Lily’s natural bounce to her step is back as she gets out of the car and moves to the entrance of the Starbucks.
“Are you sure you didn’t have a cup or two already before I picked you up?” I tease.
After a scolding look and a quick stick of her tongue out at me, Lily disappears behind the door and looks me straight in the eye as she purposefully neglects to hold the door open for me.
The laugh I was holding in earlier that I thought had been extinguished by our previous conversation finally does escape me, and the feeling I get along with it is addictive. With a few long strides, I make it to the door and practically chase Lily the rest of the way inside.
“I’ve learned my lesson,” I concede when I finally join Lily in the ordering line. “Never make fun of a girl’s addiction to coffee.”
“Don’t even joke about coffee,” she admonishes me with a serious tone that is completely betrayed by the slight grin on her face. “You must treat coffee with the utmost respect, for it is the greatest substance to exist on this Earth. It is the fuel behind mankind.”
I throw my hands out in front of me in defeat, easily giving in on this fight as we take a step forward as the next in line at the register.
Lily greets the employee behind the counter before placing her order. “I’ll have a grande half-skinny extra hot triple shot latte with whip, please,” she recites with absolute ease.
The employee doesn’t bat an eye at taking the order from her before turning to me, eagerly awaiting my order. A quick glance at the menu only serves to intimidate me more. I can immediately tell it will be no help. I don’t have a clue what to say, so I stick with what I know. “I’ll just have a small black coffee, please.”
That’s when everything seems to stop. It feels like the entire population inside this Starbucks is looking at me like some kind of freak.
“Wait. Hold on.” Lily repositions herself in front of me, putting herself between me and the employee behind the counter and pointing her finger to my chest. “You did not just order a small black coffee.” She doesn’t even give me a chance to reply before swinging around to the employee with a decisive nod over her shoulder at me. “He’ll have what I’m having.”
Everything seems to go back to normal–the end of the world no longer imminent–as the employee rings up the order at the register. I fish some cash out of my wallet before Lily even has a chance to open her purse, and she doesn’t fight me when I pay for our drinks.
She leans toward me and whispers, “You owe me for bailing you out on your drink order anyway. We need to have a discussion about that.”
I collect my change just as Lily drags me by the elbow toward an empty table next to the window.
“Small black coffee? What planet are you from?” she questions in disbelief as we take our seats. “This is Starbucks. You get extra points the more complicated your order is.”
“Sorry, I’m not fluent in whatever that language was you were speaking.”
“Hopeless.” Lily throws her hands up in the air in mock frustration before returning her eyes to meet my gaze, her look becoming more serious. “Have you really never been to Starbucks before?”
In the direction of this conversation, I can sense the reemergence of that uncomfortable exchange from the car. “I’m used to Folgers at home and gas station coffee on the road. That’s just who I am as a coffee person. Take it or leave it.”
“I will convert you yet,” Lily declares with a look of absolute determination in her eyes. “Though I’m starting to feel like your waitress here. You let me choose your beer for you at the tavern and now I’m ordering your drinks at Starbucks.” She gives me a playful shove. “I’m off the clock, damn it.”
“Okay, you got me there,” I admit. “But think about it, you’re doing a good deed keeping me hydrated and preventing my total humiliation at the same time.”
“I prevented nothing of the sort. I bailed you out, but you were well past the embarrassment stage at that point.”
She gets up from the table, leaving me with my slightly bruised ego as she makes her way to the pickup area just as our drinks are set out on the counter. When she returns with the cups and sets mine down in front of me, the delicious smell of coffee wafts in the air around us. I’ll admit my mouth is salivating at the smell of it.
Lily holds her cup between her hands and seems to study it, or maybe she’s just not sure what to say now that she’s proven how inept I am at making a worthy drink order. Her eyes never leave the cup even when she finally starts to speak. “You know I never did catch your last name, Dante.”
There’s a slight twist in my heart at being indirectly asked this question. The world only knows me by my fake name, though I at least got to keep my real first name. Even when my grandparents were ruthlessly questioned by the authorities after they were arrested, they never revealed my first name. Their lack of cooperation was the majority of the reason why they were dealt such harsh sentences and served their full time.
Something deep inside me screams to tell her my real last name, to beam with pride over who my parents are and where my family came from despite the world’s opinion of them as criminals.
“Martes.” I give her the answer she needs to hear, though it’s hard to hide the disappointment in my voice at saying it.
“Dante Martes.” She holds her hand out to me as if this is the first time we’re actually meeting. “I’m Lily Alistair, short for Liliana.”
I never could have imagined her name being more beautiful and appropriate than Lily, but there it is, making her shine even more brightly before me. “Pleasure to meet you, Liliana.”
After our formal introductions–taking a step back to get this started the way it should have been in the first place–I find myself enjoying every minute with this woman in front of me even more. My face hurts from laughing the further we get in conversation. In the hour it takes us to sip through our ridiculously fancy coffees, I find myself leaning more toward a certain path and wondering how I ever thought to even consider the other path this morning.
