by Swann, Rylee
“Yeah, and it was hot.” I can’t help chuckling and getting a little hot in my cheeks at the memory. “But it obviously wasn’t the right time to tell him about me being pregnant.”
The twins are squabbling over something, getting loud and having a tug-of-war over some action figure.
“I’m sorry. Give me a minute.” Cris gets up and plucks the toy out of their hands—I can see now that it’s Captain America—and separates them. “What did I tell you two about sharing, hmm?”
They stare at her with big eyes. Angela looks like she’s about to cry and Anthony is red-faced. Cris gives him a car and her a Barbie doll and that seems to pacify them, at least for the time being. She kisses each of them on the top of their heads and rejoins me on the sofa. She smiles apologetically at me, and motions for me to continue.
“Well, that’s it. He was drunk and I need to find a better time to tell him,” I finish, my voice feeble.
“I know there’s more to it than that.” Lines crease her forehead. “Great sex and a simple missed opportunity wouldn’t make you cry.”
“No… oh gosh. He’s been distant lately. Not coming around as much. You know he won’t even use the key to my apartment I gave him.” I take another shuddering breath. “Oh, Cris, I’m so scared I’m losing him. Then what will I do? Have his baby without him?”
“Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry you’re going through this.” She goes back to one-arm hugging me while keeping one eye on the children. “You know what you have to do, right?”
I don’t respond, too lost in my pain.
“Jae. You have to talk to him. Be frank, tell him what you’re feeling. I honestly think he’s in love with you. I see how he looks at you. I know that look. It’s the same one Dom gave me. But if something’s wrong, you need to fix it right away. Don’t let it fester.”
“I don’t want him to stay with me just because of the baby.” I blurt this out and grab another tissue to staunch a new flow of tears.
“Of course not. That’s why you have to have this talk with him first.” She stands and goes to the kitchen, returning a moment later with some ice water and pushing it into my hand. “It’s better to know now anyway, but I think your fears are groundless.”
I take a long sip. The ice clinks the sides of the glass and a drop slides down the outside. “I hope so. I love him so much.”
“I know, sweetie.”
The sound of the front door opening and closing has us both looking up in surprise. Dom enters the room and the children scream with glee.
“Daddy! Daddy!”
Dom laughs and holds out a finger to Anthony. “Bang!”
A fit of giggles overtakes the boy as he puts a hand over his heart.
“Up, up, Daddy!” Angela stands and lifts her arms.
He scoops her up into his strong arms. “There’s my big girl.” He smiles, his love for her evident, and settles her on a hip before turning to Cris and me. He assesses the scene immediately, frown lines creasing his tired but still handsome face. “What did Gian do? I swear I’ve had it with him today.”
“What happened?” Cris rises and goes to him. He hugs her with his free hand and they kiss while Angela giggles in between them.
“He was being an ass.”
“Dom, language.” Cris shakes her head and, taking Angela from his arms, directs the twins to another room.
He runs a hand through his hair. “Sorry. Anyway, he wasn’t prepared for a presentation and when Max tried to talk to him about it he was rude. Max was pissed and brought it to me.” He pinches the bridge of his nose with a couple of fingers. “It was a bad day all around. Gian and I got into a stupid fight. Something’s going on with him. And now I see Jae here crying. It can’t be a coincidence.”
“He must have been feeling terrible,” I say and they both turn to me.
“Him?” Dom growls. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
“No, I mean he was hungover.” I wince. “That’s probably why he was in a foul mood. Not that that’s any excuse,” I add quickly.
Dom runs his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated. “Fuck, what is wrong with that kid? Drinking in the middle of the week, fucking up his job.” He fixes me with an intense dominant stare. “Why are you crying?”
My mouth opens automatically to answer, the tone of his voice making it impossible to refuse him.
“Dom, that’s too personal.” Cris jumps to my defense. “I don’t think—”
“No, Cris, it’s alright.” I surprise myself, but think this is the right thing to do. Dom and I have been friends for years. I helped him when he needed to seal the deal with Cris. Now maybe he can do the same for me.
