“Non il voit casa!” he yelled at them, slurring his words ridiculously.
“Mio Dio,” Atillio said. “Why is he here?”
“You know that bum?” Dean asked, surprise evident in his voice. “Who the hell is he?”
“That man?” Atillio said, “That man is Hazel’s father.”
44
Hazel
Indigo had disappeared back up the stairs for more stuff, leaving Stefano and Hazel standing in the kitchen staring at each other.
“What’s going on?” Hazel asked. She felt a little teary again. Why was life so difficult?
“I don’t know,” Stefano said. “I came home, and she was already like this. Running around, screaming that you both need to leave. Will you really go?”
Hazel pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sank into it. “Oh, Stefano, I don’t know what’s going on with anyone right now. But I think we’ll be leaving, yes. Although I have to say I thought my mother would be hard to convince of that. At least this makes it easier.”
“But why?” Stefano moaned. “Why do you leave?”
She was so tired. Too tired to explain how everything had gone wrong. The huge mistakes they'd made. She opened her mouth to try, but a loud commotion outside saved her. Then she heard his voice. Dean! A part of her had been hoping he would show up. But now he was here she wasn’t prepared to hear what he had to say. That he was going back to his perfect girlfriend and his perfect life so, thanks for the memories? She hoisted her body out of her chair with effort and moved to the open back door. Dean was standing on her back lawn, looking heartbreakingly sexy and sad. Atillio was with him, and some guy she didn’t recognize was yelling in Italian. Some guy who didn’t look that well, in fact he looked like a bum. Did they even have bums in Borgotaro?
“Dean,” she whispered. She was sure she'd been too quiet for him to hear, but his eyes looked up right away. He crossed rapidly to the back stairs and grabbed her hands, blocking her view of the other two men.
“What you saw, Hazel,” Dean began, urgently, “it wasn’t how it looked. Isabella and I are over. To be honest we never really began. It’s so hard to explain but will you let me explain before I go?”
Her heart sank. He was going. She knew he would be. She had kept one tiny speck of hope alive, but it withered with his words. Did she want him to explain? Did she care, if he was leaving her anyway?
"Oh Dean, I'm..." The drunk man crashed into Dean from behind but he stood steady as a rock, holding her gaze.
“Let me in so I can see my wife!!”
"Can we go inside, Hazel?" Dean stepped closer to her, his voice laced with urgency. Who was this guy and why was Dean ignoring him? He was a pitiful sight and Hazel immediately felt sorry for him. Although he also looked like trouble, so she didn’t particularly want him in her garden.
“Now, now Roberto.” Atillio stepped toward him and put an arm around his shoulders. “You're confused.”
"You know this man, Atillio?" Hazel looked over her shoulder for more help but Stefano had vanished and Indigo had yet to come back downstairs.
"Yes. Yes. Roberto's no trouble, are you?”
“Non voglio caffè, vecchio!" the drunk guy had turned toward Atillio and screamed unintelligible Italian into his face. Atillio had recoiled as if bitten by a snake. His breath must reek of alcohol - bourbon, if she wasn't mistaken. And Hazel could smell his sweat from here.
She turned her attention back to Dean. “I think you’d better go, and take these two with you,” she said. “Indigo’s having a break down, so I need to deal with her. I’m not sure if I can handle talking to you as well, Dean. This is too much for me right now. I’m sorry.”
“I said, I want to see my wife!” the drunk screamed again. He took another step toward Hazel, tripped over Dean's foot and tumbled onto the grass. Atillio leaned over to hoist him up just as Indigo appeared on the back porch. Hazel turned to her mother and her anxiety level ratcheted up a notch. She imagined herself in one of those cartoons, steam coming out of her ears. Her mother looked even worse than she had ten minutes ago. Her complexion resembled the greenish white of moldy yogurt. Hazel was stunned when she started screaming at the drunk man who leaned dangerously against Atillio.
“Roberto! Are you mad? Why did you come here? You know the rules!” Indigo’s voice was shaking as though she were on the verge of tears.
Hazel whipped her body around to give her mother the benefit of her full gaze. “You know this man?”
Indigo ignored her and stepped into the garden to Roberto’s side. She helped Atillio get him steady on his feet and then, very sternly, as though she were talking to a naughty child, said, “You need to go to Stella's with Atillio and sober up right now. Go with Atillio!”
“What's the matter? I can’t come and visit my own wife in my own house?”
This didn't make any sense. What was that bum talking about? His wife? His house? Hazel pushed Dean aside and moved closer to her mother and the scary drunk. “Mother, you’re scaring the crap out of me. What have you done? Is that why you want to leave? Have you eloped with some Italian stranger? Who is this guy?”
“Stranger?” The guy stepped forward and poked Hazel, hard, on the shoulder. “I know this woman for over thirty years. She’s no stranger. Do I know you? Your face looks familiar.”
Indigo stepped between them, her face now a bright and splotchy red. Tears threatened. “He’s drunk Hazel! He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Please, please go back in the house and pack. I want to go home,” and then she did start crying. Hazel was stunned and completely disarmed by her mother’s tears. She reached out to pull her into a hug, but her mother pushed her away toward the house. “Go, please, go!”
