Perseverance (Disenchanted Book 2)

by L. D. Davis

  “You’re questioning me like Mom did when I was fourteen and trying to leave the house on a school night.”

  “I’m sorry, but…” She shrugged and shook her head at the same time. “You don’t ‘go out.’ You’ve told me about your non-existent social life enough times that I believed you, and I wasn’t aware that you knew anyone from this area.”

  “He’s not from this area. He’s from New York.”

  Again, her brows rose high. Her forehead must’ve been confused. “He? As in a him? A guy?”

  “As in him, my friend Adam.”

  “Where do you know him from? How did you meet him?”

  I sighed, annoyed. “Listen, Lily. I appreciate you doing this…whatever it is you’re trying to do, but I’m a grown up now, in case you didn’t know. I don’t need to be interrogated.”

  Her eyes rolled. “I’m not interrogating you. I’m making sure you’re okay.”

  “So I’m not okay because I want to go out for a little while?”

  “Lydia, don’t be difficult. I’m just concerned.”

  My phone vibrated in my hand. Adam was waiting downstairs in front of the building. I texted him back to let him know I would be down while I continued to talk to my sister.

  “I met Adam at the Herrington party. He’s Aiko Herrington’s older brother. We became friends, and he drove down from New York so we could, you know, hang out and do friend things before I go back to Ohio, and now he is downstairs waiting for me.” I looked up and tucked my phone into my pocket. “And now I am going to go out.”

  I started to walk away, but Lydia kept talking. “You’re going out with one of Marco’s friends? Does he know?”

  I sighed again and turned to look at her. “He’s not just Marco’s friend, he’s mine, too. I don’t have to check in with Marco when I do anything with my life, even if it’s with a friend we have in common.”

  “But he’s your…”

  “My what? My boyfriend? Newsflash, Lily, we broke up.”

  Her eyes rolled again, and it annoyed the crap out of me. “I know that, although I don’t know why you broke up a perfectly good relationship with a perfectly good man. However, I would think you going out with his friend is pertinent information.”

  “If you think it’s so pertinent, tell him yourself,” I snapped and walked out the door.

  When I got downstairs, a sleek silver car with tinted windows sat at the curb. Adam stood beside it, deep in conversation with one of the security guards about the car. I never got into cars like that. All I knew was that Adam’s car was a Mercedes. I didn’t know what year, what class, or any of its specs. I did know that a brand new Mercedes could cost as low as thirty-five grand, to as much as two hundred grand. Two hundred thousand dollars. For a car. I had no idea how much Adam’s cost, but considering his affluent career and other background information, I guessed it wasn’t one of the cheaper ones.

  The security guard gave me a courteous nod as he went back inside the building. Adam spread his arms wide as he grinned at me. “Look at you! Walking like a big girl.”

  “Don’t be an ass.”

  We embraced briefly, and he took a moment to look down at my leg. “It’s only been a few weeks and you’re already better. You’re kicking ass, girl.”

  Despite my irritable mood, a corner of my mouth did lift. I was pretty proud of myself. “Some days are better than others. Today is a good day. There are other days when I want to saw it off.”

  “That’s normal. You have another appointment coming up soon, right?”

  “Yeah, in about two weeks.”

  He opened the passenger-side door for me. “All right, if I can be there, I will.”

  We drove to a section of Fairmount Park, the largest park in the city. It was about fourteen square miles and the Schuylkill River ran through it, making it a scenic place to be at any time of the year. Lily and Gavin had taken me there a few times many years ago. It was a perfect place to walk, run, and other outdoor activities.

  “What did Marco say when he saw you walking with less of a limp and less pain?” Adam asked after we’d been on a trail for a good fifteen or so minutes. It was really cold, especially so close to the water, but it still felt good to be outside.

  “Nothing. He didn’t really see me walking.”

  “What about on Thanksgiving? He must’ve seen you then before you chased him out of your house.”

  I shrugged. “Guess not. Guess he didn’t pay attention.”

