by Gina LaManna
I considered the other side of the argument, too. The con list was just as long as the pro list. Maybe my father was in jail, arrested, a low-life. Maybe he was a thief, or worse. There was a chance he knew I existed, a chance that he’d purposefully run away from my mother and I and wasn’t interested in seeing me again. Maybe my showing up on his doorstep would be his worst nightmare, instead of a joyous reunion like when Nora discovered she had a long, lost granddaughter.
Then again, maybe he didn’t know I’d existed. Maybe he’d lived his whole life oblivious to the fact that he had offspring stomping around the city of St. Paul in thigh-high, sparkly boots on the stages of TANGO for a special, one night only appearance.
I bit my lip. I hemmed and hawed. And I changed my mind nine hundred and forty-eight times, trying to convince myself not to open the envelope. My life was good now. Happy. Complete, for the most part. I had a loving family, boyfriend, and best friend, at least on the occasions when she decided to speak to me. Though my wallet was constantly light and my apartment in danger of collapsing at any moment, I didn’t need any more material things to be happy. What I had was enough.
Yet despite all the reasons I shouldn’t open the envelope, there was one reason I should.
One big reason.
He might be my father.
Chapter 22
“JACKSON COLE,” I SAID, stepping out of the room and setting the envelope on Clay’s keyboard. “That’s the name.”
Clay froze, his fingers curled over the keys, his shoulders tense.
He was likely terrified of my emotional state, judging by the way he remained hunched over the computer and avoided eye contact.
“It’s okay,” I said, my voice a bit hollow. “It doesn’t mean anything to me. I’m not going to explode into tears.”
Clay’s shoulders relaxed, his fingers moving as he read the name for himself. “Lacey Cole,” he said, trying the name on for size. “Not bad.”
I shrugged. “Like I said, doesn’t mean anything to me.”
The biggest epiphany in my decision had come only after I’d opened the envelope. I’d stressed, paced, and banged my head against the pillow before finally coming to terms with the fact that I needed to know either way. There were always reasons not to do something; it was getting up the courage to take action that took guts.
So I’d gathered up all the guts I had, fueled mostly by sugar and caffeine, and slid a fingernail under the seal.
Jackson Cole.
Even now, the name didn’t generate any emotions one way or another. I didn’t feel a warmth, a kinship, or a bond. Neither happiness nor sadness came. Just emptiness. And as much as it was a relief to have the anticipation over and done with, it was also a disappointment. The adrenaline eased from my veins and a wave of exhaustion took its place.
I slumped next to Clay on the couch. “Now what?”
“Now I come into the equation.” Clay’s fingers twitched. “Is it insensitive to get cracking immediately on this information?”
I shook my head. “Be my guest.”
“What happened to you in there?” Clay turned towards me and, though his fingers clearly itched to get to the keyboard, he focused on my face. “You look like a deflated balloon. You were wired like a spring about six minutes ago.”
“It was only that long?” My tone was flat. “Seemed like ages.”
A look of understanding dawned on Clay’s face. “It’s about him. This guy. Your possible father.”
I nodded. “There’s just nothing there, inside. I’m not excited. I’m not happy. I’m not sad. I don’t love the guy, I don’t hate him. I don’t even know him.”
“Well, that’s where I can help.” Clay gave a firm nod. “But there’s one thing you do need to know, first.”
I raised an eyebrow.
Clay sat back, pulling his hands off the computer keyboard, which probably caused him physical pain. “Look at me,” he said, tilting my chin upwards until I met his gaze. “You’re a Luzzi first. Doesn’t matter if your birth certificate should say Lacey Smith or Lacey Cole. Neither of those people are who you are. Neither of them is my cousin. You’re a Luzzi, first and foremost. Got it?”
A half-smile was all I could manage, but my insides warmed and I felt exponentially better.
“Don’t you forget it, either. Understand me?”