This was crazy. Indigo wasn’t making sense. Hazel would not leave her mother here crying her eyes out with some crazy drunk guy drooling all over her. She turned to Dean. “Can you help us? Can you get this guy out of here?” Dean took a deep breath and shared a look with Atillio, Atillio nodded and Dean moved toward the Roberto guy. The bum took one look at Dean’s intimidating physique and starting screaming.
“You can’t make me go! This is my house. This is my wife!” And then Stefano re-appeared on the steps attracting Roberto’s attention. “You’re here too! Dio! Just one grande familigia!”
“I think you should leave,” Stefano called out from the top step, he seemed too terrified to come any closer.
“Oh, you’d like that boy. You’d like it if I disappeared.”
Indigo’s tears came to a sudden stop as her famous temper came roaring forth. “You, be quiet now! Your mother’s nephew has a right to be here. And this is my house! Your mother left it to me. She left it to me because she knew you'd gamble it away. Just like you’ve gambled away the rest of your sad life. She knew how much money I gave you. She knew I needed to get back on my feet after spending my entire life rescuing you from problems of your own making.”
Hazel’s head was spinning. His mother was the one who had owned the house? This was Indigo's ex-boyfriend? Why did he say husband? Indigo had given him money? Indigo didn’t have any money. The only resources Indigo had were the endless checks and bank transfers Hazel had arranged, for various Indigo “emergencies”. Her mother could run through money as though she were shoveling it into a wood burning stove. And no wonder. She’d been giving it to this guy? This vagrant?
“I’m not Maria’s nephew, Indigo,” Stefano called to Indigo from the step, still keeping his distance. “I’m his son.”
"Oh Dio!" Atillio groaned and Dean reached up for her hand. What was happening?
Her mother's face change colors again, the deep, red flush of her anger fading into a green once more. “His… his son?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper now. "You didn’t tell me, Roberto. All these years and you never told me you had another woman, another son? How many people have I been supporting?”
Hazel had had enough. “Stop!” she yelled, and Indigo jumped. “What t
he hell is going on here, Mother? Who is this man? What is going on?”
Indigo sighed and sank down onto the grass. She dropped her head into her hands and shook it hard. Her hair flying about her face. She was really scaring Hazel now.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I never wanted you to know. I wanted you to have something different, someone different. So I made stuff up. I made up a parent for you who was better than me, better than… him." She looked up at Hazel, stretching out her arm to point a finger at the drunk man, and took a deep and shaky breath. "This is Roberto," she said. "This is your father.”
45
Hazel
What? This man? This homeless looking, spendthrift, drunk was her father? No! That couldn’t be! Her father had been respected and successful. He’d loved his family. He’d died! Her father was dead. She remembered the funeral… didn’t she? Hazel grasped at filmy memories floating through her brain, trying to get one to stop still for a minute and come into focus. Her mother had told her all about the funeral. She'd been five-years-old and sad and confused. There had been a church and a graveyard, right? But not one of the hazy scenes flashing through her head would stay. She realized then she had no images of her own stashed in her memory. All she had were the images her mother had planted. There were no photos. Indigo had said she’d been too sad to take photos. Just like she'd been too sad to keep any of her father from when he was alive, even though Hazel had begged for them. Indigo had been lying to her? Her entire life?
These thoughts were tumbling through her head as she stared at the man who was the opposite of everything she'd imagined her father to be. He stepped forward and opened his arms, coming close enough so she could smell the alcohol sweating through his pores. “Ciao Caro,” he said. “Mia bella figlia!” She stepped backward out of his reach and he tumbled to the grass again. He lifted himself up briefly on one arm then lay back down and promptly started to snore.
Hazel looked down at her mother, still on the ground with her head in her arms. “How could you, Mother? How could you lie about this my entire life?”
Indigo didn’t lift her head from her arms, just shook it so hard that her grey curls spilled from her hasty ponytail. “You weren't supposed to find out. Ever. I was trying to protect you. I was trying to give you what you needed. I wasn't much of a mother and you've always wanted a father. I knew I couldn’t give you this one, so I made one up."
Hazel was trying to digest the unbelievable words that had spilled from her mother’s mouth when Indigo turned on Atillio. “And you! Who do you think you are telling other people to ask me about our family secrets?”
Atillio looked abashed. “I only told Dean. I’m sorry. It was a mistake.”
“Some mistake,” Indigo climbed to her feet angrily and stepped over the snoring Roberto. “It was a mistake that caused this! Stella told me you told Dean to ask me about it, and then I told Dean everything, then she told everyone I told Dean, which meant that Roberto figured Hazel knew already, which meant he figured it would be fine if he broke our agreement. Our legal agreement! He figured why should he stay away when the entire purpose was so that Hazel didn’t find out about him!”
"Is that why you wanted to go home, Mother?"
"Stella called me to tell me he was on his way and why. I wanted to leave before he got here."
Two pieces of information were spinning in Hazel’s brain, each vying for attention. First, her Dad knew he had a daughter? Her Dad knew she existed and yet had agreed to never see her again so he could get money? She wasn't sure she could process that, like, ever. But, it was the second piece of information that broke her heart into a million pieces.