  “Well, he’ll pay attention to you at the wedding reception when you’re out on that dance floor.”

  I shrugged again. “Who knows?”

  It did hurt my feelings that no one seemed to recognize that I was walking better. I wasn’t in form to run or anything, and I still had a lot of pain, but the limp was less severe. It seemed like people still viewed me as I was before, weak and broken.

  I changed the subject, not wanting to discuss something with potential to make me emotional. “You know, I hate to tell you this, but you drive a vapid egotist kind of car.”

  He sounded resigned. “I know, but it’s the only showy display I own.”

  “You mean besides your perfect teeth?”

  “Right.”

  “And your Cartier watch?”

  “It’s a good watch!”

  “And your exotic trip planned to Indonesia?”

  “It’s Indonesia! You would go too if you could.”

  I gave him a sidelong look. “Just admit it. You’re really a vapid egotist in denial.”

  “I’m a prominent orthopedic surgeon in Manhattan! I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “Just admit you’re a materialistic snob, and we’re good.”

  “That’s it. That’s it, I’ve had it with you. If you do need surgery, I’m going to botch it on purpose. Then with my vapid egotist bank account, I’ll buy you one of those wheel things dogs use when they don’t have back legs.”

  What he said was so ridiculous I laughed, which released so much of the tension I’d had since the morning.

  “You know what? I’m literally freezing my balls off. Let’s go do something else.”

  I clapped my hands together. “Ohhh, I know just the place for you.”

  “If it’s one of those clubs with the whips and chains, it’s really not my scene. I found that out the hard way. You don’t want to know.”

  I snickered. “No, but it’s almost as fun. You trust me?”

  “Not at all,” he said but followed me back to the car anyway.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon at the Mütter, a medical museum with a lot of oddities and medical artifacts. Most of it was disturbing but fascinating. Adam loved it, just as I thought he would. Afterward, we went to dinner. It was so nice to just hang out with a friend, out in the city, just like I used to do back in Columbus as a teenager and in Cleveland as a college student. I’d forgotten what it felt like. Was it always so tiring, though, or was I just getting old?

  I yawned for the fourth time during dinner, making Adam put down his fork and glare at me across the table.

  “You keep yawning, like I’m boring you to sleep. Am I boring you to sleep, Aurora?”

  “I’m pretty sure Aurora fell into her deep sleep because she pricked her finger on a spinning wheel, not because she was bored to death by a nerdy physician. I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep much last night or the night before, and the trip out here…” I sighed and waved a hand. “Just tired. I was going to take a nap earlier after the kids left, but then I had this discussion with my sister, and then I was just going to take a walk, and then you called.”

  “As soon as I finish my steak, I’ll take you back.”

  I looked down at his massive steak with sautéed mushrooms piled on top. For a reason unbeknownst to me, I reached across the table and speared a piece on my fork. I didn’t like mushrooms, and I thought they were weird looking, but the steak looked picture perfect, like food porn. To my delighted surprise, though, I didn’t
die when I tasted the mushrooms.

  “Oh, that’s…that’s actually good.” I took another bite of Adam’s steak.

  As our waiter passed, I stopped him. “Can I get a side of the sautéed mushrooms?”

  Adam eyed me skeptically after the waiter left.

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “You don’t like mushrooms. I specifically recall you being thoroughly disgusted by the mushroom on your plate at the party.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe I haven’t given them a chance, or maybe every time I’ve had them in the past they weren’t prepared properly.”

  He was unconvinced. “Okay. So, are you excited about the wedding? Did I ever tell you I met your sister once?”

  I felt my nose wrinkle at that. “No. When? Where?”

  “Earlier this year. Marco brought her to The Dower with him. I was there with other people, so I wasn’t sitting with them that time, but we were introduced. She probably doesn’t remember me. We didn’t really talk.”

  “Oh, she remembers you,” I muttered.

  “How do you know that? Was it my striking good looks that she remembers? Or was it my dashing personality?”

