by A. Hargrove
Once everyone was settled, we went out to the market. I wanted to stock up the house with food for the week. The brands were different here, so I hesitated on buying too much on the chance that Gabriele wouldn't like some of the food. If I let him pick some things out, then he'd be more likely to eat them.
Afterward, we went home and put everything away. Gabriele and I played catch in the back yard, and then some football. I had purchased a goal and ball for him to practice with. He loved to kick the ball and I thought I could enroll him in a league while he was here.
On Sunday, we woke to a beautiful day. Papa decided to ramble around the house and read so I decided to take Gabriele to the park. He brought the football to kick around and I also promised to take him for gelato after.
At first, he ran around and I chased him, acting like I couldn't catch him. His giggles were contagious. He had my heart thoroughly wrapped around his little finger. I loved and adored him so completely, the thought of life without him wasn't conceivable. Every time I looked into his sparkling hazel eyes, or saw his toothy grin, an incredible amount of joy filled my heart and soul. I never imagined I could love another human being this much.
Suddenly, a barking dog attracted Gabriele's attention. He wiggled his way out of my arms and dashed toward the pooch. At first I was nervous because you never knew if a dog was friendly or not, but then I saw its wagging tail and relaxed.
We were petting the pup and I glanced over to the bench next to where we were and there she sat, staring at us. I couldn't tear my eyes away. She looked beautiful, sitting there in the sun, her hair in a messy twist at her neck, and a book in her hand.
“Papa, look. He's kissing me.”
I turned to see Gabriele and the pup enjoying each other and when I went to look back at Piper, she was gone. I watched her walking away in the distance and wanted to go after her, but it would be the wrong thing to do. Definitely the wrong thing to do.
Chapter Five
Piper
A part of me was thrilled he'd seen me. The other part was devastated. No, not devastated because we'd never been anything to each other. But definitely pissed off. What kind of married man was he to initiate intimate contact with someone on a plane, like he'd done with me? What a creep. I should've walked up to him and punched him in the nose. But then his son would've been harmed and he should never pay for the sins of his father. Poor little boy to be unfortunate to have a dad like Alessandro.
I huffed all the way to my favorite coffee shop, where I took a seat and ordered a latte. I should've gone to a pub and gotten drunk. Maybe that would've calmed me down. As I sat there, an attractive young man sat at the small table next to me. He didn't say anything at first, for which I was thankful. I didn't feel like making conversation with a stranger.
Picking my book up, I began to read, only my concentration wasn’t there. I was reading the same paragraph over and over. Slamming the book shut, I put it down and sighed.
“Sounds like someone is having a bad day.”
I glared at him. “Really? What gave you that idea?”
Instead of turning away, he grinned. He was cute in a boyish way. His hair was messy, and he appeared to be about my age. I’d guess he was a student as well.
“If your frown got any deeper, your face would fall in it. But actually it was the way you slammed your book closed.” He reached out his hand and said, “I'm Sam, by the way. It's nice to meet another American.”
I knew I was being a total bitch, but I didn't shake his hand. “Who said I was American?”
He withdrew his hand. “Your accent certainly isn't British.”
“I could be Canadian.”
“True, but you're definitely from across the pond. Am I right?”
I shrugged.
“It's clear something has really set you off. I have an idea. Why don't we get out of here and go for some ice cream?”
That actually sounded great. I didn't lose the scowl yet, but I asked, “Why would I do that? I don't even know you. You could be a serial killer.”
“Have you actually looked at this face?” He aimed a thumb at his boyish face.
I suppressed my chuckle because the last thing he looked like was a murderer. “Ted Bundy didn't look like a serial killer. He was handsome and a lawyer.”
“True, but I'll give you my wallet. And you can text your next of kin my phone number just in case you go missing. I bet Ted never would've offered that to his victims.”
He was right. I held out my hand, playing along. “Hand me your phone.”
He did and I asked him his password so I could open it. I sent his number to my sister, Sylvie, and told her if I didn't text her tonight or tomorrow, to call Scotland Yard.
She immediately texted me back.
Are you insane? What's going on?
I explained the situation and told her I was getting ice cream with a Ted Bundy look alike. And then I sent her his picture. All I got back was a series of laughing emojis. My family never took me seriously.
About a minute later, my phone rang. It was my uber-rich brother-in-law, Evan.
“Hi, Evan.”
“Piper, what's going on.”
“I told Sylvie I was getting ice cream with Sam and that he reminded me of Ted Bundy.”
“Christ. What do you know about him.”
“Nothing. That's why I sent her his picture and phone number.”
While I talked to Evan, Sam watched me with a grin.
“What's his last name?”
“No idea.”
“Well, ask him for fuck's sake.”
“Hey, Sam, what's your last name?”
“Elliott.”
I got back on the phone and said, “It's Elliott.”
“I heard.” Evan said. “And he's yanking your chain.”
My scowl returned. “What do you mean?”
“Sam Elliott is an actor.”
Then it dawned on me. “Oh, shit.”
My eyes stabbed Sam's and he asked, “What?”
