by Hargrove, A.
I wanted to say, Piper West, but I clamped my mouth shut. Instead, I began prepping our dinner for tonight. I pounded the chicken to the thinnest possible, and I made a lovely salad. Then I prepped the pasta--homemade of course. Once everything was done and in the refrigerator, I went upstairs to check on my son.
I found him finishing up his drawing for Piper. It was of a Christmas scene.
“I see you made a Christmas tree.”
“Papa, this is me, you, and Ms. West at Christmas. Do you like it?”
“Yes, it's perfect.” In actuality, I would rather have groaned.
“How much longer until she gets here?”
“It should be any time now.”
He grabbed the picture and ran down the steps.
“Be careful you don't fall,” I called out after him.
He set the picture on the large coffee table and hopped around the room in anticipation. He was so eager, he couldn't sit still. Finally the bell rang, announcing her arrival.
Gabriele beat me to the door, but when we opened it, we both gawked at her. Standing there was Piper, but she looked terrible.
“Ms. West, what's wrong with your face?”
“Gabriele, that's not polite.”
“It's fine. It would be hard not to notice.” She circled a finger around and said, “This was why I had to cancel last week.”
“Please come in.” I ushered her through the door and into the living room, where we all sat.
“I had an altercation with an intruder.”
“What's an altercation?” Gabriele asked.
Piper took his little hand in hers. “Gabriele, do you remember when I talked about someone breaking into my apartment?”
“Yes, and you said it was okay. Didn't she, Papa?”
“Yes, but let her talk, little one.”
“It turned out to be a friend of mine. He came over for dinner last week and it was a setup with the police.” She briefly explained what happened, and I was sure there was more to the story. I had the feeling she omitted the key parts because of the little ears in the room. Gabriele asked all kinds of questions, and while I listened intently, the more she spoke, the more I knew she was hiding things.
“Did the police save you again?” Gabriele asked.
“They sure did.”
“But not before the bad man hurt you.”
“That’s true. But he’s in jail now.”
“Are you scared over there, Ms. West?”
When she didn’t immediately respond, Gabriele said, “See, Papa, Ms. West should stay with us. She's scared over there.”
She rubbed his head. “I'm fine now because he's locked up in jail.” Her eyes clouded over so I knew there was more, but I didn't ask. I'd wait until we were alone, away from young ears.
Then Gabriele handed her the drawing he'd made. “Here. It's a present.”
“Thank you, it's beautiful.”
“Are you crying, because it's supposed to make you happy, Ms. West.”
She dabbed her eyes and I felt terrible for all those awful things I'd said to her.
“No, I'm not crying. I have something in my eyes.”
“Papa, get it out for her.”
“Piccolino, why don't you go outside and practice your football? We’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay, but don't take too long.”
He skipped toward the kitchen and when I heard the door close, I took her hand. “Are you all right? What really happened?”
“You're not going to bite my head off, are you, because today's not a good day for that.”
“No, no head biting, I promise.”
“I'm not all right. This has been a terrible week.” Then she explained in minute detail what had taken place that night.
I wanted to rip the guy's head off. He punched her and broke her nose! Fury razored through me, shredding my guts in the process. I was literally on fire. What kind of a man did that? A criminal, not a man.
“It sounds like it. Why didn't you call?”
She laughed, but not a funny laugh. “You don't exactly make things very easy on me, so you weren't first on my list.”
“About that. Can we call a truce?” She checked me out and I noticed the stress lines around her eyes. They were shaded by purple bruising, but they were there, nonetheless. “I want to help, Piper. Honestly, I do.”
“The police confiscated my phone for evidence and I didn't get a new one until after my surgery. My family doesn't even know about this.” She softly wept. I knew she was very close to them by some of the things she'd said on the flight over here.
“Why haven't you called them?”
“I don't want them to worry.”
“Someone needs to worry. What happened to you is serious.”
“That's not the worst. If the women he raped don't identify him...”
“Stop right there. He's raped women?”
“Yes. That's why they’re so desperate to catch him. Only things got out of hand. Like I said, he knew they were there. He texted me. The police didn't know about his threat to slice my throat because it was in a text and he didn't verbalize it.”
“Fuck, Piper. And you've been alone all week?”
“No, I had Emma with me for a few days. She's with the police department. But I am now and I'll be honest, if they let him go, I don't know what I'll do. Probably go home.”
“It's November. You don't have that much longer.”
“I know, but he'll come back, Alessandro. He will and the next time will be the end of one of us. I have a feeling it won't be him.”
Instincts took over and I pulled her into my arms. It was a reflex action, I told myself. I felt sorry for her, was all. But when she wrapped her arms around my waist, it felt better than anything had felt in a very long time.
“If he gets out, you'll move in here. My father leaves tomorrow. No one will have to know. You can set up a dummy address with your friend Emma.”
She leaned back and studied me. “You can't be serious. What about the university policy?”
“If they find out, which I doubt they will, I'll go forward with your police report and tell the truth. If I risk my job, then so be it. I've already applied in the states, which was my plan anyway.”