I won’t settle for the status quo. I choose something more: happiness, life, potential.
A future that is my own, not based off the hand fate dealt me.
11
Time is an interesting thing. It keeps going and going, plowing ahead with nothing to stand in its way while the entire world with which it coexists is constantly changing. From the stories of my family I know how easy one’s life can change in just a few hours or minutes or seconds. I never experienced it for myself until this morning.
Pulling into my driveway after dropping Lily off at her house, I feel like a completely different person than the lost and indecisive nobody who left here just hours before. Clarity and direction came to me much quicker than I expected, all thanks to one person.
Lily.
I thought I would dread the impending conversation with my parents more as I park the car and approach the front door of our house, but I find myself strangely calm. Confidence swells within me as I unlock the door and step inside. My nerves remain completely unaffected as I see my parents sitting together on the couch in the living room, my sudden entrance clearly having interrupted whatever conversation they were just having. Their expressions are difficult to read. This conversation is either about to go spectacularly well or go up in flames.
“Hey,” I greet them to break the heavy silence between us. I throw my keys on the kitchen counter and take a seat in one of the chairs across the coffee table from my parents in the living room.
Dad’s arm around Mom’s shoulder tightens just a bit as Mom replies for the two of them. “Hey, sweetie.”
I lean my elbows forward on my knees and try to prepare myself for what’s coming next. Before we discuss anything about the revelations I’ve had this morning, I need to address what I did last night. “I’m sorry about blowing up yesterday. What I said was completely disrespectful not just to you, but to Robert and Cindy and even to Jack’s mem
ory.”
Mom’s face softens into a smile. “It’s okay. We understand.”
I’m not sure how to take what she’s said. “You understand?”
“We’ve done a lot of talking since last night,” Mom continues but abruptly stops speaking as she looks to her side at Dad. She keeps her gaze on him, her eyes never leaving his as I can clearly see her emotions getting the best of her. Dad settles his free hand over Mom’s wrist and gently rubs it where her only tattoo still resides: the black circle forming an almost complete letter C that mirrors my dad’s own tattoo, the symbols together creating infinity. It was only natural that I wanted to have my own version of their combined tattoo inscribed on my wrist when I turned eighteen, though my parents insisted that it be more discreet in size.
When Mom turns back to me, tears fall from both of her eyes, but somehow she’s still smiling. “We’ve been hiding for so long, Dante. We almost lost everything. We almost lost you.” She stops to take a deep, calming breath before continuing. “I think somewhere along the way we forgot to stop running and start living.”
She’s not scolding me. She’s not yelling or making feel like I’m threatening the safety and stability my family has fought to keep for so long. She actually understands me.
“I promised your mother the world,” Dad interjects, his voice low but completely unwavering. “When we first arrived in Maine, I promised her a full life and so much more, but I should have made that same promise to you. We gave you an existence and a home to reside in, but we haven’t given you an opportunity to truly live.”
I’m speechless, my throat instantly clenching as feelings of relief overwhelm me that my parents actually understand. My eyes dart to the floor as I take a moment to pull myself together so I don’t unravel completely.
By the time I look back up at my parents across from me, Mom is wiping away silent tears from her cheeks. Dad’s face remains stoic, though I can see the hint of his emotions wanting to emerge from just below the surface.
“I appreciate all you’ve done for me,” I finally manage to say. “And I’m really glad you understand. I don’t want to put this family in danger–that’s not even close to my intent–but I’d like to get out more and maybe have a social life.”
“Maybe have a girlfriend?” Mom’s sudden suggestion is immediately followed by a burst of a half-laugh, half-cry as my stunned eyes shift to her. “Tell us about her. Who’s this girl who caught your eye?”
I can’t help shifting uncomfortably in my seat at even the thought of talking to my parents about Lily, but I need to reward their trust in me by trusting them right back. “Her name is Lily. She works at CJ’s Tavern just like Robert figured out, but her true passion is in writing. She studied creative writing at the University of Maine but hasn’t made a career out of it yet, which is why she’s stuck waitressing for right now.”
My parents watch me intently and hang on every word I say, clearly having no intention of interrupting, so I continue.
“She has a lot of energy and life in her. You can see it in every step she takes. It makes everything around her seem brighter. I think that’s why I’m drawn to her. I’ve only met her a few times, but each time she’s made me laugh and smile more than I can remember in years.”
“She sounds wonderful.” Mom finishes another swipe of her fingers beneath her eyes before giving me a huge smile.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Dad suddenly speaks up, “but I have to ask the question. What did you tell her about yourself? About us?”
I try to do exactly as my dad says and not be upset by his question, remembering that he’s just looking out for the best interests of our family as he has for years. “I told her I’ve lived in Maine my entire life and that I live with my parents. I told her I was homeschooled growing up and didn’t go to college. She thinks I work construction and am in between jobs right now.”
The serious look on Dad’s face fumbles just enough that I can tell he’s trying to hold back a laugh at something I’ve said.
