by Lynn Stevens
She stood and raised a finger. “Come back tomorrow, same time. Let us remember together over espresso. You can tell me about America. I will tell you about your mother.”
It took me a while to get back to the hotel. I went to the bookstore and bought a journal. I’d never been into writing before, but I felt like following in Mom’s footsteps. I wanted to reconnect with her in some way, even if it wasn’t possible.
The streets while familiar were confusing. I hadn’t paid attention to the way I’d came. Plus, if I was totally honest with myself, I didn’t really want to go back. I wandered down an alley toward the water.
“Rachel?” a small voice shouted behind me.
I turned around to see the two boys who were suddenly my siblings. Technically, it wasn’t really suddenly, but it was for me. They may have known about their American sister their entire lives. I’d only learned of them a few hours ago.
The oldest one rattled off something in Italian. I caught my name and family, but not much else. He frowned, motioning toward the direction I was already walking.
“Tu sei mia sorella,” the youngest boy said slowly.
I nodded, recognizing the words more from him with his slower cadence. “Sí.”
He grinned and skipped away in front of us.
“Sono Gino,” the older boy said. “Parli italiano?”
I shook my head, but then I wondered, could I still speak Italian? Would it come back like Nonno said? I hoped so. “I used to.”
Gino nodded. “Mama ... told me about you,” he said in halting English. “She learned me to talk English.”
“Your English is good,” I said, earning a proud smile. “I haven’t talked to Mama in a long time.”
“Sì, lo so.” He held his hands behind his back as he strolled. It reminded me of Nonno.
“Lo so. That means I know, right?” I asked.
“Sì.” Gino grinned. “You remember some?”
“Può essere,” I said with a smile because maybe I did.
Gino and I followed Alfonso back to the hotel. He spoke slower so I could hear each word. Most of the language still eluded me, but I began to remember a few phrases and words. It was nice. I didn’t learn anything about my new brother except for his patience.
Dad engulfed me in a bear hug the minute we stepped into the small lobby.
“Don’t do that again,” he said when he let go.
“Sorry, it was just too much.” I hugged him again. “I don’t know anything about her, about my family here.”
“We were deceived, Rachel.” His chin settled on the top of my head, digging in. I didn’t really feel it though. “Your mother warned me about Angela. You warned me about Angela. I didn’t listen. It’s my fault. Your grandfather showed me your mom’s computer. She kept every email she sent me, asking about you and begging for a response.”
“You never got them,” I stated, knowing Angela had managed all his accounts. He had trusted her.
“No, I never did.” He let go again, wiping away his tears. “I used to send her videos of you playing ball. Those first few years, I emailed her constantly, asking for her to come home. I never heard back. Or thought she didn’t respond. I was so wrong. She had even sent a confirmation for a plane ticket for you. I never got it.”
“If I see Angela again, I’m going to rip her hair out.” It was the worst thing I could think of that wasn’t a felony. And I thought of a few felonies too.
“Don’t worry about her, Ace. She’s going to have to leave St. Louis when I’m done with her.” Dad’s eyes deadened and the CEO appeared. Angela would never find another job in the Midwest again.
As much as I enjoyed seeing her go down hard, I would have preferred to have my mother back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The service was beautiful and a true testament to my mother. She was loved by many. Dad and I were not. While Nonno understood my absence after all these years, most of the extended family didn’t. They whispered hateful words more toward my father than toward me, but I was still included. The most common was “ungrateful” and “abandoned” plus a few not so nice names.
I took them in stride. It wasn’t the first time people talked about me. It wouldn’t be the last. I’d been the source of gossip for a long time. Obviously, the incident from my freshman year was still a hot source of conversation even now. I could only imagine what was being said about me at Xavier since I just disappeared.
Dad ignored it, too. Or he didn’t hear it, but knowing him, he heard every single word. I thought he would let it go.
I was so wrong.
