by Clara Moore
“What happened?”
“He was scared too, but we loved each other and stuck through it.”
“What about your parents?”
She shrugged, “Sometimes your parents don’t make the right choices. I think one day they’ll let it go.”
“Are you sad?”
She shook her head, “I have you, Izzy. I could never be sad.”
Isadora took a deep breath, wishing she had her mother to talk to. Even then, she wished Doran were there. He had a calming presence about him. He made her feel safe when she was with him. She walked slowly to her room and reclined on her bed. She wanted to close her eyes and forget about everything. She wouldn’t remember her mother or Doran or the baby – everything would just be fixed and fine.
She wondered why life never went the way she wanted it to. She rethought the decisions she’d made – had she brought it all upon herself? She never really wanted to connect with anyone (besides Adam) after her mother died. She couldn’t forgive her father for climbing out of the hole of misery and still resented him.
What would he say? Would he want her to get rid of the child? Could she get rid of it? The more she thought about it, the more she didn’t want to. But then again, she also wanted Doran there with her. Though he hadn’t been the most upstanding teenager, he seemed to love his family. He always talked fondly of his father and took good care of his mother.
She didn’t know what to do. She felt stunned, unable to make a good decision. And her heart longed for the man she’d single-handedly sent away with her own stoic disregard. What could she do?
In the next few days, Fiona and Isadora stuck close to each other. Isadora missed Doran, thinking and talking of him often. Fiona tried to convince her that he wasn’t a great man, and she shouldn’t miss him, but Isadora couldn’t stop. “I’ve been looking into the Roselli incident,” Fiona said. They were finishing up the long morning sickness filled week. “I’m wondering if Doran had anything to do with it after all.”
“Remember he had that blood stain on his shirt?” Isadora said. “He must’ve been involved.”
“That might have really just been sauce. Some people I interviewed said they liked to do that. And you said there were two guys there with you, right?”
“They were at the bar.”
She showed her a picture of the two middle-aged men who’d been at the restaurant that day. “Is this them?”
“Yeah, that’s them. Why?”
“They’re hitmen. They get orders straight from Sicily.”
“Who told you that?”
“I can’t reveal my sources,” said Fiona, tucking the photo away.
Isadora’s phone started ringing in her pocket. It startled them both, but they played it off. She pulled it out, expecting Georgia, but a different name blazed across the screen. “Oh no.”
“What? Is it Georgia?”
“No. It’s Doran.”
Fiona swatted the phone to the ground. “Don’t answer it!”
They just stood there, staring at the phone as it rang on the floor.“I’ll call him later,” Isadora said.
“You’re going to have to tell him sometime,” Fiona pointed out.
Isadora gave her a look that could only be interpreted as NO I DON’T.
“Are you going to call him back?” Fiona asked, as the left the building later that day..
“To be honest, I can’t even imagine talking to Doran right now,” Isadora answered stepping outside..
“I’m glad you talk about me when I’m not around,” Doran’s voice startled them both. They looked up to see him leaning against the building.
“Doran! You’re back!” Isadora threw up her arms in an awkward wave of celebration. “It’s... uh… nice to… see you.”
“Your excitement is infectious,” he said dully. “I called you, but you didn’t answer, so I decided to just come by.”
“I was pretty busy today.”
“I can smell your trash can from over here. What is in there?” He leaned in to get a better view. “Is that vomit? Did your janitor quit or something? ”?”
She looked down. “Oh yeah, I was going to throw it in the dumpster. I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Well, I’m going to get going,” Fiona said. “I’ll see you Monday Izzy.”
Doran raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Isadora just frowned.Before she could stop him, Doran took the trash can and walked toward the dumpster next to the building. Isador felt like her feet were rooted to the sidewalk.
“That’s pretty gross,” he said returning. “Did you get food poisoning or something?”
“Not exactly,” she said, turning to walk down the block. “We need to talk.”
“Look, I know you want to act like nothing happened,” he said, grabbing her arm to stop her. “I thought I couldn’t do that, and I freaked out a little bit, but I’m okay now. If you want to pretend we never slept together, I’m fine with that.”
“Oh.” She searched his eyes, seeing a sparkle of sadness and regret in them. “How was your dad?”
“Usual.”
“Your mom said he’s a businessman?” Isadora said, turning again to walk down the block. Doran fell in step with her.
“Not exactly. He’s more like a common thug.”
Her blood froze. “Doran, are you involved with the maf…”
Before she could continue, a noise like the backfiring of a car exploded at them. BANG, BANG. Doran pounced on her, pushing her to the ground and covering her with his body. Pieces of brick from the building’s facade rained down as someone screamed.
“What was…” she started.
“Shh. At my mark, run for the alley at the side of the building. Understand?”
Isadora nodded her agreement, locking eyes with Doran for an intense second.
“One… two… GO!”
She sprang up and ran toward the alley.
BANG! BANG!
Doran rounded the corner, grabbing her hand and practically pulling her through the alley. They hid in an alcove, panting, trying to catch their breath.
