Chapter Twenty-Six
Rico’s text came through as Franco was walking into his apartment Saturday night.
RICO: How’s it looking for tonight or tomorrow?
He texted him back right away.
FRANCO: Rough day. Not sure.
He needed time to decompress. On top of the new investigation into a fire that might be related to the one that had killed the Richards family, they still didn’t seem to be any closer to finding the arsonist. At least no one had died in this garage fire, thanks to smoke detectors.
Where would the creep strike next?
He’d originally suspected the culprit to be some jealous teen or something far less sinister than what the DNA findings showed on some of the evidence they’d found.
RICO: Sorry to hear that. We’re having a blast. Miss you, Stud Muffin.
Franco couldn’t help but smile briefly, though he didn’t want to elaborate on his day in a text message. As if he could say much anyway. He grabbed a bottle of white wine from the fridge and filled a glass. Walking to the sliding glass doors leading to his balcony, he stared beyond the towering buildings and imagined the mountains to the west that separated him from Rico and Gina. God, he missed them terribly, despite the fact he’d been with them to play games last night.
Franco started to text something to that effect but didn’t. He was the reason for the distance that kept them apart at the moment.
Chugging half the glass, he paid no mind to the fact that he shouldn’t be guzzling the bottle Marc and Angelina had given him last Christmas. This vintage wine from Lombardy ought to be sipped and savored. But he didn’t foresee a time he’d be able to share it with Rico or anyone else.
The bottle would be toast by midnight—and so would he.
Franco wanted to get drunk and forget everything he’d seen and heard today. He rarely had more than a glass at dinner when Gina was around, but she wasn’t here tonight. He planned to cut loose and drown his sorrows.
The sun hovered above the peaks and the sky grew dark pink and red as he finished his first glass. Before he made it back to the fridge for a refill, his phone pinged.
RICO: We’re thinking about touring your old firehouse tomorrow morning. Join us?
He did a mental calculation to figure out which shift worked today. Damn. Logan would probably be on duty, unless he’d changed shifts since Franco left. Franco had no desire to ever see the man again. Logan had been a pain in the ass almost from the day Franco started working at the station. His snide remarks and under-the-breath innuendos about Franco’s lack of interest in dating women had been constant the entire time he’d worked there. In fact, he’d been one of the reasons Franco had transferred to the fire investigation unit in Denver sooner rather than later.
The pressure of living the lie right under his brother’s nose had become more difficult as well. He didn’t want to have Logan harassing Matteo next about Franco’s probably being gay. While Franco hadn’t been the only single man in the firehouse, for some reason the guy’s gaydar must have been on high alert. Or maybe he’d just been pissed that Franco refused to date his sister.
Franco should have just fessed up and admitted to Matteo and the rest of the family he was gay long ago. In retrospect, it would have been a lot easier. But the longer he stayed entrenched in the closet, the harder it became to finally open up to the people he loved.
The ping of his phone pulled him away from his thoughts.
RICO: Still there?
Should he risk Matteo or Gina overhearing some homophobic smart-ass remark Logan made to him, or wait and come out to Matteo later under his own terms?
FRANCO: Sorry. Work’s still a little hectic. I may need to go into the office to catch up in the morning.
Doms don’t lie to their subs.
And Franco identified as Rico’s Dom now, despite last Sunday’s aborted scene.
RICO: See you at Mama J’s then?
Franco felt like a heel for missing an opportunity to spend the entire day with Rico and Gina in order to avoid someone who didn’t matter in the least.
FRANCO: Sure. I plan to be there.
He’d never stand Mama up if he could help it. Speaking of Mama, Franco decided it was time to take care of something else first. He found another contact on his favorites list.
FRANCO: Mama, are you free tomorrow morning? I need to talk.
Despite his assurances to Mama that what he needed to talk about could wait until morning, she’d probably worried all night about his cryptic text. She’d told him to come over for breakfast as early as he wanted, because Paul would be on duty. He didn’t want to make his big announcement in front of Mama’s new husband.
So as not to prolong Mama’s anxiety any longer than necessary, Franco left Denver for Breckenridge at six-thirty Sunday morning. He hadn’t been able to sleep anyway. Maybe he should have polished off that bottle of wine after all, but he’d stopped after that first glass.
Still, he sat in his truck a good ten minutes in her parking lot before getting up the nerve to walk up to Mama’s condo door.
When he knocked, she opened it almost immediately. “What’s wrong, Bambino?”
Franco smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning, Mama. Can’t a son visit his mama without something being wrong?” Franco smelled coffee, eggs, and pancetta.
“Don’t good morning me. I haven’t slept a wink all night. Come and sit down.”
Mama led him straight to the kitchen. “Breakfast will be ready as soon as the frittatas come out of the oven.”
Damn. Mama didn’t make frittatas unless she was super stressed. “You didn’t have to go all out.”
She stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. “What do you mean? I just made a light breakfast.” He saw homemade muffins on the table—blueberry and perhaps cranberry, his favorites. The orange juice squeezer was on the counter and a full pitcher of OJ sat on the table.
She’d taken out her anxiety preparing a feast for him. Franco’s guilt grew even stronger at having made her think the worst. “I’m sorry I worried you, Mama.”
