Ready for You (22 page)

Friday morning he checked on the other jobsites then had lunch at home. Driving his truck around the block, he hoped Bobbie would follow through with her end of their deal. He really had no desire to have the conversation he’d threatened to have with Santo if she didn’t help him. Fridays were early dismissal days at the neighborhood school, and Bobbie was supposed to pick up Chiara’s older boy, Danny, and take him to lunch and the Chabot Space and Science Center with her youngest daughter, who was only a year older than Danny.

Rocco had to drive around again because Bobbie’s car was still in Chiara’s driveway. He parked at his house for a bit, not wanting to show up too soon after they left. Then he realized Chiara would probably be pissed off if he just showed up, knowing Danny didn’t want to see him and not supposed to know he wasn’t there. But if he called, she probably wouldn’t even answer. Shawn pulled up, back from his shopping for school.

After they said hello, Rocco began. “I need a favor. No questions.”

“I don’t like it already,” Shawn said.

“I just need you to walk over to Chiara’s and ask if Max can help you with something.”

“What? No way. I don’t even know where she lives. I’m not acting as some decoy--”

“Then call her house for me. She’ll talk to you.”

“If she’s not talking to you, I’m sure she has a good reason. I know she’s getting divorced, but that doesn’t mean--”

Rocco’s head pounded. His own son didn’t trust him. “I love her. Help me.”

Shawn’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened, reflecting the feeling in Rocco’s gut. “Does she know?”

“No. I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself. Didn’t mean to tell you…”

“Our secret.
Then you’re not running some game on her?” Rocco shook his head. “Why won’t she talk to you?”

“I’m not sure. I swear I didn’t do anything.” Seeing Bobbie kiss him might have something to do with it, but he hadn’t caused that, so he was telling the truth.

“I’ll call.”

Rocco patted Shawn’s arm and waited.

Twenty minutes later, Rocco pulled up outside Isabella’s and parked behind Chiara’s car. He walked in, but she was nowhere in sight. Shawn’s voice drifted from the new bathroom. Rocco went to the doorway, towel bar in hand.

“Guess you’re missing this,” he said. Only Max and Shawn stood in the tiny room, screwing the towel ring into the wall.

“Thanks,” Shawn said. “Max, this is my dad, Rocco.”

“I met him before,” Max said. He studied Rocco. Rocco smiled and Max did too. “Been watching the Giants?”

“Of course, what about you?”

“Not much, but Mommy let me see a game.”

“Isn’t she here?” Rocco asked.

“Said she had a phone call to make,” Shawn said.

“You guys need help?” Rocco asked.

“Nope, we got it,” Shawn said.

Rocco’s smile widened. He strode into the hall and listened. Only Max and Shawn’s voices drifted to him. He went to Chiara’s room and knocked on the door. She opened it. Her face changed from a hint of a smile to an attempt at neutrality.

“I forgot to leave the towel bar for Shawn,” he said. “How are you?”

“Fine.
I better check on Max,” she said, brushing past him.

Her nearness jolted him. He grabbed her arms, kissed her, and pulled her into her room, kicking the door shut with his foot. She couldn’t make up her mind, or maybe her mind and body disagreed because one second she kissed him back and the next she tried to push him away. He wouldn’t let her. Once he kissed her enough to stop the horrible ache, he stopped and studied her. Then he wished he hadn’t. Her eyes sparked with anger and mistrust.

“This was all a ploy, wasn’t it?” she said.
“Using the boys to get to me.
That’s low.”

He made himself look her in the eyes, but he scratched the side of his mouth. “No, I told you, I forgot--”

“Bull,” she said.

“I missed you,” he said caressing her face.

She moved his hand with a jerk and turned her back to him. “You know what Jen would have called you and me? Fuck buddies. But that’s really in the past. I have to think of my boys.”

Rocco opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Wait, he could work with this. “Okay, so I can’t see you around your boys. Come over on Sunday night.”

“Shawn’s at your house.”

“I’ll send him to his grandparents’.”

“I’m getting my period,” she said.

“Like I care,” he said.

“Just give it up,” she said.

“No.”

“I can’t be with you anymore. You had sex with my sister-in-law.”

“Over twenty years ago.”

