Chapter 18
18
ENNIO
I wiped my hands on my apron and nodded. This sauce was coming along nicely, if I said so myself. Two weeks had passed since I’d lost my job at The Lodge. Two weeks since I’d had to tell my parents about losing all my savings—which, granted, they’d taken far better than I had expected. Dad had said scammers were getting more and more sophisticated, and if dozens of rich people got fleeced by Bernie Madoff, I shouldn’t blame myself for believing Rudy Catanzaro. That had been sweet of him, and my mom had hugged me fiercely and told me how sorry she was for me.
It had also been two weeks since I’d taken up residence in Marnin’s guest room, though I spent most of my time sleeping in his bed. Not that I minded, and I still needed every inch of the guest room closet for my clothes, so it was working out fine.
Still, the sting of disappointment over how my life had taken a course for the worse lingered beneath a thin veneer of relief. At least I wasn’t unemployed anymore. My job as a line cook at an Italian restaurant called Bellissimo might only be part-time and wasn’t what I had dreamed of, but it was honest work. I only worked the lunch shift, so at least I was home at a decent time every day. And I made enough to pay my mortgage, which was my biggest concern right now. Losing my house was a looming defeat I wanted to prevent at all costs.
“Something smells incredible in here,” Marnin’s deep voice called out as he entered the apartment.
My heart did a little flip at the sound. “Perfect timing!” I turned to face him with a bright smile. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
Marnin’s eyes roamed over me appreciatively as he shrugged off his jacket. “Look at you, all domestic. That apron suits you. That little bow right above your ass makes it pop.”
I struck a flirty pose, hand on my hip. “Everything suits me, darling. You should know that by now.”
He chuckled, crossing the kitchen to press a quick kiss on my cheek. The casual intimacy of that gesture—not something he’d ever done before—sent a shiver down my spine. He peeked into the saucepan. “What’s on the menu tonight, Chef?”
“Homemade gnocchi with gorgonzola cream sauce with fresh peas. And don’t you dare imply that my new job is influencing my cooking. I’ll have you know I’ve been perfecting this recipe for years.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Marnin raised his hands in mock surrender. “Though I’m impressed you still have the energy to cook after a long day in a professional kitchen.”
I turned back to the stove, giving the sauce a final stir. “Well, I wanted to do something special to thank you. For everything.” My voice softened. “You’ve been so generous, letting me stay here while I get back on my feet.”
Marnin’s hand settled on my lower back, warm and reassuring. “You don’t need to thank me, Ennio. I’m glad you’re okay.”
I leaned into his touch, allowing myself a moment of vulnerability. “Still. It means a lot to me.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Classic Marnin, always so uncomfortable with praise. Shaking off the sentimental mood, I gestured dramatically toward the dining table. “Now, sit! Your gourmet meal awaits.”
I plated the food with care. The pillowy gnocchi nestled in a pool of creamy sauce made my mouth water and the peas were beautifully tender and a vibrant green. A twig of fresh parsley finished it off.
“Ta-da!” I announced, setting the plates down with a flourish. “Prepare your taste buds for ecstasy.”
Marnin raised an eyebrow. “That’s quite a promise. I hope you can deliver.”
I winked. “Oh, honey, when have I ever left you unsatisfied?”
A slow grin spread across Marnin’s face. “Fair point.”
We dug in, and I watched anxiously as Marnin took his first bite. His eyes widened slightly, and I felt a surge of triumph.
“Well?” I prompted. “Is it everything you dreamed it would be and more?”
Marnin swallowed and nodded appreciatively. “It’s delicious. I’ve never been a fan of gnocchi, as they’re so often tasteless blobs, but this is amazing.”
I preened at the compliment. “Thank you. Very happy you like it. I wasn’t sure if you ate blue cheese, so it was a gamble.”
“There’s not a lot I don’t eat. One of the side effects of growing up dirt poor. You learn to not be picky.”
My heart softened, as it always did when he referenced his childhood. “So what’s something you don’t eat?”
His face tightened for a moment. “Peanut butter. I survived on the stuff, mostly provided by Auden’s mom, since my father rarely had food for me. Now I can’t stand the taste anymore. I guess that’s what happens when you eat too much of something good.”
I’d known Marnin’s childhood had been rough, but I’d had no idea it had been that bad. “I didn’t know she did that.”
Marnin’s expression softened. “I wouldn’t have survived without her. And your dad. They…” He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed out. “They not only kept me alive but kept me sane by stepping up as de facto parents. Jesus, I spent more time at their house than I ever did at mine. The fact that I’m not more fucked up than I am is because of them. And Auden, in all fairness. We’ve never talked about it, but he was always there. Still is.”
Marnin had told me how my brother reacted when he informed him about us. I had a feeling more had passed between them that he’d left out, but I wasn’t gonna pry. Marnin was so notoriously tight-lipped that I savored every morsel of information he was willing to give about himself without pushing for more.
