Her lips turn up in a smile. “You must be her son. She talks about you all the time.”
“I am.”
“And this is your girlfriend, I presume?”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to reply. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. One summer, man. One summer is all you get.
“Do you know where we can find Mrs. Grawski?” Em asks, saving me from answering the question.
“She’s currently in painting class. You can walk through this hallway to the right,” the receptionist says. “But let me call first.”
I let go of Em’s hand and she frowns, but then smiles again. “I can see why your mom loves to come here. It’s so peaceful: the soft music, the high ceilings, the mountains all around.”
“It is definitely more peaceful than the war zone at home.”
The receptionist hangs up the phone and gestures to the beige couches. “Mrs. Grawski will step out of her painting class to welcome you.”
Before we can even sit, I hear mom’s voice. “Nicholas!” She hurries our way. Em tenses next to me but I whisper, “Thanks for being here. Thanks for coming.”
I stand up and hug Mom. It’s quick and formal but it’s still a hug. “Happy Birthday, Mom!”
“Where is your father?” she asks and my shoulders slump. Why does it have to be the first thing she asks? Not a “how are you?” or anything. But then she gives me another hug. “He’s probably working. I’m so happy you drove all the way. That’s the best birthday gift.” And she sounds happy. Really happy to see me. I relax.
“Em came with me,” I say, and Em stands up.
“You’re even lovelier than what I remember, Emilia.” Mom air-kisses Em’s cheeks and then glances at me “Are you two finally an item?”
I frown, but before I can answer Em blabbers, “We’ve been hanging out.”
Oh. So that’s the explanation we’re giving people. Good to know. Fuck, why did I want to proudly announce, Yes, we’re finally dating and it’s awesome.
Mom puts her hand on my forearm. “Let’s go drink some tea, outside. There is such a nice breeze up here.”
She links her other arm with Em, and, together, we go drink tea. We go and pretend that there’s nothing wrong with this picture and that everything is great.
We’re good at pretending.
CHAPTER 23 – EM
The drive back from the spa was more silent, less festive and when Nick dropped me off at Nonna’s, I kissed him with as much tenderness as I could. I wanted him to come eat dinner with us tonight, but he wants to go home. He’s tired. And I think he’s more worried about his parents’ marriage than he’s letting on.
I push Nonna’s restaurant door open.
“Emilia! Belissima, this dress is beautiful! You look so happy.” Nonna hugs me and I relish in her embrace—it’s so much warmer than the hug Nick got from his mom. Once more, I realize how lucky I am. She winks. “Does that smile have to do with the amount of time you’re spending with Nicholas?”
“Nonna,” I say and then kiss her cheek. “How is it going with Mr. Edwards?”
“A lady never kisses and tells,” she replies, laughing, and I follow her in the kitchen.
“What’s for dinner tonight?”
“Pasta Bolognese. Come on, everyone’s already here.”
And I step inside the restaurant. I wave to the regulars and stroll between customers to sit at our table.
“Hi,” I say.
“Em, I want you to meet Giovanni,” Roberto says, and a tall boy who has one of the warmest smiles I’ve ever seen stands up.
“Very nice to meet you,” he says and his accent is as warm as his smile.
I sit down between Mom and Giovanni. Mom squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry we’re hitting a rough patch. But I meant what I told you, darling. I will help you as much as I can. We’re not lying to you.”
Maybe you’re not, I think, but don’t say anything.
Instead, I look at the people gathering around the table and smile. Because, right now, as confused as I am, I’m grateful they’re my family.
Three days later, I meet Nick after his internship. The temperatures are still soaring, but when he gives me a quick hug, I don’t want it to end.
We start strolling in no particular direction. “Let’s go to Central Park,” Nick suggests and his arm brushes against mine. Our eyes meet and we both smile. It’s funny how we’ve danced and kissed and kissed and kissed, but a simple touch still makes me breathless.
We don’t hold hands in public. Especially so close to where people might see us. And even though I’ve been trying to pretend I don’t care, my chest constricts. I stare at my feet for a second.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Fine,” I lie, thinking about what Roberto told me the other day, how he and Giovanni don’t have an expiration date on their relationship, how they looked so happy and in love yesterday. Our relationship is doomed in a few short weeks.
Nick bumps his hip to mine. “Do you want an ice cream? Come on, Em, you love Grom’s pistachio ice cream. We could go to their shop by Colombus Circle.” His hand touches my back briefly and I want to lean into him, I want to feel his arm around me.
“Ice cream, it is.” I shake my head from all unwanted thoughts.
If only our relationship was as easy as a lick of ice cream.
CHAPTER 24 – NICK
After sitting under a tree in Central Park, I get a text from Dad that he will be leaving for a meeting late afternoon, so he won’t be home for dinner. Not like I usually expect him to be home for dinner. Not that we had dinner together in the past months. But whatever. That might be his way of trying to reconnect, but it’s really the perfect opportunity to check his office more thoroughly.
We walk in front of his office, and the door’s wide open. He’s sorting through a bunch of papers. “Good afternoon, Emilia,” he says and she startles.
