Still holding the door open, I said, “You’re the best dad ever.”
“Remember that when I cook dinner tomorrow night.”
I giggled as I let the door go. It took a few seconds to feel around until I hit a stall door. Thank God, we ate at Da Silva’s quite a few times in the past, and I had some memory of how the restroom had been set up.
After finishing up my business, I moved to the sink to wash my hands, and when I put my hands under the water, I splashed some on my shirt. Turning the water off, I felt around in front of me for a paper towel dispenser. Yanking a few out, I dried my hands, then ran the towel over the front of my shirt. With my elbow, I used the wall to guide me back in the direction of the door.
I found the door, grabbed the handle, swung it open, and said, “I got my shirt wet.” When I stepped out, I ran into someone and was knocked back just as the door closed, whacking the back of my head. My eyes closed, and I raised my good arm up and rubbed the spot with my hand.
“Crap! Sorry, are you okay?” came from an unfamiliar voice.
At the same time, my dad said, “Christ, Livi!”
“I think I’m the one who should be saying sorry,” I said, embarrassed and wanting to be anywhere else.
“Nah, you’re good. Are you in pain, though? You got your eyes squeezed shut,” the unfamiliar voice spoke again, and I caught an accent not belonging to the Boston area.
“Livi, are you hurt?”
“No, Dad, just embarrassed,” I said because all I needed was my dad freaking out and calling 911 or something. “Can we go now?” I asked as I dropped my hand and opened my eyes, then said, “Oh my God, I can see you,” and threw my arms around the guy who I had just bumped in to.
“Um, yeah, that’s what happens when you open your eyes,” came from the guy and made me drop my arms and step back when I realized what I had done.
I was ready to apologize again until I looked up and into the darkest brown eyes I had ever seen.
“Livi, what is wro—” Dad stopped before he finished his question and asked a different one, “Did you just say you can see him?”
I turned my head in my dad’s direction, breaking eye contact with the guy who I was sure thought I was crazy. “Yes,” I answered, and my dad wrapped his arms around me. I laid my face against his chest and let the tears fall.
I don’t know how long we stood there, but when my crying jag was over, I raised my head, and the guy with brown eyes was no longer in the hallway. My dad led me out of the restaurant and straight to our house. He called the services for my therapist and our family doctor. We hadn’t picked up ice cream, but we celebrated with brownies. The single ones pre-packaged in a box.
I looked at everything as I walked through the house on my way upstairs to my room. And I had a new respect for anyone who suffered from permanently being blind or having any type of sight issues.
I touched things on my dresser and ran my fingers over my violin case leaning in the corner by the bathroom door. I even watched myself in the mirror while I brushed my teeth as if it were a new experience.
Once in bed, I reached and turned the lamp off, then snuggled down in my bed. I closed my eyes with the knowledge that I’d never take any of my abilities for granted.
And instead of the familiar nightmare which sometimes showed up, I stared into those dark brown eyes. I was sure I’d remember them if I ever saw them again.
Our life...
Olivia & Lucio
Chapter Nine
Lucio
I SHUT OUT EVERYTHING in the gym except the familiar sound of the speed bag. Keeping the rhythm going, I replayed the fight from two days ago in my head.
The crowd had been rowdy as they shouted for my opponent. They wanted him to win. Every time he landed a blow, they chanted his damn name. It grated on my last nerve. I knew better than to let the shit get to me, but I had. Then I found myself struggling with the old ghost of not being good enough.
I’d spent the first two years in Boston getting used to my new life. Six months living at my uncle’s house until my mom had saved enough from her housekeeping job for us to afford our own place. I worked at my uncle Tony’s restaurant after I could move without grimacing from the slow healing of my ribs until I started making enough money with my fights. It had been a long three years, learning wrestling moves, taking martial art classes, working on my form, and building stamina in the ring. Starting at the bottom of MMA bouts with little to no pay. There were nights I crawled into bed and wondered if I’d ever get to the next level. Was I doomed to fail at everything? Spending my life running from past mistakes and wondering if I was fast enough to outrun what fate had in store for me.
