Chapter 2
Nicole
Caring for Jaime is so much more challenging than I thought it would be. Partly because grief is complicated, and getting past it is different for everyone, and partly because I oversold my experience when trying for the position. It's true that I cared for my brother for years after our parents died, but Gio was already a teenager then, a detail I left out of the interview. Moreover, he was my little brother, meaning there was an already-established level of respect and trust. I am still a stranger to Jaime; one he is warming up to, but a new face all the same.
I watch him from the comfort of the couch, running his toy cars along the floor. He's mostly quiet in the mornings, which gives me time to read and work on my English. Though, I learn a lot more by simply talking and listening to him or watching his cartoons together. In a way, he teaches me just as much as I do him.
"Oh no," he says suddenly. "We're slipping off the road!"
I look up from my book in shock, realizing what he's reenacting. Quietly, I listen, my heart pounding.
"Don't worry, Mommy and Daddy, I'll save you," he says. He drifts the tiny red car around a toy minivan grasped in his other hand and safely skirts it to the side of the imaginary road.
I pause, unsure of what to say or do. I watch him for a moment. He looks at the car for a while, not saying anything. Then for some reason, maybe because he knows I heard, or maybe because he feels my eyes burning into the back of his head, he turns and looks at me. His big brown eyes are wide.
"I wish I could have saved them for real," he says, and my heart sinks. I put my book down and come close to him, pulling him tightly to my chest.
"I know you do, sweetheart. So do I. But you needn't worry. They are still around, looking down on you from the sky." My eyes water as I hold him close, and suddenly, I'm in Italy again, holding Gio as he cries over dinner. My sad excuse for pasta reminded him of Mom. We wept together all night.
"Uncle Shane says they're up there, too."
"Does he now?" I say, wiping tears from my eyes.
"Yeah. He says that now they look down on other people and try to save as many as they can from car accidents, so I don't need to be afraid of cars anymore."
"He's right," I say. And at that moment, Shane pops into my head. Maybe he isn't as hard and rough as he seems.
"Do you drive a car, Nicole?" Jaime asks.
"I used to, but not since I left Italy."
"Do you promise to wear a seatbelt?" he asks, pulling away from my chest and looking at me with his big brown eyes.
"Always, sweetheart," I tell him, stroking his soft brown hair and smiling, trying to stifle my tears.
"Thanks for the hug..." Jaime says. "But can I play now?"
"Sure thing, darling," I tell him, loosening my grip and letting him return to his toy cars.
I remember Gio again, asking me where I go each time I leave him, the look of fear in his eyes that I might never return. It makes me miss him dearly, and suddenly, I need to hear his voice.
I have had limited contact with Giovanni since I arrived. Raffaele warned me that the Serpenti were still after us, and any contact could put our lives in danger. I don't know how much of this is true or if it is just another attempt to control me. Aldo has promised to protect me and Giovanni under the Avvoltoi as long as we follow their rules and pay our dues. But the Avvoltoi are just as violent and deadly as the Serpenti, so trusting them completely would be foolish. My only way to communicate with Giovanni is through an emergency number directly to Raffaele, and I know firsthand how manipulative he can be.
What contact I have had since my arrival has been by way of short text messages with pictures of Giovanni attached. Raffaele even sends me pictures of himself as though we still have some romance going when, honestly, the mere thought of him sickens me. Since the last message, it has been a month, and every time I try to call back, there is no connection, probably because they use burner phones.
My involvement with the Avvoltoi has severely limited my ability to contact people back home. The fear of the syndicates has grown, especially as their blood wars continue to ravage Italy. Despite this, my parents have a few trusted contacts, other informants, who might be able to help me reach Gio, or at least provide updates on his well-being. I can only hope they remain loyal after all these years.
Cisca is my mom's oldest friend. She went into hiding after my parents' death. Before she disappeared, she gave me her number. I call her using a phone app that blocks my number and location. Raffaele taught me this trick before I left Italy in case I needed to contact him.
I call her first, allowing the phone to ring repeatedly, but no answer comes.
Next is Sophia, an old friend from the neighborhood. She's not as trustworthy as Cisca, but as the neighborhood gossip, she's a good source of information. I call the number I have scribbled on an old notebook paper and am immediately greeted by the familiar rasp of her voice.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Sophia... This is Nicolleta... Ludovica's daughter..."
An audible silence remains on the line; I can barely even hear her breathing.
"I lived just down the—"
"I know who you are. And why have you called me?"
"I... didn't know who else to contact. I'm in the South now hiding out, and I just wanted any information... Have you seen Gio around? Or heard anything of him?"
She goes silent again.