“Were those gunshots?” she whispered, staring up at him..
“Yes. Don’t talk,” he said before kissing her.
”Doran,” She said pulling out of his grasp. “What the hell is going on?”
Pulling a gun from his waistband, he turned around to check the alley.Footsteps and more gunshots rang out. She could hear sirens in the distance getting closer. She closed her eyes and wished to be anywhere but there.
“Are you okay?” he asked very softly. “You’re shaking.”
“Not exactly,” she whispered back.
“It’s okay. I’m here with you,” he whispered tenderly. “Nothing will happen to you.”
Her limbs trembled as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.
“Izzy, look at me.” She opened her eyes to look into his. “You can do this. You’re one of the strongest people I know. We have to get home, all right? Can you do that?”
She nodded. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“I guess you should’ve kept the trash can around.”
Turning to the side, she could feel the bile rising up in her throat. Doran stood in front of her, shielding her with his body. Slowly they made their way back to his car, which was parked down the block from Izzy’s office. Doran opened the back door and gestured for Izzy to get in, all the while looking around him.
Sliding into the front seat he told her, “Get down and stay down. There’s a blanket back there that you might want to use to hide under.”
Great she thought. Just one more thing to hide.
“This is a mess,” she said to herself softly as she wiped her eyes when the car came to a stop a few minutes later. “What did I get myself into?”
Suddenly, the car door opened and the blanket was ripped from her face. Isadora screamed as her life flashed before her eyes.
VI.
“Don’t scream,” Doran hissed, standing ab
ove her with the serious look from his yearbook picture. “Let’s get inside. It’s safer there.”
“You scared the shit out of me Doran!” she yelled unfolding herself from the car.”I thought you were a killer.”
“You’re not wrong,” he smiled. “They say I’m a killer in the sack.”
“I don’t know who says that.”
“Come on, we need to get inside.”
She took the blanket with her as if she could hide behind it. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. They turned a corner, the house a bit up the block.
“Why’d you park so far away?” she asked.
“So they didn’t know we’re there. If the car’s parked out front, they’ll know.”
“Don’t you think they’ll see us walking up?”
“Well, you are being very inconspicuous with that blanket wrapped around you.”
“I’m asking a legitimate question, jerk.”
“We’ll go through the back. I don’t think they’re after us anyway.”
“Who were they shooting at then?”
“Let’s get inside first. Follow me.”
“Where’s my dad?” Isadora asked, once they were inside the house. .
“Mom and Mario left town until all of this blows over.”
“They just left town?! Why didn’t they take me?”
“Your dad thinks you’ll be okay, I guess.”
She stared at him. “YOu have got to be kidding me! What the hell is going on?”
“They weren’t shooting at us.”
“Then who were they shooting at?”
“Vinnie Gorello and his goons. They were at the restaurant across the street.”
“Vinnie who?” she said flopping down on a chair. “You know what? I take it back to don’t care.”
Ignoring her, Doran took the chair opposite and said“He’sa business associate of the Rosellis.”
“The Rosellis? As in the mafia then?”
“I think we should go upstairs. I don’t want them to see us in the windows.”
“You are avoiding the question.”
“I am not avoiding the question, Isadora. I just want to get upstairs where it’s safer, and I’ll answer any question you have.” She stood her ground, keeping her mouth paper thin and her eyes narrowed. “I know you have your mean face on, but it’s really hard to take you seriously with that blanket wrapped around you.”
“It’s my armor.”
“Yeah, okay.”
She sighed and gestured for him to go ahead of her. He smirked, leading her upstairs to the master bedroom and the huge walk-in closet. He went to one of the walls and felt along the corner, his fingers exploring the surface.
“What are you doing?” she asked crossly.
“Shh,” he responded.
He found a little nick in the dry wall and pressed against it. The wall slid open, revealing another room. She looked at him, astonished.
“I’m good with my hands, as you know,” he grinned with a cocky shrug.
She rolled her eyes and moved into the room. “How did you know about this?”
“I saw your dad in here once. I was hoping to take some money from their secret stash.”
“Naturally.”
The room was small, but cozy enough – a small loveseat sat against the opposite wall along with boxes and some clothes hung up. It looked like an extension of the closet with storage built into the walls filled with boxes and cans of food. It reminded her of some kind of bomb shelter – a perfect hiding place from destruction.
She ran her hands over the dresses hung up. “These are my mom’s. I always wondered what happened to her wedding dress.”
“I guess he didn’t want to get rid of them, but didn’t want to tell my mom about it,” Doran shrugged.
She smelled the dresses, “They still smell like her.”
He watched her for a moment as she hugged the white lace dress, taking in its scent. He sighed, pulling a cord hanging from the ceiling to turn on a small light bulb and closed the wall. She didn’t notice, wrapped up in the memory of her mother’s perfume. She turned to the boxes, finding other mementos.
“It’s the photo album my mom made before she died,” Isadora said softly, pulling out the artifact and sitting on the couch. “I thought he got rid of this.”
