Page 19 of Devil's Thirst
“I’m the only one to blame,” I finish for him. It’s a sentiment I’ve heard him make time and time again. I absolutely believe it, but catching the lie can be tricky.
“You think I’ve avoided Donati for other reasons.” Even as I say the words, I feel their truth.
“You’re avoiding your family. Call it what it is.”
I lean my elbows on the granite counter, my body deflating. He’s absolutely right.
Fucking hell.
“I hear you.” The words are heavy beneath the weight of my conscience.
“Good, good. For Americans, they’re not such bad family,” he admits. It’s as glowing a compliment coming from him and brings a weary smile to my lips.
“You’re right, and I appreciate the role they’ve played in my life.”
“That’s a good boy. Always good to appreciate what you have. I’d hate to see you back with the pigs.” His light tone makes me smile even broader because we both know it’s not entirely a joke. If he thinks I’ve lost perspective, he’d have my ass back in that barn in a heartbeat. Sure, I’m a grown man now, but that’s how things work in the old country. If Uncle Lazaro orders you to the barn, you take your ass to the barn.
“Glad you called, Uncle. I’ll do better to keep in touch.”
“Eh, you’re busy. I understand.” He brushes off my comment, but only because he knows the message has been received.
“Talk to you soon. Give my love to Aunt Giulia.”
“Ciao, Sante.”
What a fucking day. I swirl the tart wine in my glass before taking a long drink. I’m past the point of savoring and ready to feel the potent liquid soothe my racing mind.
Once a pinkish residue is all that’s left in the glass, I grab my keys and head out. I’m not sure where I’m going except away from temptation. I take a drive, expecting to use the time to cool off, but find myself parked outside a familiar building. A place I haven’t been since the day I watched my father die and learned the extent of his treachery. Some thirty floors up, my sister Noemi and her husband live with their three kids—all born after I left the country.
In four years, she hasn’t failed to inform me via email of their every milestone, even in recent months after the birth of her twin boys. She has to be exhausted keeping up with them, yet she never quits writing. I’ve refused her offers to visit. I’ve been slow to respond when I write. I’ve generally failed her in every way possible.
She is the one person I’ve struggled most to face.
Renzo isn’t an issue. The problem is, if I talk to him, I’ll have to talk to her, too. I’ve told myself every story under the sunabout why there’s no need to rush into it. Most prominently, I’ve relied on my desire for anonymity where Amelie is concerned. She can’t get to know me without bias once our families are involved.
It’s an excuse like all the others.
I could accomplish my goals with Amelie if she knew the truth about who I am. I simply don’t want to. I don’t want to mess with any of it, so I haven’t.
It’s been four years of avoidance, dickhead. Time to grow a pair.
I will.
I’m not a coward like my father. Iwillface the things I’ve done … just not today. But soon.
CHAPTER 11
AMELIE
Linaand I make it a priority to meet up for lunch about once a week with our former nanny, Gloria. She was our de facto mom growing up and gave us the love our parents never did. I hate to think what a disaster our lives would be if we hadn’t had her.
While Lina and I can see each other anytime since we live in the same building, Gloria still lives in the small apartment she’s always lived in some twenty minutes away. Life gets busy. We want to make sure we set aside time to see her, thus, girls’ lunch.
Today, we meet at a cute sandwich shop and have the pleasure of little Violet’s company as well. Gloria and I both love when she tags along, but it makes lunch noticeably more harried for Lina. She assured me on our way over that she’s feeling better since I saw her last. I’m glad, but I’ll do my best to help with the little cutie and give Lina a break.
Once we’ve given Gloria hugs and are settled at our table, Lina gives Violet a cracker to gnaw on.
“She’s getting so big,” Gloria says with love creasing the corners of her eyes. “Reminds me so much of you girls when you were little.”