Black Hearts Red

by Leigh, Anne

  After his call, I’d been too tired to think about why he was visiting me and I dozed off on my pillow. It wasn’t until I’d woken up and finished a ten-minute stroll in the park close to my apartment that I’d realized Nicholas’ intentions.

  He wasn’t just dropping by for lunch.

  I was actually chatting with Matteo who was stuck in a snowstorm in Chicago when it dawned on me; when Matty asked why Nicholas would be casually dropping by in the middle of the NFL season, just to have lunch with me, his sister.

  My boyfriend was downright laughing at me when he said, “Babe, Nic’s trying to see if I’m treating you right.”

  Nicholas was my brother. I knew where Mom kept pics of him when he was a booger-loving preschooler and a bed-wetting kindergartener. I knew that he never lost his cool with anyone unless they’d scored higher than he did on his video games. It would not be a far reach for me to put it together that Nicholas would want to see for himself that his best friend was treating me good. Sure, I could just text him and say all the nice things about Matteo, but the one thing that my brother and my dad had in common was that they liked to look people in the eye to find out the truth.

  Texts hid a lot of emotions.

  Anger, annoyance, happiness, excitement, sadness could be deciphered in a text, but the true feelings of a person could only be felt and shared by another if they were in front of you – that was according to Mom.

  I didn’t make a habit of lying to my parents and neither did my siblings.

  But when we did, we knew that we could get away with it if we did them through texts or phone calls.

  But never when we were looking into their eyes.

  The eyes were the windows to the souls.

  And the reason for many timeouts and groveling and scolding.

  “How are you doing, baby girl?” My dad’s blue-green eyes held scrutiny as he asked the question. They’d arrived forty minutes ago at my place, and after tons of hugs from my dad and a squabble with my brother about where to eat, we were now seated at the Mi Pasta – a new Italian-Greek fusion restaurant that had opened five months ago. I’d always wanted to try it, but I never had the time to book a reservation.

  I didn’t know how my brother managed to get us in with less than twenty minutes of calling the place. But then again, if there was anything other than football that my brother was a pro at, it would be convincing people to do his bidding.

  “I’m good, Daddy,” I said, giving him a smile that showed just how happy I was that he was there. We didn’t get to spend a lot of one-on-one time together these days. He might no longer hold the GM title, but his hands were still dipped in every area of the Minnesota Fox and football as a whole. He regularly watched home games with Mom and he was always flying around the country as an honorary guest to football-related events.

  “I heard you have a boyfriend.” Dad never liked to go the long route; he was a gunslinger. When he was still playing, I’d heard sports commentators talk about my dad’s quarterback skills – how precise he was, how he never went for the easy routes, how he threw the ball with so much accuracy that if the receiver didn’t catch it, the burden was on them.

  Nicholas, the annoying giant seated to my left, nudged me with his pointy brick elbow and I made a show of hurt. “Ouch!”

  Nicholas raised both of his hands up, “Didn’t do anything. Just tapped her side. Geez Louise, chill out.”

  Dad’s right brow ascended and he shook his head, “Nic, be nice to your sister.”

  It didn’t matter if I was at fault, Dad always sided with Sofia and I.

  We were his precious girls and my sister and I knew it. We also used it to our advantage.

  It wasn’t fair to Nicholas, but life wasn’t fair.

  Plus, it was nice to put him in his place once in a while. He was our dad’s carbon copy including his eyes which were an eclectic mix of green and blue, which made him a female magnet, cue eye roll, and a media darling. Mom loved all of us, but Nic was her baby boy and the scale tipped towards him when Mom was around.

  “I didn’t even –“ Nicholas shoved a warm, cheesy, gooey piece of Italian garlic bread into his face. I chuckled because my grown ass brother could never win against our fifty-three-year-old dad who would no doubt put him in his place if he said another word.

  Dad reached for my left hand and held it, “So about this boy…?”