“What?” I ask with my own unavoidable hint of laughter in my tone. “It’s mostly the truth. I’ve helped you fix up this place over the years and worked on Robert and Cindy’s house for over two months not that long ago.”
A full grin finally manages to creep into Dad’s face as he nods at me in agreement. “That’s true. Clever way to stick to being mostly truthful.” His smile suddenly fades. “What happens if you get more serious with this girl, though? You can’t be completely truthful with her. She can never know who you really are or the family you’re a part of. Can you live with that?”
It’s a devastating question my dad has asked and something that I haven’t really let myself think on yet. I’m extremely early in this process. I’ve never dated or even really socialized with the outside world before. Lily and I seem to be hitting it off well, but we’ve only really met a few times. For the most part I’ve been able to get by with half-truths about my life, but what happens if we do get closer? The questions will inevitably become more invasive into my past. She’ll expect to see where I live, something that will never be allowed to happen. Hell, she’ll want to meet my parents eventually, and it would raise all sorts of red flags if I deny her the opportunity to meet them.
I’ll just have to hope she understands. Given Lily’s reluctance to talk about her parents and her stepfather during our coffee date, it would seem she’s an ideal candidate to be understanding of my need to keep certain parts of my life hidden away.
“I think it’ll be okay,” I conclude. “I know I can’t tell her everything, and I think she’ll understand. She seems to be battling some of her own demons about her past.”
Mom looks at me curiously. “What do you mean?”
“She wouldn’t talk about her childhood other than she grew up in Connecticut and lived with her mother and stepfather until she graduated high school. They were too focused on their relationship while she was growing up, and she was never really close to them. She barely keeps in touch with them now. Her biological father died when she was three.”
A tinge of sorrow plays across Mom’s face while Dad immediately looks away from me at my comment. He knows exactly what it’s like to lose a father at a young age. Both of his parents were murdered in front of him when he was eight years old. It’s hard not to wonder how much I constantly remind him of his father given that I bear his name.
When Mom notices his discomfort, she entwines her arm with his with a supportive smile. Dad looks down at her and nods, just barely, before they both return their gazes to me.
“What’s next, then?” Mom inquires. “Do you have plans to see her again already?”
I nod. “She has a day off from work in a couple days. I offered to help with a few projects in her house.”
Mom’s eyes go wide. “You’ll be spending time in her house already? Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” She looks to her side, gauging Dad’s expression, but he doesn’t seem overly concerned. “I remember what it was like to be your age and attracted to someone. It’s easy to let your hormones make your physical relationship progress faster than it should.”
My hands immediately move to my face before I run them through my hair, wishing I could simultaneously rake what my mom just said out of my head. “I’d rather not hear about my parents’ physical relationship if that’s okay.” I peer up at them, feeling the rush of embarrassment in my heated cheeks. “I know what you’re trying to say, and I need you to trust that I won’t get carried away.”
Neither of my parents seem overly convinced, but they don’t push me on the subject any further.
“We trust you,” Mom confirms. “Just remember what you’ve learned over these years. We want you to have this opportunity to explore this new part of your life, but don’t forget to keep protecting what you already have.”
“She can never know your real last name,” Dad adds. “This house must remain hidden from her. We’ll never be able to meet her.”
“I understand. I’ll be careful,” I reassure them.
Dad nods in acknowledgement as Mom gets up from the couch and approaches me with a tearful look in her eyes. “Come here. I need to hug you.”
The moment I stand up, I’m immediately swept into my mother’s embrace. She holds me tightly as my arms encircle her back comfortingly. I can feel her attempts at deep, calming breaths.
“You’re all grown up now,” she says quietly, her voice cracking slightly. “Actually, you grew up a long time ago, but the day has finally come that we need to acknowledge it and let you start living more of your life.” She pulls back and beams at me, though her cheeks are stained with tears. “We want you to be happy.”
“Thank you,” I reply, but those two words seem too insignificant to properly express my gratitude for this extra freedom and trust they are granting me. “This means a lot to me. I won’t let you down.”
“You’re a Marini,” Dad says proudly as he stands up and wraps each of his inked arms around me and Mom to pull us against his chest. “The Marinis are fighters. Our road is never easy, but we make it through. You’re living proof of that.”
In this moment, everything becomes clear in my mind. I have to do this right. I will not stain my family’s legacy by screwing up everything we’ve worked toward for the sake of embracing a social life.
I will be careful about this, every step of the way.
But I will also enjoy it. Every fucking minute of it.
12
It was hard not going out to CJ’s Tavern the night of my coffee date with Lily when I knew exactly what hours she’d be at work. It was almost impossible to stay away from that place the next day when I was stuck at home knowing she’d be there again and probably walking to and from work by herself on that dangerous winding road.
Thank God it’s finally her day off.
Desperate for anything to keep myself busy the last day and a half, I focused on painstakingly gathering and organizing every possible tool and useful material I could think of that we had in the house and loaded it all into my car. I practically have a home improvement store ready and waiting for me in the trunk, prepared to take on whatever projects Lily has planned for me.
Beyond Resistance (The Ransom Series) Page 7
