you continuing to show the world the new you?” She’d worn her new heels the first week. The second week, she traded her trousers for a skirt. Week three, she let go of her boxy starched shirts and wore tailored blouses. By week four, she was dressing like a businesswoman, with full makeup and hair.
She emptied the first glass of wine, and the waiter immediately refilled it. I sipped on sparkling water. Unless this was an overnight job, which it wasn’t, I never drank. People got sloppy when alcohol was involved, and I’d learned my lessons early.
“People are less shocked now. I got my first piercing and added earrings this week.” She touched the lobes of her newly pierced ears. Tiny diamond studs sparkled in the low light of the restaurant. “I was asked out on my first date.” She sucked down the second glass and refilled it herself.
“Did you say yes?”
She sipped at her wine and nodded.
I flagged down the waiter, and we ordered our meals. Food was an immediate need if she was going to walk out of here. Her nerves were obviously on edge because she didn’t usually drink much.
I reached across the table and held her hand. “Are you nervous about the date?”
“Terrified. It’s next Friday, and I don’t know how to behave.”
“Of course you do. You’ve been the perfect date for me. Just be yourself.” I let go of her hand, which allowed her to pick up her drink and toss it back. “You should slow down. I’d hate for you to get sick.” The truth was, I wasn’t good with throw up. If she got sick, so would I.
She leaned into the center of the table like Jade and River did when they wanted to censor our conversation. “What if he wants to have sex?”
“Are you afraid to have sex?” Was that why she hadn’t asked?
“I’ve had sex, but usually I’ve paid for it, and you guys are required to tell a paying client how good they are in bed.”
Laughter oozed from me because she was right.
“Let me tell you something about most men. Any sex is great sex. They aren’t picky. Just let loose and enjoy the experience. Lay back and focus on the feelings.”
“I feel sick.” She launched from her seat and headed to the bathroom.
By the time she returned, dinner had arrived, but so had another bottle of wine. I was trying to send it back when Diane insisted on having another glass.
“You just got sick. You can’t seriously want more wine.”
Diane patted her pink cheeks. “I didn’t get sick, I just got hot and needed some cold water. Maybe you’re making me hot, Luca.” She didn’t lean into the center. Instead, she blurted out her sentence for everyone to hear. “This is our sixth date, and you haven’t tried to screw me yet.”
The waiter rushed over and asked us to quiet our conversation. Diane poured another glass of wine and told the waiter, “I pay him a lot of money to have sex with me, and he hasn’t.”
Amid the gasps and groans, I pulled out my credit card and paid for dinner. It was time to take Diane home. I’d bill her later.
“Let’s go.” I pulled her from the table and rushed to the exit. Once outside, I walked her away from the restaurant. If she was going to make a scene, better she make it in Times Square, where the crowd could drown her out.
We turned the corner onto Forty-second Street, where she pulled away and turned on me. “I pay you to do what I want. You don’t get to decide. You have to do what I want. What I pay for.” She threw herself at me and grabbed at my belt buckle.
“Stop it, Diane.” I pushed her hands away. “You’re drunk.” The crowd around us was building. There’s nothing like watching a train wreck, and Diane was drunk enough to look like one.
“Stop it? You started this. You changed me. You made me feel attractive, you made me care for you, and want you, and you’ve never tried to have sex with me. Why?” Tears ran down her face.
“Damn it, Diane, you’re making a scene. If you wanted to get laid, all you had to do was ask. Remember, it’s what you pay me for.” Anger raced through my veins. Gripping her wrist, I whipped us around to escape the inquisitive stares of the crowd.
I. F
roze. The air thinned, and the world spun around me. Standing in front of me was Mim, my father, and my mother.
A thousand thoughts rushed through my mind. Oh shit, the subway line to Rockefeller Square was down.
One look, and I knew Mim had witnessed every ugly word. How could I talk my way out of this? I rushed toward her. I’d never known her to be speechless, but she stood there, ripping my heart out with her silence.
“It’s not what you think.”
Diane stumbled on her heels and fell flat on her ass. “It’s exactly what you think,” she sobbed, red-faced and blotchy. “He’s a male whore, but he doesn’t put out for everyone. You’re pretty, maybe he’ll do you.”