Dad stood on a chair in the patio and tapped his wine glass with a spoon. In perfect Italian, he eulogized my mom. Nonno whispered a rushed translation in my ear.
“Many of you wonder why my daughter and I are here today. After, Francesca and I separated and eventually divorced, our lives took different paths. She wanted to return to her homeland. I did not want to leave mine. About a year later, all communication stopped until the divorce papers were signed, and even then, that was through lawyers.” Dad swallowed and sipped his glass. A few whispers echoed in the courtyard. “For the last several years, my daughter has been misled. She has lived without her mother and with the anger of being left behind. And she has grown into a strong young woman. Sometimes, too strong.” He smiled at me, and I wiped yet another tear. No matter what happened in my life, he would always be there for me. “It wasn’t until Enrico came to my home that we learned the truth.”
My grandfather stood and nodded to the crowd. He waved a hand at Dad for him to continue.
“We did not know Francesca had written, and until even more recently, emailed. There may have been missed phone calls and messages we didn’t receive. We thought the worst. And we did nothing to find out why. I take the blame for all of this. It was my responsibility to my daughter. Hate me if you want, but do not blame Rachel. Do not think my daughter didn’t love her mother.”
Dad stepped down from the chair and pulled me into a hug. I wanted to cry more, but I was all out of sobbing tears. The only ones left drifted down my cheeks. Dad let go and, without looking at me, took off inside the hotel.
“Your father is a good man,” Nonno said.
I stared toward the lobby where he disappeared. “Yeah, he is.”
“He never stopped loving your mother.” He squeezed my shoulder. “She loved him as well. Sometimes love isn’t enough.”
My thoughts drifted to Adam. “Then why even try?”
“Because if we do not love, we do not live.” Nonno turned me toward him. “Your mother understood that. She loved you, even when she thought you did not love her back.”
“I did.” My voice was hoarse, and I wasn’t sure if he heard me. “I loved her.”
“Hold on to that, Rachel,” he said. “That is how you will heal.”
Nonno returned to his guests. I glanced back to where Dad disappeared. Before I could follow his footsteps, family members I didn’t remember and who had shunned me moments ago, came up to me. They spoke in such rapid-fire Italian I couldn’t understand them. But I saw the sympathy in their eyes. I didn’t want their pity. As soon as I was able, I broke free and ran to my father’s room.
“Come in, Ace,” he said after I knocked lightly on the door.
“How’d you know it was me?” I asked as I stepped into the room.
Dad sat on a chair with his feet propped on the iron wrought railing of the small balcony. In his hand was his wine glass. The open bottle stood on the nearby table with another unopened bottle beside it.
“Who else could it be?” he asked without turning around. “Nobody here wants to see me.”
“That’s not true.” I sat in the second chair and mimicked his pose. “I want to see you.”
“You sure about that?” He drained the wine from his glass and refilled it. “If it wasn’t for me, you would never have lost touch with your mother.”
I shook my head. “That wasn’t you, Dad.”
“I should’ve fired that bitch when your mother asked me to,” he said, bitterness laced his voice. He swallowed half of his refilled wine. “She always said I never listened to her.”
“Angela’s the one who ruined our family, Dad. Not you.” I reached for the wine glass and took it from his hand. Tears choked my throat. “Please don’t. I still need you.”
Dad finally faced me and the grief on his face set my building tears free. “You’ll never lose me, Ace.”
I nodded, setting his glass on the small table. “I’m ... scared. I missed out on so much with her. With Nonno.” I snort-laughed. “I have two brothers. Who would’ve thought that?”
“She wanted a big family,” he said softly. “We tried after you were born, but we ... Then she left. Every day I’ve thought of her. I tried to get her to come home, Rachel. As much as we loved each other, it wasn’t enough.”
“But it was worth it?” I asked, my mind flicking toward Adam. I hadn’t talked to him in forever and had kept my phone off since we left for Italy. I’d asked Nonno something similar, but Dad’s opinion always mattered most to me.