  My face warmed at the mention of said boy. It didn’t matter how old I got, I would never be able to talk to my dad without blushing especially when it came to boys. I’d always been open to my parents about my relationships. Maybe more so than Sofia or Nicholas. Maybe because I was the baby and they never really said I couldn’t talk to them about anything.

  But boys was a different topic.

  For the simple fact that my dad always held them in a different category.

  When Sofia and I were kids, Dad said boys had bugs and cooties and if they touched us in a wrong way, we should break their fingers.

  When we were teenagers, Dad said boys thought of nasty things and we should never be alone with them. But if we were, we needed to make sure that we knew our ways out.

  Of course he didn’t say those things in front of Mom because Mom would’ve strung him up by his head, but my sister and I knew that Dad didn’t like the idea of his girls having boyfriends.

  It wasn’t until Sofia was finished with her first round of college courses that Dad sat Sofia and I down to talk about the difference between boys and men.

  Boys, he said, made decisions based on impulse and want.

  Men, he said, made theirs through wisdom and need.

  “He’s a man, Daddy, and you know him.” I held his hand tighter, providing reassurance. “He treats me really good, and he can’t wait to spend some time with us in the summer.”

  Nicholas coughed out, “Chicken.”

  I ignored my brother. “He wanted to spend Christmas with us, but I don’t think he’ll be able to. There’re some delays in the projects in Asia and he might have to travel during the holidays. He doesn’t want his Mom not spending Christmas with his Dad.”

  “I take it I know him?” Dad wasn’t going to make this easy for me and I didn’t expect him to. I’d never really introduced a boyfriend to him. Guy friends, sure. But boyfriends, not one. And definitely not one who our family was close to.

  “His name’s Matteo Tanner, Dad.”

  “Ah.” One syllable.

  I couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.

  “Would you like to order now?” The server named Pio had impeccable timing. Dad ordered a steak dish. I wanted the mushroom ravioli and Nicholas opted for the chicken and shrimp fettucine.

  We all thanked Pio and once his back was turned to us, Nicholas said, “So.”

  I rolled my eyes at my brother and replied, “So?”

  “You and my best friend.” Nicholas held a smirk and he was holding the last piece of garlic bread. I thought they had five in the basket. I’d only grabbed one and I was only halfway through it before my mouth started revolting against the taste of it. It had looked so good, but apparently my taste buds didn’t agree.

  “Yep. Me and your BFF.”

  “So cliché,” Nicholas said. “Why can’t you find a different boyfriend?”

  “Why not Matteo?” I retorted. Nicholas and Matteo have been best friends for years. Now that my brother was bringing it up, I could tell that Nicholas was feeling slighted about the situation. Matty had to cancel on their plans because he wanted to spend time with me. “I get it now; you want him for yourself. Now he can’t watch your games because he’s so busy and the free time he gets, he flies here.”

  “No.” A denial that quick meant I hit a nerve.

  Dad was just watching us with thorough amusement, he must miss the days of constant nagging from my sister and I, and the fights between me and my siblings because he had a small grin on his face and a faraway look in his eyes.

  “I can’t find a different boyfrien
d,” I said, my brother and my dad knew Matteo through their eyes, but not through my own lens. And the reason why they were here today was because other than an inquisition, they wanted to hear it, with my own voice, and see it, for their own peace of mind, that I was being taken care of.

  For no other reason than because they loved me.

  “I mean I could…” I’d tried and I’d gone on a few dates, but none of them would ever hold a candle to how Matty made me feel. “But he’s always been special to me.”

  “He supports my goals and he wants me to achieve all my dreams.” My dad reiterated that good men knew when to stay back so that their women could shine. That they knew how to sacrifice and be patient so that their partner could make their own dreams come true. “He helps me break down complex business theories so I could relate to them and even when he’s super tired, he stays on the phone, asking if I need any help.”

