Tattered, p.20
Tattered, page 20
That got her interest. “Like what?”
“Did you know he used to live here? Just like I did when I was a kid?”
She nodded.
“Well, there was this place where we used to get these meatball subs. They are his favorite sandwich ever. What if we went and got some meatballs to put in the fridge and then take home to him?”
“Yeah! And some for Gran too.”
“You got it. We’ll get a ton and we’ll make a special dinner when we get home.”
She smiled and leaned into my side. I wasn’t sure if it was the mention of Jackson or Hazel or just going home, but it was the first happy smile I’d seen from her all day.
As the driver pulled away from the curb, my stomach clenched. Going back to Brooklyn was going to hurt, but for Charlie, I’d do it anyway.
We were going to Giovanni’s.
“Is this it, ma’am?” the driver asked over his shoulder.
Was this it?
I studied the restaurant, taking in the weathered sign and faded red awning over the front door. Giovanni’s was worn and so much smaller than I remembered. Had there always been bars on the windows? From the car, I could make out the same booths Jackson and I had shared once upon a time. Had there always just been the three? I couldn’t remember a time when we’d come to Giovanni’s and there hadn’t been a line at the counter, but today, it was dead.
“We’ll just be a minute,” I told the driver, taking Charlie’s hand as we unbuckled and climbed out of the backseat.
She clutched me tight as we pushed open the front door, ringing the familiar bell. The sound at least hadn’t changed, or the smell of garlic and tomatoes.
“What can I getcha?” The waitress behind the counter didn’t look up from her magazine to greet us.
“Um, I was wondering if I could get an order of meatballs, the ones you make in your subs, to go?”
“Lemme check.” She rolled her eyes and set down the magazine. “Yo, Ruthie!”
“She sounds funny,” Charlie whispered as the girl disappeared into the kitchen.
“It’s just her accent, honey. Some people in the city have different accents.”
Though, neither Jackson nor I had ever picked up a Brooklyn accent. He’d been born in Pennsylvania and had learned to talk there before being brought to New York. And since the nannies at the orphanage had all come from out of state, usually missionaries from some Midwest churches volunteering in the city for a year, I’d never picked up the accent myself.
“Are you the lady who wants meat—” A woman came out from the back but stopped before reaching the counter. “Thea?”
My mouth fell open. “Ruth?”
We stared at each other for a long moment, until the shock on her face morphed into a smug, bitchy grin. “Well, well, well. Back in the neighborhood. I always knew you’d be back.”
Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard and I tugged Charlie closer to my side. “I’m just in town visiting. I was hoping to pick up some meatballs for Jackson and take them home as a gift.”
“Knew you two would end up together.” She eyed me up and down before nodding to Charlie. “That his kid?”
“No.” I shook my head. “We’re not together. Same as always, we’re just friends.”
“Uh-huh.” She sneered, looking past us to the car outside. “Nice ride.”
“Thanks. Listen, I think we’ll just go.” There was no way I was ordering food from Giovanni’s now, not when I knew Ruth would spit in it.
“But Mommy—”
“Not now, Charlie.” I shooed her toward the door.
I twisted the knob when Ruth’s shrill voice stopped me short of our hasty exit. “Just like last time, eh? Runnin’ off without a good-bye? This time gettin’ in a fancy car. Think you’re still too good for this neighborhood, Thea? Think you’re still betta than me? Cuz you’re not. You’re still just stupid trash.”
I guess she was still bitter about how our friendship had ended.
Ruth had been my age and a classmate in school. She’d been my best friend, or so I’d thought. In reality, Ruth had used me for years. When she wanted my desk in English to sit by a cute boy, I gave it to her even though I’d sat down first. When she needed twenty dollars our sophomore year to buy a new backpack, I lent her the money even though I’d been saving it for winter shoes—she never paid me back.
But Ruth had been the friend I’d have given anything for. My meager things had been hers for the taking. And she’d taken and taken and taken. I’d let her, until the day I found her fucking my boyfriend in the supply closet of the bar where we both worked.
I let loose my temper on my asshole boyfriend. He was drunk and pretending not to realize his mistake. But Ruth knew exactly what she’d been doing. After he zipped up his pants and stumbled out of the bar, she told me it wasn’t her fault, but mine. I hadn’t been keeping him satisfied, so he’d strayed.
That had been the final straw.
In that moment, I realized just how toxic and selfish Ruth was and finally listened to Jackson and Hazel’s advice. Cutting her out had been a long time coming. Without a word to Ruth, I quit my job and moved out of Brooklyn. I found a hole-in-the-wall apartment in Manhattan a couple blocks away from Jackson and started tending bar at the hotel where I eventually met Logan.
Where Charlie had started.
And because of the little girl clinging to my hand, wondering what was happening, I wasn’t going to let this bitch talk to me like that for another second.
I turned from the door, standing tall. “I have never been and will never be trash. And I’m not too good for this neighborhood, Ruth. But I am too good for you. Have a nice life.”
Her face turned a splotchy shade of fuchsia, but I ignored her and held my chin high as I led Charlie outside and to the car. When the door closed behind us, I didn’t spare another glance at Giovanni’s.
