by Mia Castile
“It’s broken,” I said, handing it back to her.
“I’l get it fixed. Would you wear it?” I looked at it again. I thought I would; it was an expensive watch. The name David Yurman was in smal type across the face. I knew it had to cost a few thousand dol ars. I couldn’t believe that Alex didn’t want it. He looked at it again.
“Mom bought it for Mitchel as a birthday present last year. It should work.” He took it and pushed the pin on the side and it started ticking. She took it back and put it on my wrist. It was a little loose. She frowned, “I’l stil take it to the jewelry store and get it taken up.” Scrutinizing it, she noted, “Two links.” Then she smiled at me. “Don’t say I never gave you anything,” she said with a wink. I hugged her around the waist and pul ed her down on his bed. She giggled, and Alex breathed loudly, annoyed. We sat up and continued going through boxes.
I thought it was therapeutic for them, and I real y got to know them both more. They bantered back and forth and talked about their memories with their mother. Final y, the evening came to an end, and it was time to go. Gia walked me downstairs and onto the front porch where we said goodnight. When we kissed, it was the sweetest kiss I’d known.
Chapter 20
Remove the Rose-Colored Glasses, See the World in Living Color
Gianna
I think that I was the happiest I had ever been over the course of the next few weeks. I had good friends, and I had Travis. I stil missed my mom, but the pain of the loss wasn’t quite as piercing as it had been. It almost felt as if the pain were dul ing. Only three months had passed, and though I missed her daily, I felt better. I didn’t feel as guilty for finding a little happiness during my mourning. I was also relieved because neither Jil ian nor Chiz were bothering us. In fact, it seemed that they had become the new “it” couple and were seen al over school in various stages of a continuing make-out session.
After practice one Thursday evening, Alex came in with Travis, bouncing off the wal s.
“We sold the car! Brandon’s dad wants to buy it tonight. Where’s Oliver?” Alex bounced past me into the dining room then the living room, looking around.
“He said he had a meeting and then was closing the pub tonight,” I said. I was surprised that Oliver’s and my relationship had softened a little since Mitchel ‘s visit. I had refused to drive the new car, and final y Alex put a for sale sign in it. I didn’t want anything from Mitchel . I liked the fact that my boyfriend was wearing a watch that cost almost five thousand dol ars, and that Mitchel had probably absentmindedly put it into the box of jewelry.
Oliver had refused to let us donate any of our mother’s stuff, especial y her jewelry. He told us we would regret it when we were older, and it was better to give it to someone important to us in the future than just to let anyone have it. I’d seen his point, eventual y.
“Oliver has to sign over the title. You wanna go try to catch him before his meeting starts? I think it starts at six-thirty.” He looked at the clock on the microwave.
“Yeah, I guess we can,” I said, and looked at Travis. “Do you want to come with?” He hugged me close to him and kissed the top of my head.
“I think this is a family matter. Besides my mom has been missing me. She wanted me to insist that tomorrow dinner is at my house. She and Hailey keep asking when they get to see you again.” I nodded, and he squeezed me again and was out the back door. Alex and I fol owed shortly after he grabbed a sports drink from the refrigerator.
We headed toward downtown where our father was at his Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. We arrived, and there were stil some people standing outside on the stone stoop and stairs, smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee as they talked to each other. Alex smiled at me encouragingly. We entered the old church. We fol owed the signs to the basement. There along the back of the wal was a table that had stale-looking cookies and coffee machines. There was a woman standing at a microphone at the podium in the front of the group. She was talking about the turning point in her life: living in her car, having her children taken away from her and the despair she felt. I looked at Alex apprehensively. He led me over to the corner to two chairs in the back of the room. We sat down and scanned the room. Oliver sat in the middle of a row toward the front. There was no way to get his attention without disrupting the meeting. There had to have been over one hundred people here. The lady finished and took her seat.
