“Thanks,” he said when Isabella handed him a coffee.
“Sorry I don’t have anything else, no snacks or cookies like Chiara would have.”
“Too bad,” he said. “Chiara’s biscotti is the tastiest.” Pink crept up Chiara’s neck.
“She can bake,” Isabella said as she sat and sipped her coffee. She tossed the magazine onto the table.
“Mm hum,” Rocco said. “Nice to nibble and slowly dunk in and out of coffee before --”
“I’m going to shower,” Chiara said. The rosy color suffused her whole face. Her footsteps echoed down the hall before the bathroom door slammed. That didn’t go exactly how he’d hoped, but she was fun to screw with, in more ways than one.
“Hostage situation over? No Stockholm syndrome?”
“What?” he said.
“When the hostage becomes attached to the criminal. Never mind. I don’t want to know. Except, well, you should know that if you hurt my sister Santo and Tomaso will have to wait behind me to kick your ass. Only I don’t believe in violence. But you’ll wish I did. Understand?” She didn’t even sound angry, but totally calm and reasonable. He almost chuckled until he looked her in the eyes. Her hazel eyes shone almost grey, cold and steely.
“I get you,” he said. “Believe me, the last thing I want to do is hurt Chiara. I guess you want to get someone else to do the bathroom?”
“Nope, a deal’s a deal. Trying to back out?”
“No. Let me check under the house and then we’ll talk.”
She nodded and he went outside.
By the time he came back in, he really needed a shower. Crawling under houses was not his favorite thing, but it would certainly be worth it if he could get Chiara to come home with him and give him a good scrubbing. After he spoke to Isabella about the details and plans, Chiara appeared, her hair still slightly damp, dressed in dark jeans and a blue tee. She curled up on the sofa and crossed her arms over her chest again. She didn’t look like she’d be going anywhere, not with him. He leaned back in the chair where he sat. Her citrus scent muddled his mind for a moment.
“What’s with the nicknames you two have?” he asked. He’d been wondering why they called each other So and La.
“Chiara’s favorite movie growing up was ‘The Sound of Music.’ I thought she might want to be a nun, but, like the Julie Andrews character, she wanted a man.” Isabella laughed but Chiara shot her a nasty sneer. “We watched that movie a lot. Our names are from the song ‘Do, Re, Mi, Fa, So, La…’ get it, So comes before La? Well, I thought it was cute when I was six, but later I kept it up to bug Chiara. You have an older brother. You should know how it is.”
“Yeah,” Rocco said. “And Chiara is fun to mess with.”
Isabella laughed. “Careful there, she’s got a nasty temper.”
Chiara compressed her lips together. “Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”
Inside her. He crossed his legs. “No.”
“I thought we were going to Target,” Chiara said, facing Isabella.
“No need to get snappy,” Isabella said. “What’s going on? I thought the mediation was helping. You seemed so relieved after you had that meeting with your lawyer last month. Phil giving you a hard time again?”
Rocco sat forward and studied Chiara, who faced her sister.
“No,” Chiara said. “Actually, he has to go out of town on Wednesday, so I’ll be staying with the boys until he gets back on Sunday.”
“Okay,” Isabella said. “When are you starting on the bathroom?” she said to him.
“Tomorrow,” he said. He’d been angling to drag it out so he could spend time in the house with Chiara, but her announcement threw a hurt on that plan.
“Will you be here to let him in?” Isabella said.
Chiara nodded and rose. “We should go. It’s getting late.”
“You two will be tired after shopping,” Rocco said. “How about I take you out for dinner later?” He had to get Chiara alone again. And Shawn would be home the day after tomorrow.
The sisters exchanged a glance. Isabella shrugged.
“No thanks,” Chiara said. It was all her, then. He ran his hand over his head.
“If you change your mind, call me,” he said. He saw himself out.
They never called. He showed up at Isabella’s on Monday morning with Hector, a hard worker who didn’t speak much English. He figured that way he could at least talk to Chiara without the details getting back to anyone. After ringing the doorbell, they waited. He’d even gone to church yesterday, hoping to catch Chiara, but she wasn’t there. He’d wondered if she was home, since she still hadn’t answered the doorbell after two rings, but he’d parked right behind her car. Just as he and Hector shrugged at each other, Chiara opened the door. Not looking at him, she walked away. Her hair hung, oily, she must not have showered, and she wore a blue bathrobe and slippers. It was only eight, but still, he hadn’t expected her to let anyone see her like that, she was always so together looking.
“Good morning,” he said. He shut the door and followed Chiara down the hall. She stopped just past the kitchen doorway.
“I meant to make some coffee,” she said without turning around. “Sorry, I guess I fell back asleep.”
“We’re fine,” he said. “We’ll get to work.” He would have watched her trudge down to her room, but Hector stood behind him, shifting his feet. He was antsy to work.
