Chapter 18 #2
Smiling, she turned towards Rocco at the counter, and after he’d hugged Carla and shaken Patrick’s hand one last time and they were gone, along with Giana and her two coffees, Will looked at him.
“Well, that’s done,” he said.
“You look relieved,” Enzo said. “Did you talk to them about it?”
“A little,” Will said. “But we’ll have to talk more, later.
They’re off to Tybee, finally. But I do know it’s not over.
They’re still getting used to the idea that I’m not a doormat or an employee they can order around.
When they do . . .we’ll talk. But for now, I gotta go to work.
Kate came in early to do the prep instead of me, but . . .”
Enzo didn’t need Will to explain. He understood. “I get it. I have work to do, too. I told my mom I’d find her later, tonight, and we’ll talk too.”
“Alright.” Will looked even more relieved then. He tucked a hand around Enzo’s waist, and he tilted his face up towards Will’s. “You okay?”
“Happy the truth’s out, to be honest,” Enzo said. “I didn’t realize it was bothering me, until it was, until . . .”
“Yeah,” Will agreed. He leaned in and brushed a lingering kiss against Enzo’s mouth. “I guess I’ll see you later tonight, at home?” He flushed, like he wasn’t used to saying it, and Enzo had to admit that he wasn’t used to hearing it.
“Yeah,” he said. “At home.”
Will smiled. “That’s gonna take some getting used to, isn’t it?”
“In the best kinda way.” Enzo kissed him again, a little longer this time, ignoring Rocco’s semi-outraged squawk across the bakery.
“Yeah.” Will looked bashful and sweet about it, and Enzo didn’t think he’d ever get tired of that look. Like he couldn’t quite believe that he’d be coming home to Enzo—or that Enzo would be coming home to him.
Once upon a time, Enzo had imagined that feeling would be the death of a relationship. But instead, with Will, it felt like the beginning.
Enzo was going to see a thousand shades of blue in his dreams, tonight.
His hands were splattered with royal and indigo and sky and every color in-between, but when he finally climbed down from the scaffolding, the swirling sea between Eliza’s perch and the town was almost done.
When he gazed up at it, the colors still vibrant even in the growing dusk, pride swamped him. This never got old, seeing his vision come to life. The story in his mind taking solid form, hopefully lighting up the imagination of everyone who walked by this and saw it.
Tomorrow, he’d just need to add a few final touches, and he’d get to move on to the tall-masted sailing ship, and Nathaniel, floating on a broken-off spar.
Enzo leaned back, stretching out his back and then his hands, beginning to pack up his supplies.
A few minutes later, he stuck his head into Cherry’s, saw the long line nearly reaching the door and stepped right back out. He’d talk to Will later, when he wasn’t slammed.
After he walked home and he ducked into his own apartment for a shower, he glanced over at the main house, which was, as it often seemed to be these days, dark.
“Ugh,” Enzo muttered. He shed his paint-stained clothes, throwing them right into the washer before heading to the shower. Right before he got in, he texted his mom, but sure enough, when he was done and dressed, he’d gotten no response.
“Fine,” he said out loud. “Fine, I can go find her.” He needed to find some food anyway, so he’d cross two things off his list while he was at it.
She’d mentioned seeing Joy earlier—admittedly, hours and hours earlier, but Enzo decided, after swinging by the deli and picking up a sub, that was probably the best place to start.
But tonight, the wraparound porch was empty. No Giana. No Joy. Enzo was about to turn and leave, maybe eat his sub in the park, when he heard voices inside.
He pushed the door open, and stopped, right there in his tracks.
Because just inside, in the dim light of the reception area, was his mom.
And Joy.
And they were kissing.
Splat.
His sub fell out of his suddenly numb fingers, and they both looked up, surprise and trepidation written across both their faces.
Enzo didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything at all.
Just stared.
At where Joy’s arm was still wrapped around his mother’s waist.
Giana spoke first, but not before doing the opposite of what Enzo expected. Instead of disentangling herself from Joy’s embrace, she leaned in closer. Like she didn’t want to let her go. Like they were partners, a team.
Enzo had felt that way with Will, just this morning.
“Enzo, darling,” she said softly, “I wanted to tell you the truth. I was going to tell you, actually, tonight, but we got . . .” She hesitated. Clammed up.
Enzo swallowed hard. “Please don’t say you got carried away, Mom,” he said.
It was easier to banter with her like he always did than face head-on the truths that were currently, blatantly, in front of his face.
His mom was not straight.
Oliver’s mom was not straight.