“Ten.” She still wouldn’t turn around, her back was rigid and she hugged her arms.

“Bobbie has nothing--”

“Don’t lie. I didn’t want to hear you lie. Your plan didn’t account for a few things, like Bobbie never takes Danny anywhere and he and his cousin hardly ever see each other. And Shawn just called out of nowhere after a month to ask Max to help finish the bathroom here? I let it all play out to see if I was right. Don’t make me tell you how I feel right now. Just go.”

Rocco licked his lips and thought. His mind raced through various arguments and reasons. A knock on the door stopped him. Chiara rushed to open the door. Shawn and Max stood there, smiling.

“Come see, Mom,” Max said.

“Sure,” she said, letting herself be led away.

Rocco blew out a breath and followed her down the hall, twisting his neck, but the kinks were there to stay. They all admired the job well done.

“We better get home, Max,” Chiara said.

“Shawn said we could come over to watch the Giants game.”

“That’s nice, but your brother will be home at five.”

“Why can’t they come for dinner? No one ever wants to watch the game with me,” Max said. Rocco almost hugged him.

“No. Besides, you’ll need to go to bed pretty soon after the game starts. Thanks, Shawn. I hope you have a safe trip to L.A. next week and have fun at UCLA. Give our best to Sabrina, okay?”

“Sure, thanks.”

“If you’ll give me the key, I’ll lock up,” Chiara said to Rocco. She wouldn’t let him see anything, not her eyes, not a smile. He dropped the key into her waiting palm.

“Bye, Max,” he said. “Take good care of your mom.”

Max nodded while Chiara frowned. He and Shawn walked out to his truck. They watched as Chiara locked the front door and helped Max into his booster seat.

“What happened?” Shawn said.

“Nothing.
She knew it was a set up.”

“Did you tell her the truth?”

“No chance,” Rocco said.

“There’ll be other times.”

“Sure,” he said. But maybe what he needed was time away from Chiara. Maybe he had substituted one addiction for another. If she was his drug of choice, he knew there was only one way to quit: complete abstinence. He drove home.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Chiara,” Isabella called as she pounded on Chiara’s bedroom door. Chiara pulled the covers over her head. “I know you got my messages. We’re going to Sunday dinner at Faith’s. I know you’re in there!”

Chiara had come back to Isabella’s that afternoon once Phil returned, a much more chipper Phil. Goodie for him. Isabella had been out, so Chiara locked herself in her room with no intention of coming out.

“You know I can jimmy this door open,” Isabella said.

“I’m not going!” Chiara said, moving the covers aside. “I’m tired, you go without me.”

The tired part was true, anyway. She’d taken the boys to the zoo on Saturday. The crowds were horrendous and the boys couldn’t ever agree on what to see or do next. And, Danny had wandered off and she’d spent a frantic fifteen minutes with Max in her arms running all over the children’s area trying to find him. She hadn’t bothered to take them to church this morning. Instead, they’d eaten a pancake breakfast and gotten things ready for Phil’s return.

“You need to get out,” Isabella said.

“I’ve been out every day,” Chiara said.

“With adults, I mean.”

“I’ve been doing fine.”

“Ha. You’re not fine and you haven’t been. You’re so screwed up around adults, look how you handled that Rocco thing.
And Phil.
I thought you had more sense.”

“Thanks a lot! Go away.”

“Fine.
See you.” Isabella’s footsteps clopped down the hall.

Chiara pulled the covers back over her head, like she used to when she was a little girl, pretending to be in a far away land where the light was filtered and muted, the colors soft and warm. Only Jen had known that when Chiara said to go away, she meant she needed that person to stay, but she didn’t want to need it. She shivered. Her
mind told her people were
being considerate to listen to her requests, but her heart shattered into tiny fragments because their leaving proved she was too difficult and volatile to live with, to truly love.

She imagined her heart was a hundred puzzle pieces that needed to be put together. Chiara wasn’t good at puzzles. When Rocco left last Monday, a few pieces had broken off. Now it was completely disassembled. That he would pull such a stupid stunt only proved to her he was untrustworthy. Before Phil, all the guys she’d fallen in love with had cheated on her, lied to her, broken her heart. Phil was different. She convinced herself to love him--it hadn’t just happened. Yet that hadn’t worked out either.