After instructing Hector to hang plastic sheeting, Rocco made some coffee and toast. He took the plate of toast and a mug of coffee down to Chiara’s room and knocked on the door.
“Did you need something,” she asked. She sounded tired. She held the door with one hand and clutched the front of her robe with the other.
“I guessed you hadn’t eaten. I made you something,” he said.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the stacked plate and mug from him. Finally, she looked him in the eyes. “I don’t deserve…sympathy. I don’t even want it, not from you.”
“Who says?”
“Lots of people,” she said. She put the plate on the empty dresser top and plopped onto the bed. “Isabella, for one. Told me to stop feeling sorry for myself, to get on with my life. Those boys have been my life for the last seven years,” she whispered. “She said that’s my own fault. I didn’t think it was a fault.”
He wanted to give her family a group smack upside the head. Sitting next to her, he tried to hug her only she pushed him away and backed up, pressing herself to the wall.
“I don’t want you in here.” Her voice, low and unsure, told him the truth.
“Let me--”
“No, get out,” she said. She closed her eyes, but it was too late. A few tears tracked down her cheeks.
He nodded and left, shutting the door behind him. As he and Hector worked, Rocco vented his frustrations on the wall that had to come down. Too bad breaking down Chiara’s walls wasn’t as simple.
She avoided him, staying in the other part of the house all morning. He and Hector went to get lunch and he assumed she must have eaten while they were out, unless she was starving herself. At the rate they worked, he and Hector would have the bathroom done in a week, barring the inspections. He had to get Chiara to see that they should be together.
Before they left, he knocked on her door.
“Yes?” she said from inside.
He tried to open the door. It was locked.
“We’re going. See you tomorrow.”
“I have a job interview,” she shouted. “I’ll leave a key under the mat.”
He didn’t bother to answer. Being nice about things sure didn’t get the results being a selfish asshole produced. Maybe he should gag his conscience for awhile. It would be in a good cause.
By Wednesday, he hadn’t seen Chiara. He snapped at Shawn every evening and then paced his room every night. He couldn’t live like this. On Wednesday afternoon, he called Isabella and told her he needed to keep her key so he could finish up on Friday. Leaving a
few small items undone, he left with a smile on his face.
Friday morning he checked on the other jobsites then had lunch at home. Driving his truck around the block, he hoped Bobbie would follow through with her end of their deal. He really had no desire to have the conversation he’d threatened to have with Santo if she didn’t help him. Fridays were early dismissal days at the neighborhood school, and Bobbie was supposed to pick up Chiara’s older boy, Danny, and take him to lunch and the Chabot Space and Science Center with her youngest daughter, who was only a year older than Danny.
Rocco had to drive around again because Bobbie’s car was still in Chiara’s driveway. He parked at his house for a bit, not wanting to show up too soon after they left. Then he realized Chiara would probably be pissed off if he just showed up, knowing Danny didn’t want to see him and not supposed to know he wasn’t there. But if he called, she probably wouldn’t even answer. Shawn pulled up, back from his shopping for school.
After they said hello, Rocco began. “I need a favor. No questions.”
“I don’t like it already,” Shawn said.
“I just need you to walk over to Chiara’s and ask if Max can help you with something.”
“What? No way. I don’t even know where she lives. I’m not acting as some decoy--”
“Then call her house for me. She’ll talk to you.”
“If she’s not talking to you, I’m sure she has a good reason. I know she’s getting divorced, but that doesn’t mean--”
Rocco’s head pounded. His own son didn’t trust him. “I love her. Help me.”
Shawn’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened, reflecting the feeling in Rocco’s gut. “Does she know?”
“No. I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself. Didn’t mean to tell you…”
“Our secret. Then you’re not running some game on her?” Rocco shook his head. “Why won’t she talk to you?”
“I’m not sure. I swear I didn’t do anything.” Seeing Bobbie kiss him might have something to do with it, but he hadn’t caused that, so he was telling the truth.
“I’ll call.”
Rocco patted Shawn’s arm and waited.
Twenty minutes later, Rocco pulled up outside Isabella’s and parked behind Chiara’s car. He walked in, but she was nowhere in sight. Shawn’s voice drifted from the new bathroom. Rocco went to the doorway, towel bar in hand.
“Guess you’re missing this,” he said. Only Max and Shawn stood in the tiny room, screwing the towel ring into the wall.
“Thanks,” Shawn said. “Max, this is my dad, Rocco.”
“I met him before,” Max said. He studied Rocco. Rocco smiled and Max did too. “Been watching the Giants?”
“Of course, what about you?”
“Not much, but Mommy let me see a game.”
“Isn’t she here?” Rocco asked.
“Said she had a phone call to make,” Shawn said.
