Dominic frowned. It certainly did.
Jeremy continued, “Have you considered simply telling her what you know? I realize your father wasn’t a nice man—”
“Not nice? Not nice? He was a sick human being. Even if he was sorry in the end, the world became a better place the day he died.”
“Okay, so maybe don’t be that honest with Judy. There must be something you could tell her . . . something about your mother’s family?”
“They’ve never wanted anything to do with me. I won’t have them reject my daughter as well.”
“So you know them. Are they—?”
“Oh, I know them. At least some of them. They hated my father so much that—” He stopped and continued in his thoughts: So much that they hid my mother from him. From all of us.
After his father’s death, his mother had resurfaced. Thomas Brogos, the longtime Corisi family lawyer, had brought her to Isola Santos for one fucked-up family reunion. The story his mother had told still sounded unbelievable. Fearing that her husband, Antonio Corisi, would kill her . . . his mother had run back to Montalcino, her hometown. There she’d changed her name and hidden from the wrath of her husband. Not an easy desertion to forgive.
Especially since she’d left her two children behind—in the care of the man she feared.
When she’d first disappeared, Dominic had refused to believe she would have left them voluntarily. He’d searched for her for years. Even had gone to her hometown himself. He’d begged his cousins for any information. Was she alive? Dead? Anything.
They’d given him nothing.
Not then—not since.
After her return, his mother had suggested he visit there with her to meet his cousins, but they would never be more to him than indifferent strangers who had refused to help a desperate young man. “They’re dead to me,” he finished.
Jeremy cleared his throat. “A lot of time has passed. Things might be different now.”
“I don’t need more family.”
With a sigh, Jeremy said, “Maybe not, but your daughter seems to think you do. She’s not dropping this. My opinion, you need to get ahead of this. With or without you, she’ll get their names. DNA testing is just a mouth swab and a stamp away. Do you really want her to contact your family there before you do?”
“No, I do not.” Dominic ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Judy handled the word no as well as he did—which was not well at all. Jeremy was right. She wouldn’t stop until she found something. “I know my grandmother’s name, but that’s all. My mother had a sister, but she doesn’t talk about her. Cam . . . Camile? Carmella? I don’t remember. I never met either of them. For all I know, my grandmother is dead too.”
“Do you—do you want me to go and scope it out for you?”
“No, if I go, I’ll go myself. Thanks for the update, Jeremy. I’ll handle this from here on out.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
MAURICIO
Sunday dinners were normally full of laughter and light ribbing. It was a day we gathered, ate far too many carbs, and caught up on each other’s lives. Gian had yet to miss one even though he was living at college.
Usually it was my favorite day of the week. Adding little Ava to the mix put another layer of amusement in the group. She was a lively little girl, very opinionated, and she fit in perfectly. So it was not surprising that she was the first to mention what none of us were willing to call attention to.
“Mommy,” Ava said, “why is everyone angry?”
“No one is angry, Ava,” her mother reassured her. “It’s just been a long week. When people are tired, they don’t talk as much.”
They were both right and both wrong. My brothers and I were not fighting, but we were off. My father and I were not angry with each other. We had hit a wall, though.
Dad and I had not spoken since he’d ambushed me with Wren.
Sebastian was respectfully trying to stay neutral on the subject.
Christof had finally realized I wasn’t laughing at any of his jokes about how I’d fucked up with Wren.
And Gian—no one had updated him yet about what had gone down.
If my mother knew, she wasn’t giving a hint of it. Thankfully.
I’d called Wren since not finding her in the parking lot. I didn’t leave a message, because what I had to say was too complicated to leave in one. I was still disappointed how she’d simply left Paris, but seeing her again had proved something to me . . . I hadn’t imagined how I’d felt about her. She was worth working this through.
I’d texted: I’m sorry too.
Arguably the lamest post-accusation apology.
Not shocking that she had yet to respond to it.
The last thing I wanted to do at Sunday dinner was rehash how I’d messed up. So we ate in relative silence, keeping the conversation mostly on Gian and how his classes were going.
We had just finished the most tender lamb stew when my mother asked if we wanted dessert. Ava was the only one who perked up at the mention. The rest of us looked as ready as I felt for the meal to end.
“I’m going to head out early, Mom,” I said, rising to my feet.
Christof stood as well. “Me too. I have meetings to prepare for.”
Sebastian rose and nodded to Heather. “We should probably get Ava home early as well.”
Mom leaned over and winked at her grandchild. “Ava, you’re a smart little girl. Something is going on with my boys. What do you think I should do after they clear the table?”
In a serious tone, she said, “My teachers make us sit at a table and talk.”
Mom looked us over and said firmly, “Let’s do that now. Everyone sit down.”
We all sat.
She went over to where Ava was. “This might be an adult conversation. Do you think you and Wolfie could go play right there in the other room where we can see you? I’m sure everyone will want dessert after I talk to them. Would you like cookies or cake?”
“Cake, please,” Ava said, picking up her stuffed animal from the chair beside her. “Can Wolfie and I play with Legos?”
