by Libby Klein
I burst into tears. “I want to go home.”
“Oh Bella, no. Do not cry.” Gia’s face twisted in pain.
“I can’t do this anymore. Your mother hates me. Your sisters will never accept me. Your brother-in-law threatened me to leave you alone. I love you, but when I’m with you I feel like the other woman sneaking around, and that’s not who I want to be. I’m sorry, but I’m done.”
Gia touched his forehead to mine. “Please. Do not give up on me. It does not matter to me what my family thinks. I love you. I only care what you think. You are my family now. You and Henry.” He pulled me to him and stroked my hair. “What do you mean, Angelo threatened you?”
I told Gia about the conversation at the Expo. His voice was light, but his eyes darkened nearly to black. “Do not pay attention to Angelo. Teresa has filled his head with nonsense. He thinks he is the Godfather. He’s not even Italian. Their last name is Stankiewicz.”
I pulled away to look Gia in the face. “Really?”
“Sì. He’s been doing that Mafia act ever since the wedding. I think he is touched in the head. He works on the computers for a living.” Gia tsked and shook his head.
I wiped my eyes. “What about you?”
Gia ran his thumb along my jaw. “What about me?”
“He said you were doing a job for the Scarduzio family.”
Gia took my hand and we started walking slowly around the block. “Not a job. An errand.”
“Is there a difference?”
“In this case, yes.”
“What was it about?”
“I cannot tell you yet. Can you trust me a little longer?”
Out here I felt like I could trust him forever. It was once we got back in the house that I doubted myself. “Okay. What was with the stack of money I saw you hand over to that thug this morning? Was that a payoff?”
Gia’s lips twitched into a crooked grin, but his smile was lacking its usual mirth. The day had been painful for both of us. “That thug was Father Seamus, and the payoff was a donation for new soccer uniforms. La Dolce Vita is sponsoring the Seahorses this year.”
“Oh.” I started crying again. I was messing everything up. I was so ashamed that I’d doubted him. Either he was the most patient man in the world and I was a fool or he was a complete sociopath. After meeting his family, I wasn’t sure.
He pulled me closer. “I know this has been very hard on you. But please trust me. I won’t do anything to hurt you.”
We got back around to Oliva’s house and stood there, silently regretting that we had to go inside.
Alex poked her head out the door and frowned. She marched down the steps and stood toe-to-toe with Gia. “We are still married and I won’t have you out with another woman, cheating on me.” Her words were much louder than they needed to be. I glanced at the house and saw a dozen faces pressed up against the screens. Some of the neighbors came out to water their rain-soaked lawns. “You abandoned me and took my child from me. Now I’m offering you forgiveness and the chance to start over and you throw her in my face!” Alex ran back into the house sobbing.
I was horrified. I felt dirty.
Gia’s lips flattened. He rubbed a spot on his chin. “If you want to go home, I will take you.”
Henry flew out the door and grabbed me around the legs. “Poppy! You’re back!”
Break off another little piece of my heart. “I’ll stay for Henry.”
We went inside and caught everyone in full scatter mode. They tried really hard to land in the right spots, but Stefania missed the chair completely and landed on the floor.
Momma called everyone through the kitchen to the backyard, where she had a long table set up in the garden next to the detached, two-story garage. She told everyone where to sit, and when at last she came to me, she had run out of chairs. She said something to Alex, who got up and handed me a plate and a fork. “There is a child table up on the deck where you can sit.”
Gia sprang to his feet and the words were flying. All thirteen of them yelling in Italian at once. The only ones not involved were Aunt Ginny, Henry, and me.
Aunt Ginny had her elbows on the table, her chin resting on her folded hands. She looked at me and shook her head. “And people want to lock me up.”
Henry got his plate and came over to me. He put his hand in mine. “I like the deck.”
Alex reached across the table and picked up a bottle of expensive olive oil. “Basta!” She slammed the oil down with a thud, and they all sat. “Some of you are not part of the family. And you know who you are. You don’t belong here.” She gave me a withering glare.