“Your name? Elliott?”
“Swear to God, that's my last name. Look at my ID. My full name is James Samuel Elliott.”
I said to Evan over the phone, “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah. Sounds plausible.”
“I know.”
Then Sam interjected, “Look, all I want to do is take you to the ice cream place. I didn't expect this to be such a huge deal. I thought it was a little joke. We can forget it.”
He grabbed his backpack and held out his hand.
“What?”
“I need my wallet.”
“Hang on.” I got back on the phone with Evan. “Look, Evan, I have to go. Everything's cool. Sam isn't like Ted Bundy, okay?”
“Call when you get home.”
Sam and I were both silent, but then he said, “You're really strange. Do you do this with all the guys you hang out with?”
“No. I've never done it with anyone before. It started out as a joke.”
“Some joke.”
“Do you still want to get ice cream because now that you've mentioned it, I could really use some.”
“What the hell put you in such a terrible mood?”
“Nothing.” I grabbed my stuff and we headed toward the ice cream place.
Sam stopped and touched my arm. “I just want to say this. I hope ice cream works on you like it did my ex-girlfriend.”
“What do you mean?”
“Any time she was in a bitchy mood, a little ice cream worked miracles.”
“I'm not in a bitchy mood.”
“Then what do you call it?”
“I'm a little angry. That's all.”
We walked again in the direction of the park and I wondered if creepy married man was still there.
“I didn't know there was an ice cream place near here.”
Sam glanced over at me. “How long have you been here?”
“Since late summer.”
“You must not get out muc
h. It's one of the best. They also have amazing gelato too.”
“Great. I'll probably live there now. Ice cream is my go-to dessert and comfort food. I adore it.”
We entered the shop and it was lovely. They had small tables scattered everywhere and it was filled with not only ice cream and gelato, but all sorts of sweet delicacies. Cookies, cakes, pastries, and even yummy looking donuts were on display. My mouth instantly watered. There was also a candy counter with chocolates and other confections to attract the younger kids, although, I would most likely be paying a visit there before we left. My sweet tooth was growing larger by the second.
“So, what's your name, anyway? You know mine, it's only fair.”
“True. I'm Piper West.”
“Good to meet you, although I think you're trouble.”
“I'm really not.”
“Yeah. In the first five minutes we've known each other, you accused me of being a Ted Bundy like serial killer and then told your sister to call Scotland Yard when all I wanted to do was bring you here.”
“And this place is awesome, by the way.” I chose to ignore the rest of what he said. I already felt bad about it. He was just some nice guy who happened to want to cheer me up. “What are you getting?”
“Yeah, change the subject.”
“I'm sorry, but there's nothing else I can say.”
The corner of his mouth tipped up and a dimple peeked out. “I accept. I'm getting the strawberry cheesecake.”
“Just one scoop?”
“No. Three.”
I ended up with chocolate peanut butter, vanilla with toffee, and vanilla bean. Oh my gosh, was it ever good.
We took seats at one of the tables and he tried to talk, but all he got back was the palm of my hand. When I finally scooped the last bit from the bowl, I said, “Don't ever interrupt me when I'm eating ice cream. There is nothing important enough to come between me and this creamy delight.”
“Duly noted. You were so into it, I didn't know if you were going to lick the bowl or not.”
“Ha ha, funny.”
“Sorry, but true. I should've taken a picture of you. Such concentration.”
“Yeah, well, like I said, it's my favorite.” Sam was beginning to annoy me. “I'm going to wash my hands. I'll be right back.”
It didn't take long and then he went to do the same. When he was gone, a little boy zoomed past me and I heard a voice, “Gabriele, wait.” I’d recognize his voice anywhere. Was he going to show up everywhere I went?
I turned around and there he was, reaching for his son.
“But, Papa, look!” The boy's voice was filled with amazement as he pointed to the candy counter.
“I thought you wanted gelato.”
“I do and I want this too.” His finger was aimed at a huge sucker with a rainbow of swirls on it.
“Fine, but let's eat our gelato first. What kind do you want?”
The boy rattled off something in Italian and they went back and forth, alternating between English and Italian. I had to admit, the kid was precious. His hair was the same color as Alessandro's and his eyes were huge. He had the most expressive face I'd ever seen. As he spoke, he gesticulated rapidly, his small hands flying all over the place. God, I wanted to grab him and run. He deserved a better daddy, one who was faithful to his mother.
Suddenly, the little boy asked, “Papa, do you know that lady over there because she keeps watching me.”
Fuckery fucker fuck. I bent down as though I was tying my shoe. I knew Alessandro was looking my way, but then Sam came back and sat down. Thank God. I was still bent in half when Alessandro and his son walked past. His glare melted my shirt as he did. He had to have known it was me.
Once I saw his shoes go by, I sat straight up and said, “You ready?”
“As ever.”
I practically ran out of the place with Sam chasing me.
