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GIOVANNI STEPPED INTO the apartment with his cheeks and ears cherry red and the hair laying flat onto his head.
“Aww! You look like a little kid with your hair like this.” I raked my fingers through it. “And it’s so soft,” I teased, imitating his mom’s initial reaction to my curls.
He pressed his wounded smile to my lips and held me for a long time. I immersed my senses in his fresh soapy scent until the sizzle of the Italian sausages interrupted our cuddle session.
“Sorry. I have to finish cooking.”
He nodded solemnly and stood in the corner beside the kitchen counter like a dejected child.
“Did something happen?”
Drawing in a breath, he said, “I need to tell you something.”
“Go ahead. I’m listening.” I turned the sausage pieces over to brown on the other side and steeled myself for whatever he was about to reveal.
Giovanni swallowed, hinting at bad news. My thoughts instantly turned to Mariah. Had she won him over?
“Is it about us?”
He moseyed over and hugged me from behind. “No.” His breath warmed the top of my head.
“I don’t mean to rush you, but Selena and my mom are on their way here,” I said, facing him.
My hair stuck to his tiny beard stubble like Velcro, relieving his sharp features of the gloom weighing on them.
I stroked his scruff. “I’m liking this shaggy look you got goin’ on, though.”
“You make me so happy,” he sighed, holding me tightly.
I rubbed his back consolingly. “Me too. Is that what you had to tell me?”
He shook his head. “It is about my parents. They argue every night now...so much, I cannot sleep, and they will not let me help them. Everything is different since last Thursday.”
“They’re probably stressed out about money. Your dad hasn’t given up looking for a job, has he?” I separated from him to increase the heat under a pot of water for pasta.
“No.” Giovanni rolled his palms together and drew another deep breath. “Someone is blackmailing them. The man that called the other night wants two thousand dollars in two weeks.”
“What? Why?”
Giovanni shrugged with tears glistening in his eyes. “I have no idea. I did not want to tell you about it because you are so worried about your mother, but I do not know what to do.” He passed his hand over his face. “I want to help them, but I am scared to know what they did. If it is very bad, what if the police or immigration find out about it? I do not want to go back to Italy. I want to stay here with you.” He brushed away the engorged tears rolling down the curve of his cheek with his shoulders. “I think my father is afraid to find work because that man is blackmailing him. What other reason could there be?”
The strain in his voice hurt my heart.
“Will you help me find out what is happening?” he said. “I think the secret is about me. All I know about my adoption is what they told me. What if it is because of that?”
“Of course. But how do you know about any of this?”
His eyebrows angled downward. “I heard it. Last night the phone rang. After last week I was curious, so I picked up in my parents’ room. This time the man spoke in Italian. He told my ma what he wanted, how long she had to get it, and that was it. What am I going to do?”
Setting my tongs aside, I lowered the heat under the sausages and embraced him. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
He broke down again. “I wanted to, but I did not want to make more problems for you...And I thought I loved you more than you love me.”
I leaned away in shock. “That’s not true.”
“It is,” he insisted. “You did not want to be more than my friend, remember?” He dropped his sights to the colorful tribal owl on my T-shirt.
“I was scared of losing another person I cared about if it didn’t work out.” Holding his face in my hands, I cleared away his tears. “I’ve never felt for anybody like I do for you, so don’t you ever doubt it. I’m not going anywhere,” I said, bouncing my gaze between his eyes. “And just ‘cause I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean we’re not friends first. I’ll do whatever I can. I promise.”
I moved the sausage pan to a cold burner and squeezed him with all my might. “I love you.” My heart hammered hard and fast to finally say those words with certainty.
Giovanni raised me off the floor and buried his face in my hair. “I love you so much.” He pressed tear-soaked lips to my cheeks.
The pot of water bubbled angrily over the flame. I tried to tend to it, but my sweetheart refused to let me go.
“I am s–so happy you know about everything. I hope I never leave you.” Giovanni exploded into tears at the thought.
I fought the tightness in my throat, determined to hold myself together. The boiling water continued to echo in my ears. Focus on the food, I reminded myself as I forced back tears.
“Don’t cry. You’re gonna make me cry, and if Mom and Selena get here and see us...” I sighed. “I have to finish cooking. Can you wanna hang out until I’m done?”
Giovanni broke away and tore off a paper towel from the roll on the counter. “No. I will go.”
“I wish you could stay.” I exhaled slowly and added fettuccine to the pot. “I thought you were gonna dump me for Mariah. You know...‘cause I look like an alien.”
He cracked a smile and wiped his nose. “She is jealous of your beauty, and she should be.”
Rolling my eyes, I said, “I’m not so sure about that.”
Giovanni kissed a trail down my neck.
“You better go, unless you want my mom to kill you when she catches us.”
His sigh blew my hair.
“I want you to get me information, anything you can find: the town your parents are from, where they worked before you came here from Italy, and stuff like that.” I stirred the pasta to keep them separated. “Also check for missed calls from the day you overheard them. And we can look up the number.”
Giovanni nodded eagerly. “Okay. I‒I will get it for you tonight, I mean tomorrow,” he stammered. “I do not want them to know that I know. That is why I did not tell you at my house.”
I smirked. “I can’t believe we’re gonna spy on your parents. And you were gettin’ on my back about me spyin’ on my mom.”
“I do not like it still, but they will not tell me.”
I added tomato sauce to the pan with the sausage and returned it to the heat. “So, you already asked them about it?”
“I tried to, but my ma started to cry, and she could not stop to tell me.”
My heart ached for her.
“I’ll skip lunch tomorrow and try to figure it out on my own if you want,” I said. “That way you don’t have to ditch your buddies.”
“No. I will go with you. This is important.”
“Yeah, but—”
“I know my parents. I can help.”
