Beppe must have heard her, because he started making progress. In three days he regained consciousness and was transferred out of intensive care. Gia would leave the hospital only to go home for a shower and a change of clothes, before rushing back to his side. Beppe slept a lot as his body healed, but as soon as he was able to talk, he asked what happened. Why was he in hospital and where were his parents? It was obvious he didn’t remember much about that night, because when Gia explained to him what little she herself knew, his eyes rounded with shock. Then, he appeared to just shut down. He displayed no other reaction. When Gia finished talking, he simply nodded and closing his eyes drifted off to sleep.
For a moment Gia wondered if he would remember anything she’d said.
Beppe’s empty stare scared her. She’d never seen him this way. Even after his father’s worst assaults, there had been so much emotion in Beppe’s eyes – fear, regret, pain, anger, sorrow.
Finally, Marco Orsino had managed to break his son’s spirit.
But not kill him.
Beppe was alive. He would get better . She would make sure of it.
******
Beppe woke up feeling as though something was off. It was way too quiet. The number of machines hooked to his body had been reduced. The TV was off and judging by the soft light coming from the window to his left, it was early evening.
But it was Gia not being there that was different. Every single time he’d opened his eyes, she’d been there. Just as he was about to panic and press the button for the nurse to ask where Gia was and if something had happened, the door swung open. Believing it was Gia coming back, Beppe relaxed and smiled as he looked towards the door.
He wasn’t expecting to see Max.
He was slouched against the door frame, barely inside the room, looking like shit. His clothes were creased and filthy, his hair was a greasy mess, his skin was pasty and his dull eyes appeared to have sunken into his skull. Beppe gazed at him in disbelief. He could not believe how much his friend had changed in such a short amount of time. Two weeks ago? Or three? He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in the hospital, but he’d seen Max a few days before... everything happened.
God, this was such a mess. Max needed his help and he couldn’t give him anything.
Beppe was drained, both physically and emotionally. He didn’t have anything left to give.
A tear rolled down the side of his face as he realised how helpless he was right now.
They stared at one another for a moment before Max shook himself. He banged his head on the side of the door frame and his eyes widened as if he was suddenly brought back to reality. Without uttering a single word he stumbled out the door and ran away.
******
When Beppe had been transferred to the recovery unit, a doctor had come to talk to Gia. They’d sat in the plush chairs in the lounge as they discussed what would happen to Beppe once discharged. He had just turned seventeen last month and he needed a legal guardian. If there was no immediate family, he’d have to go into the system. Beppe still needed to give his account of events to the police as well, but the doctor assured her they were not allowed to talk to him just yet.
For the next three weeks, Gia was unable to think of anything else.
If Beppe went into the system they could send him anywhere in the country. Leaving Genoa, leaving Gia, was not an option. Her first thought was to ask her mum to be his guardian. But they probably wouldn't approve it – a single mother, recently widowed, away on business all the time - but it might win them some time until a decision could be made. Then, if rejected, Gia could apply to be his guardian. After all, she was nineteen.
That application might buy them enough time that once it made it through the bureaucratic hoops, Beppe would be eighteen. If they could just stall the system for about ten more months everything would be fine.
Gia paced the hallway in front of Beppe’s room because she needed space to think of a plan without disturbing his rest. In the end she decided that the best choice would be to find a lawyer and consult him. Gia didn’t know all the appropriate channels, rules and legislations concerning legal guardianship, but she’d never forgive herself if her lack of experience and knowledge sent Beppe halfway across the country.
Deep in thought, Gia almost missed the nurse who, followed by a tall, dark-haired man walked right past her and headed straight for Beppe’s room. Panic flared in Gia’s heart and she ran towards the couple, catching up to them and halting their progress to the room.
“Excuse me,” she began, locking eyes with the man who must have been in his late sixties. She took an involuntary step back as recognition flared in her eyes, because the man in front of her looked exactly like Beppe would in about forty years. Gia’s eyes must have given away her reaction, along with her slack jaw, because the man turned to give his thanks to the nurse for showing him his grandson’s room and, taking the hint, the nurse left.
“I’m Paolo Salvatore, Giuseppe’s grandfather. You must be Gia. The staff informed me you’ve been caring for Giuseppe while he’s been recovering,” the man said politely, extending his hand towards Gia.
Anger immediately consumed her manners and good sense, and Gia folded her arms over her chest and glared at him.
“While he’s been recovering? I’ve been looking out for Beppe since he was six years old! I was the one who tended to his wounds when his father beat him, I was the one who took him to the hospital when they were too severe to be treated at home. I was the one who held his hand when he cried. I was the one who convinced him none of this was his fault,” Gia spit out while shaking with barely controlled rage.
He went as pale as a sheet and Gia thought he’d faint where he stood. His hands shook as he ran them through his graying temples.
“Oh my God,” he whispered and his eyes searched for something. He saw the few chairs in the small waiting area nearby and headed towards them. He picked one and sank down heavily. Gia followed and sat beside him – she was far from finished.