“Are you sure, sweetie?” Cris says gently, the depth of her concern washing over me. “Dom doesn’t have to know everything, you know.”
Dom huffs, which makes me chuckle and grow sad at the same time. Johnny looks so much like his older brother, it’s almost like he’s here with us.
“I feel like Johnny is pulling away from me. Like I’m losing him.” I pause for breath and to fight back tears while Dom watches me closely. “And, if he is about to break up with me… I don’t know what I’ll do. I’m umm… going to have his baby.”
“Where is he?” Dom fumes. “I’m going to kill him.”
“No!” Cris and I say at the same time.
“I have to talk to him, please Dom. You can’t tell him about this. If he’s going to hear it from anyone it has to be me.”
Cris is nodding furiously.
Still angry, Dom studies me for a long moment before relaxing his posture. “I won’t tell him. I’m quite sure, though, that it’s not you, Jae. He loves you very much.”
“R-really?” More tears splash down my face. At the rate I’m going I’ll be completely dehydrated within minutes.
“Yes, really. I know that kid. He gladly gave up his man whore ways for you.” He shakes his head. He clearly loves his brother as much as he says Johnny loves me. “No, it’s something else. I tried to get it out of him today but he acted like an ass and stormed off. I have to find out what’s going on with him, but I won’t tell him about your situation. I agree it’s your news to share.”
“Thank you. You’ve already helped so much.”
I do feel better. If Dom’s right and Johnny doesn’t want to break up with me that’s the best news in the world.
Now, there’s just the matter of telling him about the baby.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Gian
I’m sober, yet have never wanted to throw up more.
After the disaster with Dom yesterday, I skipped work today. Not just because I didn’t want to face him or Max. No, I finally decided to call my parents and arrange a meeting with them. I realized I can’t let things go on the way they are. I can’t let this fuck up my life.
My job.
Jae.
I wince. I haven’t been treating her right and she’s the most important thing in my life. I’m surprised she hasn’t already kicked my ass to the curb.
I can’t let that happen.
She’s the main reason I’m sitting in this coffee shop. I haven’t been able to concentrate since my parents called out of the blue. I want to get back to putting all my attention on Jae. Fuck, she deserves it. She’s beautiful, smart, fun-loving, and puts up with my shit. She deserves a medal.
My parents gushing and shouting, “grazie bambimo grazie” again and again when I called them earlier still rings in my ear. It made me so crazy, I almost started to say, prego prego to calm them. I couldn’t take it anymore. I told them where and when to meet with me and hung up on them.
Taking another sip of my scalding black coffee, I scan the restaurant. At this hour of the afternoon, hardly anyone is here. And, none match what I think my elderly Italian parents would look like. Try as I might, I cannot recall an image of them from when I was little. Nothing comes to me. I find this strangely unsettling.
They should be here any second and my already
frayed nerves tie my insides up in knots. Fuck! I’m nervous. Where are they?
“Gian! Gian!”
Mamma?
I look up sharply, my heart thudding out of my chest. I know the voice. It’s thin and frail yet as young as time itself. On the phone, it meant nothing to me, but in person, it means everything. An image as clear as a YouTube video comes to me of a younger version of this woman feeding me, making airplane noises as the spoon flies closer and closer to my mouth. For a moment, I can’t breathe.
“Mamma.”
I stand as she and the man I suppose is my father shuffle to my table. They look older than I expected. They’re dressed in old, tattered clothing, a scarf around her head and a brown Stetson cap on his. They look like they just stepped out of a “wish you were here” Italian postcard.
She doesn’t hesitate—her wrinkled face alive with joy, her eyes lit up like fireworks—and comes right to me, smiling.
“Si, si, Gian, mio bel ragazzo! Mio bambino!”