“I understand.” The full smile came easily now. “Also, I think you forgot to say favorite in front of cousin. To clarify, I’m your favorite cousin, right? Not just any old relation.”
“Don’t push it.” Clay leaned forward, his eyes darting back to the computer screen.
“Go ahead,” I said. “I can tell you’re dying to find out.”
“I’m curious,” he admitted. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t look while you’re here.”
“No, go ahead.” My fingers clenched, and I realized that maybe I wasn’t quite as relaxed as I’d thought.
Technically since I was a full grown adult, I should understand that whoever my father might be didn’t have to change a thing about me, or my life as I knew it. Still, I’d identified as an only child of a single mom for so long now, the fact that I even had a father had disappeared from my conscious thoughts a long time ago, and it was strange getting used to the notion again. I’d sort of imagined that my mom had just picked me up from the baby store one day all by herself.
“I’m afraid...” Clay trailed off.
“Don’t leave me hanging!”
“I’m afraid it will be more difficult than I thought. It appears there are a few Jackson Coles in the surrounding area.”
“Hmm.” I picked at a thread on my Aladdin pants.
“My advice to you? Go on with your day.” Clay cleared his throat. “I’ve got work to do, and I’m guessing you do too, considering the Haunted House invitation I received for this afternoon.”
“You’ll be there, right?”
Clay let out a pained sigh. “Do I have to?”
“Meg will be there. Plus, I spent hours getting a costume ready for you.”
“You’re lying.”
“Yes, I’m lying right now, but I’m going to spend hours getting a costume ready for you. I’m off to get started now.”
“You’re still lying.”
I rolled my eyes. “Just swing by. Have fun. Anthony’s dressing up, too.”
“Once a liar, always a liar.”
“I guess you’ll just have to come and find out the truth, then.” I stood and winked, knowing that in order to pique Clay’s attention, I needed to raise a question that made him curious. He had major FOMO. Which according to the kids these days, was a real thing – Fear of Missing Out.
“What time?” Clay sighed.
“Around four. That’ll give you some time to get all dressed up and looking sharp for the ladies.”
Clay waited a beat. “You do know Halloween is a children’s holiday, right?”
I frowned. “I do know that. But whatever you do, don’t let Meg hear you say it.”
“Well, the Haunted House is for Marissa and Clarissa. That’s what the invitation said. And I’m not out trolling for ladies at a kids’ party.”
I debated which part of his statement to address first, eventually landing on the latter. “Are you ever out trolling for ladies?”
“Shut up.”
“And why do I never receive invitations to Luzzi events?” I stood, making my way towards the kitchen. “I tell you, this family...”
“Maybe you should check your email once in a while.”
I paused. “It came through email?”
“Yes.”
“Huh, news to me.” I headed towards the hallway. “I’m going to go – er, visit Meg.”
I almost said that I was going to go look for Meg, since she’d stormed off last night and I didn’t know where to find her. I also no longer knew if she planned on attending the Haunted House. But as I was sort of using her as bait to get Clay to the party, it wouldn’t
be a good move to tell him she might not be attending anymore.
“Visit her? Won’t she be there tonight?”
“Yes. We’re putting the finishing touches on our costumes,” I said. “Do you think you’ll have the results around the whole Jackson Cole thing narrowed down today?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Clay glanced to his naked couch partner. “Veronica and I are getting to work. We should have something for you tonight or tomorrow, but not until after the Haunted House.”
“Are you just telling me that so I won’t spend all day thinking about it?”
“Pretty much.”
“And there’s probably not a chance you’ll tell me sooner, even if you find out, am I right?”
“Correct. Enjoy the party. This whole thing with your father has been thirty years in the making, thirty more hours won’t make a difference,” Clay said. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“Thanks, you Halloweenie.”
“’Bye, weirdo.”
Chapter 23
I POUNDED ON THE DOOR to Shotz, ignoring the stare of a homeless man sprawled on a nearby bench, wearing nothing but a garbage bag. A mother pushing a baby in a stroller crossed the street, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of me or my bench buddy.