Maybe I would have given up then, but I’d gotten the taste of winning, and it settled in me. Oh, there’d been losses in my journey so far, and I used them and the feeling to push me. Because somewhere along the way, what I had started with the misguided notion, it would keep me closer to my dad, had turned into my desire to prove I controlled my future.
It’d taken some time, but the days, weeks, months, and years I’d worked to climb the ranks, was down to three. Three fights that put me on top.
At twenty-two, in one of those three fights—I’d taken the underdog status and used it to my advantage.
Ray Cabeara wasn’t to be counted out as he sidestepped my punch and countered it with a kick that had his ankle and foot making contact with the right side at my kidney. The grunt and twinge to the side showed the blow had some power behind it.
He came for me and tried a grappling hold for a takedown to the mat, but I was ready for the move. Before Cabeara got close enough to get his arms around me, I sidestepped him. My quickness paid off and left him in a vulnerable position for my kick, which was delivered with precision and knocked him off balance. The bell rang as Cabeara righted himself.
“Better have enjoyed that lucky shot. You won’t get another,” Cabeara said and started toward his corner. I’d smiled when I noticed the slightly less exuberant way he walked.
The next three rounds had been brutal. Cabeara fought to keep his standing, and I fought to take his spot. Both of us sported marks on different areas of our bodies, and we would feel the effects of the bout for days after. Like I currently was as I grabbed ahold of the speed bag and stopped its movement only to start over.
In the last round of the fight, I was ready. I charged Cabeara low, wrapped my arms around his thighs, then lifted him up and brought us both down to the mat. I scrambled and tried to straddle Cabeara while throwing punches. Cabeara struggled to block the punches and unseat me.
He bucked his hips, and I slipped off. Anticipating the move, I shuffled out of reach and bounced to my feet. I knew time was ticking, and it was now or never. We’d squared off again and threw punch for punch.
The crowd was vocal, and I lost a second of my focus that gave Cabeara an opening. He stepped back to give himself a little room, and I watched as he rotated his hips. I knew the move. I’d seen him fight on more than one occasion. As he swung his leg out and aimed for my chin, I stepped back to gain enough space to counter. I grabbed Cabeara’s leg and held it, keeping him off balance, then swung my own leg forward as I twisted my hips. The blow contained enough force that when my foot landed on the side of Cabeara’s head, he was done. He fell to the mat, unconscious.
“Weren’t you supposed to be taking a couple days off? I ran by your place to see if you wanted to grab something to eat. When you didn’t answer, I knew you’d be here.”
Tao’s interruption brought me out of my head. “Needed to burn off some energy. Why didn’t you text?” I stopped the bag and stepped back.
Tao laughed. “Dude, there’s a better way to burn energy without punishing your already bruised hands. And I didn’t text because I figured you’d still be lounging around and blow me off.”
Walt was my manager and he owned the place. Tao was on staff as a trainer. When I started competing, he began filling in as my sparring partn
er, too. We’d become fast friends. I tried not to overthink the fact he had the same easygoing demeanor Davis had.
“You’re in a good mood. What did you do last night?” I asked as I unrolled the wraps from my hands. Tao was right, my knuckles were bruised and a little tender, but no way would I share that with him.
“Please, you mean, who was I doing last night.”
“You’re such a ho,” I said and shook my head as I tossed the strips in my opened bag. When I arrived at the gym, I hadn’t even bothered to go to the locker room.
“Might loosen up your muscles and release some tension if you’d spend some time with a woman. You know, touch some soft skin...get laid.” I went to punch him, and he jumped out of the way and laughed.
I moved to the weight machines, and after placing the weight plates I needed on one, I sat on the bench and started working my legs.
“I released tension two days ago.”