“If you think that just because you didn’t know this was happening is any excuse for abandoning your own daughter and grandson in the hands of a monster, you’re very much mistaken.”
“I didn’t know...” he said and focused his pleading, distressed dark eyes at Gia.
“I don’t give a fuck. Like I said, that’s no excuse. You can’t just show up here and claim to be Beppe’s grandfather who comes to his rescue when you’ve been absent his whole life.” Gia knew she sounded cruel even to her own ears, but she couldn't help it. How could this man show up after all this time and pretend to care about Beppe?
“Giuseppe is my grandson. I’m his only living relative,” Paolo said, his eyes becoming determined and so much like Beppe’s. “I respect the fact that you’re trying to protect Giuseppe and I’m beyond thankful for everything you’ve done for him over the years. But when I saw what had happened on the news... I couldn't stay away any longer. I’ve lost my daughter. I've come to claim her body. But I have also come to claim my grandson Giuseppe who is not eighteen yet and needs a guardian.”
“No fucking way! You’re not taking Beppe away! My family and I will take care of him, just like we’ve always done.” Gia jumped off the chair and instinctively stepped back towards Beppe’s room.
“Why don’t we let him decide? I won’t drag him away kicking and screaming. But I want to talk to him and try to convince him to come with me willingly.”
“He’ll never come with you.”
“We’ll see.”
Paolo stood up and headed for Beppe’s room. He entered, closing the door behind him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Beppe was so tired of feeling dizzy and disoriented every time he woke up. He didn’t know what day it was, how long he’d been here already or when he was last awake. He wasn't even sure how long ago it was that his best friend Max had been hovering in the doorway. God, he had looked like shit. Beppe really wished he had said something to make him stay...
The door jerked open just then and a man he didn't know entered his room. He was probably in his sixties, but he looked strong and intimidating. His hair was graying at the temples, but it was thick and well maintained. He was tall with broad shoulders and had the most intelligent, piercing dark eyes.
Beppe narrowed his eyes, examining the man quizzically, trying to figure out why he seemed so familiar. He was sure he’d never seen him before. The sudden realization shocked all his senses fully awake.
Beppe was the spitting image of that man standing before him, watching him with soulful, dark eyes.
The man strode to the side of Beppe’s bed, his eyes roving over him, drinking him in.
“Hello, Giuseppe. I’m Paolo Salvatore, your grandfather,” he said and took a seat in a chair next to the bed.
Beppe could only stare with wonder at this man who was his grandfather. Why had his mother never told him he looked exactly like her father? How could she keep him away from his grandparents? A million other thoughts skittered through his mind, but the one that overwhelmed them all was: this man was his nonno. Beppe wasn’t all alone in the world after all.
Beppe had never met any of his mother’s family. They disowned her when she chose to marry his father and true to their word, none of them made any contact.
His mother may have realised her mistake in choosing Marco soon after they were married but, Nerina had been a proud woman. She never complained, even after she succumbed to depression and domestic abuse. She never packed her bags to run home to her mum and dad. Beppe had often wondered what his grandparents were like. Would they have stepped in and helped Nerina if they’d known what Marco was doing ?
I guess now I have a chance to find out.
“Hello,” Beppe replied warily, and Paolo’s eyes softened.
“I’m sorry about what happened, Beppe. We never knew Marco was harming your mother. We knew he was a lazy, ignorant, selfish son of a bitch – yes. But we never even considered...” he took a deep shuddering breath to stop his voice from quaking. It was obvious Paolo wasn’t comfortable with displaying too much emotion. Beppe waited patiently for him to collect himself.
“We thought he loved her. We may not have felt he was good enough for our only daughter, but we thought he loved her. She gave up everything for him...” he trailed off and looked away.
“It’s OK. It’s not your fault.”
“It is partly our fault. Our pride got in the way of our love. We deserted our daughter, didn’t even find it in our hearts to forgive her when she sent us a photo of you when you were born. We didn’t reply and she never sent another. My wife never got over losing Nerina. But we always assumed she was happy and found some comfort in that.”
Beppe stared at the ceiling for a few moments before replying.
“It’s in the past now. There’s no point in placing blame. A lot of things could have been different, but we can’t change anything now.”
Paolo nodded and looked a bit surprised. Beppe realised his grandfather must have been predicting a far different reaction from him – anger, denial, blame. A calm acceptance of the tragic situation, hell, the tragic life Beppe had lived, was definitely not what the man had been expecting.
“You’re right. We can’t change the past. But we can make up for it.” Paolo paused, all uncertainty leaving his dark eyes as they focused on Beppe, determination sparkling in them. “I’d like you to come live with me in Tuscany.”
Beppe was speechless. Of all the thoughts running through his mind, his grandfather suggesting he live with him had never been one of them. He wasn't sure what to say. Was this something he wanted?
