He nodded slowly again.
“When I read about the job at Starhurst, I went for it majorly. I wanted to move here for her, because it’s so safe and clean, and she’ll be away from the influences of my f-a-m. They’re all a little, uh, off.”
Nola yawned again and put her head down on my shoulder. “I’m tired. I want to get out.”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Usually I have to drag you out of the pool.” She put her thumb in her mouth, which she never did anymore. “Ok, topolina. Let’s get out.” And I climbed my winter-pale, still-hadn’t-run ass up the ladder and out of the water with her clinging to me. I sat down on a chaise with Nola in my lap and wrapped one of our old towels around us. “You ok, Noles?” She nodded against my shoulder and I snuggled her.
“Is she all right?” Luca called. I watched appreciatively as he climbed out, too. Now, here was someone who didn’t miss a workout. Oh, Jesus, thank you, and I meant that sincerely. I felt genuine gratitude to a higher power for allowing me to see Luca pull himself over the edge of the pool with muscles that I didn’t even begin to have and had never actually seen on a mostly-unclothed man (in person, I meant, not in video, digital, or print formats). All the beautiful ripples and grooves of his shoulders, and pecs, and arms, and those abs again, but now all wet, and he did the hair toss off his forehead…
“Jolie?”
He was waiting for me to answer. “Sorry, what?”
“I asked if she’s feeling ok.”
I put my cheek against her forehead, the way I had learned to do with my siblings and cousins. “She doesn’t feel hot but she was just in the cool water. I don’t know. Usually she swims for hours, if I let her.”
“I’m tired,” Nola mumbled.
And she had been acting different yesterday at school, then had the hysterical episode before dinner. “Want to cuddle for a while?” Another nod, and in just a few moments, she was asleep.
“What happened to her bike?” Luca asked quietly. He had taken a towel from their stash of fluffy, nice ones, but fortunately for me, he had draped it loosely around his shoulders, so mostly everything was still visible.
I told him about the scene in the storage area after checking to make sure that Nola was really out. “I guess it was probably just kids,” I said.
He looked unconvinced. “Pretty vicious kids in your building.”
“Or maybe someone broke in looking for something good, and when there wasn’t anything but my papers and a bike, got mad.” But I felt uncertain. And unsettled. “I don’t know, but I have to get her a new bike. Dark pink with butterflies and real pedals was her final decision.” Sigh. Now I just needed to find it, and part with the money.
“And you won’t call the police?”
“No, that’s silly. Over a kid’s bike? I don’t want to mess with the police.”
Luca shook his head, but then he reached over and brushed my hair back behind my ear. He sat and looked at me, then leaned over again and kissed me, briefly, on my mouth. Kiss number three. “This isn’t what I thought would happen when we saw each other today, but I’m glad that you and Nola came over.”
“Me too,” I said. He kissed me again. Number four. My heart raced. “Um, it seems like you’re pretty into my suggestion of us…” I looked significantly at his pelvic area, raising my eyebrows.
“Well, you in your bathing suit…it leads my mind in interesting directions.”
Maybe his vision was impaired or something, but I was going with it. “I’ll head in that direction,” I told him. “Far, far along that path.” There was no playing hard to get in this situation; Luca and I were after one thing, and one thing only. But not with Nola sleeping on my lap. I looked down at her scrunched-up little face.
“Want to lay her down here?” He patted the seat.
“I wouldn’t feel right…you know, right now.”
“Me neither. But we could keep an eye on her and swim together.” He spread out some of his thick towels helped me put Nola down on them. Then he took my hands and pulled me closer. I could feel the heat from his (mostly) naked body. I wasn’t thinking about my old bathing suit, kind of stretched out and not the most flattering, or my hips that had a few extra inches, or my pale skin, except how it felt where I was touching his hands. He pulled me a little closer. Now I was touching his arms and his waist. “Come butta, caramellina?" Wow, his eyes were blue.
“What? Cara-what?” I sounded all breathy.
He pulled me closer. “Caramellina. Look it up, teacher.” His gaze went over to the sleeping Nola. “I do feel pretty inappropriate right now.”