Jen would want her to let go, be the crazy dirty girl Rocco brought out in her. But she was different now. She was a mother with two young sons. She had started to build up another identity, as a writer, but that had fallen apart too, when her life crashed. Besides, what did Jen know?
Jen, who had an affair with Santo, a married man.
Jen, who gave up and died instead of fighting.

Chiara knew that was unfair. It was tiring always fighting her own feelings, telling herself she was wrong to feel how she did. Part of Chiara wanted to feel and not censor herself, but that was scary. She curled up into a ball. Better to feel scared than nothing. Because most of all, she was tired of the emptiness.

While she was in the kitchen a couple hours later after eating some toast, her phone rang. Since it was her uncle Max, she answered.
They chit-chatted for a few minutes before he cleared his throat, always a prelude to more serious matters.

“Now then, niece of my heart,” he said. Chiara smiled at the old endearment. “I don’t like what your mom’s been telling me. I think it’s time for me to find my mom and tell her what’s been happening.”

“I told you, I don’t want to bother her.”

“You’re scared she’ll be disappointed, but you should know your grandma Leonora better than that. You know she’s the only one who can crack your dad into shape.”

“I don’t want any more family drama, okay? I’m trying to be there for the boys, find a job, and figure out what I want to do. Thanks though. Where is she, anyway?”

“Last I heard
,
she was on her way from Paris to a Buddhist retreat, Plum Village.”

Chiara smiled. Grandma Leonora was full of surprises.
“All the more reason not to bother her.”

“You know you can always come up to the city for a bit. Your uncle Carlo and Aunt Sophia said they’d be glad to have you there.
Always great fun at their Sunday dinners.”

“I remember,” she said. She hadn’t been to a D’Angelo family gathering since she was a girl, but she still recalled the warmth and noise of it. “How is everyone?”

“Good. And let’s face it, we D’Angelos
are more understanding
, huh? We’ve been through it all with our family--divorce, affairs, death, birth, illness--but we stick together. Your dad needs lessons, but those Vitales are a stubborn bunch. We’ve broken down other families,
though,
we’ll get to him eventually.”

Chiara laughed. “You D’Angelos think you know best.”

“It’s not a thought, it’s a fact. Ask any of us.”

“I love you, favorite uncle,” Chiara said.

“I’m more likeable than my older brothers,” he said with a laugh.

“I love them too. Handcuff a few baddies for me,” she said. Chiara had always been fascinated with handcuffs and maybe a little with the guys who wore them. Both sent shivers through her.

“Will do.
I love you too,” he said. Warmth encircled her as she hung up. Maybe she should get up there for a few days. The change of scene might help her feel better, might help her get some distance from Rocco.

But life interfered. The boys got the usual fall colds and ear infections, so she spent the week taking them to the doctor and getting prescriptions and making chicken noodle soup and weak tea. She had no job anyway and no more interviews. She’d tried every retail place she could and no one would hire her. The first employers she’d applied with thought her overqualified or not experienced enough. For office jobs, she didn’t type fast enough or have the right computer skills. In the last few weeks, she’d been unable to pretend to be a team player or even put on a happy front. She realized if she’d been hiring, she wouldn’t hire herself either.

By the weekend, Phil had caught a cold too and she offered to come over and take care of the three of them. It took all she had. Phil was such a baby when he caught even a sniffle. He lay in bed as if he had the most debilitating flu, blowing his nose and sucking on Ricolas. But Chiara made them meals and gave medicine with a smile, thankful not to be at Isabella’s alone, thinking of Rocco.

Another Sunday night alone in bed.
Phil had dismissed her, though at least he’d thanked her. Now she lay in bed, possibly more tired than she’d been the Sunday before.
And missing Rocco even more.
Santo was right, she never saw past her hormones when it came to men. She got caught up in the surge, in the excitement of new feelings, new love, and built dreams and vast storerooms to house the new relationship, the new lover. It hadn’t happened too many times, since with two protective older brothers, a strict father, and a guilty conscience, she wouldn’t always let it happen, but the destruction had occurred enough times she didn’t want to go through it again.