A man who wore a brown tweed suit jacket stepped up to the podium. He thanked her and surveyed the crowd for a moment. Then he simply said,
“Oliver, why don’t you share your story with us.” I took a deep breath, and Alex squeezed my knee. Then we both looked down at our hands. Oliver stood and sidestepped out to the middle aisle. He walked down the center of the room to the podium where he stood in front of the gathering and surveyed the room. I didn’t think his eyes reached us though. He didn’t look past the first few rows of people in both aisles.
He began, “Hel o, I’m Oliver, and I’m an alcoholic.”
“Hi, Oliver,” the crowd said in unison.
“I met my wife after I graduated from high school. I had gone to Atlanta to work for my uncle. My parents emigrated from Italy when I was a tot, four or five. I was taught to work hard and be very disciplined. I worked for my uncle’s landscaping company. He did the landscaping for a few of the schools. She was in summer school. I remember her looking at me from the window when I worked there. I liked her, and after a few weeks I had the nerve to wait around after her class let out and talk to her. She was intoxicating. Her wil was strong, her opinions dominant, and she loved as purely and deeply as one could ever hope to find. We corresponded while she finished high school, and I moved back here working odds-and-ends jobs.
When she graduated, we were married a month later. I’d like to say it was a happy ending, but it wasn’t.
After a few years of marriage and the struggle of the day to day, we had our first child, a little boy, and he was a fighter, too. Oh, the spirit on that one; he had her strong wil . I bought a house and a business, a bar. A year and a half later, we had my beautiful daughter. She was so delicate and gentle. I felt like the world was right, and everything had a purpose. The bar was a success, and I began to celebrate with my employees a few nights a week. I didn’t see the harm in that. My Anna, though, she was fit to be tied. She would wait up for me, and we would argue, yel ing back and forth at each other into the afternoons some days. On those days, I began to drink more. I didn’t see what the big deal was; we were making money and she and my babies were taken care of.
It got to the point that I was drinking every night, coming home drunk and drinking during the day. A lot of those days were a blur.” He paused and looked down at the podium like it would tel him what to say. He spoke softly now, the microphone barely picking up his voice, but it did. I heard every part of the next thing he said. “I remember the first day I lost my temper. Anna was so strong-wil ed, and she refused to be empathetic to my desires. She kept tel ing me that I had a drinking problem, and I denied it.
I guess what set me off was when she said she was going to go to her father’s with the children. For some reason I lost it. I slapped her across her face. She screamed, and I immediately felt horrible and tried to hold her. I cried probably harder than she did and swore I wouldn’t do it again. And I didn’t for a while, but then we began arguing again, and I did it again.” He paused a moment and swal owed hard. “I didn’t stop drinking, and I didn’t stop hitting her. I don’t even remember some of the things that would set me off. It got to the point that even on good days, I came home and hit her. I was spiraling out of control. I was always drunk. She was broken, and I was the monster who broke her.
After four years of that, she had enough. She filed charges against me and got a restraining order. She left and took the children with her. At first, I was furious with her and contemplated hunting her down and kil ing her because if she wasn’t going to be with me, then she wasn’t going to be. That was the
lowest point in my life. I am ashamed that I even thought such a horrible thing. But I began to wonder how I became such a wretched person.
I stopped drinking the night they left. I turned myself in. I pleaded guilty with no contest and was given three years in prison.” I vaguely remembered my mom leaving for a few days after we arrived in Atlanta. I wondered if she had returned to deal with his charges. Neither one of them had ever told us about this. He continued, “I entered a rehab program in prison and continued it after I was released. It was the least that I could have done.
Anna kept track of my progress and would send me pictures of my children. She even asked me to visit, but I didn’t want to upset them; they had seen enough of me. I thought it was over; I was living my life one sober day at a time, but then Anna passed away, and now I have my children again. It has been real y frustrating for me, and for the first time in a long time, it has been a struggle for me not to drink.” He paused and looked at the faces in the crowd. “Not because of what you probably think. It has been hard because in those children’s eyes, I am stil the man I was then.
