With hesitance, Val reached out to take the pamphlets, looking up at her when she didn’t immediately release them.
“And Val?” she nodded with a smile. “Good luck.”
***
“Wow, Val… honey that’s tough.” Crystal said, crossing one thigh-high clad leg over the other. The boots she wore were her favorites, but they were also six inches high, so she was grateful that Val had called her to meet him at a restaurant close to where she worked.
Val tried to smile, already sick of telling the story of his misfortune, while swirling the glass of ice water he’d yet to drink and nodding across the table. “How’s the burger?”
Crystal nodded. “Amazing. It definitely hit the spot.”
“How’s work tonight?”
“Slow. I think every douchebag willing to drop a grand on a bottle of Sky and a hot waitress must be out of town for Spring Break, or something.”
Val chuckled. As a cocktail waitress at one of the hottest nightclubs in the city, Crystal was one of the few not-totally-terrible girls that he was still on speaking terms with. She was short, brunette, and had a pair of tits that could end wars. Val had spent many wild nights wrapped up in Crystal’s tattooed arms. “What do you think about carrying the kid for me, Chrys? You wouldn’t have to keep it. I would pay you…” Hearing the words coming out of his mouth made him instantly stop talking. “Jesus, I sound like a crazy person.”
“No, I get it…” Crystal smiled over the table at him. “Val, you’re a good man… and I know you want kids. I also know that I’m not the one you want ‘em with.”
“Unfortunately, time isn’t exactly a luxury for me when it comes to this.”
“Gosh, you sure do know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?”
“That’s not how I meant it.”
“I know. I’m teasing you, babe…” Crystal fiddled around with the fries on her plate. She was done eating, but she wasn’t quite ready to go, just yet. She liked Val. They’d had a lot of fun together over the years and, somehow, she knew this was the last time she was ever going to see him. “What about Zoey?” she asked, allowing her crystal blue eyes to meet his, once more.
Val’s entire face changed. “How do you know Zoey?”
“I don’t know Zoey,” Crystal said. “What I do know is how much you love to scream her name right before you’re about to bust one in bed.”
“I’ve never once—”
“You have,” she insisted, nodding. “More than my ego would care to admit, actually. It’s weird… before I met you, I didn’t think it was possible… to hate someone I never even met.” Even as she said the words, she could feel white hot jealousy coursing through her. “Turns out it is. It’s totally possible. I kind of hate her a little. Whoever she is.”
Val tried to speak, but couldn’t. He was shocked. He was in denial. He was a little embarrassed. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d never breathed Zoey’s name to Crystal the entire time they’d been fucking, not consciously anyway, so he knew she wasn’t making it up. “Wow, Crys, I don’t know what to say…”
And, with that, Crystal pulled a few bills out of her boot, and paid for the first and only meal she ever would with Val. Standing from the table, she circled around, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “You’re welcome.”
Three
The next evening was the Romanovsky Sunday dinner, a tradition that spanned decades, where attendance was non-negotiable. Zoey took the train from Williamsburg to Westchester County, where the boys had bought Tony and Bette a beautiful, sprawling estate years ago to celebrate their first million dollars made at Novsky.
Zoey let herself in with her key. Tony and Bette were simple people, and had never found the need for maids, butlers, or doormen, even in a house that sorely needed all three. She cradled the glass dish on her side while kicking the door closed, and looked down at the dish as she made her way into the house, having decided to continue her lasagna fun. Now that she knew her family hated her lasagna, she wanted to see just how far they were willing to go to lie to her about it.
From the texts she’d received on the ride up there, she knew she was the last to arrive. She took a moment to appreciate the marble floors, and grand staircase, as she passed. The living area was empty, as well as the family room and library, so she assumed they were scattered around in various parts of the estate that went largely unused.
She made her way into the gigantic, updated kitchen, and smiled at the sight of Bette, Tony, and Val. Val was leaning against the counter next to Bette, who was stirring a pot of sauce, with his arms crossed in a pair of black jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a matching grey fedora tilted far back on his head, showing just the tiniest hint of his dark hair. He looked like the hipster asshole that he was, and it still amazed Zoey how good he was at keeping a low profile. He looked like a college kid at NYU, not the CEO of the biggest real estate .com in the country. Val knew how to button up when he had to, but this was him, all hats, and jeans, and tattered shoes. The dream that had thrown her into a cold sweat the day before smacked at her, stole her breath, and she forced herself to look at something else.
Anything else.
“Hey look who it is. Get over here, Bit!” Tony called, from where he was standing from the dining room table, prompting both Val and Bette to look over at her. Tony had called her Bit, short for ‘Little Bit,’ for as long as she could remember. She was the shortest member of the family by a long shot.
That is, if she could call herself a member of the family.
Could she?
Her eyes went to Val, who was ignoring her. Thoughts like that only seemed to pop up when she was around him. He always left her feeling unsure of her place with the family.