  “He doesn’t push me into doing anything I don’t want.” Nicholas had said that pushovers were the worst. “He challenges me, but never forces anything on me. And he genuinely cares about how I am. He could be on another continent, but he’d order a pizza for me if I said I hadn’t eaten.”

  Dad and Nicolas shared a look, and the next thing I knew, Nicholas was pulling me to his side and planting a kiss on my forehead, making me let go of Dad’s hand for a second.

  My brother’s voice was in my ear, but I was sure Dad could hear it. “He’s my best friend and you’re my sister. You have a slight edge over him because we share the same DNA. If he ever does anything to hurt you, I’ll make him suffer.”

  I nodded my head and embraced the love surrounding me.

  These two men had shown me what to expect from men who loved women.

  My brother didn’t have a girlfriend that lasted long, but he was a great brother – sure, he had his own box of crazy, irritating tricks, but I never for a second, doubted that he loved me.

  My dad lifted his left hand to drink water from his glass. He used to drink beer, but he often limited them to weekends now. After he’d retired from football, he didn’t have to train as much as he did. He was still fit for his age, but my mother had a lot to do with that. He and Mom competed against each other on who made the most steps and who burned the most calories. Ever since we stepped into this restaurant, the number of heads that turned for my brother were equal for my dad.

  Dad, who’d been quiet for a bit now, finally said something, “Milo called me.”

  Uncle Milo didn’t say much. He was really funny once you got to know him and when he started talking, he couldn’t be stopped, but on social events, he let his wife take over. And he was so proud of Aunt Ava. I could see it in the way he looked at her – as if Aunt Ava was the reason for his existence. After Reece’s death, I didn’t see much of Uncle Milo and Aunt Ava, but I often heard my mom talking about them – how Uncle Milo was holding everything together. How they’d gone through grief counseling. How Uncle Milo had forced Aunt Ava to turn over the reins of T & T to capable personnel so they could grieve. He wasn’t a man who hogged the spotlight, but when necessary, he spoke in front of the media and he was great at it. I’d heard that he’d been the bad boy of swimming while Uncle Kieran was the golden boy. I wished I could have been a fly on the wall in their past, but that would mean that I’d have to be the same bug flying over my parents’ pasts too. And if that meant watching them kiss more than they do now – no, thank you.

  Nicholas said, with his two fingers up in the air. “Hold on, Dad.”

  I turned my head to see that Pio had our plates in his hands.

  It was amazing how the servers could hold these heavy plates without toppling them over.

  Clumsy me would be fired within the first hour of being hired.

  I’d lifted weights and grown men on the mat, but balancing plates with steaming food was another story.

  Pio arranged the plates in front of us and we all started eating.

  My stomach thanked me for the food and I was pretty sure that this food was heavenly, but I could only take small bites.

  My taste buds were acting really funny.

  The nurse from my last week’s appointment did say that one of the side effects of my heart medications was nausea. She said to call the office if it persisted.

  I might have to.

  Nicholas loaded his plate with red peppers and took three huge bites. “Damn, this is good.”

  Dad nodded his head, “Yeah.”

  “Yup,” I said as I took another bite before washing it down with water. I loved raviolis, but now all I could think about was a slice of the watermelon I’d been bingeing on for the past two weeks.

  “What did Uncle Milo call you about, Dad? Is it about his will? Because you know, I’d really love to inherit Supreme Fighting.” My brother was a front row spectator of the SWF fights. He loved playing football, but during the off-season, the reason he stayed in Vegas was to watch the fights in person.

  Dad tsked and said, “Yeah, he said you can buy his son out of SWF.”

  SWF was a multimillion dollar business. The contract with HBO four years ago skyrocketed SWF to another level. What was two hundred fifty thousand per game for the popular fighters became a five million deal, with additional money coming from the buy-ins.

  I’d glimpsed at the financial reports for T & T when I worked there. Other interns might not have the same privileges but I wasn’t really an intern. I was an honorary, forced company to Matteo. One of which he was grateful to. Now.