I didn’t want to remember it like I’d seen it today.
“Anywhere else, ma’am?” the driver asked as I helped get Charlie buckled.
“Yes, would you please go down this block and take a right? I’ll tell you where to stop.” I was talking fast from the adrenaline in my veins, but he caught it all and pulled away from the curb.
“Where are we going now?” Charlie asked.
“You’ll see.” I gave her a smile and bent to kiss her forehead. It only took a minute to get where I wanted to go, and I told the driver to pull over.
“See that building?” I asked Charlie, pointing through the side window.
She craned her neck to see and nodded. “Yeah.”
“That’s where I grew up. That was where I lived.”
“You lived there with Gran?”
I nodded. “That’s right. This is where I met Gran.”
The orphanage, much like Giovanni’s, wasn’t the expansive and towering building I remembered from my youth. It actually wasn’t much bigger than Lark Cove School. It had been abandoned, all of the windows dark and boarded up. The doors were locked shut with a chain.
But it had once been home and I wanted Charlie to know where I’d come from.
I’d spent many lonely days and nights in that building. I’d had countless nights wishing for someone to love me, endless days hoping someone would want me to be a part of their family.
That’s all I’d ever wished for.
A family. Unconditional love.
It hadn’t happened right away, but Charlie was all of those wishes come true.
Maybe Hazel had been right. Maybe coming back here would help me put to rest the memories from the past.
Because I knew now, I wouldn’t be back here again.
My phone dinged with a new email and I took it out of my purse.
From: anonymous743
Subject: You’re nothing but a cheap whore.
Anonymous743 had been emailing me all week. One per day, ever since the first. I knew now they weren’t spam. Even after I’d blocked the account, they still kept coming. The email gods didn’t care that some unknown person was harassing me.
But like I’d done with each of the previous, I deleted it and told myself they’d stop. I’d probably just pissed off a customer traveling through Lark Cove. A couple weeks ago, there’d been a group of drunk assholes in the bar who had bitched constantly about my food, drinks and service. One of them was probably having a real laugh right now.
I looked up from my phone, staring back at the orphanage.
The joke was on Anonymous743, because if I could sit here in front of the place where I’d mostly known loneliness and not crumble, then a stupid email wasn’t going to break me.
“Okay,” I told the driver. “We can go.”
As he drove us back to Manhattan, I replayed the afternoon. In a way, seeing Ruth at Giovanni’s had been a blessing. It had pissed me off enough to go to the orphanage. And there, I’d remembered why I left New York in the first place.
To build my own life. To live by my choices. To be with the only family I’d ever known.
Logan and I had been living in a dream these past couple of weeks, but it was time to wake up and face reality. The snooze button had been pushed long enough.
When we left here on Monday, I was letting him go. I was breaking this off before we spent months or years struggling through a long-distance relationship that could only end in pain for us both.
Standing in the lobby of my favorite restaurant, I nearly fell over when Thea and Charlie came through the door.
Thea was wearing a fitted black cocktail dress with cutouts around the collar showcasing her flawless skin. Her hair was pulled up in a twist accentuating the long line of her neck. Add to that her makeup, jewelry and hot-as-hell heels, I was glad I had on a jacket to help conceal the bulge behind my slacks.
She was always beautiful whether she was in the jeans and tank tops she wore to the bar or the ratty peach sweatshirt she’d been wearing this morning. Thea always made my heart beat faster. But I loved seeing her dressed up, wearing the finest. She deserved the best there was.
“Hi,” she breathed. “Sorry we’re late.”
“It’s fine. You look beautiful.”
I bent to kiss her blushing cheek, lingering for a moment to smell her perfume. Then I forced my eyes off of Thea to greet my daughter.
“Hi, peanut.” I crouched down. “You look beautiful tonight too.”
She glared at me and plucked at the skirt of her dress. Charlie was wearing a gray lace dress with half sleeves. Her toes wiggled in her ballet flats. And somehow Thea had tamed her hair into a sleek ponytail with waves of curls running down her back.
But it wasn’t the clothes that made her look so different tonight. It was her missing smile.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she muttered, studying the floor. Then she brought her hand up and yanked at the collar of her dress as hard as she could.
“Charlie, that’s enough,” Thea scolded, swatting her hand away from the fabric. “Knock it off. Right now.”
It was the first time I’d ever heard Thea address our daughter with a firm tone. Charlie was such a good kid, she didn’t need much reprimanding. Even when you were trying to corral her into the bathtub, she didn’t require stern warnings.
Charlie turned up her chin and scowled at Thea, another thing I didn’t like. What the fuck had happened today?
Before I could ask, the hostess called us over. “Mr. Kendrick? Your table is ready, sir.”
I stood and took Thea by the elbow, escorting her through the restaurant toward my table in the back corner. David’s Table only took reservations, and at times, they were booked three or four months in advance. But whenever I walked through the door, they found a way to clear a table.
I pulled out Thea’s chair, then did the same for Charlie. Once they were seated, I took the seat with my back to the wall.
When the hostess went to unfold napkins, I held up a hand to stop her. “Thank you.”
“Enjoy your meal, sir.” She gave me a slight bow, then backed away.