I leaned in and breathed him. “Yes. Jesus, yes.”
“Will this work between us, Jolie?” He looked down into my face, so concerned. “I like you a lot. I don’t want to end up hurting you somehow.”
“Don’t give yourself so much credit,” I told him. I was wobbling there on my tiptoes, trying to make his lips get on mine. “I’m not going to get emotionally invested. If anyone will get hurt, it’s you—you’re the pushover with your ex-girlfriend. Aren’t you worried about yourself?”
“No. I don’t want another girlfriend. I don’t want a date, even.”
“You just want an easy…” I wasn’t going to say it, even if Nola was asleep. “And so do I.”
He leaned down. “I think we should go for it.”
“Luca?” a voice called.
I hadn’t even heard the door to the pool room—wing—open and close, but Luca’s mom, the princess/countess lady, was walking across the tile toward us. I had been so focused on staring at her son like he was a popsicle I wanted to lick, I had missed her beautiful, royal-ish presence. I grabbed the towel off Luca and wrapped it over myself as he picked up his head and turned to his mother. My hands shook as I tucked the towel more securely.
“Luca, Italian Italian Italian,” she said to her son, or that was how it sounded to me. She smiled a little in my direction. “I mean, his father would like to see him.”
“Mutter mutter in Italian,” Luca answered angrily. “I’ll be right back.” Sadly, he pulled on his shirt, obscuring the lovely view of himself.
Raffaella looked over at my daughter and smiled a little more. “A nap? She is tired?”
Her accent made those words sound special and cool. “I think she may be coming down with something, actually. On any other day, she would be in this beautiful pool, living her best life.”
Luca’s mom immediately put her hand against Nola’s forehead. “She does feel a little warm. I can see if we still have a children’s thermometer. It would be from the days of when Luca was small.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I assured her. We stood in awkward silence. “Um, maybe you would know. I mean, of course you would know, being Italian, I mean, I wonder if you know, but of course you would know.” Shut up. “Can you tell me what ‘caramellina’ means?” And as the word left my mouth, I really, really hoped I hadn’t just said something dirty to Luca’s mother.
Her eyebrows raised and she smiled a little. “It means ‘candy.’ A piece of candy, a little sweet.” Her smile grew larger. “Is that what my son calls you? It’s a term of endearment.”
“He doesn’t mean anything by it,” I said quickly. “He said that once, only, probably as a joke. He calls my daughter a little mouse. That’s just how he is.” Of course, his mother would know better than I would how Luca was. I cleared my throat. “Your husband was really accomplished in sports,” I said, gesturing to the shrine hallway.
“In everything,” she assured me. “In school and business. He has always succeeded, in everything.” She was clearly very proud. “As has Luca,” she quickly added, “but he put all his awards away.” She sat on my old chair and I put myself at Nola’s feet, my hand on her little legs.
“I think Luca’s great,” I told her. “He’s a wonderful guy. I bet you’re very proud.”
“Of course! I’m very, very proud of Luca. As is his father,” Raffaella added quickly. “We a
re both very proud. My husband just shows it differently.” My mind went immediately to what my friend Lanie had said, about Luca’s father being a dick at his games.
“That must have been difficult for him. Doing the same sport that his father had so much success in,” I mentioned.
“Well, yes,” she admitted. “Luca had always wanted to play soccer. He did, when he was young, but then my husband said, ‘No. We play polo.’” She had deepened her voice to say the words. Raffaella shrugged. “No more soccer, after that. Luca was very good at sports, just not what his father was.”
“He doesn’t need to be what his father was,” I said, my voice sharp. I softened it. “Right? He just needs to be the best that he can be, all by himself, not judged next to anyone else. And I think he’s awesome.”
I did. I was thinking that he was pretty much the best.
Chapter 9
“Mama.”
Nola sat up, pushing off the towels, and both Raffaella and I turned to her. “My throat hurts.” Her cheeks looked flushed and her eyes were a little glassy.