She turned to him slowly. His eyes were pools of sadness. They killed her a little bit more. “You knew about him, Dean?”
“Hazel, I was going to…”
“You knew and you didn’t tell me? After all of the stuff I told you about my letters to him? I've been telling you what kind of man he was and yet you knew this man was my father?" She shook her head at him in disbelief. "What an idiot you’ve made of me.” She took a step backward toward the safety of her cozy kitchen. She needed these people out of her sight.
Dean stepped toward her but she put up her hands; the universal sign for stop. She didn't know him. She had thought she'd known the deepest depths of him. But she didn't know him at all.
“Hazel, wait! I didn’t know that man was your father.” He pointed to the snoring Roberto and made a wince of disgust. “I only knew your father was alive. That’s all I knew. And I only found that out on Thursday. It was killing me to keep this from you and that's why I couldn't come and work on Fri. You needed to hear it from your mother.”
She chuckled through her tears. “That’s all, huh? That’s all you knew so that makes it okay you didn’t tell me. I know my mother means well, and so I sort of understand her warped logic. Although, we have a lot of talking to do." She looked over at Indigo who nodded vigorously. "But, I guess I don’t know you. I thought we had something special. I was in love with you. But you’re just a lying Hollywood hack. And I fell for it.”
Dean had been taking tiny tentative steps toward her upheld hands, but he stopped short. His face flushed deeply. He said one word, “Hazel,” and then spun and strode away from the garden, up the hill, and out of her life.
“He’s going back to California tomorrow,” Atillio said and turned to follow Dean.
Hazel dropped her hands and looked at the disgusting man lying snoring in the mud. That man wasn't her father. She would never have him in her life. She wanted nothing to do with him. It all made sense now, Indigo's constant need for cash in Jacksonville, the withdrawal from the bank here in Borgotaro. This man had given up his daughters for the sake of money. He'd signed an agreement to never see them again so he could keep getting that money. The worst part was, it had come right from Hazel's pockets.
46
Hazel
This surely was the end of the world. She was just considering what she should do with her drunk father on the lawn when the carabinieri arrived, summoned by Atillio, no doubt. They shook their heads at Hazel and Stefano in shared sympathy as they picked up the snoring Roberto from the grass and carried him to the waiting police car.
The last cop to leave took a drag on his cigarette, which he admirably had managed to continue smoking during the entire operation. He pointed it toward the car and Roberto. “He is always this way.”
It was time for a heart to heart with her mother, and it wasn’t something that Hazel was looking forward to. These last few days had just seemed like one crisis after another; each horror story chipping away at the foundation of her life until she was left with only a crumbling ruin. She wasn’t even sure what was real anymore.
Indigo hadn’t gone very far. When Hazel and Stefano walked back into the kitchen, there was Indigo sitting at the table, a teapot in the center and three mugs in front of three places. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said dispiritedly.
“I’ll go upstairs,” Stefano said, “This is business for family.”
Indigo stood up and grabbed Stefano’s hand as he tried to pass. “No, Stefano. You stay. You’re family too. Hazel needs all the support she can get, and she may not want me.”
Hazel’s first instinct was to go to her room, close the drapes and sink into a blissfully unconscious sleep. Sleep would make all of this go away. But her mother’s pleading face stopped her. Hazel was angry, yes, but she was mostly sad; sad that her mother had lived all of her life with these huge secrets she couldn’t share. Her mother was a little nutty, sure, but she didn’t have a spiteful bone in her body. This had been one major mistake, one it would take Hazel a long time to process, but she would work through it, with Indigo. Right now who else did she have? She pulled out a chair and sat down, folding her arms across her chest.
Indigo took a breath and began to confess. “I loved him madly and completely. He swept me off my feet.”
Stefano reached out for the teapot and fill
ed the mugs. Hazel wrapped her hands around the steamy mug; it was too hot outside for drinking tea, but it grounded her.
“I was pregnant with you when I left Borgotaro, Hazel." She took a shaky breath but smiled at the memory, "I’d been living in this house for two years. His mother begged me to stay. She thought a family would be a sobering influence on Roberto, but by then I knew how toxic his behavior was. I didn’t want to bring a baby into that environment. He followed me back to the US and begged me to give him another chance. And I let him stay. He had jobs off and on but mostly he was like that,” she waved her hand toward the garden. “He burned through any money we made; gambling it away. His mother sent me money every month just so we could keep up with our rent on our crappy little apartments. She was a wonderful woman, Maria. I loved her as though she were my own mother, and she loved me right back. I think she loved me more than Roberto, really.” Indigo chuckled and took a sip of her tea. “I know that I loved him more than she did. She knew he was broken way before I had figured it out.”
“Why don’t I remember him?” Hazel asked.
“I made sure you didn’t, sweetie. He wasn’t a good dad for you.”
She ignored the obvious question, wasn’t that my decision, and instead asked, “What happened then?”
“Well, then your sister was born, wasn’t she? And while your Dad could put up with one little person taking all the attention away from him, he couldn’t put up with two. He took off.”
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