“I wouldn’t change what little time I had with her for anything.” He put his hand over mine. “And I have you. You’re so much like her, Rachel. You have her strength, her wit, her resilience.”
“I have your stubbornness,” I said with a smile.
Dad laughed. “That you do.” He patted my hand and picked his wine glass up again. This time he took a small sip. “I miss her. I’ve missed her every day she’s been gone, but there was always hope she’d walk back in our door. Now that’s gone too.”
I nodded. Dad poured a second glass of wine and handed it to me. I raised my eyebrow.
“It’s legal here,” he said. “Besides, you get one glass.”
I laughed and sat back in my chair. We were silent for a few minutes, watching the birds fly toward the water. I loved the Tyrrhenian Sea. The blue of the water was second to none. Not even the Caribbean could compare.
“Can I come back for Christmas break?” I asked quietly. “I want to get to know Gino and Alfonso.”
Dad nodded, but he didn’t look at me. “Of course. I’ll talk to Enrico. We’ll make the arrangements when we get home.”
“Maybe you can come, too,” I said. The wine tasted sweet and dry as I sipped it. Mom used to talk about how nothing compared to Italian wine. I smiled at the memory of her in our kitchen, cooking and telling me about Italy. It was something I could add to my journal.
“I doubt your grandfather would want me around,” he said.
I shrugged. “I want you around. I think Nonno would want you, too.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “We’ll both come for Christmas. Okay?”
Dad nodded, but I knew I’d have to work harder to convince him. Regardless, I was going to return to Italy more often and celebrate my mother’s life with my family.
I spent the next several days with my brothers. Luckily, my Italian improved. Nonno was right. It came back faster than I realized. And so did the time. I’d been in Italy for almost two weeks when we packed up. Our flight left the next afternoon. Reality hit. I hadn’t checked my homework on the school’s website. I hadn’t checked in with anyone back home. My phone had been off since we left. Even with International calling, I just ignored it.
After I finished with my luggage, I logged on and emailed my teachers. I blamed my lack of accomplished homework on spotty internet service. Hopefully, they would give me extra time. Regardless, I’d have Sunday to get as much done as possible. If that wasn’t good enough, then whatever. My GPA might take a small hit, but it wouldn’t be much.
Then I turned on my phone.
There were twenty texts messages. I opened the app and focused on the last one. Adam.
Can we talk?
That was it. I didn’t respond. Did I want to talk to him? Yes, I did. Dad and Nonno were right. Love was worth the risk. Even the potential for love was worth the heartache. I’d spent so much time making sure my heart was never broken by any real affection. The role of the rebound was one I’d accepted willingly. I’d just never realized until Adam how much I wanted someone to love me for me. Sure, I’d wanted to change my reputation. That had been the entire goal of the game we started. But it wasn’t just because I wanted a serious relationship. I’d wanted guys to stop assuming things about me, like I was an easy lay. I’d wanted to be seen as a person. Adam saw that. Even if he didn’t realize it, he made me feel whole.
That wasn’t something I could say in a text. It would be better face to face. As soon as we landed, I was going to find him and tell him how I really felt. Heartbreak be damned.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I worked on my homework at the airport and on the plane, but by the time we were somewhere over the mid-Atlantic, I fell asleep. A girl can only do so much history before a coma sets in, after all. Dad woke me up once the flight attendant announced our descent. I glanced out my window to see the blinking red light on top of The Gateway Arch towering above the river.
Home.
Italy felt like a lifetime away already, even though it had only been less than a day. Still a fourteen-hour flight, first class or not, was exhausting. We landed early Saturday morning, but our plane took forever to taxi to the gate. I had almost fallen back asleep when Dad nudged me.
My legs were weak as we walked off the plane and to baggage claim. Then more waiting as our luggage was unloaded. Flying was great. Waiting sucked. Dad ordered a car, and we were home by four in the morning. I fell asleep on my bed still fully clothed. It was a little after eleven when I woke up. My phone buzzed with a message. I unplugged it from the charger and glanced at the name. Vicky had sent a group text.