"If he's smart, he's hiding like you. No, girl, I know nothing of your brother, nor would I want to. What I do know is that the Serpenti left a message for every soul in this neighborhood to pass on to you—if we are brave enough not to turn you over, that is."
I hesitate for a moment, then finally speak. "What's the—"
"They say they are closer than you think, and if you know what's good, you'll find them and come clean before they find you." She goes silent once more, before adding, "Don't call here again."
The phone clicks in my face, and I'm left with the dead tone of the receiver at my ear. I hang up the phone and call back Cisca immediately. I let the phone ring as long as I can before it eventually disconnects.
Later at lunch, I read Jaime his favorite book while he sits at the table in front of his food. Stirred, afraid, and on the edge of breaking down, I still push on, keeping a happy face on for Jaime. He deserves that much. I look up from the book and notice he's not eating at all but sorting through his food and removing the mushrooms, placing them on a napkin next to the plate.
"You don't like mushrooms, bud?" I say to him.
He shakes his head left to right, pulling one impaled on his fork's end and tossing it atop the pile with the rest of them.
"I'll keep that in mind," I say with a smile, returning to the book. Every muscle in my body and nerve in my head urges me to get on the first flight to Italy and find my brother.
Hold it together, Nicole. Going back won't do anyone any good , I keep telling myself.
I continue with the story. "Lily and Jason walked through the garden toward the lake with only their map and trusty dog Spikey at their side," I say, mimicking my best narrator's voice.
"There's a big garden by my old house. It's got all kinds of flowers. Pink, purple, orange... I used to play there with the kids in my class," says Jaime.
"That's nice. Do you like flowers?"
"Sometimes, but too many give me agogries..."
I smile. "Yeah, I get allergies too."
"Uncle Shane doesn't take me out too much. But I'd really like to go to a park. I don't have any friends here, but maybe I could meet some there."
"I think it's a wonderful idea, Jaime."
"So can we go?"
"We'll see, sweetheart. You let me deal with grumpy Uncle Shane," I say, laughing.
He laughs in return, and for a few moments, all my concerns are lost in his smile. He goes back to his pasta, and I go back to the story.
Later that day I find Shane and tell him my thoughts on Jaime going out.
"I'm not sure, Nicole," Shane tells me. "He's just lost his parents, this is a new area, and the people here can be... usey..."
"Usey?" I question, glaring at him across the black wood desk of his home office, where Shane sits nestled deep in his black leather recliner.
"I'm not exactly just some banker," he responds. "Not to brag or put anyone else down, but I am a bit known. And people tend to want to attach themselves to me and those around me, sometimes not wholeheartedly."
"Right," I say. "So you don't want him to go out because... you think... children will know he's your nephew and take advantage of him?"
"Not just children, but their parents. Opportunists. I just want him to have friends who are truly friends. I could take him out to the property upstate, where there are plenty of gardens, and I could even arrange for some children to come and play with him, ones we can trust."
"You're not getting this," I respond. "He wants to go out and make friends, not have some arranged for him. He needs to explore the world again, to not be afraid of going out and meeting people. That means trusting them."
"I just feel it's too soon," he responds. "He's still fragile, and people will take advantage of that. I just..."
"You just hired me to help with these kinds of things, right? Do you think I'd let that happen?"
He goes silent, seemingly pondering my proposal.
"He isn't a business, Shane. There is no corporate approach you can use to help him, and you can't micromanage his life from your office across town."
I see his face grow hard; he doesn't like that. Too much, Nicole, I tell myself.
"He needs you to trust me and trust him," I add. "If you really want him to get better, to get on with his life, you need to start letting him live it again."
Shane exhales deeply, then looks me in the eyes. "Fine," he says. "You're right. I trust him and you. I give you full authority on this."
I smile. "Thank you, Shane," I say in my most sincere voice.
"Sure," he responds.
"Well, on another note, you'll be joining us for dinner, right?" I ask.
"Yeah, I think I can work that out," he responds. "But... if you'll excuse me, I need to take a call."
I give him a nod and turn to leave. As I walk out, I stop myself in the doorway and turn to look back at him. "You should try getting out a bit yourself," I say.
He looks at me but doesn't respond. I leave, closing the door behind me.
I find him on my mind again as I walk toward my bedroom. Getting through to him never seems to get easier. There is something there, I think. Something other than his sister or Jaime, something that shuts him down each time I try to dig deeper. A shame—his sharp frame and gorgeous features are all blurred by that cold and uncaring demeanor he carries. Still, I find myself wanting to touch him each time he's around.
Shane misses dinner again that night—another work call. He paces around the living room as I chat with Jaime about our upcoming park adventure. No matter how hard I try, I can't stop looking at him.