“Shut up!” I screamed. “Someone get her a cab.” I looked up and saw my mother. Never in my life had I ever seen a look of disappointment cross her face. I was her pride and joy. I turned to Mim. “Mim, talk to me,” I pleaded.
Mim looked from Diane to me. “Really, Luca? You have sex with women for money, but you won’t make love to your girlfriend? Maybe I was using the wrong approach. Maybe I should have given you my checkbook instead.”
“Luca, why would you cheat on your girlfriend? She is so good for you.” My mother knotted the leather handle on her bag until it pulled free from her purse.
A quick glance at my father showed it was status quo. His head tilted a bit, but his expression was blank.
When my attention went back to Mim, she was mopping the tears that flowed uncontrollably from her eyes.
“Mim. Listen to me. It’s not what you think.” I was no longer able to justify what I was doing, not when I looked into the love of my life’s eyes and watched the light in them dim.
“Stay away from me, Luca.” She put her arms around my mother. “Let’s go. I’ll get you home.”
I fell on my knees, reaching for her rapidly retreating body. “Mim, I love you, I really love you,” I called after her, but she ignored me, shuffled my parents into a cab and sped away.
Chapter 16
I stumbled out of Times Square and walked aimlessly. A kaleidoscope of colors spilled onto the sidewalk in front of St. Mary the Virgin Church. What was waiting for me at home could wait a few minutes longer. I didn’t know how I’d explain what I’d become and why. What I did wasn’t who I was, or was that the lie I told myself?
I hesitated at the entrance of the church. Pulling the handle, I expected it to resist, but the door opened smoothly, as if it was waiting for me to enter. Silence filled the air around me. Not a soul was present, not even Father Tobin.
I walked between two pews and entered the lady chapel. Awash in the soft glow of light, Mary held her perfect son. The beauty of the scene moved me to contemplation. I pulled several dollars from my pocket and heard the clank of my coin hit the floor. I bent down to pick it up. Running it between my fingers, it felt heavy and cold. The coin that had driven my life forward now seemed like a weight on my soul.
I swiped at the tear that ran down my cheek and turned toward the life-size statue of the Pieta. My voice cracked, “Holy Mother, help me. I’ve made terrible choices in my life.” I fell to my knees and sobbed. The understanding in her eyes gutted me. Prostrate in front of her, I spilled my sins.
With my cheek on the cold tile floor, I stared at the coin I hadn’t been able to release. The letters were worn off from my constant caressing. MBA was no longer visible. In a moment of clarity, I realized it was no longer important. The quest for my advanced degree had blinded me to my reality.
I crawled to the candles and lit three more. Light flared from the Blessed Virgin like a benediction. After a final glance at the heavy silver coin, I slipped it into the offering box and walked away, feeling lighter than I had in years.
* * *
Noise floated under the door of my apartment. My prayers of having my parents in bed when I got home went unanswered. Mom was curled up next to Dad, her eyes swollen from the tears she’d shed over me.
She jumped from her seat when I entered. “What were you thinking, Luca?” Grabbing me by the collar, she pulled me toward the sofa and pushed me to sit on the coffee table. “Who was that woman, and what did she mean when she said you were a puttano?” My mother’s shame was so great, she couldn’t say ‘male whore’ in English.
I sat in front of them and hung my head in humiliation. I had to tell the truth. Hadn’t there been enough lies?
“I’m exactly what she said. I have sex for money. She was an angry client who didn’t get what she wanted.”
Mom began to weep again.
Dad kissed her forehead and nudged her off the couch. “Stella, go to bed and let me handle my son.”
My eyes flew to Dad’s. “Handle me?” Fury raced through my brain. “For nearly six years you’ve ignored me, and now you want to handle me? Really, Dad?” I rose from the table so fast, it toppled over with a loud bang.
He glanced toward my closing bedroom door. “Luca, let’s go to the pub down the street.” He didn’t wait for an answer, and I didn’t argue. “We have a lot to discuss.”