“I... I can’t leave...” Beppe began as his eyes slipped away from his grandfather’s. He was trying to find it in him to argue, or even care.
Of course he didn’t want to leave Gia. Or Max, especially after he’d seen him. They both needed him, but Beppe was so tired. He didn't have it in him to fight now; there was nothing he could do for them.
“Yes, you can. I realise you don’t want to leave your friends, but there’s nothing left for you here, son.”
Son.
His father had never called him that. Not once in his life.
Beppe felt his eyes well up. He was too embarrassed to cry in front of his grandfather, especially having only met the man ten minutes ago. He turned his head away and tried to get a grip on his emotions.
The warm hand over his own startled him and Beppe jerked his head to look at it. That was when the first tear fell, quickly followed by another.
“It’s OK to cry, Giuseppe. It doesn’t make you any less strong,” his grandfather said softly.
Beppe nodded as another tear spilled down his cheek, and moved his eyes from the hand clasping his, up to his grandfather’s face. Paolo’s eyes were a glassy, but Beppe had no doubt his grandfather was much better at reining in his emotions. “I believe that this is my chance to atone for everything I’ve done. Let me take care of you, son. Let me help you. It’s never too late to get our lives back on track, but sometimes we just need time to heal.”
Beppe didn’t say anything. He closed his eyes and nodded. He knew Paolo was right, but couldn’t help the pang of guilt he felt as he thought of leaving Gia and Max behind.
******
“What do you mean you’re going with him? You don't even know him!” Gia tried to keep her voice even but Beppe’s statement that he was going with his grandfather when he got discharged threw her off balance. She got up from the chair she had been sitting in and paced nervously about the room.
“I’m going to live with him in Tuscany for a while. I am going to get to know him”
“But... You can’t leave!” She tried to think of a more constructive argument, a reason for him to stay.
I love you so much. I can’t let you go.
“I have to, Gia. I can’t stay here. I’m tired and... I feel empty. I know you need me, but I have nothing left to give right now.” Beppe swallowed hard as if saying that physically pained him. “I need time away from here. I need to heal.” Beppe looked at Gia helplessly.
“I’m selfish, I realise that, but Beppe... I can’t cope without you. I don’t know how. You’ve always been there for me...” Gia came to sit on the edge of Beppe’s bed and eyed him pleadingly.
“You can and you will. You have your studying and your internship and your goals. You have a brother who needs you. You’ll be fine. I’m always just a phone call away, Gia. And you can visit. It’s not like I am moving to New Zealand, you know.”
Gia managed a sad smile before her lips quavered and she started crying. Beppe reached out to pull her gently to his chest with her head tucked under his chin. His fingers played with the strands of her hair while she sobbed.
She knew he was right. He needed to run as far away from here as he could. He needed to rest and to heal and to experience something good for a change. He needed a family who cared about him and a home he wasn’t afraid to go back to. He needed to think about himself first for once.
Gia needed to focus on her own mess of a life right now. She could do this on her own. She didn’t need anyone. Not anymore.
She needed to let Beppe go.
******
The first few weeks after Beppe had gone to Tuscany were the worst. Gia’s eyes would fill with tears unexpectedly and without any provocation. Her heart was so full of sadness that it looked for any kind of release.
But the release never came. Even after crying until she had no tears left, the tight band squeezing around her chest never eased.
Gia’s internship at ‘Il Scapolo’ finished shortly after she returned to work. She then started her second year at ICA and threw all of her energy and focus into her lectures and getting good grades. But it didn't help. She spoke with Beppe on the phone almost every night, but even that did not make the emptiness of his absence any better. Every time they talked she tried to control herself and not let her emotions get the better of her, even though hearing his voic
e and not being able to touch him, kiss him, whisper how much she loved him was killing her.
Many nights she woke up so shaken by the need to feel Beppe close to her that her every nerve ending tingled with pain. She craved his touch like a drug addict in withdrawal. Gia would reach frantically for her phone and dial Beppe’s number with trembling hands. The ringing always seemed to go on forever while she waited for Beppe to pick up.
“Gia? Is everything OK?” She'd hear his sleepy voice and that was all it would take to make her break down. “Baby, you’re scaring me. Please say something.”
“I miss you so much it hurts to breathe.”
“Amore...” Beppe would suck in a tortured breath and Gia was sure he was crying as well.
They didn't need to say anything else and Gia was never sure how she’d fallen back to sleep, but when she woke up the next morning she always had the phone clutched firmly in her hand.
Beppe invited Gia to visit every time they spoke, yet every time she refused. If it was so hard to hang up the phone and severe the connection she had with his voice, how could she leave when she actually saw him, touched him, kissed him? It would be impossible and she knew it – she’d already let him go once, there was no way she could ever do it again.
Beppe called Gia about a week before his eighteenth birthday. It was a Sunday and she was lying on the sofa, browsing through the channels when she looked at the display and smiled before picking up.
Then, Now, Forever (Heartbeat #2) Page 5