  “I’m sure it was neither of those things, especially since she didn’t seem to approve of my friendship with you. It seemed to be an issue that I had befriended one of ‘Marco’s friends.’ Like I stole you or something.”

  The waiter reappeared with my sautéed mushrooms. I didn’t even bother putting them on my own steak and just started to eat them right out of the bowl as I continued to gripe.

  “I mean, it’s rather hypocritical considering she is such good friends with Marco, and he was Kyle’s friend first, and don’t even get me started on how good of friends they were at one time.”

  “Uhh…” Adam was staring at me, bemused. “You’re really enjoying those mushrooms.”

  “Yeah. They’re good. Hey, did you ever talk to Celeste?”

  His cheeks turned a little pink at the mention of her name, and he gave me a sheepish smile. “No. I don’t want to just show up at her door and proclaim my love for her. That would be weird. I wanted to run into her at an event or something, and I did, but she was with a date. So I didn’t say anything.”

  “Maybe you should just, I don’t know, call her. Ask her to brunch at that fancy club or something.”

  “I’ve thought about it, but she just got back from Italy a couple days ago. I figured I’d give her some time to get herself oriented again.”

  I froze with my glass of water halfway to my mouth. “I’m sorry. She just got back from where?”

  He looked at me like I was an idiot and talked slowly as if I had trouble understanding words. “Italy. You already know this.”

  I carefully put my glass down on the table and continued to stare at Adam. Now I did feel like I didn’t understand words, or like I was an idiot. It seemed to dawn on him in that moment, that what he thought I knew, I hadn’t known.

  His eyes narrowed and then widened. “You didn’t know?”

  “Tell me what it is you think I didn’t know,” I said tightly.

  Adam put his fork and knife down again, sat back in his chair, and stared at me. He looked a little shocked, but also apologetic, and maybe a little guilty for having to be the one to spill the beans.

  “Celeste was in Italy with Marco.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Marco

  Two Weeks Ago

  Massimo stood by the window, watching his children and the children of our sisters as they played outside in the courtyard. If I did not know any better, I would have thought he was carved of stone, he stood so still. He hadn’t moved in a long time, maybe as much as fifteen minutes. That is a long time to stand silent and unmoving. I pretended to be too busy to notice him, but it was impossible not to.

  My brother had once been an imposing figure, heavily built, and robust. He used to spend hours a day in the gym weight training. Although he was still big, he seemed more like an outline of the man he was a year ago. The chemotherapy and the cancer robbed him of healthy muscle and fat. His thick, dark hair was gone. What hadn’t fallen out had been shaved off. His skin, which, like mine, had always been on the darker side of olive, was now a strange combination of alabaster and a sickly gray.

  “I was always too busy to go outside and play with the children.” His voice carried across the expanse of the room, sounding quiet and tired. “There was always a meeting, or a plane waiting to fly me away from home. Always paperwork, and computer work, and people work, and work, work, work.”

  I stopped what I was pretending to do behind the desk and gave him my full attention. This was not the first time he was reflecting on his life—the good, the bad, and the not so pretty. It was always hard to hear, because it felt like he was reading the last few chapters of his book, with the not-happy-ending on the horizon.

  “I missed Roberto’s first Epiphany. I was in Greece. Between you and me, I could have made it home in time, but it seemed impossible then. When Laura was born, I was in my office on a conference call. I didn’t even end the call when our mother rang to tell me the news.” His shoulders shifted up and back down. “I’ve missed many other important occasions, and I regret them all, but what I really regret the most is not playing with my children. Running across the grass, swimming, or just kicking a ball around. I was always too busy, and now it is too late.”

  He seemed to accept that things were the way they were and that he had no time to change them. Every time he spoke like that, it hurt my heart. It hurt my soul.

  I hid my feelings carefully. “It isn’t necessarily too late. It will take some time, but you will be able to play with your children, and your grandchildren. Perhaps, even your great-grandchildren.”