But the rooms were already up, like Rocco had added the new room here. She rolled over and pressed her head onto her hands to keep from reaching for her phone to call him. He was with Shawn in L.A. anyway. Maybe she could call, since he wasn’t close enough to drive over and break down her resistance. She shoved her hands under her pillow. She couldn’t let him near her, not even his voice. He was too good with a sledgehammer.

On Monday morning, Chiara leaned on the kitchen counter aimlessly stirring her coffee. Isabella had left for work, knocking on Chiara’s door before going. They hadn’t seen each other for days. The phone rang and Chiara waited as the machine answered. Mrs. Buffone’s calm, cheerful voice greeted her. Chiara ran and picked up, saying hello almost breathlessly. She couldn’t let herself talk to Rocco, but it was okay to speak to his mom.

“How are you?” Mrs. Buffone said. “We missed you at Sunday dinner last week.”

“Fine, thanks, and you?”

“Well, but needing a favor.”

Chiara stood taller. She had an irrational thought that she’d even commit a crime for her, but she almost laughed, knowing Mrs. Buffone was the last person to do something illegal. “I’ll do what I can,” she said.

“Our secretary quit a couple months ago. We didn’t hire anyone else, hoping she might come back after having her baby, but she’s decided to stay home. Of course, we’re happy for her, but the job is more than I want to handle anymore. Isabella and your mom mentioned you haven’t found anything yet. I hoped we’d be lucky enough to scoop you up.”

Okay, maybe she wouldn’t do anything.
Though maybe Rocco didn’t go into the office very often.
“I don’t have much secretarial experience and none in construction.”

“I know. Your mom told me, but it sounds like you have other valuable experience and I’m sure you’re a fast learner. Most importantly, we all get along and you’re trustworthy.”

Chiara’s stomach rolled. “Did my mom mention, I mean…” Knowing her mom, she probably said something about the scene with Rocco in July.

“My wayward son?
I know all about him. He doesn’t come to the office much. Besides, my husband and I own the company and we run the office. You’d be our employee, same as Rocco. Now, the job doesn’t pay a lot, but it should be enough to set you on your way and when we have down time, I don’t mind if you write, as long as your work is done.”

“How did you know?”

“Your mom mentioned you’ve been writing novels. It would be exciting to have a bestseller composed at Buffone Construction.” Mrs. Buffone laughed good-naturedly. “Will you give it a try?”

“Thanks, yes. When do you want me to start?”

“Tomorrow at eight?
We can talk about a firm schedule later, and I know you may need flexibility with your sons’ schedules, which could work.”

Chiara bounced a little as she wrote down the address and phone numbers. Max would be excited if she worked at a construction company.
Danny and Phil, not so much.
But it could possibly enable her to pay for her lawyer and eventually afford an apartment, though rents were really inflated, more so with all the foreclosures of the last year or two. She didn’t have the luxury of turning down such a generous offer and she didn’t know why she would want to. Except she was so petrified to give herself to Rocco she wouldn’t even listen to the voicemails he’d left her.

“Well, Chiara,” Mrs. Buffone said at four the next afternoon, “I think we made a good start today.”

“Thank you. Are you sure I did all right?” It would take Chiara awhile to learn the filing system and all the forms, as well as becoming familiar with their clients and the right things to say. She’d learned a good phone manner working at the book store, but construction was different.

“Wonderfully.
Would you stay a bit longer? Ray and I have a few things to discuss.”

It still threw Chiara, the two Rays, but she called the elder Mr. Buffone anyway.

“In a meeting?”
Chiara said. It was what she should say and then take a message.

Chiara sat at the desk as Mrs. Buffone went into the back office. It was a tiny place, just the outer office and Mr. Buffone’s larger space, as well as a storage closet and bathroom. But it was clean, neat, and air conditioned, which would be good during the hot months, which often included September and October. Chiara read her notes from the day and went over some of the computerized files.

The front door creaked open. Rocco strode into the room. Her notebook slipped to the floor as his sexy strong presence made her weak. He stopped mid stride as if he just realized it was her. Breaking eye contact, she fumbled for her notebook remembering too late she shouldn’t bend over like that in her blouse, giving all lookers a free show. She placed the notebook on the desk and crossed an arm over her chest. One corner of his mouth turned up. She stood and willed her cheeks to stop burning.