They are waiting for me to become angry and hit them. I see it, and it makes me want to escape their horror and their bitterness. They are two of the most amazingly strong young people I have ever known. They are that way because Anna’s escaping me taught them that they are worth more than that. It’s a struggle every day to get up, knowing that I had nothing to do with them being so strong, and knowing that they stil despise me. I deserve it, but it doesn’t make it less painful.”
“Anna was the only woman I ever loved, and she is real y gone. I was able to accept her being gone because I knew she was taking care of herself and our children. But now she’s gone, and I never got to tel her goodbye. I don’t think I would have gone to her, but I would have at least cal ed her and said something. I don’t know what I would have said, but if I’d have known the last time I heard her voice was the last time, I’d have made more of it.” He looked at the man sitting behind him and walked back to his seat. He was also broken. I realized he did love us as much as he could, and maybe I could give him another chance. The alcohol had made him a monster, and our leaving had not only saved us, but had saved him. I didn’t even know he went to prison. There were things that my mother kept from us, I suddenly realized. The man in the tweed jacket encouraged Oliver to continue his sobriety and told him he was very proud of him. He also said he knew how far he had come and how hard it was for him to admit that he had a problem and work to quit it. We al applauded. Alex applauded and actual y stood, causing some around him to stand. Oliver looked around embarrassed, but then he turned to the back corner where some people stood, and his eyes rested on his son, who now was smiling at him.
He looked at me, and I nodded toward him, acknowledging him. He stood and began to come our way. The man in the tweed jacket ignored him and continued speaking. We left our seats and met him by the back door. Alex looked at him, appraising him for a moment, and then he reached out and hugged him. He hugged him so tightly, and they patted each other on their backs. Then he said, barely above a whisper, “I’m sorry, Dad. I love you.” Oliver actual y coughed, or it might have been the start of crying because he said in return, “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry, and I do love you, both of you.” I squeezed into the hug. I wasn’t ready to say the words, but I was ready to begin to forgive him. I at least owed him that much. If I had so easily given Mitchel a second chance after he had yel ed at me, I could begin to forgive Oliver, if he had real y changed his ways. It seemed as if he had. This time I could do something if he did choose to give in to his addictions again. We wouldn’t let it escalate to the point that he was putting his hands on us. Maybe giving our forgiveness would give him the strength he needed to resist.
We left and met up with Brandon’s father, who paid a nice retail price for our car and made our way home. It was getting late, and we had school and a game the next day. We went through the drive-through and ate dinner on the couch, watching prime time television together as a family.
The footbal team had another pep ral y, and we al welcomed the chance to escape class. Abby and I sat toward the middle of the bleachers, and once the team was announced, several players found spots in the stands, including Alex, Mason, and Travis with us. I could tel he was nervous, and I let him pul me closer to him than I would have normal y al owed for such a public place. His tension eased a little when that happened.
Later, I joined Travis and his family for dinner. I helped Melanie by tossing the salad while Travis and Hailey set the table. We had a nice dinner conversation, and Travis and I found ourselves in his room after the dishes were cleaned up. This was becoming normal. We always ended up in a bedroom with a closed door, especial y lately. We always ended up kissing as our hands touched each other, over clothes, under clothes. We knew almost every inch of each other’s skin.
“I want you so bad,” he breathed in my ear.
I simply nodded. “So bad,” he said again, as he moved his lips over my neck, his breath the only thing that touched me. It sent a wave of chil s through me, and instinctively I arched my back, pressing myself into him.
“I do too, but,” I paused and looked at the ceiling past him as he lifted up and hovered over me. I bit my lower lip and looked back into his eyes. I couldn’t finish the statement.
“I understand.” He leaned his forehead against mine. He took a deep breath and rol ed over beside me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I stil looked at the ceiling.
“No, don’t be sorry. It’s OK; we’l wait til when you’re ready. But just so you know, I love you.” He climbed back on top of me and held my face in his hands. “And I want you, too.” He kissed me again, and we tangled ourselves into each other again.
