by Lyz Kelley
“You just never know about people.”
She disliked the skepticism in his voice. “They were good to Tony and me after my parents died. The Mark I knew was different. Something in L.A. changed him.”
“Probably drugs.”
“Probably.” Obviously, a good-paying job and marriage had been way too much responsibility for Mark.
After the accident, she’d been barely conscious, bandaged from head to toe, with tubes coming out of every limb and the pain meter fluctuating between a seven and nine—a nine only because she didn’t want to admit what a ten felt like—when Mark entered her hospital room.
She’d grabbed onto the dear sound of his voice like a lifeline for a fraction of a second that then bled away when he told her about the L.A. job. He stayed a generous fifteen minutes to ask her to give him back the engagement ring, and loan him her apartment key so he could get his favorite hoodie. At least she hadn’t married him before discovering his inability to handle sickness. Which, she realized later, also meant it was highly unlikely that he’d be able to stick around through health, either.
Joey placed a thick china plate into her hands. The hand on her back pressed in, inviting her to move forward. “Would you like some salad?”
“Yes, please.” The turmoil growing in her stomach intensified. “I know you and your family want Mark to be the killer, but in my heart—”
“Yes, I know. I provided Ernie with the information you gave me. It will be up to him to follow up.” Her plate suddenly became heavier. “Blue cheese? Balsamic? Or Italian?”
“Balsamic.” Thoughts whirled around and around in her head, dissecting the intent of his reaction. But his apparent indifference, or at least lack of interest, didn’t sit well. “So, you’re washing your hands of the investigation?”
“I didn’t say that. Fettuccine Alfredo? Chicken parmesan? Penne Bolognese? Or lasagna?”
“Fettuccine. Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I still have no jurisdiction here. I’m lucky the authorities let me do as much investigating as they did. The sheriff’s office needs to handle this.”
“I see.” She wrestled to find patience because his reasons sounded more like excuses.
“Look. I came home to bury my brother. That’s all. Like I said I’m too close to this one. I can’t be impartial. Besides, nothing I ever do is going to satisfy my parents. I did the best I could.”
A marble of guilt stuck midway down her windpipe. Not able to quite breathe or swallow, she gripped her plate harder and reached for Joey’s sleeve. “You did a lot for us. I’m being insensitive. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I—”
“Mara, it’s fine. Really. Your water is already at the table. Let’s enjoy the meal my mom worked so hard to cook.” The irritation in his voice heaped on an additional shovel of guilt.
“It sure does smell good,” she responded, hoping to turn the conversation toward a benign topic.
A warm hand again touched the small of her back. “Turn ninety degrees left. Your seat is to the right.”
She took a tentative step forward, then another, following his lead, homing in on the subtle shifts of his fingers directing her left or right. A dozen or so steps later, he touched her arm. Chair legs scraped across the floor, and her plate disappeared from her hands.
“Would you mind describing where the bathrooms are so I can wash my hands?” she asked while extending her walking stick.
“They’re just behind you. Turn right down the hall fifteen feet, and the bathrooms are the second door on the left.”
“Great. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She stepped and tapped, stepped and tapped, feeling her way down the hall to the second entrance. Entering, she found her way to the third of three stalls. In the process of locking the stall door, she heard the bathroom door open.
“Come on, hook me up on a date with your brother. He is so yummy,” a female voice whined while sensually expanding yummy into a word twelve inches long.
“Eewwwww. He’s an idiot. Why would you want a date with him?”
Mara recognized Anna Gaccione’s voice. Joey’s little sister drew out her vowels in a similar manner.
“You’re just eew-ing because he’s your brother. Take a good look, sister-girl. Your brother is hot. I’d let him strip search me in a heart-pumping minute.”
“Did you see him with that Dijocomo girl? How pathetic.” Anna’s disdain topped the snark charts. “Maybe he feels sorry for her since her dad’s bank account was wiped out. But who does she think she is, coming in here with her arm wrapped around my brother like she’s some model hanging off the arm of a billionaire? She deserves to be put in her place.”