Chapter Six
Alessandro
The woman Gabriele spoke of had eyes that stabbed me with daggers. She wasn't shooting them at me now because she acted as though she didn't want me to notice her. It was too late for that. How could I miss her and how had I? I'd run right past her as I'd chased my son. As time went on, she hated me more and more. The wall she'd erected grew higher and thicker. But was it really my fault? She couldn't possibly understand. And did I truly owe her an explanation? The way I saw things, I didn't. But we were obviously on two different planes.
What did it matter though? We had no future as long as I taught here and she was a student. That line would never be crossed.
“Papa, I want one of those.” Gabriele tugged on my sleeve. He pointed to a large sucker that would take him a month to eat.
“Why don't you get one of those?” I pointed to the smaller ones exactly like it.
“Papa, please. That's the one I want.”
I hadn't seen him in three weeks and he was hard to refuse so I relented. “What about the gelato you wanted?”
“Si, that too.”
I paid for his candy and then went for the gelato. The kid wouldn't have any teeth if he kept up this sugar consumption.
We sat and ate our frozen dessert and he asked me the question. “Who was that lady?”
“Just someone I used to know.”
“Why did she look so, um, naughty.”
She was definitely that, but I kept a straight face. “I'm not sure that's the correct word, piccolino. Maybe upset with me would be better.”
“Why was she upset with you?”
“It's difficult to explain. It's more for grown-ups.”
“Oh, like my mama is upset with you?”
My spoon was halfway to my mouth and I stopped at his words. “Where did you hear that?”
“Mama told me. She said you won't let her see me and that you are being naughty.”
My jaw tightened along with every other muscle in my body. Remaining calm was next to impossible as my heart thumped an erratic beat in my chest. Anger ripped through me like lava. “Gabriele, when did you speak to your mama?”
His small shoulders lifted high as though it weren't important. But it was more than important. This was vital information and I needed to hear it from his mouth.
“Can you try to remember for me?”
“One day after school I think.” He eyed me beneath his lids. “Is she in trouble?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because she told me not to tell anyone.”
That conniving bitch. Of course she did. “Piccolino, she's not in trouble. What else did she say?”
“That she wants to visit me, only you won't let her.”
I ground my teeth together in order not to yell at my son. If only he knew the truth.
“Why can't she visit me, Papa?”
I unclenched my fist and released the breath I'd held. “It's a long story and one day I'll tell you. But now, why don't we pick out some candy to take home to Nonno.”
That distracted him enough so that he hopped out of his chair and ran back over to the candy counter. We ended up buying a huge bag of all kinds of sweets, including chocolates, cookies, and pastries. It was all a ruse to keep my son's mind off his mother. Now I wondered if I needed to move permanently.
When we got home, Gabriele ran into the house calling out for his nonno. My father came downstairs laughing.
“What's going on that has you so excited?”
“Look!” Gabriele held out one of the bags we bought.
“My goodness. Who has such a sweet tooth?”
“We do!” he hollered.
“Son, why don't you go outside and kick the ball for a while?”
“Okay. But when I come back in can I have some more candy?”
“Not until after you eat your dinner.”
He nodded and took off toward the back door. When I heard the door close, I told my father what he'd said. “How did she get to even speak to him?”
“He must've answered the phone. We can't have eyes on him one
hundred percent of the time, you know.”
“Maybe we should all have our numbers changed.”
“He's going to have to talk to her someday.”
I groaned. “Hopefully when he's eighteen and can understand how to deal with her. At his tender age, she will manipulate him and you know this.”
“I do know this. It's why you're here.”
“Papa, should I move to the states?”
“To America?”
“Yes. I thought since this position is only temporary, perhaps I should apply for a position at a university over there. I made several viable contacts when I was in Denver. There is a solid chance I could get accepted at one of the better institutions. That way, it would be more difficult for her to find us.”
“Alessandro, is that what you want?”
“No! What I want is to go back to Italy and live a normal life, but as long as there is breath in her body, my son is in danger.”
My father clenched my shoulder. “We can hire protection for Gabriele.”
“That won't stop her from contacting him. It could come at any time, in any way. Texts, emails, letters. I want him away from her until he is capable of understanding what kind of person she is.”
“But the estate...”
“It's the first place she'll come looking. You know that, Papa.”
Air wheezed out of my lungs as a vise clenched around my chest. The thought of the endless road in front of me pummeled my brain. She'd never leave us alone. She'd always want Gabriele. Oh, she doesn't really want him. She only wanted to use him as a weapon against me. After everything that happened, all the pain and suffering she'd put my family through, including her son, her own flesh and blood, she still wanted more.
Papa stood and walked over to the liquor cabinet. He took out a bottle of scotch and poured each of us a glass.
“Here.” He handed me one.
“Isn't it a little early for this?”
“Not to my way of thinking. After talking about her, we both need to calm down.”
“We have four more years until she's out. Then all hell will be upon us.”
“Alessandro, you may be right about moving away for good. As much as it would break my heart to see you go, Gabriele needs to be kept away from her and I'm not sure how else to do it. I'm wondering if you should change your name. She knows what you do so it is a simple matter of googling you.”