And they were not straight together.
“I won’t then,” Giana said. She glanced up at Joy. “I do need to talk to him, though, and you said—”
“Yes,” Joy agreed, nodding. “I’ll talk to Oliver. Tonight.”
They kissed again, briefly, but thoroughly enough Enzo felt his whole world re-aligning around him.
He swallowed hard. “I’ll just be . . .uh .
. .outside then.” He turned, nearly tripped over his sandwich, picking it up in its paper-wrapped bundle at the last second, and managed to get outside, to the far end of the patio, with no more accidents.
Because he really wasn’t thinking right now.
If he thought . . .well.
He just wasn’t going to think about it. No good could come from him doing any thinking whatsoever right now.
Of course, with the way his mom approached, wringing her hands and looking like she wanted to bare her soul, Enzo had a feeling the opposite was in the cards for him.
He settled down on one of the long couches and she sat, right next to him.
“I’m sorry you had to find out that way,” she said quietly.
Enzo had seen his mother a whole lot of ways. Since his dad had never been around, he’d only known her. He thought he’d witnessed every possible mood she possessed but he didn’t think he’d ever seen this one before. Almost like she was diminished.
Ashamed.
And holy hell, that was not going to work. Not now, not ever.
“Mom, you know I don’t care right? I don’t care if you go around kissing a hundred women. A thousand. Or . . .” Don’t think, don’t think. “Whatever you want to do with them.” I only care that you didn’t care enough to tell me.
“I know you don’t, but it’s . . .it’s a huge adjustment,” Giana said.
“And it’s new. So we’re still working our way through it.
It’s why we didn’t tell you or Oliver yet.
Or anyone. But it’s one of the reasons I pushed so hard to have you come home.
When I did tell you, I wanted to do it in person. ”
And not only why she’d pushed so hard to get him home, Enzo realized.
Why she’d pushed so hard with Will.
She was happy; she wanted him happy.
It was hard to be so frustrated and hurt, after that particular realization crossed his mind.
“You’re happy?” Enzo reached out and grasped her hand, squeezed it. “That’s all I care about. You happy.”
“I am. Happier than I’ve been . . .” Giana sighed then, and there were those Moretti heart-eyes, the ones he liked to tease Luca about all the time. The ones he probably shared with them now, whenever he looked at Will. “Probably in forever.” She paused. “No, the happiest I’ve been, period.”
“That’s all that matters.”
“Your father . . .” Giana trailed off.
But they didn’t need to talk about him. He’d never been present in their lives. Giana had raised him entirely on her own, and whenever he’d asked, as a precocious and inquisitive kid, where that half of the family was, she’d told him firmly that they were better off not knowing them.
He’d always believed her—and he believed her now.
“You don’t need to explain to me,” Enzo said.
She looked surprised. “No?”
Enzo had always known that things might’ve been a lot different if he hadn’t grown up in his idyllic town—admittedly a town that had driven him nuts, but still, he couldn’t complain about his childhood—if she’d allowed his dad’s family to be a part of their lives.
“No,” Enzo said firmly.
Some of the anxiety in her eyes dissipated. “So you’re not upset.”
“How could I be? What did you say to me when I came out to you? I was, what, twelve? Thirteen?”
“I said okay, I love you no matter what.”
“Exactly,” Enzo said. Paused. “Okay, I love you no matter what.”
She beamed, and there was the woman he knew.
“I mean, it’s going to be a little weird,” Enzo continued, giving her a wry grin. “Did you have to date Oliver’s mother?”
Giana laughed then. “I suppose it’s good you didn’t end up with him.”
“For many, many reasons,” Enzo said.
She patted his sandwich. “Eat your dinner. You’re practically wasting away in front of me.”
He hadn’t thought he’d want to, but his stomach was grumbling so he unwrapped half and began to eat. Between bites he said, “You know, Mom, just because you’re happy doesn’t mean you get to dictate other people’s happiness.”
“I didn’t,” she said, all false bravado. “You’re the one who fell for him.”
“I did, and I probably would’ve no matter what. But. But. You got lucky, Mom. You interfered and it could’ve been a total disaster.”
“But it wasn’t!” she interjected.
“But it could have been. And we could’ve been running around town, pretending to be in love but not even liking each other, because you wouldn’t quit hounding us about it.”
Enzo hated being so harsh with her, but he was going to be around Indigo Bay more. Around her more. He needed to re-establish their boundaries. Because he couldn’t risk her meddling in his relationship again. Not when Will meant so much to him. Not when he wanted it to work out so badly with him.