“If you think a fight compares to touching, caressing, and getting sweaty with a woman...I’m going to suggest a doctor look inside your head. Damn, Lucio, what happened to the blonde you were dating with the legs up to her ears. What was her name, Lucy, or something else that starts with an L?”
The weights clanged as I let them down and swung my legs around but stayed seated. “Lynn. And that ended two months ago.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, she started giving me grief about how much time I spent training. And evidently, when I have a bout scheduled, I’m so focused that I don’t pay attention to anything else.”
“Tough break that she walked.”
“All’s good,” I said and stood. I didn’t want to share that it been a huge argument and that Lynn hadn’t walked, I’d told her to get out. Her parting shot was she hoped Cabeara beat the shit out of me because I was an asshole who would never amount to anything.
After she left my apartment, I grabbed the Chinese takeout bag and a beer and ate in the living room, watching sports. She’d lasted longer than any other woman. Maybe Tao’s one and done attitude wasn’t a bad thing. No attachment, no worry you’re not giving them enough attention. But in my defense, Lynn wanted me to be invested in her life when the only thing she’d cared about was bragging rights of dating an MMA fighter. I did miss the steady sex, though.
“I’m going to go get food. Want me to bring you something back?” Tao asked, and the subject of women dropped thankfully.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind. I want to finish my workout.” I leaned and reached into my bag for my wallet. As I pulled it out, I noticed my cell blinking indicating I’d missed a call or text. Swiping the screen, I saw my mom’s number and a voicemail. “Hold on a second. My mom never leaves a message when she calls.”
“She’s at work, right?”
“Should be,” I answered as I hit the button and listened to the message. Relieved it wasn’t anything major. I texted her, looked at the time on the screen, then dropped the phone back in my bag. “Got to pick her up at six. Something’s wrong with her car. Uncle Tony swung by this morning and dropped her off at work, but he won’t be able to pick her up because it’ll be the dinner rush at the restaurant.”
“Hell, you’d think the people she works for would offer. Hasn’t she worked for the same family since you guys moved here?” Tao questioned as he took the cash I held out for my food.
“She’s been with them for six years. Even with that, if they volunteered, Mom would never accept.”
“So, what are you in the mood for? I’m thinking of a big, greasy burger and fries.”
I cringed. “I can hear your arteries hardening. How about sub sandwiches and you can even get chips? You get carbs, starch, and protein minus the grease. Cut your body a break.”
“You’re actually going to eat a sub and chips?” He snorted in disbelief because I rarely indulged in fast food. Not that I didn’t eat out, I did. But even cheating, I tried to stick with healthier choices and not overindulge.
“No chips. But I’ll take two twelve-inch turkey, with extra serving on meat only. And have them toast the wheat bread.”
Tao rolled his eyes. “Christ, now I know why I went the trainer route, instead of becoming a fighter.”
“I thought it was because you didn’t want your pretty face abused.”
“True. I mean, look at your face. You have a cut over one eye, a cheek that is still a little puffy and doesn’t know what shade it wants to be, and I’m not even going to go over your body. Seriously, the one kick you took to the side, I’m surprised you’re not pissing blood. No thanks. The headgear is the only reason I spar with you.”
“Whatever. Go get our food. I’m going to hit the treadmill.”
“Run a mile for me,” Tao said, then headed for the door as I walked toward the machine. Once I finished my workout, then ate, it’d still leave plenty of time to chill out at my apartment before I had to pick up my mom.
AFTER JOGGING TO MY car and fighting traffic from Roxbury Crossing to Beacon Hill, I reached the street the house was on where my mom worked. Running only ten minutes late. I never should’ve laid down when I got home from the gym.
I pulled up to the house and figured my mom would be waiting outside a little miffed. Instead, I parked in the empty spot behind the car that sat in front of the house and jumped out, grabbing the shirt I’d picked up on my way out my apartment door.
The house was large, but it didn’t surprise me. Beacon Hill was a high-end area. I rang the bell, and the door was answered immediately as my head popped through the no sleeves t-shirt.
