Farewell, My Loves

by Jen Tirone

  I was lucky too, to have her as a friend when I did.

  “And to have the world’s best uncle, too, of course,” he winks.

  I smile, shaking my head.

  “Well, please give her my congratulations...” I offer, struggling to wrap this up.

  “I was just going to go see her after my run... why don’t you come along?” he asks.

  “What? No. No, I couldn’t impose,” I decline, choking on my heart now beating in my throat.

  “Oh, come on now, she’d be thrilled to see you after all this time!” he says, his eyes lighting up more and more with the absurd idea.

  “No, really, some other time. I have Enzo with me,” I point to my pup like he’s all the reason why this was bad, bad, bad.

  “Okay, so let’s drop off the little guy. You live right by here anyway, and then we could head over to her in Brooklyn. Her husband is a nice guy, they won’t mind.”

  “Michael... don’t you think it’s a little inappropriate?” I just put it out there because he seems so eager to make it happen.

  “Inappropriate? Why? We’re all friends, right, love? We’ll just visit my sister, who’s your old friend, you’re her old friend, we’re all friends, yes?” he keeps repeating, maybe trying to convince us both the more he says it out loud.

  “That’s what are you, Detective? You’re supposed to be a friend, too?”

  “I’m not a foe, I can assure you that,” he counters quickly.

  “Michael... I can’t.”

  “C’mon, just a quick visit,” he keeps trying, now in a low, soft voice.

  “Let’s pretend for one day, we have no titles to us. No ties to anything... or to anyone,” he looks away, making my heart pinch sharply with guilt for entertaining the idea this far to hear that.

  “I’ll be just Michael, and you be just Gianna. What do you say?” The handsome troublemaker begs me with his green blue eyes.

  “Michael—”

  “Yes, just Michael, just Gianna,” he cuts me off from saying no, and making me laugh at his insistence.

  “I’m only taking yes for an answer, love.”

  We both stand there for a moment watching each other; communicating so much without words and neither of us are budging, until he starts smiling at me big.

  “Goodness! Alright, alright! You’re in the wrong line of business, by the way. You should be a greasy car salesman or something. And put on a damn shirt! I might’ve said yes sooner, if you weren’t distracting me,” it slips right out.

  His eyebrows shoot right up to his hairline, but I put up a hand quickly.

  “Don’t even, or I’m going home and staying home!” I threaten with red cheeks.

  “I’ll behave,” he says pointing his right index finger to make a cross over his chest.

  His very naked chest.

  I start to walk away toward my building then I turn back around to face him.

  He stops short to avoid running into me. I didn’t know he was already following me.

  “For the record, I think this is a terrible idea. Now that I got that off my chest, am I meeting you back here?”

  “Not so fast, love. I’ll walk you to your building, you can go on up and drop off your pet and then together we’ll ride the subway.”

  “The subway? I’ve never been on the subway.”

  “What do you mean you’ve never been on the bloody subway? This is New York! Have you been kept under a rock the whole time?”

  “Hey now, watch yourself. And no, I’ve never had to. I’ve always had a driver, or I take a cab everywhere.”

  “You know what, just Gianna, I don’t have a nice retort to that, without referencing anything to you that is tied to other things and other people. So, just Gianna, let’s go drop off your pup and ride the big bad scary train.”

  “You’re a smartass, just Michael. You really are.”

  When I was a block away from my building, I absolutely refused Michael from coming any closer. There was no way in hell he was going to be hanging around in the lobby where I lived.

  God, I knew this was dangerous.

  I really did.

  And I was doing so well all this time all on my own.

  But I also really wanted to see my only friend, if she’d still have me.

  It was complicated and going to see her with him was only making it unhealthier.

  For a moment, I thought about changing into something else but I decided against it; that’s not what this was about. I wasn’t going to try to impress him.

  I was wearing a sleeveless, white button down dress shirt that I had tied the bottom of into a knot, exposing a little of my midriff when I took Enzo out earlier. I paired it with palazzo pants in a light orange with a brown pattern all over it, and brown strappy sandals.

  I had nothing going on today other than to cook some dinner, do some laundry, and maybe read a little.

  I didn’t have any makeup on, not even a drop of eyeliner and my natural hair was loose and untamed. I had some of Verushka’s hippy looks going on right now.

  I threw caution to the wind and got my wallet, heading back downstairs to meet up with him the block over where I left him.

  When I reached the stoplight at the intersection he said he would stay at, he was nowhere to be found.

  For a moment I was utterly disappointed.

  Then I thought, it serves me right; I shouldn’t even be rationalizing going anywhere with him.

  I was about to turn back when an arm was flung over my shoulders.

  “Nah-ah. There’s no backing out. C’mon just Gianna. Nora is waiting. I phoned her just a moment ago at that café letting her know we were on our way.”

  I tried to take off his arm from around my shoulders, but he wasn’t having it.

  “Michael, you smell,” I lied.

  I was equally scared and liking it too much walking with him like that.

  It was more than friendly, the sneaky bastard.

  “Sorry, love,” he removed his arm from my shoulders and I instantly missed the feeling of it. “Let’s be on our way then.”