  If I hadn’t insisted to spend my summer learning about how company operated, who knew where we’d be now.

  Maybe we still would not be speaking to each other.

  Anyways, it was all in hindsight.

  “Milo talked to me about his son dating my daughter.” Dad wiped his mouth with the white fabric napkin, and my breath slowed as his words sank in. No matter what happened between Matteo and I, our families would always be connected.

  “Milo told me to tell him if his son ever acted like a jackass and he would personally see to it that his son gets sent to maximum solitary confinement.”

  Nicholas’ food flew in the air. “Really?”

  I tapped on Nicholas’ back. He was obviously just as shocked as I was.

  “This is fucking gold.” Mom wasn’t here so my brother was taking advantage of cursing at the table. “I should record you, Dad, and send it to Matteo.”

  Dad’s laugh lines were more visible when he laughed, but even the greys in his hair couldn’t hide the fact that he was aging extraordinarily well. “I’m sure Matteo knows already. Milo didn’t raise a wimp. Or an asshole either.”

  If my dad knew that…

  If my brother knew that…

  “Then why are you guys here?” If they knew that Matteo was a good man, then they should’ve saved jet fuel and called me instead of flying over here for lunch.

  “What do you mean?” Dad’s expression was quizzical and Nicholas’ reflected the same confused look.

  “If you know that Matty’s good and he’s treating me well then why’re you guys spending time with me?” I would be seeing them in a few weeks. Christmas was upon us soon enough. They could have asked me all the questions then.

  Dad’s face broke into a smile, the dimple on the right side of his face showing, the one that Mom’s hands would rub into whenever it appeared. “Nic didn’t fly back with his team because they have a bye week, he was in town and was bugging me about what to do with you and Matteo.”

  “Matteo and me?” Now I was the one confounded. “Why would you have anything to do with my relationship with your best friend?” This time I directed my question to Nicholas.

  Nicholas just shrugged his shoulders under the white athletic shirt he was wearing. “Matteo’s not telling me much. I just want to make sure you’re good.”

  “He’s not supposed to tell you anything about me and him.” I grabbed the napkin and smacked his shoulder.

  Oh these two.

 
Wait til Mom heard about this.

  And Sofia.

  They flew across the country because they were bored, and they wanted to gossip about me and my boyfriend since my boyfriend wasn’t spilling details.

  “Baby girl,” Dad said, his face contouring the shadows of a smile. “He’s your first official boyfriend. I wanted to see for myself that you’re okay. You’re thousands of miles away from me and I’ve heard horrible stories about guys not treating their young ladies right. Your brother might have instigated it, but I’d have flown here without him, one of these days, because I wanted to hear it straight from you. I hear all these good things about him – how great of a businessman he is, how he’s added company after company to T & T’s portfolio, and as much as I’ve known him since he was a little kid – I don’t know how he treats my baby girl. It’s our job – your brother and mine – to kick anyone’s ass if they harm any part of you.”

  And with those words, my dad incinerated me to tears.

  I didn’t know where Nicholas got it from, but he had a tissue in his hand that he offered to me, and within seconds, I was wiping my tears and blowing snot bubbles into it.

  “You can keep it, ‘ster,” Nicholas said softly while chuckling.

  After hiccups and half a glass of water, I said, “Thank you for coming. I love you, Dad. I can tolerate you, Nicholas. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m doing good and rest assured, Matteo’s a good man. Now let’s see if we could get some dessert.”

  My tummy liked the key lime pie and Nicholas raved about the Tiramisu.

  Dad settled for a few bites of our decadent choices.

  We got to talking about football, and this time it was my turn to be in the back seat as I listened to my dad and brother have a healthy debate about football.

  I drove them to my school and showed them a few of Berkeley’s famous spots. Dad had been there with me and Mom when I was scouting for colleges and he remembered having an allergy attack after we visited the Botanical Garden so we stayed around the campus area.