“You must’ve been heartbroken when she passed away,” I said softly.
“Worst day of my life.” His voice cracked a little. “Still is, to this day.”
Without thinking about it, I took his hand. “I wish I could’ve met her. I know the whole reason for my existence is the fact that she died and my father met my mother, but still. The way people talk about her makes me believe she was special.”
“She was. Don’t get me wrong. Cora—your mom—is great, and she’s never treated me with anything but kindness, but Auden’s mom had a special place in my heart.”
“I’m so glad she was there for you when you needed her most.”
Marnin squeezed my hand, then let go and cleared his throat. “Anyway, your gnocchi are delicious.”
I recognized it for the emotional retreat it was. “Thank you. Really glad you like them.”
“How’s the job been?”
I shrugged. “It’s been fine. The chef’s an asshole, but that’s nothing new. But it isn’t the same as running my own kitchen.”
“Do you miss The Lodge?” Marnin asked softly.
I sighed, playing with a piece of gnocchi on my plate. “Yes and no. I don’t miss the drama, that’s for sure. But I do miss the creative freedom. And the pay,” I added with a rueful laugh. “Line cook wages aren’t exactly going to help me save up to open my own restaurant.”
“You’ll get there. You’re too talented not to.”
I looked up. “You really think so?”
He cocked his head. “What would you want to do? If you had carte blanche, what would you do?”
I felt a familiar spark of excitement ignite in my chest. “Actually… Even before I lost my job, I thought about it. A cozy little restaurant in Forestville. Nothing fancy, mind you. Good, honest food, preferably locally sourced and inspired by local cuisine and the seasons. A place for people to gather. Kinda like Brianna’s, except open for lunch and dinner.” The words tumbled out of me, fueled by passion and the unexpected opportunity to share my dream. “I’ve even got a name picked out: Sunshine Corner. Cheesy, I know, but?—”
“It suits you,” Marnin interjected, a rare smile tugging at his lips.
I beamed at him, joy spreading through me. “Thanks. I’d love to create something meaningful, you know? Something that brings joy to people’s lives.” My smile faltered as reality crashed back in. “But, of course, it’s all a pipe dream now that I’ve lost all my savings. No investor will ever give me money now.”
“Yeah, that’s gonna be tough.”
One thing I loved about Marnin was that he was always honest, even when it wasn’t necessarily what someone wanted to hear. It would’ve been easy for him to sweep my concerns under the rug and placate me with some well-meaning clichés, but he didn’t.
He scratched his beard. “Your best bet would be to talk to someone who knows you, someone who will look at more than your bank account. Your experience, vision, and passion would be the main selling points then.”
I blinked back the sudden moisture in my eyes, touched by his words and the unwavering belief behind them. “You really think so?”
“Have you ever known me to lie?”
I chuckled because he’d affirmed what I’d been thinking mere moments before. “Sorry, forgot for a moment who I was talking to. So thank you.”
As expected, he waved my thanks away. The man was so wonderfully predictable in that sense.
“How about you?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“What’s your dream? Or is your job your true passion?”
He snorted. “It’s a job. A job I’m really good at and love, but still a job. I’m not the type for dreams like that.”
“No? You never had one, not even as a kid?”
“Growing up, my only goal was to get the hell out of Forestville and never look back.”
“You hated it that much?”
“I don’t think you could ever understand, and that’s not criticism. To you, Forestville represents an idyllic childhood. For me, it was nothing but survival, wondering every day if I would make it out of there one day. My situation was… I have too many bad memories of that town.”
He was right. I had no idea what that was like. “I can’t even imagine. But…”
I hesitated. Should I bring this up? Was it fair of me when I knew so little about what his home life had been like other than the few details Marnin had told me? Auden had never said a word about it, and neither had my father—not that I had expected them to. Those two were vaults, storing the secrets of god knew how many people for all eternity.
“What?” Marnin asked, sighing. “You might as well come out and say it.”
“I wasn’t sure if it would be my place.”
“As if I have ever cared about that.”
“True. Well, I wondered if the bad memories are all you see when you think back on Forestville. Because it seems to me you have plenty of good ones too, like with my brother and the Banner twins.”
Marnin’s eyes softened. “I have amazing memories of all of them. Did you know I lost my virginity to Tiago? Well, my gay virginity, anyway. We were each other’s firsts.”
My eyes widened. “You slept with Tiago Banner? Oh my god, he’s so fucking hot he makes me speechless. Every time I run into him, I stammer like a fool.”
Marnin laughed, a wonderfully happy and free sound. “I’ll have to tell him that sometime. He’ll be mortified, especially now that he’s retired from modeling.”
“Don’t you dare breathe a word. I could never face him again if he knew.”
“Damn, spoilsport. Way to take my fun away. But anyway, yeah, we slept together a few more times after that. We were both single, and the sparks between us were always there, so why not?”