“Good afternoon, sir.” She never called my father by his first name. And I guess she’s not about to start now. The way her hands are curled up into fists by her side and the way she’s pursing her lips are clear signs that she’s pissed, but trying to contain her anger.
My father clears his throat. “I understand you went with my son to visit my wife. She was happy to see you. She was happy to see him. Thank you for doing that.”
Em turns to me for a second with eyes so wide I wonder if she’s seeing things I can’t. Then, she looks at my father, her eyes narrowing like she’s trying to figure him out. “I think it was important for Nick.”
My father tilts his head to the side. “Indeed you’re right. And I should have been there.”
Say what? What is going on?
Em nods and even though her shoulders have relaxed, her posture is still tense. She squeezes my hand. “Yes, you should have. Have a good day, sir.”
“Emilia?” my dad calls again. “Your parents did a great job raising you. Never forget that.”
“Thank you, and I never will.”
“Don’t stay up too late, kids. We don’t want a repeat from the Fourth of July,” Dad says and I think he’s almost smiling.
We hurry up the stairs into my room, and I turn to Em. “That was hot. You telling my dad exactly how it is took some guts. And man you’re sexy when you’re angry.”
She smiles and I put my arms around her, her back against the door. “I want to kiss you so badly right now.”
“So, why don’t you?” She licks her lips.
“Because if I kiss you right now, in my bedroom...”
“Pssh...don’t overthink this,” she says and pulls me to her. Our lips collide and our tongues dance together. Her hand trails down my back and sneaks underneath my shirt.
I slow the kiss down, enjoying the way she tastes, the way she touches me. My own hands caress her, and I want to feel her closer. I want to feel all of her. I force myself to stop kissing her for a second. “You’re killing me,” I say and she smiles again—this
time her smile is more shy, less self-assured, and I kiss her again to show her how much I want this, how much I want her.
Both of my hands cup her face and I deepen the kiss until she moans.
And then, I tug her, walking backwards until my calves hit my bedframe. She falls on top of me and if I don’t stop or think about something gross right now—my parents having sex, ewww—I will explode here and there. It’s not my first time, far from it, but it almost feels like it.
She peppers kisses on my neck. She’s breathing hard and her hand tentatively goes further down and down and down. And I’m going to combust.
I turn so that I’m now on top of her, holding my weight on my forearms. Her face is flushed, her mouth is half open.
“We can continue—please tell me you want to continue,” I say and I watch her reaction, I don’t want to push her. She’s staring at me like she wants me but then, she glances away and I can see the doubt in the way she bites her lip. I force my voice to not sound too disappointed as I tell her, “Or we can play video games until he leaves.”
She sighs. “Video games.” She sounds disappointed, but she’s definitely not as disappointed as me. But then I remember. Do not take it too far.
Except, as we settle on the floor and she cuddles up to me and we both start hiding from zombies in the game we haven’t played in forever, laughing at the way some of them are super walkers, laughing at some of the designs, talking about the TV shows we wished we had time to watch, I know, it’s too late.
I’m already way too into her. We’ve gone too far.
.
CHAPTER 25 - EM
After an hour, Nick turns to me. “You’re way too good at this game. Rob taught you how to beat me, didn’t he?”
I stick out my tongue. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’ll never tell.” I laugh, but then sigh as I remember why I’m technically here. Even though the making-out session was more delicious than I could have ever imagined, even though playing video games with Nick is always fun, we need to look through the paperwork, we need to dig in his dad’s office.
He stands up. “Come on, we don’t have much time. His late afternoon meetings can last anywhere from a few hours to all night.”
We shuffle downstairs and push the door to the office. It’s locked. “He only locks it before a big case, but he doesn’t have a big case right now.” He pauses. “Let me ask Sarina if she can open it.”
He hurries into the kitchen where Sarina—their maid—is finishing up her work day, and he comes back with a key. “He’s going to know we’re going into his office because he asked Sarina to tell him if I ever, ever asked for the key.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Even more now than before,” he says and turns the key, opens the door. The office is clean—super clean, there are no papers anywhere, but Nick opens shelves and drawers, pulling files out, reading them carefully before putting them back.
“Take the right side, I’ll take the left one,” he says.
I drag my feet to where he points, feeling uncomfortable looking through his dad’s paperwork. “Hey, he’s got the picture you made for him in fifth grade.” I pick up a drawing in a frame standing on a shelf.
“Probably to show off to whoever comes here that he’s a good father,” Nick replies.
“Don’t be so tough on him. We don’t know why he’s hiding whatever he’s hiding.”
“I can’t believe you’re defending him.”
“I’m not. It’s just— He’s your father, that’s all.”
“I know,” Nick says and continues to storm through the paperwork. I, on the other hand, am very careful with everything I touch. I’m going to need ten hours to go through one drawer.
Nick suddenly screams, “I found it! Of course, he put the file with the personal files, not with the business files.” But then he shakes his head as he pulls out some paperwork. “There are only a few pieces of paper. Wait.” He focuses on one piece of paper. “There’s a birth certificate.”