“Absolutely. I’ll put them out for you.”
My mother and Ava walked away from the table.
I met my father’s gaze. “Mom doesn’t know?”
Gian asked, “Doesn’t know what?”
My father made a face that could have been interpreted either way.
My mother was back before we had time for anything more. She stood there, hands on hips, and said, “Okay, who wants to start?”
Heather stood. “I should join Ava.”
“Sit,” my mother said.
Eyes wide, Heather retook her seat. My mother loved her like a daughter—well, this was the flip side to that honor.
None of us wanted to be the first to spill. Not even my normally brave father.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, she folded her arms across her chest and turned to her husband. “Who wants to go first?”
“I got involved in something I shouldn’t have.” He cleared his throat. “I apologize, Mauricio.”
My mother’s eyebrow arched. “Mauricio?”
I nodded. This needed to be addressed before we could move on. “I’m not upset with you, Dad. I’m disappointed in myself and how I behaved that day.”
In a gruff tone, Sebastian added, “I should have given you a heads-up, Mauricio. You shouldn’t have walked into that blind.”
Christof sighed. “I could have said something as well.”
Sounding a little put out, Gian asked, “Why do I have no idea what we’re talking about?”
My mother’s tone sharpened as she said, “Don’t worry, Gian, this has nothing to do with you being away for school. Your father thought I didn’t know, and although I see some of your brothers every day, they didn’t tell me anything either.”
With a smile similar to the smooth one I employed when things were tense, my father said, “Remember how Mauricio fell in love in Paris . . .”
I instantly began to correct that claim. “I wouldn’t go as far as—” Then I stopped, because there was no use denying what was painfully obvious.
“Her name is Wren Heath,” Christof said. “You’d like her, Heather. She’s an engineer. Probably too smart for Mauricio anyway.”
I almost told him to shut the fuck up, but respectfully held my tongue in front of our mother. “I’ve been in a bit of a funk since returning home. I know Dad told all of you that Wren and I were figuring things out. That wasn’t entirely true. She ended things with me. I was figuring out how to deal with that, and I understand why Dad did what he did. If I weren’t a complete ass—assuming jerk, it might have turned out differently.”
“I’m still lost,” Gian said.
Mom turned to Dad and pinned him down with a forceful stare. “That’s where you thought you would help.”
He cracked. “I tracked down Wren to a company based in Connecticut. She lives so close. How could they not be meant to be? I arranged for her to be at our headquarters when Mauricio was there. I hoped a little nudge would get them back on track.”
I fisted a hand on the table. “But I messed up royally. I was still angry with her. So when I saw her, I said stupid sh—stuff I didn’t mean. Now she’s back to not answering my calls.”
Mom’s lips pursed. She walked over and put a hand on my shoulder. “If love were easy, son, everyone would be with someone.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that. Was she confirming what I’d always thought about myself? That I wasn’t the type for a relationship? Wren had shattered that belief. I’d imagined forever with her, and that was a hard image to unsee. But was I wrong to hold on to it?
After walking back to sit beside my father, my mother asked, “Have you apologized, Mauricio?”
I sat back in my chair and groaned. “I told her to stop stalking my family and implied she was only seeking me out now because she found out I have money. I’m sure she doesn’t want to hear from me again.”
Sebastian winced and shared a look with Heather.
Christof said to Gian, “It was painful to watch. Almost funny, if he didn’t like her so much.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I screwed up what was probably my last chance with her.”
Gian looked around the table. “That’s depressing.” He cocked his head to the side. “Mauricio, what happened to you? I thought you were the guy who could walk into a room and leave with any woman you wanted?”
“I told you, this one is smart,” Christof interjected with a grin.
I raised one finger in warning toward him, met my mother’s gaze, and lowered it. “Christof is right. Wren isn’t like anyone I’ve ever known. She’s not only very intelligent, but she is also very close to her family. She’s hilarious, especially when she isn’t trying to be. And so hot—hotheaded when she cares about a topic. I imagined her here with us . . . She’s special. Presently, though, she doesn’t have the best impression of me.”
Heather chuckled and took Sebastian’s hand in hers. “That is sometimes the case with Romano men. Sebastian didn’t give up, though. And I’m glad he didn’t.” She met my gaze. “If you show Wren this side of you, she’ll forgive your first stumbles.”
Of everyone I knew, the opinions of these people mattered the most to me. “I’m not good at this romance stuff. I’m used to women chasing me.”
Christof coughed and said, “The sad thing is, he’s being sincere, Heather. I’ve never seen a woman turn him down.”
“What does that say about your choice of companionship prior to Wren, Mauricio?” Mom asked in light reprimand.
It wasn’t a question I hadn’t asked myself, so I had a quick answer. “That I wasn’t ready for anything serious before now.”
She smiled.
My father nodded in approval.
“My impression of her family is that they are hardworking, good people who raised their daughter to be smart enough to want more than you’ve offered her so far.”