I let Henry lead me to the deck, where we sat at a little white table with two chairs, talking in our own little world. We didn’t have any food, but we had each other.
“And Mateo, that’s my cousin, he found this pink egg with jellybeans in it. And Lorenzo, he’s my cousin, he found a yellow one stuck inside the garage door where Zia Karla lives.” Henry giggled hard. “And it broke in half and Christina, she’s my cousin, she said chicken poops came out.”
He was laughing so hard that I started laughing with him.
“And Mateo, he’s my cousin, said the Easter chicken pooped in the egg.”
This was the funniest story in the world to him, and it was the best thing I’d heard all day.
A shadow crossed over us and we squinted over my shoulder to see what it was. Gia had brought two plates of salad and some tortellini for Henry. He sat on the deck next to our little table. “Everything has gluten in it. Even the meat. What are you two laughing about?”
Henry and I started giggling again. “Apparently, chicken poop.”
Henry fell off his chair and rolled backward laughing.
I didn’t touch my salad. My appetite was long gone. The minute they were done with dessert, I found Aunt Ginny at the adult table and gave her the sign. Gia went to say something to his family while Karla retrieved our coat and sweater, and I kissed Henry goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, sweet boy.”
Angelo approached me, rubbing a rising welt on his jaw that was red and angry. “Giampaolo and I had a little talk. He said you are having problems with your Wi-Fi. I would like to come and fix it for you free of charge to make up for any unintentional threatening I may have done yesterday.”
I gave a nod. “I’ll let you know.”
Gia was in a heated discussion with his mother and Alex. It wasn’t going well. Zio Alfio slinked across the yard to me, like he thought he was being furtive. “I am sorry for my sister. She is no good with the change. She come to America when Karla was only baby. Giampaolo was the teenager. He love you very much. He tell me you might believe Alex. So, I show you.” He took a folded document from his breast pocket and opened it for me. It was a separation agreement with intent to divorce. The reason for divorce was listed as abandonment by Alexandra Scarduzio, and Gia had signed it. I nodded at Zio Alfio.
“No, no. See.” He pointed to the date and notary signature.
It had been notarized in Philly two months after Henry was born. My lip started to tremble and I bit down to keep it still.
“She is no good, but we can no find her. . . .” Zio Alfio shrugged, the apology in his eyes crossing the language barrier.
The family gathered in the living room, ready to send us off. Gia helped Aunt Ginny on with her coat. His eyes pleading with me to trust him.
Momma said something to Aunt Ginny in Italian and Teresa translated. “Momma say thank you for coming today. She sorry for any unpleasantness and she hope to see you again.”
Aunt Ginny was very smooth. She gave Oliva a polite smile. “I seriously doubt that. After today you won’t have to worry about us. After the deplorable way she’s been treated Poppy won’t ever want to come here again. So, all of her, and Gia, and Henry’s holidays and family events will be with me. I should thank you. You may have pushed away a daughter, but I got your son.” Aunt Ginny reached up and patted Gia affectionately on the cheek. He winked at her.<
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Momma’s eyebrows knit and her face clouded in darkness before Teresa had a chance to translate.
Aunt Ginny smiled as she fixed her top button. “Good. You do understand. Now we’re all on the same page.” She turned and walked out the front door.
Zio Alfio squeezed my hand. “Do not worry. It will all be over soon. Giampaolo, he fix it.”
I squeezed his hand back and followed after the Queen of Awesome.
CHAPTER 42
I took Aunt Ginny home so we could change and head to the Expo. I had to check on our booth, and she wanted to redeem her free treatment she’d won in the raffle. I told her there was no way I wanted her putting on one of those death masks even it if was possible. “Dr. Rubin died by his own creation. There’s no telling what could be wrong with them.”
“If it starts melting my face, I’ll just take it off. I won this fair and square”
Well, that remains to be seen. While I waited for Aunt Ginny to get her “spa duds” on, I called Amber to check in. I needed to tell her about Kieran Dunne answering that burner phone. She didn’t answer her cell, so I called the police station to see if she’d been released yet. No one would give me any information, so I was stuck waiting for her to reach out to me.