“I have my birth certificate. Mom gave it to me when I started searching. Show me.” I cross the room to where he is. I scan through it. It doesn’t make any sense. “My birth certificate says my name is Jane Doe. It says I was born as Jane Doe.”
Nick pats my arm, pulls me to him, until my head finds its spot in the crook of his neck. “Dad lied to me. He lied to me. My mom’s not Jane Doe. She didn’t abandon me like he said. My mom really is Claire Carter. And my name’s Caroline Carter.” Tears I didn’t see coming fall down my cheek and I sob. “I don’t feel like a Caroline. I’m not Caroline, I’m Emilia.”
Nick hugs me tighter. “You are who you want to be. You’re my Emilia.”
I cry in his arms for what seems like forever. I talk to him for what seems like forever, but the time’s ticking and I have to get home soon. “I don’t want you to be alone,” he says. And I almost hope he’s going to tell me I can sleep over, but instead he pulls his cell out.
“Rob,” he says after a second. “Can you come and pick Em up?” He pauses and frowns. “I haven’t done anything. She needs you, man. She needs her brother.” He kisses the top of my head and cradles me in his arms. “We’re at my place. Okay, we’re waiting for you.”
He hangs up.
“I don’t want to see him,” I say and I sound like a whiny five-year-old version of myself.
“You shouldn’t be alone right now,” Nick repeats. “You’re going to want answers, and Rob will be there for you.”
“How about you?” I ask and I want to bite my tongue.
“I want to talk to my dad. He can’t lie to me with those papers in my hands.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Thank you for being you.”
The doorbell rings only a few minutes later and as soon as Rob sees me, he pulls me into a hug. “What’s wrong?” he asks and the tears come back.
“Dad lied. He lied about my adoption. He knows who my mom is.”
“What???” Roberto stares at me.
“Dad lied,” I repeat.
Roberto shakes his head. “I can’t believe it.”
“It’s true,” I say and my tears turn into sob.
Roberto caresses my hair. “Let’s go home, let’s talk about all this at home.” His voice sounds like he’s unsure if he should believe me or not, but he’s also not letting go of me. He’s supporting me. Like he always does.
With his arm around my shoulder, he turns to Nick. “Thanks for taking care of her, man. I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t. I owe you one if you make sure she gets home safely and that she’s okay. Take care of her.” Nick sounds serious and they shake hands. It’s like they have a new understanding, one I’m not entirely privy to.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Nick tells me and he kisses me. In front of my brother. Like it means something.
If I wasn’t so sad, my heart would swell.
Roberto and I head back home and I tell him everything on the way. He sounds too surprised to be in on whatever is going on, and based on what Nick overheard from his parents arguing on the phone, Mom didn’t have a clue about Claire Carter.
It leaves Dad.
As soon as we get inside the house, I call his name. I sound drunk, but it’s only my pain talking. He stumbles down the stairs, his dark hair sticking everywhere. Not looking like the savvy businessman he usually is.
I blurt much louder than I intended to, “Is Claire Carter my mother?”
Mom follows him downstairs and her eyes widen. “What is she saying? Em, what are you talking about? Your mom abandoned you. We don’t know who she is.”
My father’s shoulders slump. “Yes, your mom is Claire Carter. I paid money for you.” He turns to Mom. “I didn’t want you to know, Amanda. She was ready to auction off her baby.” He bores his eyes into mine. “She was ready to auction you. I couldn’t let her do that.”
Mom pales and she leans against the wall as if she needed the support. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why go
through all the trouble to make me believe we went through an agency?” She sounds breathless. We jumped through hoops. We...”
Dad tries to take her hand, but Mom shakes it away from him. His face falls and his shoulders slump. I haven’t seen him this defeated even when he lost his job. “You said you didn’t want to know who the mother was at the time. And it’s complicated.”
Mom stares at him. “Tell me now, Dino. Tell us now.”
“It was a hard situation. That’s all there is to know. Please, trust me, that’s all there is to know.”
I’m about to ask questions, when Mom beats me to it. “I don’t believe you,” she says. Her voice rising. “There’s more to the story than this. Otherwise, why hide it from me?”
“You would have wanted to go through everything the proper way. You wouldn’t have wanted our money to help us the way it did. You would have told me to go to the police.” He protests. “You would have done everything right, but that would have meant Em might not be part of our family.”
Mom’s mouth gapes open and she glances at me, and I want to find a way to reassure her, to tell her I love her, so I simply force my lips into a small smile before turning my full attention back to my father.
“I don’t understand,” I say. “You bought me. Basically, that’s what you’re saying. You bought me.”
“We saved you,” he insists. “No one can say anything about the paperwork. The documents are real. You’re our daughter. We played with the rules, we stretched the rules. Some might say we broke the rules. The guy...” He struggles to speak as if the words are too painful. “Your...your birth father didn’t know about the adoption at first. And then when he found out, he blackmailed us. Charles helped to take care of everything. The confidentiality agreements, making sure all paperwork was done. We played on the sidelines of the law.” He pauses, sighs deeply. “But I don’t regret anything.” His voice is so sure of himself at this moment, that I’m not certain what to think, how to feel. I still have many questions, so many unanswered questions.
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