Page 84
Story: Merciless Monster
“Of course not. I told him to be patient and wait until you’re ready to talk.”
“Thank you, Gina. I'm sorry to put you in the middle of this.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl. I can handle my cousin. How are you feeling about the whole mess?”
“Well, I nearly dropped the phone when you mentioned his name, so I guess I’m still hung up on him. Big time.”
“Oh, M. I’m sorry you’re hurting.”
“I got myself into this mess. It’s not your fault.”
“He misses you.”
“Okay, no more helping.”
“Sorry. How’s the new job?”
“Fine.”
“That good, huh?”
“No, it’s okay. I’m just feeling a little sorry for myself right now. In fact, I’m getting pretty good at it,” I sigh. “If it were an Olympic sport, I’d walk it.”
“You’re a hell of a fighter, M. You’re braver than I could ever be. What you’re doing is admirable.”
“Tell my fractured heart. Do you know if Paolo is still around?”
“I don’t know.”
“I feel awful for drugging him. He’s a nice guy.”
“He’s a mafia henchman. Don’t feel too sorry for him. He’ll get over it.
“I hope so. I wouldn’t want to make an enemy of him.”
“Paolo would never hurt you. Dante would kill him. Damn. Gotta run. There’s a call on the other line. I love you, my friend. Chat soon.”
“Love you back.”
Damn! And my day was going so well. Now, I’m right back where I started. Feeling like shit and missing Dante.
I fly into the kitchen and whip out the cupcake trays. I may as well do something with this nervous energy bouncing around my insides. I wasn’t going to bake until tomorrow evening, but the cupcakes will hold. The recipients are six-year-olds for goodness sake, not connoisseurs. Angelo’s classmates will probably lick off the frosting and toss the cupcakes anyway. That’s what usually happens at these juvenile shindigs.
It’s 10 p.m. and the smell of vanilla is wafting through the house. I’m on my thirst glass of Chardonnay—not the good stuff Dante and I brought back from the vineyard, but it’s palatable. The memories of that week come flooding back, leaving me feeling rather short changed.
Oh, well. At least my son will have killer cupcakes with sprinkles galore for his birthday party in class. Bless him, the little darling.
“This is for you, my love,” I say softly as I finish decorating the last one. “This is all for you. Everything. I hope you will understand one day how much this hurts. I hope you won’t hate me for keeping you from you Daddy.”
I take the last sip of wine, switch off the kitchen light, and go to bed. Another day in Texas, done and dusted. I feel good. Not great, just good. I’m making this work. So, I’ll have my time to be happy. It will come. Not sure when, but there’s always hope.
Splash is on my bed when I enter my room. He curls up at my feet, as if he senses that I need companionship tonight. I scratch him behind his ear before I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.
19
DANTE
“You’re kidding me!” I scream into the air. “How the fuck do you manage to lose a woman and a child, Paolo?”
“Thank you, Gina. I'm sorry to put you in the middle of this.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl. I can handle my cousin. How are you feeling about the whole mess?”
“Well, I nearly dropped the phone when you mentioned his name, so I guess I’m still hung up on him. Big time.”
“Oh, M. I’m sorry you’re hurting.”
“I got myself into this mess. It’s not your fault.”
“He misses you.”
“Okay, no more helping.”
“Sorry. How’s the new job?”
“Fine.”
“That good, huh?”
“No, it’s okay. I’m just feeling a little sorry for myself right now. In fact, I’m getting pretty good at it,” I sigh. “If it were an Olympic sport, I’d walk it.”
“You’re a hell of a fighter, M. You’re braver than I could ever be. What you’re doing is admirable.”
“Tell my fractured heart. Do you know if Paolo is still around?”
“I don’t know.”
“I feel awful for drugging him. He’s a nice guy.”
“He’s a mafia henchman. Don’t feel too sorry for him. He’ll get over it.
“I hope so. I wouldn’t want to make an enemy of him.”
“Paolo would never hurt you. Dante would kill him. Damn. Gotta run. There’s a call on the other line. I love you, my friend. Chat soon.”
“Love you back.”
Damn! And my day was going so well. Now, I’m right back where I started. Feeling like shit and missing Dante.
I fly into the kitchen and whip out the cupcake trays. I may as well do something with this nervous energy bouncing around my insides. I wasn’t going to bake until tomorrow evening, but the cupcakes will hold. The recipients are six-year-olds for goodness sake, not connoisseurs. Angelo’s classmates will probably lick off the frosting and toss the cupcakes anyway. That’s what usually happens at these juvenile shindigs.
It’s 10 p.m. and the smell of vanilla is wafting through the house. I’m on my thirst glass of Chardonnay—not the good stuff Dante and I brought back from the vineyard, but it’s palatable. The memories of that week come flooding back, leaving me feeling rather short changed.
Oh, well. At least my son will have killer cupcakes with sprinkles galore for his birthday party in class. Bless him, the little darling.
“This is for you, my love,” I say softly as I finish decorating the last one. “This is all for you. Everything. I hope you will understand one day how much this hurts. I hope you won’t hate me for keeping you from you Daddy.”
I take the last sip of wine, switch off the kitchen light, and go to bed. Another day in Texas, done and dusted. I feel good. Not great, just good. I’m making this work. So, I’ll have my time to be happy. It will come. Not sure when, but there’s always hope.
Splash is on my bed when I enter my room. He curls up at my feet, as if he senses that I need companionship tonight. I scratch him behind his ear before I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.
19
DANTE
“You’re kidding me!” I scream into the air. “How the fuck do you manage to lose a woman and a child, Paolo?”
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