3.
C ONSTANCE
“It’s been a month, Constance. If something was going to change, it would have already. It’s time for you to pull your head out of your ass and start living. That can happen in Colorado or New York, just as long as it happens now.”
“Dad . . .”
“I gave you a month to grieve, sweetheart.”
“I’m sure Bex had something to do with that. Did she give you an end date for how long you had to wait to start badgering me?”
“You realize that the rest of the world has a certain amount of respect and, dare I say, fear where I’m concerned, correct?”
“I’m your kid. I’ve got plenty of respect, but I’ve never learned to fear you,” I said honestly.
Dad’s smile lit up the screen before he said, “Hearing you say that and knowing you believe it makes me happier than almost anything else in the world.”
Yes, my father was a feared mafia crime boss .
. . ahem . . . businessman. The family business was his life, but I knew in my heart he’d give it all up for his children, and now Bex and Rory, since they’d come into the picture.
Of course, there were secrets buried in my family.
This time, those secrets had nothing to do with illegal activities or plotting against other mafia families and the authorities.
Instead, they revolved around the fact that the young man who would now be considered my stepbrother was really much more than that.
But that didn’t matter in the long run, because family is family, blood or not, and I loved mine to distraction.
Even when my father tried to organize my life to fit his expectations and standards.
“You need to come home, Stan.”
I shook my head before I said, “I’m making Colorado my home, Dad.
You’ll see why when you visit. I’ve got a beautiful house that I’m making into a home, I’ve made some wonderful friends you’re going to love, and I’ve found that sitting outside where it’s quiet without the noise of traffic is great therapy. ”
“That all sounds great, but let’s make that a vacation home rather than your permanent residence. Your home is with your family, Stan, not a thousand miles away in a cave on the mountain.”
I burst out laughing and asked, “Do you really think your demanding daughter would be living in a cave?”
“You’re not nearly as pretentious as you pretend to be, although the thought of you hiking in the mountains and becoming one with nature is almost laughable.”
“I’ve started rock climbing!”
Dad sighed and looked at the ceiling in exasperation before he asked, “On actual mountains or in a gym somewhere connected to a safety harness?”
“So far, it’s in the gym, but I’ve hired a guide to help us learn to climb outdoors.”
“Us?”
“Sho and Avi are doing it with me. Of course, they’re already much better at it than I am, probably because of their background and the fact that I am a tad bit high-maintenance, which is something that they tease me about mercilessly.”
“Did they find this hobby to redirect you from the destructive path you were finding on your own?” Dad asked.
“The therapist you insisted I start seeing helped with that.”
For the last month, I had been dealing with the stages of grief. It was inevitable since Park didn’t remember anything about our relationship after his surgery, just his life before I was his princess he was tasked with guarding.
I thought that was a little much, but that’s what the therapist had labeled it because grieving a relationship was akin to losing a loved one.
Granted, my relationship with Park and Sully hadn’t been going on for very long, but it was one I had faith in and planned my future around.
When it suddenly went from “be safe, I love you” to sitting by their hospital beds fearing that one or both of them might die, our relationship took an immediate and drastic turn.
I went from being the protected one to being the protector, fighting for the best care while trying to navigate what their prognosis would mean for our future.
I came to play the part of a trusted friend who was witnessing a relationship between two men who loved each other and had forgotten how I fit into the equation.
That didn’t negate my feelings for them, but it did change our path.
Sully was making progress every day, from learning the simple tasks like feeding himself to building his muscles so that he may walk again someday.
Park was going through his own version of that, working on his fine motor skills and learning to walk after so much time being bedridden and confined to a wheelchair.
And I was on the sidelines, cheering them on - a good friend who wanted the best for them, rather than the woman they loved that made their lives complete.
I’d gone through the stages of grief and, according to my therapist, invented a few new ones.
I first denied that there could be anything but a perfect future with the three of us together before I moved on to rage at the world and even my father for the injuries they received.
I’d tried to bargain with God, promising that if he’d just give them back to me, I’d be the perfect woman for them, and then got even more angry when that didn’t work.
I’d found unhealthy outlets for my depression. There were days when I could barely make myself get out of bed and other times when I went out on the town and acted irresponsibly, drinking too much and all that entailed.
However, I didn’t go as far as some people during my reckless phase.
Two angry female guards and a rabid Italian man in a suit were better than any other form of contraception because they didn’t let lone hook-ups or one-night stands happen, no matter how much my drunk self argued that that was what I wanted to do.
I’d fired each of them no less than a dozen times, mostly when I’d been drinking, but they forgave me and gave me shit about it as often as they could.
Luckily, a visit from my Aunt Frankie and her entourage made me see the light, which was good because if I hadn’t found it on my own, they’d probably have kidnapped me and dragged me toward it anyway.
According to my therapist, I had finally found acceptance, which meant that I could move on. In theory, that sounded wonderful, but I still felt like I was in a holding pattern. Continuing onward wasn’t even on my radar.
Yes, I had accepted the fact that my relationship with Park and Sully would never be the same and most likely wouldn't exist at all if I didn’t visit them often and insert myself into almost every aspect of their recovery.
Of course, my therapist had a field day with that because she insisted that I wasn’t staying with them out of love.
Yes, there was still love there, but it was a new love that had been stunted before it had time to really grow into lasting love.
But there was a lot of guilt mixed into the equation too.
Guilt for things that were completely out of my control, which turned into anger directed at my father and the rest of The Four Families organization.
Without them, Park and Sully wouldn't have been shot, but I also would never have met the men in the first place.
All in all, I felt better about things, if a little dizzy from circling back and forth between anger and blame and then acceptance and forgiveness.
With that in mind, I’d also stopped trying to drown my feelings with alcohol, which was good because even I knew I was spiraling into what would soon become addiction. That was the last freaking thing I needed to deal with.
I glanced at the clock in the corner of my computer screen and gasped before I said, “I’ve got to go, Dad! I have a meeting with Sully’s doctors in less than an hour.”
“I love you, sweet girl. I’m sending you a care package that will arrive this afternoon.”
“Aww. Thanks, Dad. I love you, and I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“I love you, too, sweetheart. Say hello to Park for me.” Dad swallowed hard before he said, “And Sully too.”
I clearly wasn’t the only one that felt guilty about the men’s condition. I knew my father was feeling it too.
“I’ll do that. I can’t wait to see what you sent me! You always give the most thoughtful presents.”
Dad’s chuckle worried me a bit, but I didn’t have time to ask him about it before he ended the video call and his smiling face disappeared.
“What is that about, I wonder,” I muttered as I shut my laptop and pushed away from my desk.
I took a quick second to appreciate the beauty that was just outside my office window and then left my suite to find either Sho or Avi who would be accompanying me today since it was Ciro’s day off.
I ran back into the office to grab my notebook because I knew I’d need to take notes when I met with the doctors.
I’d learned early on in this medical journey that documentation was everything, and my notebook had become very important in helping me do that.
It had lists of questions, answers, and possibilities.
Today, it even had the grocery list I would need when I went to the store after the meeting.
Life may not be what I had imagined, but it was still full of things I needed to get done. I was slowly learning to do those tasks myself rather than depend on others to complete them for me.
As crazy as that sounded, I loved the opportunity. That was one of the main reasons why I knew I’d never go back to New York. It would be too easy to fall back into that old pattern.
Colorado was my home now, and I loved it here.
◆◆◆
RIN
“Man, these are amazing!” Charlie, the young patient I’d been working with as part of the non-profit I’d started with some of the other artists at the shop, said as he held his custom painted leg braces. “I just love ‘em. They look really cool!”