“You look beautiful, Zoey.” Bette said, wiping her hands on a rag before making her way over. Even Mama Bette was tall. At a towering 5’9, she was statuesque as she hurried over the greet her. Zoey had to stand on her toes just to kiss her cheeks. Bette hurried back to the sauce on the oven, and Zoey couldn’t help watching her move, admiring the woman’s natural beauty. She was almost sixty, with dashes of grey starting to show in her jet-black bun, but she didn’t look a day over 40. She had beautiful, golden eyes that she’d handed down to Leo and Val. The only difference was that her golden eyes were kind and welcoming, not hard and unyielding like Val’s.
“Hey Tony,” Zoey said, accepting Tony’s hug and kisses on both of her cheeks. He pulled back, and searched her face. He was pushing sixty, like Bette, but there was hardly a gray in sight in his forest of dark brown hair. He carried most of his age in his green eyes, eyes that had seen a lot in his years as an officer. He placed one last kiss on her forehead.
She swirled with love for him, for both of them. She loved them with her whole heart, and she was sure it showed in her eyes.
Just as soon as her eyes were filling with warmth, however, they went cold when she looked across the kitchen and saw Val sneaking a piece of pasta from the pot as soon as Bette turned her head, looking bored, and in no hurry to greet Zoey.
“Bette, it smells really good,” Zoey made her way to the island. “I brought some of my famous lasagna!” she beamed, watching closely for everyone’s reactions. Bette looked over her shoulder and down at the lasagna like it was a roach crawling across her kitchen counter, but she had to grace to turn away without making it obvious.
Tony forced a smile on his face, but his eyes gleamed with disgust, while Val visibly cocked his head back at the sight of the lasagna in the dish.
“Looks great, Bit--”
“I’m good.” While Tony spewed bullshit, Val gracefully declined, and she found herself appreciating him for the first time in years. All this time she’d been convinced that Val stuck his nose up at her lasagna because he had a habit of sticking his nose up at her in general. Now she knew that he snubbed her food not because he was such an asshole, but because he was honest.
She had an epiphany at that moment. That was exactly how sh
e would describe Val if a stranger asked what he was like. She wouldn’t talk about what a mean guy he was, how he kind of reminded her of a hungry pit bull. No… she would tell them that he was honest. Almost to a fault.
She went to cut Tony a piece, stopping short when he called out.
“Why don’t we just wait until a little later, Bit? Until everyone’s sat down at the table. Then I’ll grab a slice.”
She cut her eyes at him, horrified that she’d gone so long not seeing what was right in front of her.
Her family hated her cooking, and they were going to lie to her about it for the rest of their lives.
“So you seeing any new guys lately, Bit?” Tony asked.
Zoey and Bette shared a knowing look from across the kitchen. Zoey looked back to Tony, leaning forward on the island. “As if I would tell you.”
“And why wouldn’t you?”
“Because you’re the former police chief of the largest precinct in Jersey and, in turn, have perfected the art of threatening an innocent man without actually threatening him. Not only have you perfected this art, but you’ve also trained your four sons, and they’ve perfected it, too. So I don’t bring cute boys around here anymore.”
Bette chuckled from the oven.
Zoey smiled adoringly at Tony. “Honestly, Tony. Why are you guys always so hard on my dates? At the rate we’re going, I’m going to end up completely alone, with seventeen cats. I’d really like to find a nice husband one day.”
“And have lots of beautiful babies,” Bette added, pointing a marinara covered wooden spoon at Zoey.
Zoey’s face curled. “Let’s not go crazy.”
There was little in the world Zoey hated more than kids. Her eyes went to Val, and she was stunned to find him looking right at her for the first time all evening. When he held her gaze, in no hurry to look away like he normally would, Zoey heaved in a breath and broke their eye contact. Her stomach rumbled as Tony and Bette laughed.
But Zoey had only been very distantly joking. She really did hate kids. Children were, honestly, one of her worst fears.
Her best friend, Angie, who loved to psychoanalyze people, was convinced Zoey’s hatred for children had everything to do with her parents’ death. Apparently, Zoey associated childhood with extreme loss, and in turn, hated all children because they reminded her of a time when she’d experienced the greatest loss of her life.
Zoey didn’t think it was that deep.
She just didn’t like the little bastards!
Why couldn’t that be enough? Why did there have to be some underlining, psychological reason that a person didn’t want to deal with a house full of little assholes who talked back to them, and tore up all their shit?
“Why are you so against children? You know, Bette and I couldn’t wait to have kids.”
“And you and Bette got really lucky, because you popped out four kids who didn’t turn out to be total assholes.” Zoey quietly considered her lie. One of the biggest assholes she knew was standing behind her right now. “But what if one of your kids had turned out to be a total asshole? Honestly? You’d pop out an asshole, and then you’d be stuck with that asshole for the rest of your life. The rest… of your… life. That’s a really long time you guys.”
Tony and Bette laughed, again. “You’re going to have a hard time finding a nice boy who doesn’t want to have kids, that’s all I’m saying.”
“I’m having a hard time finding a nice boy, at all, since I’ve got four Romanovskys waiting around every corner to threaten his life and limbs.”