I felt her forehead again, and she did seem hot. “Poor Noles,” I told her and took her in my arms. “You’re not feeling good?”
She shook her head and burrowed. “I feel bad.”
“Let’s go home and get some medicine for you,” I said, and reached for our clothes.
“You can come back,” Raffaella told Nola. “Anytime. I’ll go get Luca.” She glided away and I got us dressed.
Luca came in with his mom a moment later and looked at Nola’s sad face. “Heading home, topolina? We can swim more another day. And go for a bike ride together with your new bike.” He hesitated. “Can I carry you? I think your mama’s foot still hurts.”
She hesitated too, but then she reached out her arms to him, and just for a moment, my breath caught and my heart stuttered. Luca settled my daughter against him and she put her hot cheek on his shoulder.
“Jolie?” he asked.
I nodded at him and found my voice. “Thank you for letting us come swim,” I told Raffaella. “It was nice to meet you.”
She put her hand briefly on Nola’s shoulder, her face concerned. “Of course. We’re happy to have you.” I walked with Luca up to my car, as he patted Nola’s back. He talked to her quietly about swimming and about a pink bike, and I saw her nod a few times.
“Let me know how she’s doing,” Luca said after he placed Nola in her car seat. He shook his head. “Not at all how I thought this would turn out.” He squinted up at the house.
“Unfortunately, things with kids rarely go according to plan. Thank you so much for inviting us down here, and swimming with Nola. It means a lot to me.”
Luca looked into my eyes. “Are you all right?”
Because I was getting close to tears. Seeing him with Nola…it made my heart melt. It also made me realize how much she was missing because of my poor choices, because Ty was her father. “I’m fine. Maybe I’m coming down with something, too.” I was, a bad case of the guilts. “I’ll talk to you soon.” And he kissed my cheek, lingering there for a moment.
“I’ll be here tonight, if you want to call. I would love the company.”
Nola and I drove home in silence, her asleep, me thinking. We stumbled across the parking lot from our assigned spot. I carried all our gear and Nola too, because I didn’t want to leave her to run the two flights back down from our apartment. “Can you hold the door?” I called to the man going into the building ahead of us.
He turned, scowling, and I saw that it was the laundry jerk, the guy who dumped out the loads onto the floor. He deliberately pulled the door closed when I was a few steps away and stood just inside the glass, smirking.
“Fuck you,” I mouthed at him and he turned red.
“Bitch!” he yelled back at me, and shook his fist as he backed up and left. I struggled to get out the keys and Nola started to cry that she was tired.
“I know, but we’re almost there,” I said, as I shoved the door with my hip and the handle scraped against me. But we made it up the stairs, with her crying and me panting and silently cursing my bum ankle and weak quads. After I dug out the thermometer and confirmed that she had a temperature, Nola took the cherry-flavored medicine I depended on for her fevers and settled down in front of some cartoons with a cup of broth.
I took a quick shower, then put on the t-shirt I had been wearing a lot to sleep in. I sat down too and she gravitated onto my lap. When kids were sick, they needed a lot of love. I remembered my siblings doing the same thing, wanting hugs and kisses and cuddling me when they didn’t feel good. I waited until Nola’s eyes closed, then I flipped the channel to watch William Holden and Kim Novak in technicolor Kansas.
At around the time that Nola would have gone to her apartment to hang for my night out, Eva knocked on the door to check on us. “Poor little thing,” she said. Nola had been up and down, eaten and drunk a little, and was currently crashed out in her bed. “Your note said you were going to visit with that man today, the two of you. And?”
“We did, at his parents’ house. Well, palace, I would call it. We swam in their gorgeous pool and Luca showed Nola how to kick better. And I met his mother! She’s beautiful and so…sophisticated, I guess. Just walking around her house, she wears nice clothes and jewelry and makeup.” I sighed. No one could tell by looking at my wardrobe, but I did love clothes.
“It was a full day!” Eva marveled.
“And Luca carried Nola out to the car when we left. She went right to him.” My eyes pooled again. I had to be coming down with something myself, because I had been close to tears all afternoon. “He’s so sweet to her.”