Thea searched the table. “Menus?”
“It’s chef’s choice, but I’ve never been disappointed.” I opened my mouth to ask what was going on with Charlie but our waiter appeared and launched into his greeting.
Had it always taken this long to hear the gauntlet of wine selections? I wanted him to disappear so I could talk to Thea, but he kept droning on and on. Finally, after he finished detailing the reds, I was able to order a bottle of wine.
“Charlie, what do you want to drink?” I asked.
She didn’t answer, so Thea ordered for her. “She’ll have a chocolate milk.”
The waiter looked at her like she’d just blurted a string of expletives. “We don’t have chocolate milk.”
“Then find some,” I snapped, shooting him a glare that meant he was dismissed.
Thea closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Charlie kicked the leg of the table.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
Thea shook her head. “It’s just been a long day and we’re hungry.”
There was more behind their attitudes, but I didn’t press. “I’m sorry I was running late and couldn’t meet you at home.”
I’d had a client meeting go long at the firm and then a junior associate stopped into my office for some advice on a contract he was drafting. By the time I’d shut everything down, I’d been forced to send a car to pick them up instead of doing it myself. Normally, the long hours didn’t bother me. It was a thrill to always be in demand and the go-to guy. But tonight, all I’d wanted to do was leave and have people figure shit out on their own.
“It’s fine.” Thea waved it off and took a drink of her sparkling water.
“Did you have fun shopping today?” My mother and sisters loved shopping about as much as they loved talking about what they’d bought. I figured it was a safe topic until I got a nasty look from my daughter and Thea rolled her eyes.
Shit. This was not how I’d envisioned dinner going. The waiter brought our wine and a glass of chocolate milk for Charlie, setting them down without a word. Silverware clinked on plates and voices murmured around us, but my corner of the restaurant was silent.
I was guessing that Charlie’s mood was because of the dress. She kept tugging at the collar.
Thea was clearly off because of Charlie’s attitude, but there was something more too. It wasn’t just an angry-mom mood. Her shoulders were hunched, and worry lines marred her forehead. She seemed sullen and withdrawn.
Was it because I’d slipped this morning? I love you had never come as naturally as when I’d blurted it to Thea. But when she’d flinched so hard the bed had rocked, I’d hastily added, “in my bed.” At first, I’d been pissed off by the rebuff.
Rejection wasn’t something I handled well, which was ironic considering I’d tried to propose to Emmeline twice. Yet neither of my failed attempts to marry her had ended our relationship. Really, they hadn’t done anything. We’d just carried on like nothing had changed because a deep-seated part of me had actually been relieved.
Thea’s reaction to an I love you had hurt.
But as I’d showered and taken a minute to step back, I’d realized it wasn’t because she didn’t have those same feelings.
She was scared.
To make this work—to say the I love yous—meant a lot of changes were coming.
Except whether she was ready or not, change was coming. She could try to avoid it for the rest of the week, but I wasn’t letting her go.
On Saturday, while we were at my parents’ estate, I was asking her to move. I was telling her how much I loved her and how much I wanted her and Charlie in my everyday life. Then I’d give her the ring I’d picked out this morning at Harry Winston.
We sat quietly until the waiter delivered our first course.
“What is this?” Thea asked him as he set down the plate in front of her first.
“Poached shrimp, melon and frisée salad.” He moved to set down Charlie’s, but Thea grabbed it first.
“What?” I asked.
“She’s allergic to shellfish.” She pushed the dish back at the waiter. “I’m sorry, she can’t eat that. Do you have french fries?”
The waiter’s eyes bulged, but before he said anything, he remembered his place and looked to me. “I’ll discuss it with the chef.”
He served my salad and rushed away from the table while I made a mental note to discuss Charlie’s diet. How did I not know my daughter was allergic to shellfish? It was another reminder of how much I still had to learn about my child and how much easier that would be if we lived in the same state.
“I’m hungry, Mommy.”
Thea gave her a sympathetic smile. “I know, honey. Here.” She picked up Charlie’s chocolate milk. “Drink more of your milk.”
“It tastes funny.”
“Let me see.” Thea took a small sip and frowned. “It’s just because they used real cocoa.” She forced a smile, trying to make it seem exciting. “It’s fancy. Try a little more. I bet you’ll like it.”
Charlie’s shoulders fell as she shook her head. “No, thanks.”
The silence resumed.
I looked across the table to Thea, who mouthed, Sorry.
It’s fine, I mouthed back.
It didn’t take the waiter long to come back to the table with a small plate of fries.
Charlie raised her chin, hopeful at first, but when she saw they were covered in garlic, parsley and parmesan, her eyes filled with tears.
“Just try one,” Thea urged. “Let’s all try one.”
Thea and I both took a fry off Charlie’s plate, eating them quickly. They were marginal at best; french fries weren’t the chef’s specialty.
“Okay.” Thea chased her bite down with a sip of wine. “Let’s just wait until the next course. I’m sure you’ll really like it.”
“You know what?” I whipped the napkin off my lap and set it on my salad. “Let’s just go.”
“No, Logan.” Thea held out her hand. “It will be fine.”