My jaw dropped. “Mom, how do you have any impression at all of her family?”
“I met her mother for lunch. Very nice woman.”
“You did what?” Was I going insane, or was the rest of the world? “When? How?”
My mother poured herself a cup of coffee. “How? Your father thinks I can’t hear him when he’s in the other room, but since his hearing started to go, I can’t not know what he’s saying on the phone. I felt horrible that I didn’t step in from the beginning, but . . .” She placed her hand over my father’s. “It was so romantic it reminded me of when we were dating. I wanted your plan to work.”
My father leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Me too. Thank you for having faith in me.”
“Always,” she assured him.
I broke in. “Can we get back to you having lunch with Wren’s mother? What did you tell her? What did she tell you? Is Wren okay?”
My mother sighed. “Wren is going through a tough time, Mauricio. Her mother and I had a long talk, and Wren had a good reason to leave Paris the way she did.”
“Is it . . .” I hated to even ask. “Is it someone else?”
“No, but I think it’s best if she tells you the rest herself. What I can say is that she has a lot going on in her life right now. She could use a good friend . . . and more if that’s where you’re meant to go together. But Mauricio, before you contact her again, are you sure? I don’t want to see her hurt.”
I took a moment to let it all wash over me. Whatever Wren was facing, I wanted to be there for her. I would be there for her.
Some would be angry with their parents for getting involved at all, but I couldn’t be. I wasn’t upset with any of my family. If things worked out, they would welcome Wren to the family and love her as if she’d been born one of us. If Wren never spoke to me again, they would still all be there . . . supporting me, pushing me, and sometimes driving me crazy until I was over her.
I didn’t want to be over her.
I wanted her there, at my parents’ table, laughing with me each time my mother brought us all to heel. I could picture her doing the same with the children we’d have.
I tried to imagine how the meeting had gone between our mothers and couldn’t. “Wren said her mother can change a flat tire. Wren is strong and independent. Is that how her mother came across?”
My mother nodded. “And down to earth. She’s faced some tough times, too, but is now where she wants to be.” She looked across the table at me. “She wants her daughter to find a nice man to settle down with. Someone who will help her reach her dreams instead of holding her back. I told her you could be that man.”
Not could be. “I am that man.”
Behind his hand, Gian said, “So it seems like the only hurdle is that she won’t answer your calls, Mauricio. Might be time to go old school and do this in person.”
“Old school,” I repeated with amusement. How had face-to-face become novel and retro? He was right, though. It was time to change my approach. “That sounds like a plan.”
“Just don’t buy her father a cow,” my mother joked.
My dad leaned forward and said, “The cow worked. Don’t underestimate the power of the cow.”
“He’s speaking figuratively, right?” Christof asked.
“No,” my mother said with a laugh. “He literally bought a cow for my father when we were dating.”
My father wiggled his eyebrows at me. “And I was always her father’s favorite.”
“Who wants dessert?” my mother asked.
We all said we did. My father and I offered to retrieve it from the kitchen. Once we were alone my father said, “I am sorry, son. I wanted to make things better.”
“You did, Dad. I’m taking your advice this time. I’ve been impatient and more concerned with how I felt than why she left the way she did. I’m going to take it slower this time.” I gave him a quick hug. “And if her father needs a ‘cow,’ I’ll figure out how to get one for him.”
A huge smile spread across my father’s face; then he said, “It doesn’t actually have to be a cow. You get that, right?”
I picked up a stack of plates and handed him the cake. “Yeah, Dad. Don’t worry. I got this.”
To lighten the mood, when I placed the plates on the table, I said, “Now for the important question. Mom, did Wren’s mother say if she can cook?”
Laughter accompanied a few groans. Ava walked back into the room. “Cake!”
I swung her up into my arms and spun with her. “Finally, someone who shares my priorities.”
Giggling, she hugged me back. Then very seriously she said, “I don’t want to share my cake.”
Laughter erupted again, and just like that we were back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
WREN
Monday afternoon, I was on my couch with my laptop, hunting through online job listings. When I’d quit my job, I’d offered my boss two weeks’ notice, and he’d offered me a more immediate termination. So I’d gotten what I’d wanted—instant unemployment.
Whee.
So far breaking free was terrifying.
Like stepping off into an abyss and free-falling into the unknown.
I shrugged, trying to release the tension. Change was supposed to be scary, wasn’t it? This was me taking charge of my life and reshaping it.
Part of me wanted to claim temporary insanity and beg for my old job back.
I refused to give in to that weakness.
So far I’d updated my résumé and had at least familiarized myself with what a wide variety of companies were looking for. All I had to decide was what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.
That’s all.
Easy.
The ringing of my phone was a welcome reprieve. “Hello?”
It was Cecile. “I have a hypothetical question for you.”
“Ooookay.”
“Let’s say Mauricio Romano contacted me and asked me where he could find you. Would you want me to tell him where you are?”
I nearly dropped my laptop. “He called you?”
“I have him on hold. What do you want me to say?”
The Wild One Page 17