“Sorry,” I said as I pulled the shirt down over my torso, then turned my attention to the person who opened the door. I was caught off guard when it wasn’t my mom standing there. I expected her to be the one at the door—not the brown-haired, brown-eyed young woman who stood in front of me.
When I glanced down, she was staring at me and hadn’t said a word.
“Umm, I’m here to pick up my mom.” I lifted a brow in question as she continued to stare.
Finally, she shook her head as if clearing it out and spoke, “Oh, yes. You must be Gina’s son.”
“That’d be me. If you tell Mom I’m here, I’ll wait for her in the car.”
“No. No,” the woman said in a hurried tone, then stepped to the side. “Please come in. She’s in the kitchen.” Then her cheeks started to pinken as her eyes stayed focused on my face.
“You’re probably wondering about my face being a bit banged up, huh? I had a fight the other day.”
“A fight?”
I laughed at how she said it and the expression that appeared on her face.
“A sanctioned fight. Not a punch someone for no reason fight. I’m in the MMA.” I stepped past her and into the house.
“Oh,” she replied, then giggled and pointed. “The kitchen is that way.”
As I walked down the hallway, her footsteps followed behind me. I made a mental note to ask my mom if the woman had something wrong with her. Not that it mattered, I just never remembered my mom mentioning anything about her over the years. But then again, it’s not like we talked about her job past the question of how her day went.
The thought entered my mind that Lynn was right, and I didn’t pay attention to anything other than training and my next fight. Because I knew nothing about the family my mom worked for.
Christ, I’d kept everything and everyone around me at a distance for so long. A part of me was afraid I’d lose anyone who I let get too close to me. Suddenly it hit me that even though I worked to change the course of my life, it didn’t mean I had to do it alone. Maybe that was why I always felt something was missing from my life.
The key to making everything fall into place.
Chapter Ten
Olivia
AFTER BEING UPSTAIRS in my room, going over sheet music for an hour, I headed downstairs for a much needed break. As I reached the halfway mark on the stairs, the aroma of food hit me, and my stomach growled. Whatever Gina had fixed smel
led delicious.
With my mind on food, when I reached the landing, the doorbell rang, and I opened the door without a second thought to who would be on the other side. Then I stood frozen to my spot and struggled to gain speech because of the man on the stoop who was in the process of pulling a shirt over his head.
It didn’t take him long to get the sleeveless t-shirt down, but I’d gotten a fair glimpse of him. Enough to notice that he was in shape. Excellent shape. His chest was broad, then his waist tapered in. He had a six-pack with a dark brown trail of hair leading into the waistband of a pair of black gym shorts.
When he spoke, I had to look up to view his face. Even with a healing cut above one eye and what looked like a bruised cheek, he was good looking. Beautiful in fact, but I didn’t think he’d appreciate that sentiment if I spoke it out loud. Not that I gained the ability to speak. His hair was a deep brown and a little long and curled at the tips. He had facial hair to match, but it was shaved close and neat.
The man was the full package, but his eyes were what mesmerized me the most. They were brown and so dark in color they could be considered black.
He was staring at me with his eyebrow cocked when I realized he must have spoken again.
I shook my head and tried to recall what he said. Something about picking up his mom.
“Oh, yes. You must be Gina’s son.” I remembered Gina had mentioned her car hadn’t started that morning, and her son would be picking her up. Dad and I both had offered to run her home whenever she was finished that evening, but she declined.
When Dad had hired her, and she first came to work for us, I’d been fifteen and called her Mrs. Moretti. After she’d been with us a year, she insisted we call her Gina because she considered us as her second family. Which I guessed wasn’t far off since she spent Monday through Friday from seven in the morning to six in the evening at our house. She might have been hired as a housekeeper, but she quickly became a godsend for my dad and me. We both were struggling with the loss of my mom and hadn’t realized how much until Gina had stepped into our lives. She didn’t walk in and try to take over the place. Her kindness and warmth made it easier for us to get through the days.
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