Deciding she didn’t need to go to the bathroom after all, Mara opened the stall door. She would have given anything to be able to see. Given anything to stop the women’s opinions from hurting.
She extended her stick. “You’re wrong, Anna. I know my place. I also know no one should have to bury half their family. And no one should have to listen to scorn from those who have more, or less. And yes, the cost to pin my body together was extremely high, but you know what? I’m going to be fine. You know why I know that? Because I don’t need to prove anything to you or anyone else in this town.” She took a step toward the door and then turned back. “And tell your friend if she wants Joey, she better hurry and put on her big-girl panties and act fast because he’s leaving tomorrow. She doesn’t need to use you to get to your brother.”
Mara opened the door with such force the heavy metal handle bounced off the back wall.
Home. I need to get home.
The cruelty of Anna’s words, the pain of hearing them—how pathetic!—reverberated in her mind, making it hard to breathe.
No. No, I’m not pathetic. Just blind. Not pathetic.
She retraced her steps past the kitchen to the main dining room, then stumbled through people, chairs and tables, working through the complex maze to find the front door. She didn’t apologize for stepping on toes or bumping into bodies. She couldn’t. Her pride wouldn’t let her. The remaining shreds of her dignity wouldn’t allow her to give in.
I’m not pathetic. I’m not.
Exiting the restaurant, she turned right, knowing her store was just four blocks down the street, somewhere. The temperature had dropped, but she wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t return for her coat. She wouldn’t go back. Only forward. Just one step at a time.
Forward. Only forward.
Keep going. One step. That’s it.
Footsteps raced behind her, forcing her to concentrate on the ground beneath her feet, and the vibration and sound when she tapped her pole.
Step, tap. Step, tap. Step, tap.
“Mara? Stop. Where are you going?” Joey’s concern blasted through the hurt.
“Home.” She took a step but found her way blocked. Please, let me go. She moved left, then right, fighting for every inch of ground. “Please, I need to get home.”
The vulnerability in her voice made her cringe. She rejected the frail emotion. Those women couldn’t win. She pushed forward again with more determination.
“Mara. Please.” A jacket warmed by body heat surrounded her shoulders. “What happened in that bathroom?”
His plea drained the fight from her like water draining from a bathtub.
“Joey. Don’t you get it? You keep treating me like I haven’t changed. But I have. My family’s money is gone. Medical bills, burial costs, paying off Tony’s and my college loans. It’s all gone. The only things we have left are the flower shop and the two-bedroom house Tony purchased with the proceeds from our parents’ home. Everyone in Elkridge knows I’m not the person I used to be but you. I’m blind. I’m not pathetic. And I don’t need anyone to tell me what I’ve lost. I have to live with my parents’ death and disability every day.”
“No one said you were pathetic.”
Your sister did. “Go back to your family. Celebrate tonight. You’re leaving
tomorrow.”
“Mara, don’t go. Not like this.”
“Let me go, Joey. Live the best life you can.” She took a step around him, stopped and turned. “Joey. I know you believe people thought more highly of Sam than you. But it’s not true. You’re an amazing man. Find what makes you happy, because that’s what I’m going to do.”
It took everything she had to lift her chin, push her shoulders back, and pretend life hadn’t just taken another slice out of her soul.
She wouldn’t cry. No, she wouldn’t.
At least not until she’d found her apartment, and spent the rest of the night trying to convince herself that she hadn’t just lost the one chance she had to be happy with someone who accepted her for who, not what she was.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Joey watched Mara struggle, his heart wrenching every time she stumbled, came dangerously close to the edge of the walkway or reached out a hand to study and negotiate an obstacle. He followed her until she was safely home, but at enough of a distance that she was unaware of his presence.
He’d done this to her.
He’d brought her to the restaurant.