“Open up!” I called. “Meg? Julio? I’m dressed like a nutcase out here.” I proudly sported my Aladdin costume, billowy pants, open purple vest with a beige camisole underneath, and a bit of makeup. I also had slicked my hair back and, according to Clay, made for a passable dude.
A few minutes later there was still no answer, but there were plenty more stares. The strange man had invited a few friends over to his bench, which brought the count up to three guys with shaggy beards and dirt-streaked faces watching my struggles.
“Dude, you look weird!” one of them shouted.
“Bar doesn’t open for a few more hours,” another called. “There’s a bathroom down the street, if you’re looking to wash up.”
I waved. “Thanks, don’t need a bathroom, though. Looking for a friend.”
“Yeah, okay, bro,” the first man called. “No worries.”
If I had ever wondered whether or not I could pass for a man, now I had my answer. Somehow, I expected Anthony wouldn’t be thrilled.
“Meg, open up! I’m being mistaken for a ‘brother’ out here. I’m going as Aladdin to the Haunted House, I promise you. See? I’m all dressed up, not ditching you. I’m even early to help with the rest of the costumes.” I leaned against the door. “Please, open up.”
This time, my wish was answered.
“Yo,” Julio said. “What’s up, brother?”
“Ha, ha,” I said, stepping past him into the bar. “Is Meg here?”
“No. She just left.”
“Did she see my car pull up and go out the back entrance to avoid me?”
“Yeah.” Julio coughed. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that, though.”
“Dang, I knew it,” I said. “I went to the back entrance first to check, too. Must have just missed her.”
“Nope, you didn’t miss her. She heard you, she just chose to ignore your knocks.”
“Apparently. Do you know where she went?”
“No. She said she wouldn’t be back for a while.”
“Julio, listen. Enough with the crap.” I rested my hand on his shoulder. “I know that’s just the message Meg asked you to pass along. But I’m not messing around anymore. I’m looking for my friend. It’s important.”
“I seriously don’t know where she went. She stormed out of here in a huff. She barely even talked to me.” Julio shrugged my hand off his shoulder. “I thought you might know what’s crawled up her butt and made her so crabby lately.”
I sighed. “Did she say anything about a Haunted House party today?”
“Yeah. She said in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t be attending.”
“Great.” I exhaled a breath. “Maybe I can use your phone to call her? She won’t answer if it’s my number.”
“Can’t.”
“Please, I told you, it’s import—”
“Well, you could...but it wouldn’t do any good.” Julio then pulled not one, but two phones from his pocket. One of the devices apparently belonged to him, while the other...well, let’s just say I’d know that bedazzled, pink, fluffy case anywhere.
“She left her phone here! I’ve never seen anything like it. Did she tell you to answer it if it rings?”
“Sort of.” Julio examined the screen, avoiding eye contact. “She told me to answer it if anyone calls, except for you. She told me to send your calls straight to voicemail.”
“And you have no idea where she’s headed?”
Julio shook his head.
“All right, fine.” I fished in my purse, eventually finding the sheaf of papers I’d been looking for. “If you see her, can you give her these?”
Julio grabbed the papers, reluctantly scanning the front page. “Soul mate analysis, huh?”
“Shut up.”
Julio grinned. “Does this have anything to do with the reason you’re dressed up as an Italian dude?”
“I’m Aladdin!”
“Oh.” Julio scanned me up and down. “You should’ve laid off the hair grease.”
“Arggh!” I turned towards the exit. “Just give her the papers, please. It’s in your best interest to do so, if you’d like her to stop being so crabby.”
“Your wish is my command, Aladdin.”
I turned, bracing my arms in the door frame. “It’s the genie that grants wishes. I fly on a magic carpet.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“I don’t want to hear it, Julio.”
“You know something?” Julio stepped forward, clearing his throat. “I can show you the world.”
“Excuse me? I have a boyfriend.”