She calls me her beautiful boy and tears blur my vision. I’m shocked by my reaction but there’s no time to think about it. My arms open of their own volition and my mamma steps into my embrace, her body solid and welcoming. Smelling her all too familiar jasmine scent continues to bring me back to my childhood, recalling flowers in planters all throughout our home.
She breaks away first, taking my face into her hands and kissing me on one cheek, then the other, and once more on the first for good measure. Looking down at her blue eyes in a smiling cherub face I can’t help but smile too. She’s strong featured with a sharp nose and high cheekbones. Her cheeks are sunken in now but her former beauty lies just beneath the skin. I lift a hand to brush a tear from her rouged cheek and she grabs it to kiss the back of my hand.
“I would know you anywhere, mio Gian. And you know me, too, si?” I nod. “Bene! You know your mamma! And here is your papa!”
She moves back and he comes closer. I stare at his benign face able only to see a monster, as he holds out his hand to me. Inwardly, I recoil. I won’t touch the filthy drunk even if he’s been sober for years. The bambino in me remembers.
The joyous moment turns awkward, until I take hold of my chair and sit, motioning for my mother to do the same. My father sits but Mamma stands there, a stern expression overtaking her face.
“Gian! This is your papa!” She starts to take my hand but he stops her with a word.
“Jole, leave him.” He raises a shaking hand for emphasis. “It is alright.”
Mamma tuts but stops and takes a seat at the table. The smile returns to her face but she glances to my father—Michele, I recall Dom telling me—as if waiting for him to take the lead. I detest the subservience of it but remind myself that they come from a much different era. I couldn’t picture my darling Jae waiting for my permission to speak.
“So, my boy.” I flinch at my father’s words. I don’t want him to be my father. I don’t want the memories of his drunken anger, the fights, the crying. They’re coming back to me in horrific clarity. “You have turned into a fine young man.” His voice is whisper-thin with a thick Italian accent. Yet I still sense power behind the outward frailty, like he could strike out at any moment for some unknown or made-up infraction. This, how he’s acting now, is a façade.
Ignoring him, I look at Mamma. “Why now? Why did you call me now?”
She nods a few times, as if expecting the question. “We missed you.”
My throat works over a lump I can’t seem to swallow past. Not knowing the answer to this question was what made me act like such an ass the past couple of weeks. “But…” I lick my lips. “So much time has already passed. I thought…”
I know what I thought. That they didn’t want me. Didn’t care that I’d been taken away. Were happy to be relieved of an unwelcome burden.
They missed me?
My world is rocked.
I don’t know a damned thing.
Is the sky still blue?
“Si, si, I know, it looks grave on us. A number of years ago Dominic started sending us money. Every month a check would come that helped to pay for food and other necessities. We were left with a way to contact him. And through him, you. But your brother is a proud, stubborn man and would have nothing to do with his mamma and papa other than sending the money.” She reaches out, patting my hand and leaving her hand on top of mine. “We thought, give it time and our Gian would find us too. When you didn’t, we finally said enough. We must come to you.”
I’m stunned. Too many emotions race through me all at once. Only yesterday, I accused Dom of not ever helping our parents. Why didn’t he tell me then? Why didn’t he ever let me know where they were?
Turning my hand over, I take hers in mine and squeeze. “Mamma, I didn’t know how to find you. If…”
“Bambino, si, I know.” She looks at me with a mother’s eyes, kind, sympathetic, loving. I didn’t know how much I missed those eyes until this moment. “We thought this might be the reason. Dominic likes to be in charge, si?”
“Si.” I laugh. If only they knew how much he enjoys being in charge. “Very much so.”
They laugh too and I do my best to stay focused on Mamma. I don’t want to see happiness in his face.
“Do you work with Dominic?” he asks, and I despise the invasion of privacy from him.
“Do you?” Mamma urges me to answer.
“Si, I do,” I say to her, not him.
“Bene, we knew he’d always take care of you.” She squeezes my hand gently. “Are you married?”