He’d promised her she’d be safe. And look what he’d done. Anger lit a fuse straight to his core. He wanted to explode. Damn his family. Damn them for taking the one sparkle of light in his life and dousing the flame.
He yanked open the door of the restaurant and scanned the back room. He shot straight for the one person he knew without a doubt had caused this mess. After all, he’d noticed Anna and her friend head toward the restrooms a few moments after Mara disappeared down the hall.
“I would like to talk to you. Outside. Now.”
Anna’s eyes flared, then eased, looking around. Seeing heads turn their way, she was sure her brother wouldn’t cause a scene, especially in front of their dad. But the old Joey didn’t exist. He wasn’t that shy, quiet guy anymore.
“I’m busy,” she said. A sisterly taunt, but haughtier.
“Joey. Stop hassling your sister.”
“Stay out of this, Dad.” He said without taking his eyes off Anna.
“Joey!”
He whipped his head towards his dad. “I said stay out of this.” He took a step into Anna, so that she had to tilt her head back to see him. “What happened in the bathroom?”
He noticed his sister’s two friends had gathered around to provide an audience. Her smug expression told him she would take advantage of his innate courtesy, but she didn’t know him. Not anymore.
“Why Joey, you know girls tinkle in the bathroom.”
Her girlfriends laughed at her petty little joke. He didn’t find her sarcasm the least bit funny. Drug lords. Prostitution rings. Pedophiles. He’d helped bust them all. Being outmaneuvered by a spoiled brat wasn’t going to happen.
“I’m giving you till the count of three. If you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder, toss your sorry butt in the wet food dumpster and close the lid until you tell me.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
He took a step closer, his breath mixing with hers. “Try me.”
“Joey, Anna, in the kitchen, now!” His mother’s authoritarian voice broke the tension for only a second.
Anna, sensing a victory, seized the opportunity, her lips revealing her white teeth in a contemptuous smile. “Mother’s waiting.”
He itched to haul her up off the ground and shake some sense into her delinquent head. Instead, he gritted his teeth, and calmly replied, “Lead the way.”
He followed his sister down the narrow hall, through the swinging door, and into the prep station. Just inside the doors, he stopped, assessing where the knives, pots, and pans were stored. Today wouldn’t be the first time a family member threatened to cut off another family member’s body part.
“What’s this about?” His mother’s rigid tone left no room for lies. “Anna?”
“Why me? He started it.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” His mother’s brow raised in an old, familiar arch. The one advising everyone that she’d heard too many excuses, lies, stories and wanted the truth.
Anna studied her French-manicured nail tip, then put it in her mouth to nibble nervously.
“I’m waiting, Anna.”
Anna pointed one of her manicured nails at his chest. “He should have known better than to bring that Dijocomo girl here. She doesn’t fit in. Besides, I didn’t know she was in the bathroom. It’s too bad she had to hear the truth.”
“It is too bad.” His mother held up a hand asking for Joey’s silence. “And I understand why Joey took exception. But I just buried a son. I will not have my other children fighting. Do you understand me?” She looked first at Anna, then him, to secure agreement.
His childhood resentment and the justified reasons for leaving Elkridge dropped into a heaping pile, one, by one, by one. The mound kept growing into what seemed like a month’s worth of smelly, stinky laundry. His animosity intensified until he saw a shift in his mother’s eyes and her body drooped.
Since when had she become so brittle? The dragon of the family appeared to have run out of fire.
In a matter of seconds, his perceptions shifted. Through more adult eyes, he saw his mother as a woman responsible for raising five children. He observed the tired soul. The burden. The heartbreak of losing one too early. He saw her not from the perspective of a rebellious teen, but from a man’s point of view, a man who might be responsible for raising a child someday. He released the lifelong resentment and inhaled long-overdue healing air.
“It’s a fair request,” Joey said. “I will honor Sam. There will be no more discussion of this tonight.” He took a step back. “I’ll say my good-byes to the family. I have a plane to catch in the morning.”