The game was a close one and a tough loss because we could tel that the boys put everything that they had into it. Afterward, we went to a diner for a late snack as did most of the school. We grabbed a table on the patio that overlooked the beach. The five of us were joined by Gloria. I could tel that she was way more into Alex than he was into her. She hung on his every word, but he barely acknowledged her. We talked about the game and weekend plans. We were laughing at something Mason had said when Chiz sauntered over, his arm draped around Jil ian’s neck. He looked only at Alex as he addressed the table.
“My parents are going out of town for a week. Sunday we are having a gathering. Everyone is invited. You guys should come.” We al looked at each other.
“Chiz, Sunday is a school night. You think that’s such a good idea?” Mason asked.
“Wel , I’m going to be busy tomorrow night.” He winked at Jil ian. She smiled. “What does it matter? Next week is a short week because of fal break.” He walked off, Jil ian in tow. I shrugged at Travis. He smirked at me.
“I’l be washing my hair.” Abby gave her usual response.
“I’l probably be helping you,” Mason added, nudging her.
“It would be fun; Chiz throws amazing parties,” Gloria interjected.
“We’l see,” Alex said, as he put his arm around the back of her chair. She seemed to like that answer and tried to snuggle closer to him. I gave him a wary look, and he shrugged.
We went our own ways. Travis and I walked along the surf. The water was starting to get colder, especial y in the evenings. Though I rol ed up my jeans, they stil got a little wet. When we were in the dark, away from the boardwalk lights, he stopped walking and turned to me, taking both of my hands in his. I smiled up at him. We stood there silently for a few minutes. Then he leaned down and kissed me. He was so gentle in his touch I wanted to hold him close to me. I crushed myself to him, and our feet sank in the sand as the waves rushed over them and took it out from underneath us, only to come rushing over us again. I giggled, and he hugged me to him.
“You drive me crazy,” he said, stil holding me close to him.
“We’l be crazy together.” I smiled into his chest.
“I’l save you a seat then.” He laughed and kissed me again. Since we had reunited, it seemed as though our pul to each other was stronger than anything I had ever felt before. I didn’t know that I could feel this way about anyone. My heart actual y ached to be near him. It almost didn’t feel natural. I wanted him with me always. I dreamed of him and waited for his letters in the mornings. I was beginning to feel a little addicted to him. I thought I might even understand what Oliver meant when he said my mother was intoxicating. If he felt anything like what I was beginning to feel about Travis, I didn’t know how he was able to be away from her for a whole year. Travis kissed me again before we made our way back to the car.
I felt on top of the world, but also as if I were on display on top of the world. No one watched us. I looked around, but I suddenly felt like we weren’t alone on the beach and we were stil being watched. He didn’t seem to notice. He took me home and we sat on the porch for a little while, not wanting the evening to end.
“When I was a kid…” He leaned back on his elbows. “I used to play this game with my dad, that I was no good at, Othello. He didn’t go easy on me either; I’d lose nine games and then he’d let me win one to keep me interested in it. We would play for hours. Then one day just before he left, I beat him like, five games in row. I used to think that he left because I final y beat him. Then I realized he let me win to make me feel good about myself.” I leaned on my side and watched him staring at the few stars that we could see over us. “Sil y, for me to get so upset when I realized that, but I did.
For a long time I thought that was the reason I was so mad at him, but it wasn’t. It was because he left my mom when she was pregnant and needed him the most. It was because I was the first one in my class who didn’t have a dad around, even on the weekends.” He shrugged. “I don’t know why I just told you that, but I wanted to. He cal ed us the other day. He wants to see Hailey and me this weekend. I don’t want to go, but my mom is taking Hailey. They are going to be staying overnight. I’m gonna be a bachelor for the night, have the whole place to myself.” He looked over at me with a mischievous look on his face. It made me nervous suddenly. I sat forward and leaned my elbows on my knees and looked at him warily.