“No, but I’m dating a woman who I love very much.” My mood brightens as I think of Jae. It strikes me how surreal this conversation is. I never thought I’d be able to talk to my mother about the woman I love, the woman I just might want to marry. Looking into Mamma’s delighted face, I smile. This is what having more than only a brother feels like. I could get used to this.
“Bene! Tell us about her.” Mamma beams at me.
My father motions with a hand for me to continue. What an arrogant son of a bitch.
“Her name is Jaelin, Jae for short. You should hear her, Mamma. She has the voice of an angel. And, she’s beautiful, a goddess. I’m very lucky that she puts up with me.” I’m gushing like a middle school girl and pause to take a breath and collect myself.
My father grunts and Mamma chuckles. “You’re a good boy, Gian. How could she not love you, si? She is the lucky one!”
I stare at her for a moment, perplexed. “But you don’t even know me.”
She waves a hand. “Of course, I know you! You came from me, I know you best!”
Still feeling weird, but with a warmth growing inside me anyway, I shrug. “Okay, Mamma, you know me.” I lean toward her with a devilish smile. “Then what is my favorite color?”
She lets out another thin chuckle. “Ah, that is easy. It is rosso.” She looks at her husband. “Papa, where is my bag?”
He hands her a large shopping bag that he’d hung over the back of his chair. Taking it, she winks at me—actually winks!—and from its depths pulls out an old-fashioned bright red fire engine.
My mouth drops open. I’m once again rocked to my core.
“Gin-gin? That’s gin-gin, isn’t it?”
“Si, si. You couldn’t pronounce engine. This was your favorite toy.” She smiles and holds it out to me.
I didn’t remember gin-gin until a second ago but now memories flood me. I did love that toy truck and cried endlessly when it was discovered that Dom forgot to pack it. He bought me a different one but it was never the same. I mourned this stupid thing for weeks. Now it’s back and I marvel at how comfortable it feels in my hands as I take it from her.
“You will show your girl, your… Jaelin this toy and she will laugh with you, si?”
“Si… no, Mamma, you’ve had this for all these years. I can’t take it from you now.” I try to hand it back to her but she puts her hands up to push it away.
“It is yours. You take it.” For
just a moment, her voice is as strong as a brick wall. I nod and put the truck on the table beside my cooling cup of coffee. I feel a little foolish with a child’s toy next to me but the little boy inside me is jumping up and down with glee.
An almost comfortable silence settles between us and before anything more can be said that might ruin this meeting, I stand. Picking up gin-gin, I cradle it in the crook of my arm and bend to kiss my mother on the cheek.
“I gotta get going.”
She nods, grasping both my hands in hers and kissing them. “We will see you soon?” I agree with a nod, not sure if I mean it or not. I have a lot to process. “Bene, mio bel ragazzo. Gian, make up with your papa, per favore?” She looks up at me with pleading, watery eyes and my heart clenches.
No! What is wrong with you? He hurt you, Mamma!
I glance at the old man in his ridiculous hat and do a startled double take. This cruel, heartless man has tears in his eyes? Are my own eyes deceiving me? This last development is too much. I need to escape.
“Ciao, Mamma, a presto… see you soon.” I give my father a curt nod and stride from the restaurant, gin-gin safely tucked under my arm.
I don’t look back but I meant what I said.
I will see them again soon.
CHAPTER NINE
Jaelin
When I ripped open the envelope on Saturday and read the passing result of my real estate license exam, I’d called Johnny immediately. He whooped his congratulations and took me to lunch to celebrate.
I had work so we chose a convenient restaurant that we could get in and out of in a reasonable amount of time. A nice place, one we’d eaten at before but Johnny wasn’t satisfied and said we’d have a much bigger and better celebration when there was more time.
At the restaurant, he kissed me, told me how proud of me he was but I felt that same distance from him I had for the past few weeks. Like he was distracted.
“Johnny, is everything alright?” I asked at one point.
“Yes, yes, of course. But this is your day, don’t worry about me,” he replied with a smile.