He swiped the hair out of my face. “Thank you. Thank you,” he said between tender kisses. “I did not know what I could do without you.”
“I don’t know how much help I can be, but I’ll try my best.”
MOM TOSSED PAINT SWATCHES onto the kitchen table.
I frowned. “You’re picking colors without me?”
She pitched her keys into a wooden bowl on the entryway table by the door. “I swung by the hardware store on my way home to look. What do you think of the ones I like? I didn’t pick out anything for your room, so don’t look so worried.”
I held the swatches to the light. Mom was obsessed with yellow and her selections proved it.
“By the way, I found this letter shoved under the door. It’s got your name on it.” She handed it to me and unclipped her wavy locks.
The envelope had no return address and my name was sloppily written.
“Dinner’s ready,” I informed her.
Mom scratched her scalp. “Thanks. I’ll eat after my shower. I’m so glad this day’s almost over,” she said on her way down the hall.
I examined the curious letter until my phone rang. Imagining it was Giovanni calling or a potential dog walking customer, I dashed inside my room, following the cheerful tune of my ringtone. It was a blocked number.
“Hi, is this Joy?” an elderly man’s voice asked.
“It is. May I ask who’s calling?”
The man cleared his throat and said, “My name is Hugh Jass. I saw your flyer. I need someone to walk my dog and do a few extras...if you know what I mean. He-He-he.”
I ended the call. This was the fifth prank caller with a stupid name and a pervy request.
Hugh Jass (Huge Ass). Hilarious!
I needed money, but clearly, I had to rethink my business plan.
I returned to the kitchen and served myself a massive plate of fettuccine with sauce and Italian sausage, too hungry to wait for Mom to shower and Selena to arrive home. Giovanni’s dilemma took over my brain, driving the mysterious letter away from my thoughts.
I SNUGGLED IN BED, thinking back on the day when I remembered the envelope with my name on it. Racing into the kitchen, I found it on the counter and tore open the flap as I wandered to my bed.
I tried to talk to you the other day, but you wouldn’t let me. You and your mom need to get out of town for a little while. You’re not safe. I know you don’t know me, but your father and I were in NA (narcotics anonymous) together. He asked me to reach out to you. That was why I had your picture with me the other day. I never meant to scare you, but I had to get this warning to you before it was too late. Your dad didn’t have time to explain what was going on, but he’s in trouble, and he’s worried for your safety and your mother’s. It’s in your hands now, kid. I’ve done my part.
Best Wishes,
Theo
I returned the letter to its envelope, clueless as to what to make of it. My mom had begged Dad to go to rehab and meetings for years. The most he ever did was see a psych doctor for his bi-polar disorder and depression. To have a stranger send a cryptic message with a warning along with a clue into Dad’s sobriety was challenging to accept. Plus, why would Dad reach out to me at all? He loved Mom, not me.
I lingered at her door, unsure of what to do.
“Joy, is that you?”
I opened the door. Mom sat up in bed and laid her phone on the nightstand.
“Why are you standin’ outside of my door?”
I stepped into the room, trying to disguise my worry.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, examining my face thoughtfully.
I approached Mom with caution, placed the letter into her hands, and watched the anger flood her face while she read.
“What does this person mean: he tried to talk to you?”
After filling her in on everything, she chucked the envelope at me. I fumbled to catch it.
“What is wrong with you? How could you not tell me about this until now?”
“Because you were already upset about Dad getting arrested. I didn’t wanna make it worse. We called the cops and filed a report. Then, I forgot about it.”
Mom drilled her eyes into mine. “Who’s we?”
Lowering my head, I said, “The man at the florist shop. It happened in front of his store while Giovanni was getting me flowers.”
Mom hopped out of bed in a huff in her yellow plaid pajamas.
“What are you gonna do?”
She paced in front of the closet like an angry bee. “I’m gonna see your father tomorrow and find out what this is all about,” she said, as if she had to get ready that instant.
“I bet that’s not all you’re gonna do,” I mumbled under my breath.
Mom whirled around to glower at me and balled her fists tighter.
I remembered how Dad spoke to her when he called last night. It was time to take my own advice to Giovanni and ask her point-blank.
“Have you been seeing him...behind my back?”
Mom crossed her arms. “What are you talkin’ about?”
“Who else would I be talkin’ about? Dad!”
Mom resumed pacing and chewed the inside of her cheek. “No. I haven’t been seeing him.”
“You haven’t been hooking up with him at hotels for your anniversary?”
Mom approached me in anger at first, but the more she contemplated my words, the tension relaxed from her jaws. “No, Joy. I haven’t been hooking up with my husband,” she said, her expression softening. “And even if I was, it’s none of your business.”
“When was the last time you saw him, then?” I interrogated.
Mom’s eyes turned solemn at the reminder. “The last time you did...Anything else you wanna know?” She dropped her arms.
I tried to think up other questions, but the rest were for Dad, and I had no intention of confronting him to uncover the answers.
I stormed back to my room, not knowing what to believe anymore. Was she telling the truth?
I booted up the laptop and set it on the bed. The only real way to get answers was to go through with my original plan. I searched for hours, researching spy cameras and investigating tips to use for Mom and Giovanni’s parents as well. I couldn’t let him down.
Dad’s warning via his friend Theo fell to the wayside. For all we knew, his message could’ve been based on another one of Dad’s paranoid delusions brought on by drugs. He was forever seeing ninjas in the trees and people at the third-story window trying to break in and kill him, sometimes mistaking us for the enemy. If Theo couldn’t explain the supposed danger Mom and I were in, I doubted Dad could have either.
Still, like an idiot, I played into his hand, giving Mom a new excuse to reach out to our greatest enemy. She’d never rest easy until she got her way, and neither could I. We’d come too far to turn back to that life, to a life I vowed never to repeat.