But Julio ignored me, bursting instead into the famous Disney song. “Shining, shimmering, splen-did. Tell me, Princess, now when did you last—”
“I’ll show you A Whole New World,” I mumbled, walking out the door. “Watch out, or I’m siccing Abu on you.”
“Wait a second, who’s Abu?”
“My monkey!” I shook my head. “Have you never watched a Disney movie?”
“Oh, whew.” Julio wiped his forehead. “I thought Abu might be one of your grandfather’s guards or somethin’. You had me worried for a second.”
“Good. Stay worried, because you never know about me.” I squinted at him, trying to look menacing. “Make sure Meg gets those papers.”
I left Shotz, waving to my bench buddies before climbing in my car and heading straight to the estate.
Chapter 24
THE PLAN FOR THE REST of the afternoon was fairly simple. But that didn’t mean the execution wouldn’t be challenging.
Driving across the city, I tallied up my To-Do list for the next few hours. I had a bit of time before I was expected to meet with the guards and dress them in costumes, organize their positions and remind them not to touch any of the guests. This was Meg’s area of expertise, but seeing as how she likely wouldn’t show up at all, the responsibility had shifted to me.
In order to double check the start time, I had snooped on Clay’s invitation to the Haunted House before leaving the apartment this morning. Even though I’d organized it, I had never received the formal invite. This family had a bad habit of leaving me off invites.
Turned out, Nora had decided that the last visitors would enter the maze at 7:30, and the house would be officially closed by eight. The rumor Anthony had started claimed that the precious item would be moved into the safe around nine, which meant we’d have a one hour buffer to clear the civilians from the main hallways if needed.
Meanwhile, the guards would likely be busy cleaning up, socializing, or otherwise distracted by people in costumes. With everyone moving around, it’d be easy for a potential thief to slip away unnoticed before the supposed “transfer” began.
As for Nora, I’d
thought of her, too. I’d given a ring to her private masseuse, requesting an appointment for my grandmother at 8:30, lasting one hour. The masseuse lived at the estate, so the journey wasn’t exactly a trek for him. That should help keep her busy and, hopefully, relaxed.
As I pulled into the estate’s driveway, my adrenaline resumed pumping at full force. This day had already been a mix of highs and lows in the emotional department, and it wasn’t even halfway over. I parked, taking a minute to spruce up my Aladdin outfit. Flipping down the mirror, I decided to go with a little more makeup – even if I was dressing as a guy, I could still try to be somewhat pretty.
I put the mascara brush up to my eye, just as a loud rap sounded on the car window.
“Ow! Dang, Carlos,” I said, rolling down my window as I waved a hand at my quickly tearing eye. “You nearly made me lose an eye with a makeup wand.”
He blinked. “I hope that wand can magically get back my crown. Because otherwise, a little poke in the eye will be nothing if I don’t see the item in the next eight hours.”
“Are you threatening me?” I looked straight at Carlos, pep-talking myself into holding his gaze. “I don’t think Nora would be happy to hear about this.”
Carlos cleared his throat, grunted something that might be interpreted as sorry, and held up a finger. “If you so much as breathe a word of this to her...”
“Carlos,” I said with exasperation. “You can’t apologize and then threaten me again in the same breath.”
“They were two different breaths. And I didn’t apologize.”
“Well, you should.”
“Are you going to tattle on me?” Carlos’s eyes burned holes in my head.
He won that staring match. I looked down at my hands, knowing I’d never tattle. The Luzzi family as a general rule never tattled. And, as Clay had recently reminded me, I was a Luzzi through and through.
Which brought us full circle back to the issue at hand – a traitor. Here at the estate, we had far too many secrets to spill, and one breach of trust could open the floodgates for dangerous information to flow. Which is why I needed to find the butthead who’d stolen the crown. It boggled my mind, wondering who on earth had thought a few precious gems would be worth risking the full extent of Carlos’s wrath. There had to be easier ways to make money.