Indeed, why not. That was so classic Marnin. “You must’ve been bummed when he found his true love in Cas.”
Marnin rolled his eyes. “True love? What is this, Dawson’s Creek ?”
“ Dawson’s Creek ?” I snort-laughed. “You’re showing your age there, Gen Xer.”
“Fuck you very much, Millennial.”
“But seriously, that must’ve sucked for you when Tiago found Cas.”
Marnin shrugged. “You’re making it way more dramatic than it was. We only hooked up a few times, and it wasn’t like I didn’t have alternatives. Plenty of fish in that particular sea. I was happy for him. Tiago wanted something long-term, and Cas is perfect for him.” He held up his hands before I could say anything. “I’ll be the first to admit I was skeptical, considering their age gap, but he’s good for Tiago. He’s an old soul.”
“That’s a surprisingly new-age statement from a rational guy like you.”
“Yeah, I know, but I don’t know how else to explain it.”
I’d long since finished my plate and pushed it away, leaning back in my chair. “All your friends have found love by now. Does that bother you?”
“Jesus, what’s with the twenty questions tonight?”
“As long as you keep answering, I keep asking. You don’t usually wanna answer them, so I’ll seize the opportunity when it presents itself.”
He shook his head, smiling. “I’ll indulge you a little longer. That question isn’t so easy to answer though. I’m happy for them now that I see it’s truly what they wanted, even if they didn’t realize it, but I can’t deny it’s caused our relationships to shift.”
“Like with Auden.”
“Yeah, exactly. He’s always had his girls, but they were with Tricia half the time, so when they were, we’d hang out. Now he has Keaton and his boys, and that makes things a lot more complicated to plan.”
It always struck me how consistently Marnin spoke of my two nieces as Auden’s girls when we both knew they were Marnin’s biologically. He simply never saw them as anything but my brother’s, and somehow, that never failed to make me emotional. It was a rare man who did something that selfless and didn’t even claim a little credit. “You’re the only single one left.”
He dragged a hand through his hair. “The fact that we were all single up until two years ago—though with Auden, I should say single again—was the anomaly. Most men our age are in a relationship. I’m the odd one out…which is fine by me.”
“You don’t ever want a relationship? And just so we’re clear, I’m asking this in general, not because I’m applying for the job. Which I’m not, so don’t worry.”
“Glad you cleared that up beforehand.” He grinned. “You know me well. But to be honest, no, I don’t think I’ll ever be in a long-term relationship.”
Had he deliberately answered ambiguously? Because thinking he’d never be in one wasn’t the same as not wanting one. “Can I ask why?”
He let out the longest sigh. “I’m not cut out for it. My mother abandoned me and my father… You don’t know what a piece of shit he was, Ennio. An abusive alcoholic is the kindest description, but I will spare you the details. How can anyone who comes from that ever hope to have a stable relationship?”
Was that what he’d been telling himself all these years? The thought filled me with sadness. “Because of genetics? Or because you never had a good example of what a relationship should look like?”
“Either. Both.”
“So what about Violet and Dani?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“They have your DNA. Are you saying they can’t be in a relationship either?”
His jaw was set tight. “Of course not. Don’t be obtuse.”
“I’m not. I’m simply saying that if it’s genetics, they should be worried since half their DNA is yours.”
“Yeah, but the other half is Tricia. Plus, they’re being raised by amazing parents. That cancels out whatever shitty genes they got from me.”
“Weren’t you raised as well by my dad and Sarah Frant? If you spent more time there than at your own home, like you told me, wouldn’t that make up for whatever you lack in genetics?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “That’s not… It’s not the same.”
“Why?”
“Fuck if I know, but it’s not. Those girls are… Jesus, Ennio, they’re beautiful, inside and out. So pure and perfect, so smart and kind. They’re the best thing I ever did in my life. Maybe the one good thing I did. But it was the least I could do for Auden after…”
I had no trouble filling in the blanks. “…after what he and his parents did for you.”
“Yeah.” He swallowed. “I know, rationally, I didn’t owe them. I know that. But it was hard not to feel like I did.”
“That’s a surprising statement from a guy who, by his own admission, prides himself on feeling as little as possible.”
He was quiet for a long, long time, staring at his hands as if they held the key to the universe. “I wasn’t always like that, but I had to become that way. I’m not sure I would’ve survived otherwise, at least emotionally. There’s only so many times you can get hurt before it permanently damages you, you know?”
Was he trying to kill me? Because my heart filled with so much softness for this man, so much empathy and love, that I didn’t know what to do with myself. I wanted to hug him, to hold him close more than anything, but he wouldn’t let me. I didn’t even ask. His body language made clear he was in full-on defensive mode.
So I sat with him until I somehow felt his tension ease. Only then did I get up. I walked over to him and pressed a kiss on his head. “Thank you for sharing this with me. I’m honored you let me in.”
Was it enough? No, nowhere near, but it was more than he’d ever shared with me before. It was a start.