  The subway was as I imagined; overcrowded and dirty.

  But it felt nice being no one amongst everyone.

  The trains were full of commuters with only one seat available; Michael stood at the rail above me.

  His bicep was flexing while he held the bar for balance. He kept smiling these small smiles to himself. Shaking his head, then smiling again.

  I looked at everyone and everything but him.

  It was safer that way because that happiness he couldn’t stop smiling to himself about was contagious, and this, whatever this was, was for only one day.

  Reality was waiting for me back home. And in prison.

  He disrupted the peace I worked hard to restore after so long.

  We got to Nora’s townhouse in Brooklyn about a half hour later and it was sad to realize we’d lived this close to each other all along.

  I was suddenly very nervous when we began to climb the front steps of her home.

  “Michael, are you sure? Isn’t she busy with a newborn and all? I can come another time.”

  “Go on inside. They’re all expecting you,” he brooked no argument.

  “Who’s ‘they’?” I fretted.

  “Love, no one in there bites. Get a move on it.”

  “Stronzo,” I muttered.

  “I heard that. I don’t know what it means, but I can tell it doesn’t translate to ‘dashing’ like it should.”

  “You’re so full of yourself,” I said, playfully smacking his arm.

  “Just Gia, I have a retort to that I’m debating on whether or not to let it pass my lips,” he presses them in a firm line to stop from smiling.

  “Goodness, how did I let you talk me into this?” I ponder out loud biting back a smile of my own.

  Honestly though, his playfulness eased a lot of my nerves.

  We stepped in and the house smelt of home cooking; my stomach took that moment to
make its presence known.

  Michael heard it raising his eyebrows and I already knew a tease was on its way out of his mouth.

  “Well, love, it’s only a simple lamb stew, but Mam makes the best you’ll ever have,” he tells me proudly instead.

  Mam?

  “I thought we were going to Nora’s!” I whisper shout.

  “This is Nora’s. My parents are here, too, helping out. Mam covers dinners and laundry so Nora can focus on the babe. Da, he, well he’s here too,” he says with a shrug.

  “Just Michael, I thought I was visiting just Nora and just her newborn! You tricked me!” I tell him getting incredibly annoyed and reaching out to pinch him.

  He dodges it and looks over his shoulder a second and does a double take, so I look over to his line of sight, becoming mortified, because who I think are his parents, Nora, and most likely her husband are all standing at the end of the foyer watching us in amusement.

  “Ah, Gesu Cristo!” I cover my face with my hand in utter embarrassment. “I am so sorry, I was just leaving,” I tell them behind my hands and turning toward the door.

  “No, she’s not. What she is, is very hungry. Her stomach is making a ruckus—ouch!”

  I pinched him on the back of his arm and hard.

  As hard as I could with his strong arm, full of strong... muscle.

  Wow.

  This was such a terrible idea.

  And I was attacking their son right in front of them!

  “Mícheál, leave her alone. Always a troublemaker. You lovely, must be Gianna. Are you the same Gianna who used to send the rosemary loaf our way with Nora, whenever she left us some?” She gives a pointed look to Nora as she asks this and then steps up to to hold both my hands gently in hers.

  And just like that, with her simple question, nostalgia drowns my heart with memories of a time I thought I could forget.

  I was overcome with emotion, missing my only friend and baking for her, and what it felt like to have a genuine friendship.

  “One in the same, Mrs. Adair. I’m sorry for intruding on your family here,” I told her in a scratchy voice.

  “Nonsense, love. Come in. Mícheál phoned earlier that he was bringing Nora’s old friend over. It’s no intrusion. What can I get you to drink?”

  “Oh, um, just a water, thank you,” I felt bad turning down this sweet woman’s hospitality.

  She made me feel so comfortable and at ease.

  Especially when she called Michael a troublemaker.

  Even his own mother knew it.

  “Gianna, it’s so good to see you. You look amazing,” Nora compliments in her soft and lovely voice.

  “Me? You’re the one who just had a second baby! You look incredible. No one would be able to tell,” I say to her honestly.

  “Come here, old friend. I’ve missed you,” she opens her arms for a hug, and I step to her, overwhelmed with her open acceptance and the comfort this family I only met seconds ago gives without trying.

  Tears spring to my eyes, I hide my face in her neck and when I hug her even tighter, she starts to rub my back soothingly.

  I never deserved her.

  “Oh, love, c’mon. It’s okay. Shhh,” she coos and I’m so ashamed for cutting her out of my life.

  I just couldn’t see any other way.

  Once I gathered myself together, I stepped back and laughed, shaking off the rest of the emotions that had taken over me and wipe my eyes.

  “Right. Let’s go eat. I’m sorry, but we all heard your savage stomach!” she teases, and everything is good again.

  The Adairs were funny, sweet, caring and very, very welcoming.

  Dinner with them was such a contrast to the ones I’ve endured over the last several years; their humbleness reminded me of what it was like with my family back home and it made me miss them harder.

  Nora’s daughter was the most precious little thing I’d ever seen.

  But when she offered to let me hold her, I freaked.