“Hm.”
“What does that mean?” I asked. I was waiting for her answer when someone pounded on the door.
“Jolie! This you?” a voice called through the metal. My mouth dropped.
I hurried to the door so he wouldn’t wake up Nola with his knocking, and swung it open to Ty. Ty? “What are you doing here?”
He stepped in through the doorway and into my living room, like it wasn’t at all unusual that he would show up to my apartment and walk right in. “I wanted to see you, JoJo. You and, uh, Nola.” He smiled at me, the same smile that had made me slide over my Spanish homework and slide down my bra straps. I took a step back. No, no, Jolie, hold it together.
“Hi,” he said, turning to Eva. “I’m Tyson Baker. JoJo’s…what would you call me, Jo?” He grinned. “I feel too old to be a boyfriend, there has to be a better word.” His grin widened and he winked at her, always the charmer. “But we’re not that old.”
“And you’re not my boyfriend, or however you want to say it,” I put in. “Ty is Nola’s father. I may have mentioned him,” I said to Eva.
“Oh? Oh, yes. The young man who ran off and left you pregnant with his child,” she said pointedly.
His grin faltered. “Uh, yeah. JoJo and I go way back.” Eva just stared at him and he turned to me. “I need to talk to you, babe. Alone.”
“Jolie, I’ll speak to you later. I have a load in the washer and I had better attend to it.” Eva got up slowly from the couch. The top of her head only reached about the level of Ty’s nipples, but she managed to make him look pretty small anyway, as she swept past him with a very scornful expression. “Tyson.”
I almost laughed. Here was one woman unaffected by his appeal. But I turned on him quickly when the door shut behind her. “What in the hell are you doing here?”
“I told you, I wanted to see you, to talk to you.” Ty settled himself down on my couch. “This is where you live?” He glanced around. “Small.”
My blood practically boiled out of my body. “As opposed to the palace where you are,” I said indignantly. Which made me think of Luca, in his real palace.
“This place isn’t so bad,” Ty comforted me. “You always made things feel homey. I could stay here for a few days,” he commented, and I was shaking my head no before he was able to finish the suggestion.
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“Nope. No, you can’t.”
He leaned forward, losing the smile. “I could use a place to lie low for a while.”
My heart kicked up. “Because of the money you owe? You want to hide here from the bookie?”
“Not a bookie. Some other guys.” He fidgeted with the zipper of his jeans. “Worse than a bookie.”
“Seriously? Worse than a bookie? What does that mean?”
“Where’s the little girl?” he asked suddenly, looking around.
“Your daughter, Nola, is asleep right now. She’s sick.”
He nodded, unconcerned about that point. “You have two bedrooms, right? Hers and ours?”
I shook my head. “No, Nola and I share. And we won’t be sharing with you. How much have you paid off, Ty? How much is left?”
He breathed out heavily. “I paid a couple hundred.”
“So a few thousand to go? Exactly how much?”
“A few thousand,” he repeated my words. His eyes shifted.
“I can’t give you any more,” I told him bluntly. He looked at me, kind of pleadingly, and I thought of the bike that I was going to buy for Nola, the money I needed to pay back Luca. “No. And you can’t stay here. I mean it. You have to leave.”
Ty stared at me like he was in shock, almost. “I didn’t know you had this side to you, JoJo. It’s like you’re heartless or something. What do you think I’m supposed to do?”
“Get a job? Ask your family to help you? Run? I don’t know. I have to worry about feeding our daughter, Ty, not about money you squandered on some game.”
“Ponies. I double popped a straight exacta with Rocinante on top of Rucio, because it was a lock,” he started to explain, but I didn’t want to hear it, the track lingo and the bullshit. I had already heard the same speech a thousand different ways, a thousand times before, every time he had lost money. It wasn’t his fault, he bet a bad beat, the team should have covered…
“Whatever.” I shook my head. “I don’t care.” But I did, in spite of myself. Fuck! Why did I still care? “What are you going to do?” I asked, before I could stop myself.
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