I ripped my jacket from the hook by the front door and stomped out of my apartment. How was it at twenty-six, he could still make me feel like a kid?
We walked in silence to Andy’s Bar and Grill two blocks down. Luckily, there was an out of the way table still open. I didn’t want to air my dirty business in front of a crowd. When the waitress arrived, I ordered a shot of whiskey and a beer; Dad stuck with beer.
He looked at me, rubbed the graying whiskers that had sprouted since the morning and sighed. “Why?”
I rubbed at my eyes and hoped the waitress would get here with my drinks right away. I didn’t want to start this conversation without the support of Jack Daniels. Relief swept through me when she walked toward our table with a full tray.
I tossed back the shot and relished the burn that slid down my throat. “You ask why? I’ll give you a why.” I took a long draw of my beer and began. “I needed help, and I had nowhere else to turn.”
“Why didn’t you call?” Just call was the answer to everything, but it solved nothing.
“Call? You wanted me to call. Why? So I could tell you that you were right? That I’d graduated and had no income potential?”
“Being right doesn't make me any less your father, Luca. I would have helped.”
I slammed my fist on the table. His beer sloshed over the side. “It’s been nearly six years since you’ve taken any interest in me. Six years since I’d disappointed you enough for you to turn your back on me.” He looked old and weathered. For a man of fifty, he hadn’t aged well.
Unflappable as always, he sipped his beer and sat back. “Luca, I need to get something clear with you, and I want you to listen to me carefully.
“I built Gregorio Electric for you and your brothers. It was an early inheritance I expected you to accept with pride. When you didn’t, I was understandably disappointed, but watching you make it through four years of college and ask for nothing? You proved yourself a man.”
I dipped my head in shame. “I was drowning in debt when I graduated. Your words played over and over in my head. I graduated with over one hundred thousand dollars of debt, and the first job I was offered paid less than you did.” I raised my head and pulled back my shoulders. If I were going to admit defeat, I’d do it with whatever remaining pride I could muster. “You were right all along.”
“I may have been right about your initial income potential, Luca, but I was wrong about a lot of things. You took the hard route.” Thinking about his words, he chuckled. “What I mean is, you acted like a man. You wanted something different, and you went after it. What father could be disappointed in a son who’s motivated to seek better things for himself?”
Was he telling me he respected my choices? “You’ve acted like you were fed up with me the last six years. Why?” I lifted my glass as the waitress passed. I’d need another drink to get through this night.
“Was I acting disappointed, or was I giving you
space you seemed to need? I don’t recall you ever asking advice, instigating conversation, or seeking me out for anything. Your visits became infrequent, and avoidance was a skill you mastered.”
I sat back and soaked in my father’s words. In hindsight, he made a strong case. I was angry with him for not seeing my point of view, and I never considered his. I must have made him feel like his gift wasn’t good enough, and he made me feel like my choices were wrong.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I wish we would have talked about it.”
“We did, Luca, but neither of us was ready to listen. Tell me, son, how much money do you owe?”
I knew exactly how much I owed, down to the penny. I’d graphed it and logged it a thousand times. “I owe thirty thousand, four hundred and twenty-six dollars, and thirty-three cents.”
His eyes lifted. “That doesn’t seem like much. Why did you turn to this lifestyle when you owed so little?”
The waitress delivered two beers and a shot of JD. “When I left Chicago, I owed over a hundred grand. I knew I needed to put myself in the center of the financial world and get an advanced degree if I was going to have a chance in hell at making it.”
“That’s why you moved to New York?” He sipped his beer. “I’m a bit confused. You owed over a hundred grand, you obviously took out loans for this school. How much does an advanced degree cost?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell Dad how much money I’d spent. Would he change his mind and think I was back to being stupid and irresponsible? No more lies. “Between my undergraduate and graduate degree, I’ve spent over one hundred and ninety thousand dollars.”
He choked on his beer. I waited to see if the light in his eyes darkened with shame, but it didn’t. “You’ve paid off one hundred and sixty thousand dollars already? Tell me, son, how much money do you make?” His brows and beer lifted simultaneously.
Honor Roll Page 12