Aunt Ginny emerged from her bedroom in a hot-pink velour tracksuit. “Come on, I’m not getting any younger.”
Sierra texted me that she was running low on food, so we got in the car and drove to La Dolce Vita to pick up a few extra containers of brownies and chocolate-dipped shortbread, then on to Convention Hall. We had miraculous timing and showed up just as someone was pulling away from their parking spot out front. That would be my only moment of good luck all day.
Aunt Ginny split from me at the Kefir Everything booth. “When you see me next I’ll look ten years younger.”
“We could be sisters.” I may as well save my words. Aunt Ginny would not be dissuaded from possible face melting if something free was on the line.
I checked on the Kefir lady, who no longer looked like a cartoon character. “Are you feeling better? How long did it take for the blue to wear off?”
“It hasn’t yet. You can’t see it under these lights, but you put me in the closet and I glow in the dark. I complained to that Shayla Rose and she wouldn’t do a thing for me. She said it was my own fault and I must have kept the container in direct sunlight. But I didn’t. It hasn’t been out of my bathroom this whole time. I have half a mind to sue her for emotional distress.”
“I’m sure it fades over time.” Although if the prints outside the warehouse were any indication, she had at least a few more days before she’d fade.
“It can’t happen soon enough. My husband wants me to wear a blond wig and a white dress to fulfill some Smurfette fantasy. I won’t do it.”
A little old lady with a pinched face had chosen that unfortunate moment to pick out a kefir salad dressing. “Gracious.”
I backed away awkwardly while she apologized and left them to check on Sierra.
“Oh, thank God you’re here. It’s been nonstop since we opened.”
I could tell from the disarray that she’d been busy. I restocked the pastry case, cleaned up the espresso machine, and refilled the cream and sugar station. When Sierra returned from her break I spotted Tim standing alone in the Paleo Diva booth. I wouldn’t be at peace until I asked him why he’d ransacked my station, and with Gigi out of the way, now was a better time than any. Channeling my inner Aunt Ginny for courage, I marched over there and smacked the CIA button down on his counter. “Care to explain this?”
He shrugged. “What is that?”
“It’s a button off a CIA chef coat. Is it yours or Gigi’s?”
He ran his hand down his coat. “It’s not mine. How did you get it?”
“I found it on the floor of my booth Friday morning after someone defaced it.” I pointed to the banner that still had remnants of Paleo Fraud written across it.
Tim narrowed his eyes. “You think I did that?”
“You tell me. How else did a Culinary Institute of America button show up under my counter with a hailstorm of sugar packets?”
Gigi appeared and practically dropped her sample tray to leap behind the counter next to Tim, like she was afraid I was there to drag him away. “What’s going on, honey?”
Tim didn’t take his eyes off me. “Geeg, did you vandalize Poppy’s boyfriend’s booth?”
Gigi looked over at Sierra. “No. I just assumed it was an unhappy customer.”
I scanned the buttons on Gigi’s coat. They were all there, but this was a new day. I should have confronted them Friday, when it happened, instead of being distracted with Dr. Rubin’s death and possibly being set up as Amber’s scapegoat. I really did have a lot going on.
Tim nudged the button toward me. “It wasn’t us. The fact that you think I would do something like that shows that you don’t know me at all. Hurting people is your thing.”
Gigi’s eyebrows raised, but she said nothing. She took a fresh tray of samples from under her counter and refilled her olive oil.
Tim leaned against his counter. “Please go.”
I snatched up the button and tried to get back some of my dignity with it. I retreated to my own booth and disappeared into the coffee beans.
Sierra was cleaning the frothing wand when I returned. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to cry.”
“If your high-school best friend ever asks you to go to a reunion with her, do yourself a favor and just say no.”
Sierra patted me on the back. “Okay.”
Eloise’s assistant, Kevin, appeared at the counter. “Ma’am. We could use your assistance at the Rubinesque tent.”