  My brother smirked and finally looked away from the window. “Your optimism is precious. You should market your words and put them on greeting cards, or mugs, or in fortune cookies. Perhaps stitch a few phrases in a quilt.”

  I gave him a rude gesture my mother would have smacked me for, making Massimo chuckle.

  “I don’t see how any of this is funny.”

  “I’m dying, but my sense of humor doesn’t have to have a premature death as well. Neither does yours. It is okay to laugh once in a while. It won’t kill you or kill me any faster.”

  “I’m sorry if I don’t consider your illness very comical.”

  “You haven’t found anything comical since you’ve come back.” His eyes narrowed. “Did something happen between you and your juice box girlfriend?”

  “She has nothing to do with your macabre humor.”

  “So, something did happen between you and Juice Box.”

  I scowled at him, wishing he was stronger so I could give him a hearty brotherly shove for being a pain in the butt. “Her name is Lydia, not juice box, and she is none of your business.”

  He was undeterred and refused to be shut down. “I couldn’t remember her name because you’ve barely mentioned her since your arrival. What happened? Don’t tell me to mind my business or say you don’t want to talk about it. I’m dying, so you have to grant me my wishes and requests, and I wish to know about Lydia.”

  I grumbled a few choice curses under my breath, and with a sigh, sat down in the chair. “I didn’t leave on good terms. There was a misunderstanding, and we argued.”

  It had been much more than an argument, but I could not tell my brother that I fought with my girlfriend because she thought I spent too much time with his wife. Under the circumstances, I felt my time with Celia was justified, but I didn’t want Lydia’s wild ideas to enter into my brother’s head. He didn’t need that.

  Massimo’s forehead crinkled as he considered what I’d said. “So, if I am understanding you correctly, brother, you argued with your girlfriend and then invited another woman with you back to Italy?”

  I frowned. “She’s not ‘another woman.’ She’s just Celeste.”

  “She is ‘just Celeste’ to you, and to us, but who is s
he to Lydia?”

  Not for the first time, I thought there was no love lost between the two women. When Celeste offered to join me in Italy, I had considered what Lydia would think of it, but then, according to her, we weren’t even together. We barely spoke. Admittedly, I’d been rather preoccupied with things here, but she was still angry, still bitter, and still willfully misinterpreting the situation.

  “I see you trying to justify your decisions in that thick head of yours,” Massimo said with a shake of his head. “You shouldn’t have left until you fixed whatever the problem was with Lydia.”

  “I needed to get back here to you and the family.”

  “No, you didn’t, and you don’t need to be here now, Marcello—especially with another woman, platonic or not. If you really love and want Lydia, do not waste your time on people and places who matter less.”

  My hands closed into fists on the desk as I glared across the room at my brother. I barely kept myself from shouting at him. “You think you matter less?”

  Mass lowered his gaze and his head shook from side to side. When he looked at me again, all of his earlier humor was gone, and his expression was just as serious as the disease murdering him.

  “Don’t learn the hard way, Marco. With the exception of any children you may have, when you realize you have that perfect someone, the other half of your soul, everyone and everything will be less than her.”

  His words cleaved my chest straight down the middle. The dull but constant ache I’d had for Lydia since I left the states flared into a full blown throbbing pain inside my rib cage. I wanted to ask him if that’s the way it truly was with him and Celia, if everyone else, including me, had been less than her all those years ago, but I didn’t get a chance. There was a soft knock on the door before it opened.

  Immediately, almost by magic, Massimo’s face regained some color, and he stood up straighter, as if he had no pain and the strength he’d had twenty years ago.

  “Tess,” he breathed her name, as if he was relieved to see her, like he’d been waiting all day just to see her.

  Tessa Mavros had been my brother’s best friend since they were still toddling around in diapers, although she’s spent the majority of her adult years in Greece. With a Greek father and an Italian mother, she looked like she belonged in the Mediterranean. Her thick hair was black, her skin a smooth golden beige, and her eyes chestnut brown.