Tony approached her and kissed the side of her head. “I’m hard on these knuckleheads you date because they’re knuckleheads, and also because your father left you in my care for a reason, and I made a pact with him--”
“Oh, here we go,” Val said, waiting for his father to regurgitate the story they’d all heard a million times.
But Zoey never tired of hearing it, and she smiled sweetly up at Tony as he continued.
“I made your father a pact that I would never let anything happen to you, that I would die first. And, as a man of my word, it’s a pact that I intend to stand by. I made my boys take that same pact, to take care of you no matter what, and it’ll be their heads if I ever find out they aren’t.”
“I know that, Tony, and I love you for it.”
“Good.” He kissed her head again. “Now get outta here and go find your knucklehead brothers. Dinner’s almost ready.”
She left the kitchen in search of Gary, Roman, and Leo while shaking her head.
***
The dinner went off without a hitch, as it always did. The boys often complained about how busy they were, and how archaic it was for a family to have a mandatory Sunday dinner, but Zoey could tell they loved it. They loved being around each other, all together, and Sunday dinner was the perfect way to achieve that.
Halfway through the dinner, Zoey excused herself to go to the bathroom, choosing the one that was tucked away in the back hall closest to the kitchen. She opened the door, and screamed out loud when her eyes met Val’s in the bathroom’s oversized vanity mirror.
“Hi. Maybe try knocking next time.” His hard eyes blazed into hers in the bathroom mirror. His eyes were truly amazing. They reminded her of the gold plated bangles that she liked to wear out dancing, the kind that gleamed with a fury every time the light hit them. She silently cursed the gods for wasting such a beautiful pair of eyes on a prick like Val.
“The door was unlocked,” she said, with a bite in her tone. It wasn’t until the words had already come out of her mouth that she noticed how red and puffy his eyes were, as well as his angular nose. The bright lights in the bathroom only highlighted it. Her eyes fell to his hands, where clusters of wadded up tissues were trapped between his fingers from where they were clutching the sink fiercely.
Her wide eyes met his in the mirror. “Are you okay?” she asked, softly.
Val suddenly crumbled the tissues in his hand, hiding them from her, before leaning over and taking the door, closing it in her face.
Zoey stumbled backwards as he slammed the door closed, almost catching her fingers in the process.
But she wasn’t mad.
She was stunned.
She’d never seen Val cry in their entire lives. In fact, in the few interactions she’d managed to have with him, she’d been the one crying the majority of the time. Their roles had never been reversed.
Zoey’s breathing hitched. The time had finally come.
She finally had the chance to find out what Val Romanovsky--the mean, confusing, but-still-held-her-when-she-used-to-cry asshole that had driven her crazy for nearly ten years--was all about.
***
By the time Val made his way back into the kitchen, most of the family had already finished eating. Bette and Tony had retired to their rooms for the night, and Gary and Roman were both in the backyard, doing god knows what. Zoey ate quietly, still taken by what she’d seen in the bathroom, trying to ignore Leo’s impatient and probing eyes.
Val took his seat silently, giving Zoey only a quick glance from under his eyes. He immediately looked away when he caught her staring.
“What?” he grumbled, when she continued to watch him curiously.
Zoey shrugged in response, looking over at Leo as she took a sip from her glass. The truth was, it was hard for her to look away from Val. After seeing him fighting tears in the bathroom, she was now fascinated by him, like he was a new exotic animal at the city zoo. She wanted to just stare at him, study him, until she got her fill. But Val wasn’t an animal in a zoo, sadly. Val talked back.
She forced herself to focus on Leo. He and Val were twins, and favored each other in many ways, but they weren’t identical. Sometimes she’d catch herself scowling at Leo, and would have to remind herself that he wasn’t Val. She and Leo had never been as close as she was with Gary and Roman, but he’d also never been cruel to her, either.
She couldn’t say the same for Val.
She stuck her tongue out at him before taking another small bite.
“You in?” Leo asked.
“I’m in,” Val nodded.
“I’m excited.” Zoey wiggled in her seat. “But you guys have to promise to give me some space to meet new guys this time. There’s no bigger hot guy repellant in the world than a girl being flanked by her huge big brothers.”
“Well, we’re not your brothers… so that wouldn’t be a problem.” Val met her eyes.
Zoey’s stomach went sick.
Leo looked off, as if he were suddenly wishing he was out in the yard with Gary and Roman.
“They are to me,” Zoey said, her voice going weak with vulnerability. She’d used the word they purposely.
Val caught it, and accepted it. “But they’re not, though.”
“Val,” Leo urged.
“They’re not,” Val pushed, reaching into his pocket. “And I’m not.” He tapped away on his phone before turning it to her.
Zoey looked at the website he’d just pulled up on his phone, Merriam Webster, and rolled her eyes.
When she immediately looked away, Val turned the phone back to himself, and read aloud, “Brother: a boy or man who has one or both of the same parents as you, brother. We do not have the same parents, Zo. Just because your real ones are gone doesn’t change that.”
Taming Val Page 4