I sighed, pretty sure that I knew what kind of assistance they’d be looking for. “I’ll be right there.”
I bagged some Paleo brownies to take with me.
“What is that for?”
“A peace offering.”
I entered the tent in the middle of a tirade.
“The raffle rules don’t say the prize is invalid if someone murders the doctor.”
Tally held up her hands. “Do they have to? And he wasn’t murdered, it was accidental.”
“Poppycock. And I don’t believe for one minute that you believe that either.”
“Well, the coroner hasn’t ruled on his death yet, so as far as we’re concerned it wasn’t murder.”
“Then there’s no reason I can’t have my free treatment.”
I held up the bakery bag. “I brought you some brownies. Aunt Ginny, a minute, please?”
Tally let out a deep sigh and her shoulders dropped below her ears. Word had gotten out that one of the raffle winners was demanding their prize and a crowd had formed in the tent to jump on the bandwagon. She took Aunt Ginny by the back of the arm and nudged her toward Dr. Rubin’s private office. “Why don’t you ladies wait for me in here and I’ll join you momentarily? We can get all this worked out in private.”
Aunt Ginny and I were ushered into the office and Tally swung the hanging door shut. Aunt Ginny jerked her thumb toward the rippling canvas. “Like that’s doing anything.”
“Aunt Ginny, I think it may be insensitive for you to demand a free treatment when the doctor is dead.”
Aunt Ginny poked through the papers on Dr. Rubin’s desk. “Yeah, but you won’t get anything if you don’t make a fuss. I didn’t kill him. The least they can do is give me some complimentary moisturizer. I’ll take anything from this Phoenix Protocol.”
“What did you just say?”
Aunt Ginny held up a slick display ad showing a fiery orange bird rising from the ashes on a lady’s face. “The Phoenix Protocol.”
I took the glossy photo she handed me. “Rubinesque announces their new spa line of rejuvenating skin-care solutions. Bring your skin back to life.” The word “proof” was faintly printed in diagonal across the photo. Someone had written on the back, run on all outlets starting May 2015. That was next month.
Aunt Ginny held up a contract. “It looks like I’m in luck. Tally’s listed as the Phoenix Protocol CEO. That means she has the authority to hand out free samples.”
“I don’t know if that’s true, Aunt Ginny. That says it’s a transfer of ownership contract and Dr. Rubin didn’t sign it.”
Aunt Ginny frowned. “Well, it’s too late now.”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
That’s the downside to a hanging door. There’s no sound when someone opens it and catches you going through their desk.
I held up the ad. “We were just admiring the new product line.”
Aunt Ginny pointed to the page. “I’ll take a free wrinkle-erase cream if you can’t fit me in for a treatment.”
Tally sputtered and took the ad from me. “That . . . you shouldn’t . . . That’s top secret. It’s not out yet. And I told you, I can’t give you a treatment until we know the masks are safe. I could lose my license.”
Aunt Ginny took out a pack of green gummy bears and ripped the corner off.
I felt my blood pressure rise a couple of notches. “When did you get more of those?”
“While you were talking to the yogurt lady.” She popped one in her mouth and looked at Tally. “I’ll be back. And I’m bringing reinforcements.”
I knew who those reinforcements were. Aunt Ginny would own the whole practice by the time she was finished. I wanted to warn Tally, but a ruckus on the other side of the door drew us out.
Agnes Pfeister-Pinze was being detained by security again, and she was not going quietly. As they were dragging her through the tent opening, she arched her back and yelled, “Find Shayla Rose. She would do anything to keep news about her antiaging concentrate from getting out. She knows more than she’s telling.”
CHAPTER 43
Convention security dragged Agnes through the hall kicking and screaming and creating more disruption than if they’d just left her alone. She might be crazy, but she knew exactly what she was doing. Every eye was following her ejection. “Rubinesque Cosmetic Surgery is a sham! Lance Rubin never left the United States and he never worked with Doctors Without Borders. Check his passport! He’s a fraud!”