Welcome home, Rachel!
I wasn’t entirely sure what Dad had told the school about my absence for the last few weeks. Knowing the neighborhood grapevine the way I did, the entire metropolitan area knew about Mom. They were just tiptoeing around it.
Andrea, Eva, Logan, and the rest of our group chimed in. Even Vicky’s boyfriend Daniel said hi. Erik had also sent a text of condolence and an open ear. I checked my last message from Adam. He hadn’t sent anything after it. That was his style. Adam wasn’t pushy or overbearing. He wasn’t possessive or controlling. I loved that about him.
I sent a quick wave emoji to the group and jumped in the shower. The jet lag washed away, and I savored the hot water. Nonno’s hotel showers were nice, but nothing ever beat home. I dressed quickly, and carefully, in mint green V-neck and a khaki skirt. Stylish, flattering, with an air of casualness that I normally didn’t do. I’d changed over the last few months, hell even the last two weeks. It wasn’t just Adam, either. It was me. Learning that my mom hadn’t completely abandoned me, learning that I was so much more than just someone people used for their own needs, learning that it was okay to be me. It was liberating.
Taking a chance on Adam, that was a big risk for me.
I got in my car and started it. But I didn’t know where to go. He could be anywhere. It was almost two in the afternoon on a Saturday. I racked my brain, trying to figure out the most likely scenario. My phone buzzed again.
Wanna do something tonight? It was from Vicky. Another message from her popped up.
I replied. Maybe. I’ll let you know in an hour or so.
K, she replied adding a smiley face.
Shaking my head to dislodge the too recent memories from my head, I left the house and drove toward south city. There were a few places I knew to look. He could be at the Gardens or he could be at one of his jobs. I decided to check with the guard at the Gardens first.
Missy was at her station when I pulled up. She ducked her head down and stared into my car.
“Is Adam here?” I asked as she glanced around the leather interior.
“Haven’t seen him today.” She whistled softly at the stereo. “He was here yesterday. Said he had to work today. You need a car this fancy?”
�
�Not really,” I said as I put it in drive. “Thanks, Missy.”
I parked on the street three blocks from the hardware store. Nerves rattled my stomach. I couldn’t remember a time when a boy made me feel like this. The only thing I could do was get out of the car and take one step at a time. That was harder than it sounded. I rounded the corner just in time to see a blonde in a short dress walk through the door.
Heather.
It didn’t mean anything, or so I told myself, but each step was heavier than the last. I was ready to put my heart on the line, tell Adam how I really felt about him, and face either a future with him or heartbreak head on.
But I wasn’t ready for what I saw.
When I looked into the hardware store, Heather stood behind Adam with her arms wrapped around his waist. His hands covered hers. I felt like a voyeur watching her kiss his shoulder, but I couldn’t move. When he glanced over his shoulder with a smile I wished he’d give me, I turned on my heel and walked away. I wasn’t going to cry. No, that wouldn’t do me any good. I’d lost. That’s all there was to it. I kept my head high as I made my way back to my car. Once securely buckled into the driver’s seat, I pulled out my phone and opened the text messages.
I responded to Adam’s last text.
There’s nothing to talk about.
I almost added a snide comment about Heather, but I didn’t. Losing was losing. Being a sore loser accomplished nothing. Instead I sent Vicky a text. She responded within a minute, inviting me over. I started the car and left. There wasn’t any reason to reminisce or wax poetic about our fake relationship. It was over.
Telling myself that only served as a way to not face the heartbreak. I’d been anticipating this would be how everything ended between us. I’d prepared for it. At least I thought I had.
By the time I pulled up to Vicky’s grandmother’s house, I’d almost convinced myself that it wasn’t a big deal. Daniel opened the front door and stepped outside. Vicky followed him, kissing him like she’d never see him again.