The lines between her eyes deepened. “Wait. You've applied in the states?”
“That's right. In New York.”
“Are you stalking me?” she asked, apprehension lacing her tone.
“Maybe. I think it's more Gabriele who is stalking you.”
“In that case. But really, you'd move to the states?”
“That was in the works before this position became available. And as you know, this one is only temporary. That's why I was in Denver.”
“What about your family?”
“They want me to be happy, along with my son. Gabriele needs to be far away from our home. There's a long story that accompanies it. I may tell you one day, but not now.”
She slowly nodded, but I still wanted to wipe the shadows off her cheeks and have her eyes glisten with joy and not sadness. I cupped her face and smiled. That’s when I heard a voice happily yell, “Is she going to be my mama?”
Well, fuck us both.
Chapter Sixteen
Piper
It was bad when a small child caught you cozying up to his dad and your entire face turned beet red. Not only that, Alessandro dropped his arms like I was a hot potato.
“Gabriele, we've already discussed this. No, Ms. West cannot be your mama. We have to get to know one another before that could happen.”
“But, Papa, you were going to kiss her. I know it. And the only people you kiss are ones you love. That's what Nonna always told me.”
“How do you know I was going to kiss her?” Alessandro asked.
“I’m real smart like that. Besides, she’s pretty and needs a kiss.”
Shit. Now what? Alessandro looked to me for help, but I didn't know a thing to add. Maybe this would help.
“No. But some of the older boys do. I see them sometimes.”
“Well, older people like to kiss and that's what they do sometimes, but only if they really like someone.”
His eyes grew huge as he asked, “Then you really really like my Papa? Do you love him? Because two people have to love each other, right. I love you, Ms. West.”
“Come here, please.”
He ran over to us and I squeezed him hard. “Yes, I love you, you little squirt. You are the most adorable little boy I know. But right now, your Papa and I like each other. We are not in love and that's what it takes for two people to get married. Does that make sense?”
“I think so. But if you love me, you can be my mama.”
I was digging myself deeper and deeper into a hole.
It was Alessandro's turn. “Listen, picollino. In order for Ms. West to be your mama, we have to get married first. So that means we have to love each other too. It's a process. Do you at least understand that?”
He put a finger to his mouth and stared at us. “Maybe. You have to love her and she has to love you back. Then she can be my mama.”
Alessandro clapped his hands. “Yes!”
“How long will that take, because I'm ready now?”
I couldn't help myself. I burst out laughing and pulled the precocious boy onto my lap. “For someone so young, you sure ask some thought-provoking questions.”
“What's that?”
“It means you've stumped the grown-ups.”
I received a toothy grin for that. God, he was cute.
“I have an idea,” Alessandro said. “Why don't we go to the movies and eat dinner after?”
“But I thought you cooked.”
“Not yet and it will only take thirty minutes to cook when we get back.”
He checked the movie times and there was one starting in a half hour. We gathered everyone together, including Antonio, and left. I couldn't decide which was better—watching the movie or listening to Gabriele giggle. His laugh was the absolute best.
We arrived home and Alessandro went to work in the kitchen. I observed him and his masterful cooking skills. He'd prepared the majority of it ahead of time, so all he had to do was cook the homemade pasta and chicken, which didn’t take very long. He served the pasta in a butter wine sauce and dinner was ready in less than thirty minutes. It was restaurant worthy.
“This is better than any scaloppine I've had in a restaurant. It's so delicious. Thank you for making this and inviting me over.”
Gabriele grinned around his mouthful of food and Alessandro reprimanded him. “I'm sorry, Papa.” He swallowed his bite and said, “Ms. West, if you were my mama, you could eat this food all the time because Papa is a very good cook.”
I hid my smile beneath my napkin.
“You're not very subtle are you, my son?” Alessandro asked.
“I don't know what that is.”
“It means, you get straight to the point.”
“Yes. I love Ms. West and you should too, Papa.”
“Good of you to tell me. Now eat your dinner, like a good boy.” He smiled again, this time without any food.
“Ms. West, you should come to our house at Christmas.”
“Here?” I asked.
“No, our big house at home. In the country.”
I was confused.
Antonio filled me in. “He means in Italy.”
“Ahh. I'm sorry, squirt, but I'm planning on going home to New York to see my family.”
The poor thing looked crushed. Then he perked up and said, “Why can't they come to the country too?”
“Oh, well...”
“The house is bigger than this one.”
“But...”
“And Papa, Nonno, Nonna and my other ones are all there and they all cook lots of food and cookies and pies.”
“Cakes, picollino,” Antonio helped him out.
“Yes, that.”
“But my sister has two new baby boys so she may not be able to come.”
“Why can't the baby boys come too?” Gabriele asked.
“My other sister is in school and there's my dad.”
“They can come too.”
Alessandro ruffled his son's hair. “Gabriele, maybe you should let her think about it and you should ask your nonni first. They are the ones who do all the work.”
