Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 115272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“Come!” She could only have one reason for this show of friendliness; she needed to know what I knew. Me, I’m here to give her a false sense of safety. It’s not quite time to act against her yet, but it’s going to take more than the few days I have left here this trip to do what needs to be done. In the meantime, I needed to at least break the ice with her, So I sat across from her and sipped my bottle of water while she probed me.
If she thought this infantile shit would work on me, she hasn’t met the Russo twins. The FBI don’t have nothing on them. I let her play her little mind game, not knowing that she herself was getting mind-fucked by yours truly. “So, tell me, how did my father meet my mother? I’m not brave enough to ask him, and Ma never really talks about him. I get the feeling that they had a bad breakup or something.”
I saw the second she relaxed; it was in the steadiness of her hand when she picked up her cup. A steadiness that had been sorely missing before. “I don’t know much about their relationship Alonzo never said.”
“That’s strange, weren’t you all friends? Why does no one seem to remember my mother being friends with Alonzo or having seen them together? But you’re all friends, no, that’s what Sal said, that you were always together back then. So why does no one remember their romance?”
She swallowed and tried to keep that smile in place, but I could see it slipping. “Ah, it doesn’t matter. It was so long ago, right. I just wish I had someone to talk to, someone who would tell me stories about my parents’ lives here. It seems so peaceful.” I pretended to shake off my ennui, “enough about me; how is life here for you?”
I took her all the way back down into a place of complete relaxation. She’s Sicilian; she wouldn’t expect me to sit so jovially with my mother’s abuser, so she got comfortable and shared some of the more pertinent facts about the city and the village, leaving out all the darkness that she no doubt played a part in along with her little friends.
“I guess I won’t be seeing you again, not any time soon anyway.”
“Oh, you’re leaving?”
“Yes, I go back to the States in two days. I wish I had more time, but school will be starting again soon.”
Now she was even more sure that I had no evil intentions.
“You’re married, right? I think I remember meeting your husband that night. Tell him bye for me and thank you for saving me from myself today.”
“Oh, it’s no problem; I hope to see you soon. And of course, I’ll tell Antonio you said ciao.” I put my earbuds in as I walked away, and it wasn’t five minutes later that she called her husband to give him the good news. The stupid American indeed knew nothing. Alonzo, the pig, wasn’t lying to them, after all.
There was a lot of reassurance on her end as she convinced him that I’d run into her quite by accident and that it was she who’d approached me and not the other way around. Once they were both satisfied that I was not here to harm them in any way or to expose them for what they truly are now that they were no longer kids hiding behind their parents’ shadow and had so much more to lose, I stopped listening.
I headed back to the palazzo, their laughter ringing in my ears as I dug out the vintage bottle of doctored wine I’d brought along with me. The house was still in an uproar dealing with Felice, and it was easy for me to slip in and out without too much notice.
I left the house and went back to the hotel I’d booked upon arrival under the pretense of making sure the bill had been taken care of, if anyone should ask. In fact, I was using their services to make a delivery for me. A little thank you, if you will, for the lady spending part of her day with me. I added a note to the bottle of wine saying just that and sent it off to Teresa’s boutique.
I wasn’t really in the mood to listen to Felice’s screams of impending madness for the rest of the day, but there was no choice unless I wanted to appear heartless or, worse, suspicious; I needed to hang around at least part of the time. And it might work as a much-needed distraction since this was the time of day when thoughts of ‘her’ always seem to intrude on my mind. It doesn’t matter where I am what part of the globe. Every day at lunchtime, I remember our moments together.