  “Oh, no I shouldn’t! I’ve never held a baby before,” I shared in hopes she wouldn’t pass the delicate newborn to me.

  “What do you mean you’ve never held a baby?” was Nora’s disbelief.

  “You’ve really been under a rock, love,” was the pain in my ass, Michael.

  “I’ve just never held one,” I tell them as simply as I could.

  I wasn’t going to get into it and share how hard it used to be for me to even see a baby, much less want to hold one, when I desperately wanted one of my own.

  “Here you go then, just support her head,” Nora instructed as she handed tiny Caireann to me.

  My heart was pounding and I broke into a sweat.

  It felt like I was going to carry the world’s most precious gift in my hands and I was nervous thinking about holding that perfection in my imperfect embrace.

  But she settled in without a fuss and I got to hold her for a little while, so in love with her, it was truly remarkable.

  I thought that it would be too hard for me, but I missed out all this time avoiding Gio’s niece and nephews, or anyone else’s baby for that matter, when essentially, it was exactly what I should have done years ago to fill the void.

  I decided as complicated as things were, I was going to keep in touch with Nora.

  It wasn’t fair to her or myself for that matter, that her brother posed a problem.

  I hadn’t realized what a significant hollowness there was in my heart without her, until seeing her again.

  I was going to make an effort somehow.

  When we left Michael’s mother had packed the both of us, against both our insistence not to, too much food to take home.

  We were on the subway again toward Manhattan, and Michael was silent.

  Contemplative, and brooding a little.

  “Your family is really nice. I can’t remember the last time I had a pleasant family dinner like that. Wait, I can…it was back in Italy.”

  I don’t know what made me share that with him, but there it was.

  “Why didn’t you ever have any children?” he asked me, almost reluctantly.

  Damn.

  I didn’t want to go there with him.

  “We tried. I guess it’s just not in my cards,” I answered him.

  After a quiet moment, he says to me, “A shame, really. A little girl with your doll face and green eyes should be running around the world, breaking hearts everywhere, just like her mother,” he says in a gentle voice, piercing my soul with that beautifully devastating visual.

  I shrug with a knot in my throat and turn my face away, unable to allow him to see what he’s done to me saying that.

  “Do you mind if we drop off all this food at my place first before I take you home? I’ll run in quickly, my house is not far.”

  “Actually, I can take a taxi home from your stop. It’s no problem at all.”

  “Absolutely not. I brought you out here, I’ll be sure to see that you’re safely home,” he tells me sternly.

  “No, really, Michael, it’s probably best I do, anyway.”

  “Gia, Gia, Gia,” he says shaking his head at me like I’m the difficult one. “We’ll just continue to head straight your way then.”

  “Michael, there’s no need to go back and forth when your stop is already coming up. I’ll just take a cab from there. Really, it’s no trouble at all,” I try to make him see some sense.

  “No, love. It’s dark out. I’ll see to it that you get home,” the stubborn mule continued.

  “Well then, you’ll be riding there yourself ‘cause I’m getting off on the next stop,” I tell him. I don’t know if anyone can top my stubbornness.

  I stand to make my way to the door as we approach the stop.

  He stands too, continuing to shake his head at me.

  We get up to the street from the subway station and find that it’s pouring cats and dogs outside.

  Michael heads out in the rain to the sidewalk and whistles to oncoming cabs that won’t pull o
ver.

  “Here, let me. They’ll stop for a woman,” I tell him and trot to his side in the rain and lift an arm out when the next cab that speeds by splashes a puddle on us, soaking us entirely.

  “Damn it! Your mom’s food, Michael, it’s soaked!”

  “It’s not the food I’m worried about. You, you’re all wet now!” he tells me what I already know.

  “It’s fine. It’s just clothes.”

  I really felt bad for the food.

  “I’m right up there,” he points up the street, “why don’t you dry off first and then we’ll get back on the subway since none of these taxis are stopping,” he suggests.

  But before I could even answer, lightning struck the sky like it was aiming right for us, and thunder cracked a whipping sound so loud, I almost jumped into Michael’s arms.

  Grabbing my hand and taking off in a run, he made the brash decision that we were going to his house.

  We were pelted by sheets of rain as we jogged to his place, hand in hand in the dark.

  Another car splashed us on the way making us laugh at how ridiculous this all was.

  My feet kept slipping in my sandals causing us to almost tumble to the ground a few times. But his place wasn’t far from the stop.

  We got to his door just as another flash of lightning lit the sky.

  His porch light went out as he was using his key to open the front door.

  “The power went out!” he said over the obscenely loud thunder.

  But we were safely inside now.

  And the quiet of his home was disrupted by our panting.

  It suddenly felt electrically charged all around us, like any moment everything was going to ignite, us included.

  My clothes were plastered to me, my pants now shaping to my body like leggings.

  I didn’t even want to look at the state of my white shirt.

  My hair was sticking to my neck and shoulders.

  The cool air made me shiver.

  At least, that’s what I told myself.

  Michael stayed at the door with me for a moment watching me, and then finally whispered he was going get a flashlight and a towel for me, but made no move to get it.

  “Sure,” I whispered back, having difficulty finding my voice.