He turned, but his mother’s hand on his arm stopped him. The somber look in her emotion-filled eyes made him turn back to hear what she had to say.
“Anna. You have always been my baby. Always will be. But I indulged you. Spoiled you. You got away with more than all your other siblings combined. I still believe that someday you’ll grow into the woman you have the potential to be.”
Anna’s mouth dropped open to reveal devastated astonishment.
“I agree when you said Mara Dijocomo doesn’t fit in. She’s been through more than anyone can imagine, but she’s managed to keep her courage and pride. I’ve always tried teaching you kids that money doesn’t separate people, it’s how you face your challenges that defines you. Mara has always been one to face her challenges head-on, never once complaining. And to address your point, I seriously doubt she will ever ‘fit in.’ She’s extraordinary. A true one-of-a-kind. I would hope that every Gaccione member would be open to learning from her example, accepting and supporting her in this community. Elkridge is our community. I’ve been feeding this Elkridge family for close to thirty years. It’s time you learned who butters your bread, young lady.”
“But her eavesdropping wasn’t my fault.”
“You, young lady, shouldn’t have thought, much less expressed that type of nastiness. I can only assume by your actions that your words were mean and cruel and spiteful. So tomorrow you’re going to apologize to Miss Dijocomo.”
“Oh, no I’m not.”
His mother’s chest heaved with a deep breath. “Okay. I respect your choice.”
The smugness on Anna’s face became so sugary sweet that Joey wanted to renew his threat, just to reveal her true stench. Anna pushed past him toward the door, but his mother almost snarled, “Anna, I’m not finished.”
His sibling turned back reluctantly.
“Now, respect my position. If you do not apologize within the next twenty-four hours, your father and I will not sign for your car loan, and my wedding dress, the dress you’ve coveted since you were six, will be given away to someone who deserves to wear it. I have tried to raise my children to be respectful. Obviously, I’ve failed somewhere along the line.”
“But—�
�
“No, Anna. No buts. Not this time. You’re old enough to know what’s right and wrong. You were wrong. You know it. I can see the guilt in your eyes.”
“I hate you.” Anna shoved the kitchen door so hard, Joey had to catch it on the backswing. He released the metal, letting the door slowly swing shut.
“And you.” His mother pointed at him. “I heard what you’ve been up to.”
“What have I been up to, Ma?” he asked, his exhaustion squashing his ability to react to her ire.
Her eyes mellowed, her expression wise. “You’ve been doing the right things, that’s what. Meeting with the deputies. Investigating on your own. Catching a killer.”
“Ma—“
“Let me finish. The way you’ve been treating Mara, that makes a momma plumped-up proud. You’re a good man, Joey. I’ve been waiting a long time to tell you. But you never came home, and forgive your old Ma, it’s not something I can say over the phone. I figured I’d better make good use of this moment because I’m afraid you’ll leave again before I get the chance to tell you. Your father and I are proud of you. I wanted to say it. So that you hear it. So that you know it.”
She lifted the edge of her white cotton apron and dabbed the cloth under one eye, then the next.
The little boy buried deep inside the man had desperately needed to hear the rarely granted accolade. Joey took the remaining two steps to bridge the gap and folded his mother in his arms. “I love you, Ma. Maybe I haven’t told you so you understand, either. You and Dad gave me the skills to make a good life for myself. I just didn’t realize to what extent until now.”
His mother’s breath hitched before her arms wrapped around him a bit tighter. He stood and held the woman who’d just lost her oldest son. The woman, wife and mother who reflected on life and her shortcomings. The woman he realized he didn’t know very well and should take the time to know better.
For the first time in his life, he looked at his mother not as the disciplinarian, the negotiator, the teacher, but as the woman who had sacrificed a good part of her life to put food on the table, a roof over her family’s heads, and provide opportunities for a better life for each of her children. The enraged bitterness of being so controlled in his youth began to dissipate, and left behind a gentler understanding of the family matriarch.