“It's fine with me,” Antonio said. “You know all of your grandparents would love it,” he said to Alessandro.
I looked at the man in question and asked, “But would Alessandro?”
He answered, “I'm pretty sure he wouldn't mind.”
I leaned back in my chair. His answer surprised me. I figured he’d say he'd have to give it some thought. After the way he'd treated me, I thought the man intensely disliked me.
“I'll talk to my family. Can you tell me where it's located so I can give them a little information?”
Antonio smiled warmly. “Yes. It's in Tuscany. Do you know Siena? It's not very far from there.”
“Of course I've heard of Tuscany, but not Siena,” I said.
“She doesn't know about the horses, Papa. We must take her sometime.”
Alessandro laughed. “Yes, we must.” He said to me, “Siena has two horse races every year that date back to the 1600s.”
“That's amazing.”
“They're in July and August. We'll have to go.”
Gabriele yelled and said, “Yes. They are fun to watch, Ms. West.”
“If you live in the Tuscan countryside, I'm sure it's beautiful and I can convince my family to come.”
“Do they enjoy wine?”
“Oh, just mention wine and my brother-in-law gets giddy. He fancies himself a connoisseur. He has quite a cellar.”
Antonio stood and said, “Then it is settled. If they say yes, you are spending Christmas with us. Call them now.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now.” He snapped his fingers and Gabriele did the same.
“Papa, it's” —Alessandro checked his watch— “in the middle of the night in New York.”
“I forgot. Forgive me. You can call tomorrow, yes?”
Laughing, I said I would. “But you’re sure? Two crying babies can be a bit much.”
“Piper, the house is large. We won't know they’re there,” Antonio said.
“As long as you're sure.” Then I wondered what kind of a house they had if it was so large they wouldn't hear two screaming babies at night.
Later, when Alessandro took me home, I thanked him and asked again about the Christmas thing. “Are you positive? I don't want this to be a week or whatever of you being uncomfortable with me and my family hanging around, disturbing your vacation.”
“You won't be. You'll have your space. Don't worry about us being on top of each other, I promise.”
“Okay. I'll ask them tomorrow. And for how long?”
“At least two weeks if they can. We have a month off. Maybe you can go back to the states with them after and spend some more time with them. But you need at least two weeks to enjoy it.”
“I'll let them know.”
“Or, if you want to stay the entire time with us, Piper, that's fine too. It's up to you.”
“What airport should I tell them to fly into? My brother-in-law has his own jet so he can get pretty close.”
“Florence. We'll send a car for them.”
It made me wonder even more if they had a lot of money. He didn't bat an eye when I mentioned my brother-in-law's private jet.
Our gazes locked and my heart rate sped up. This time it wasn't because he was an ass. It was because I wanted him to kiss me. He did. But it was a kiss on the cheek like my dad would give me. Was he on the same page as me? Maybe he was taking things slowly and I supposed that was good. Or maybe he wasn’t even interested. The wicked side of me wanted more. But then I thought of my purple banana nose. No wonder he didn't want me.
I had to get rid of these god-awful black eyes first. As soon as I could turn my computer on, I would research some home remedies.
That night I slept with oatmeal and witch hazel on my face. In the morning when I got up, I looked like a herd of lions had camped out and clawed me all night. Apparently I was allergic to one or both. It hadn't helped the bruising at all. It had made it a hundred times worse.
Chapter Seventeen
Piper
The phone rang and it wasn't Sylvie who answered, but Evan.
“Pipe, babe, what's happening?”
“Can you keep a secret and I mean really keep a secret, Evan?”
“You're not pregnant, are you?”
“No!”
“Okay, I've got your back.”
This was it. I exhaled. “I got attacked by that Sam dude who I called Sylvie about. You know, the one I jokingly called Ted Bundy.”
“What the fuck! Did you call the police?”
“Of course. They were in on it.”
“On the attack?”
“No, Evan. It was an operation to catch him. They were in my apartment.” I explained the whole story. “I didn't lose my phone like I told everyone. The police have it. That's why I had to get a new one.”
“For fuck's sake! Are you okay?”
“I have a broken nose. I had to have surgery on it. Sort of look like big sis when she had hers.”
“Christ. Do you want one of us to come?”
“Nah, I'm good now, but if you mention one word to anyone about this, I'll rip your balls off.”
“Jesus, calm down.”
“I'll tell them about it when I see them, but not over the phone. Okay?”
“I understand. But you're sure you're okay?”
“Yeah, but that's not why I'm calling. Do you all want to go to Italy for Christmas and stay with my friends at their house?”
“Jeez, Pipe, talk about a segue. That sounds nice, but I’m not camping out on someone's floor with two bawling kids and a breastfeeding wife. I've passed that stage in life.”
I laughed at his image. “No, silly. He has a huge house. He said you'd have a separate place to stay and that no one would be on top of each other. They live in Tuscany, close to Siena, and I think they have something to do with wine. His father wants to meet you because I told them you're a connoisseur.”