Doran walked forward and sat down next to her as she opened the album. “Is that your mom?”
She touched a photo of her and Gaea together. “Yeah. This was my kindergarten graduation. She wore her favorite floral dress.”
“You look a lot like her.”
“I know.” She smiled, turning each page carefully and cherishing every shot. “Sometimes, I know my dad sees her when he looks at me, and he gets sad.”
“I think he really loved her.”
“Yeah. Anyway,” she paused, looking up at him. “What’s really going on, Doran?”
He sighed, “It’s kind of complicated. Do you know a lot about your mother’s family?” She shook her head. “Well, there are two powerful Italian families in the city: the Rosellis and the Libericcis. Your mother was a Libericci, and your father was a Roselli.”
“Your mom told me about my dad. I didn’t know that about my mom – she told me they stopped talking to her when she got pregnant with me.”
“I think they just wanted to protect her. Your dad wasn’t the oldest son, so they kind of made an arrangement with the Rosellis that they both stay out of it so your parents could live.”
“And you fit into this how?”
“Well, as you may know, I’m not related to you.”
That’s good news for the baby. “Get to the point..”
“My mom met my dad when visiting Ireland with her family. She thought he was a great guy – seemed successful, charismatic, strong family. She married him, had me, and then realized he was involved with some not-so-legal business.”
“So, he’s in the Irish mob?”
“Kind of. He’s one of the younger brothers himself of a powerful family. But he’s such a fuckup that he doesn’t mean anything.”
“Okay. And you?”
“My mom married a Roselli unknowingly. Her sisters introduced her because they knew. Your dad didn’t know her past relationship. You’re kind of like this mob princess, so I guess they hoped we’d get together.”
“So, you slept with me to answer that call?”
“No, no. I didn’t know about it all either. I came back from Ireland when Dad tried to pawn me off on one of his sisters and lived with Mom. I thought Dad was dangerous and cool, so I chose him in the divorce. Then I grew up and wanted something else.”
“The military?”
He looked into her eyes, something sweet in them, “Not exactly. I have to be honest, you were so beautiful and I was so in…” he sighed, tearing his eyes away from her. “I wanted to prove myself as more than just the punk kid.”
She felt guilt rising from her stomach. At second thought, she realized it might be more vomit, but she took deep breaths to keep it at bay. “I was a teenager then. You didn’t have to prove yourself to me. Plus, you went into the Navy SEALs. Doesn’t that mean you killed a bunch of people?”
He nodded, “I killed more than a few.”
“Did you… do work for your family too?”
He raised an eyebrow, “Did I do work for the Irish mob? Why would you think that?”
“It’s kind of strange Roselli’s blew up the morning after we were there, Doran.”
He laughed derisively, “That’s different.”
“How?”
He leaned in, looking her straight in the eye with harshness this time, “Anything I did for the mafia was to protect you, don’t you understand? I might have done some untoward things while with the SEALs, but it was only to protect you.”
“What does that even mean?”
“The Rosellis did something that made the another mob family in Sicily very angry,” he held her shoulders, his eyes intensely locking her in
to place. “I tried to do damage control, but… it was no use.”
“So, you killed them?”
“No. I tried to warn them, but the hitmen were already there.”
A loud noise came from downstairs. A meow came from the other side of the wall.
“Tess! We need to let Tess in!” Isadora ran to the wall, trying to figure out how to open it.
“We aren’t risking our safety for your cat,” he answered.
The cat meowed again. Isadora rushed to him. “That cat is like my kid. Let her in.”
“You didn’t think to let her in here, so I doubt she’s like your kid.”
“I will disembowel you.”
“That sounds kinky.”
“Doran!”
He sighed and went to the wall, opening it slowly. The cat rushed in and jumped into Isadora’s arms. He closed the wall and listened as more noises came from downstairs. This time, the bangs and crashes came closer.
“Thank you,” she said softly, hugging the cat.
“Anything,” he answered.
He took off his shoes and moved forward. They stood face to face, the cat only between them. He pet the animal in her arms before they both looked up in unison. Another crash came closer to them; he pulled the cord just above him to turn off the light. His eyes didn’t leave hers, even in the darkness. She felt completely alone with him, even with Tess in her arms and some kind of intruder invading the house.
He put his hand on her face and leaned forward, his lips dangerously close. She closed her eyes, tingles radiating through her body as he came closer. With a foreign person pressing against her, Tess jumped out of Isadora’s arms, scratching her in the process. She almost cried out, but bit her lip. He chuckled softly.
CRASH! The door of the closet outside their hiding place slammed open and someone bombarded in. Doran moved carefully toward the wall, pulling his gun from his waistband. She grabbed a metal bat leaning against the couch. They prepared for an infiltration, both deathly quiet.
“Meow,” the cat apologized, rubbing against Isadora’s legs.
Isadora dropped to the ground, trying to hold the cat’s mouth.
“I will shoot that cat,” Doran whispered.
“I will beat your head in,” she replied.