“You guys need help?” Rocco asked.
“Nope, we got it,” Shawn said.
Rocco’s smile widened. He strode into the hall and listened. Only Max and Shawn’s voices drifted to him. He went to Chiara’s room and knocked on the door. She opened it. Her face changed from a hint of a smile to an attempt at neutrality.
“I forgot to leave the towel bar for Shawn,” he said. “How are you?”
“Fine. I better check on Max,” she said, brushing past him.
Her nearness jolted him. He grabbed her arms, kissed her, and pulled her into her room, kicking the door shut with his foot. She couldn’t make up her mind, or maybe her mind and body disagreed because one second she kissed him back and the next she tried to push him away. He wouldn’t let her. Once he kissed her enough to stop the horrible ache, he stopped and studied her. Then he wished he hadn’t. Her eyes sparked with anger and mistrust.
“This was all a ploy, wasn’t it?” she said. “Using the boys to get to me. That’s low.”
He made himself look her in the eyes, but he scratched the side of his mouth. “No, I told you, I forgot--”
“Bull,” she said.
“I missed you,” he said caressing her face.
She moved his hand with a jerk and turned her back to him. “You know what Jen would have called you and me? Fuck buddies. But that’s really in the past. I have to think of my boys.”
Rocco opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Wait, he could work with this. “Okay, so I can’t see you around your boys. Come over on Sunday night.”
“Shawn’s at your house.”
“I’ll send him to his grandparents’.”
“I’m getting my period,” she said.
“Like I care,” he said.
“Just give it up,” she said.
“No.”
“I can’t be with you anymore. You had sex with my sister-in-law.”
“Over twenty years ago.”
“Ten.” She still wouldn’t turn around, her back was rigid and she hugged her arms.
“Bobbie has nothing--”
“Don’t lie. I didn’t want to hear you lie. Your plan didn’t account for a few things, like Bobbie never takes Danny anywhere and he and his cousin hardly ever see each other. And Shawn just called out of nowhere after a month to ask Max to help finish the bathroom here? I let it all play out to see if I was right. Don’t make me tell you how I feel right now. Just go.”
Rocco licked his lips and thought. His mind raced through various arguments and reasons. A knock on the door stopped him. Chiara rushed to open the door. Shawn and Max stood there, smiling.
“Come see, Mom,” Max said.
“Sure,” she said, letting herself be led away.
Rocco blew out a breath and followed her down the hall, twisting his neck, but the kinks were there to stay. They all admired the job well done.
“We better get home, Max,” Chiara said.
“Shawn said we could come over to watch the Giants game.”
“That’s nice, but your brother will be home at five.”
“Why can’t they come for dinner? No one ever wants to watch the game with me,” Max said. Rocco almost hugged him.
“No. Besides, you’ll need to go to bed pretty soon after the game starts. Thanks, Shawn. I hope you have a safe trip to L.A. next week and have fun at UCLA. Give our best to Sabrina, okay?”
“Sure, thanks.”
“If you’ll give me the key, I’ll lock up,” Chiara said to Rocco. She wouldn’t let him see anything, not her eyes, not a smile. He dropped the key into her waiting palm.
“Bye, Max,” he said. “Take good care of your mom.”
Max nodded while Chiara frowned. He and Shawn walked out to his truck. They watched as Chiara locked the front door and helped Max into his booster seat.
“What happened?” Shawn said.
“Nothing. She knew it was a set up.”
“Did you tell her the truth?”
“No chance,” Rocco said.
“There’ll be other times.”
“Sure,” he said. But maybe what he needed was time away from Chiara. Maybe he had substituted one addiction for another. If she was his drug of choice, he knew there was only one way to quit: complete abstinence. He drove home.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Chiara,” Isabella called as she pounded on Chiara’s bedroom door. Chiara pulled the covers over her head. “I know you got my messages. We’re going to Sunday dinner at Faith’s. I know you’re in there!”
Chiara had come back to Isabella’s that afternoon once Phil returned, a much more chipper Phil. Goodie for him. Isabella had been out, so Chiara locked herself in her room with no intention of coming out.
“You know I can jimmy this door open,” Isabella said.
“I’m not going!” Chiara said, moving the covers aside. “I’m tired, you go without me.”
The tired part was true, anyway. She’d taken the boys to the zoo on Saturday. The crowds were horrendous and the boys couldn’t ever agree on what to see or d
o next. And, Danny had wandered off and she’d spent a frantic fifteen minutes with Max in her arms running all over the children’s area trying to find him. She hadn’t bothered to take them to church this morning. Instead, they’d eaten a pancake breakfast and gotten things ready for Phil’s return.
“You need to get out,” Isabella said.
“I’ve been out every day,” Chiara said.
Ready for You (A San Francisco Brides Book) Page 21
