Chapter 36 #4
My father was adopted. I have fond memories of my Nonno and Nonna before they moved back to Italy.
They were so giving… always trying to feed us.
From what I understand, they wanted a big family.
My father joined the family as a baby; however, no more siblings ever came along. It was just he and his brother.
This still doesn’t explain the message on the board, Uncle Nicholas Lie. Is he lying to himself? The family?
“I looked into the Lombardi name recently. The articles speculate that the Mafia must have worked with another crime family, seeing how similar criminal activity was happening, simultaneously throughout the city. Maybe there was a falling out or the rivaling gang wanted more power?!”
Andrea sips from her mug for an exceptionally long period of time, as I follow her eyes hopping from either side of the room.
My gaze narrows… I know that look. “Just say it!” I implore.
She tilts her head back, draining every drop of liquid from her cup, before attempting to speak. “I know who the ‘other’ gang is.”
I can’t help but spin away from her, my hands naturally tossing themselves skyward. “Damnit, Andrea… we’re trying to figure out what this all means in regards to Theo. Can you stop withholding every other thing from me?!”
She shows me her bottom teeth with a stupid grin. Then continues, “remember how I told you to stay away from Eamon?”
I raise an eyebrow. “And…?”
Andrea gestures with a suggestive tilt of her chin toward the board.
My eyes scan the writing on the wall. “The Murray family?!” I exclaim.
Her face winces all the while her waving hands raise to the air, twisting at the wrists, as she signs applause.
I groan, hand dragging down my face, as if it could wipe away my exhaustion.
A padded room is looking more like a vacation by the day.
In my wildest dreams, I never could have made this shit up.
Not only do I reign from a Mafia family, but I’m also employed by a group of criminals, who just so happened to have worked with the Lombardis in the past. Uncapping a cobalt-blue marker, I write “Murray Family” between Eamon and Mairead’s name.
I recap the marker, turning to face my roommate but she's disappeared into her room, probably trying to avoid the impending question.
How do you know so much? Not long after she shut herself in, she emerges once again.
Andrea holds a strappy briefcase in one hand; while dressed in an all-black pantsuit, obviously heading off to work.
“I have to go,” she informs me plainly.
As if it was a regular day, as if she didn’t just turn my world upside down moments prior. I’m beyond repair. Shattered to pieces by the sheer weight of the reality that has been thrust upon me. Now she just wants to mosey off to work?! I can’t just grin and bear, I need answers.
“We’re going to revisit this whole subject on how you know so much about all of this.” Unable to face my supposed best friend, I survey the white board. For what? I have no idea.
Andrea ignores my declaration. “I plan to install the security system tonight. Please, don’t let anyone in and I strongly suggest you don’t bother going to work.”
That’s rich! She gets to run off but I don’t? I chew on my lip… still focused on the board, “Whatever you say.” Without even looking in her direction, I’m able to hear the exaggerated exhale, followed by the sound of the door slamming and the dead bolt turning.
She can’t possibly believe I will stay put. If she gets to come and go as she pleases, while keeping secrets from me, then I will find my own answers. Which means… I will be going to work today, instead of sitting on my hands and doing nothing. I’ve gotten this far haven’t I?
Even as I shower without my hearing aids, it’s still never fully silent.
My ears ring with bells I don’t wish to hear.
Over the years, I’ve tried to drown out the sound by listening to music, practicing therapeutic techniques, or even praying for that thing my ears do when they go offline…
only then am I rewarded with a few blissful moments of quiet.
It’s funny how others perceive being hard of hearing means your world is tranquil.
Nothing could be further from the truth…
at least for me. There’s no optional mute button.
Facing the shower head, I fill my mouth with water and spit it out.
I used to do this as a kid. Back when I had little to worry about other than what I should draw next…
holding the water briefly, until it trickles from the corners of my mouth as a smile forms. A pained chuckle rattles through me under the warm rain.
How the hell did I get here? Never in my life had I expected to come across the real-life Mafia, let alone be the child of a mob boss.
If Eamon and his family are or were accomplices to the Lombardis, clearly Dax must know about everything.
Without fault, he’s always come to my rescue.
He… the nickname rushes back to me. He calls me Princess.
Of course, he knew who I was, but… who is he?
Other than a part of the Murray gang. How does Dax fit into all of this?
Good vs. bad… there’s no black and white here, but a spectrum of gray where these men lie.
Eamon has been helpful, but the Murray family has been painted almost enemies to the Lombardis.
Are Dax’s intentions with me pure? I can’t help but question motives, when there are still so many unknowns.
Pushing ahead I need to be careful, not only with my life, but my heart as well.
My once delirious laugh has morphed into practiced breaths through tiny streams of water.
Attempting to work past the deep wounds, all the lies have cut into me.
I haven’t been able to rely on my ability to hear for a long time, instead I need to put my trust in what I see.
I watch as the sudsy water swirls counterclockwise down the drain between my feet.
Like an omen that everything I once held onto, will likely be swept away and lost forever.
I have to believe Andrea is on my side, but it’s also very convenient how she only reveals what I first stumble upon myself.
Deception is lying and it hurts even more when someone you thought you knew is the creator of your mistrust.
With the edge of my towel, I make a portal within the condensation of the bathroom mirror.
My reflection is a canvas of both my parents.
High cheek bones from my father, clear eyes courtesy of my mother, and a stubborn cowlick which seems to have only graced my brother and I.
While I’m stuck with school-age bangs for the foreseeable future, Theo had an effortless shaggy hairstyle which looked great even when he just woke up.