She waved away his apology. “It’s not the first time, Bambino, and probably won’t be the last. Now, sit. Tell me what’s going on. Is everything okay with Rico and Gina?”
That she’d been concerned about them and connected Franco to them made him smile. “They’re fine. They’re at Matteo’s.”
“I know. I just thought perhaps someone had gotten hurt riding or something.” She cocked her head. “Why aren’t you with them?”
“Because I’m here.”
Mama rolled her eyes at his lame response. “Yes, but why?”
Franco gestured for Mama to have a seat. He had wanted to wait until the food was ready to delve into this conversation, but Mama needed to hear what he’d come to say sooner rather than later, or she wouldn’t be able to enjoy the meal she’d prepared.
“Mama, I don’t mean to blurt this out, but I’ve been keeping something from you my entire adult life.” Even longer, perhaps. “I don’t want anything to change our relationship. I love you so much.” Franco’s throat tightened up as he placed his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze.
“Now I’m even more worried. What could ever change our relationship for the worse?”
Just as with Rafe last weekend, his carefully planned speech went out the window. Stalling, he glanced at the refrigerator where she had displayed two ultrasound baby pictures in matching magnetic frames. “I’m never going to give you grandkids like Tony and Matteo are about to, and as Angelina and Rafe probably will eventually.”
Mama blinked a few times before she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “What?”
Okay, that wasn’t the way he’d planned to start this conversation.
Just tell her straight out.
Haha. Too late to think about being straight at this point.
Stop stalling.
He had no trouble talking to himself, apparently. “Mama, I should have said something to you years ago, but I never knew how, and then it just became easier to hide it from you and everyone else.”
“You aren’t sick, are you?”
At the stricken look on Mama’s face, he quickly assured her that wasn’t the issue. Franco sat up a little taller in his chair. “Actually, Mama, nothing is wrong with me. Things are finally starting to fall into place in my life. Everything’s turning out great. Better than I could have dreamed.”
She cocked her head. “Then what did you want to talk to me about this morning?”
Mama must be used to all of her kids coming to her for advice in a crisis. But he still hadn’t told her what he’d come to say, so he wasn’t out of the woods yet.
He leaned closer. “It’s about Rico and me.”
“Oh, Franco.” He held his breath. Tears welled in Mama’s eyes before a slow smile lit up her face. “I’ve been hoping you two would wake up and see how perfect you are together.”
“Wait. What? You know I’m gay too?”
She gave a half shrug. “I’ve had my suspicions since you were in high school.”
“Hell, I didn’t even know back then.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure and worried about how difficult your life would be if it were the case.”
“What tipped you off?”
Mama smiled. “Nonna, actually. She noticed how neat you kept your room when you stayed with her in Palermo, and how you had to iron and match everything in your wardrobe. Your brothers couldn’t have cared less.”
“That doesn’t equate with being gay, though. Maybe I was just a neat freak.”
“Well, I noticed other things as you grew older, like how you never really talked about dating girls. Again, that’s all your brothers cared about, other than sports. Even though you did take several girls to proms and such, you never mentioned them again after one date.”
Mama sighed, her smile growing wider. “Then there was your friendship with Rico, which seemed to be closer than with any of your other friends, male or female. Of course, none of this meant you were gay, but it planted a seed in my head. I remained curious but uncertain how to talk with you about it. What if I was wrong?”
Franco hadn’t realized he’d telegraphed himself so thoroughly. Was that why Mama never had the talk with him?
“On the other hand, what if I was right? I think I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to provide the kind of support you needed. I’m still not sure I can begin to understand what you’ve gone through. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Franco.” Mama laid her hand on his cheek, and he placed his over hers.
“Honestly, Mama, I’m glad you didn’t say anything back then. I had to figure things out for myself. Besides, this wasn’t something a boy wanted to talk with his mother about.” He gave her a half grin.
Mama’s cheeks grew red. He hadn’t seen her blush before, except around Paul when she first started to date him.
“I worried about all of you, but I left it to Papa to handle the talk with the boys after I felt so inept at it with Rafe.”
Franco laughed. “Papa’s words didn’t work on me as effectively as the others, but Rafe tried with me too. Ultimately, though, it was Rico’s information that stuck with me when the time came. He always shared in great detail what steps he had to take to avoid infections, and he went far beyond the minimum of wearing condoms.”
Mama glanced down at the table, clearly not comfortable discussing this with her son. “Well, at least you received the information from someone you could trust. I’d have been devastated if you’d contracted HIV or AIDS.”
That was the tip of the iceberg as far as what he could contract if he wasn’t careful, but he wouldn’t go into that with Mama.
She met his gaze again. “You’re staying safe then?”
“Very. Things are different now than they were even five years ago. There’s a fairly new preventative drug and several effective treatments now.”
Franco had been taking PrEP for nearly three years, soon after the breakthrough drug had been approved. And he got tested regularly for any STIs.
Mama patted his cheek. “That gives me great comfort. Thank you. I’ve worried about all of my children who were sexually active. I try not to live in denial about these things, but never felt completely comfortable talking about it openly, either.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about me, Mama.”
Mama relaxed again now that the discussion of sex appeared to be behind them. “When you and Rico were in school, I thought you’d remain lifelong friends, if nothing more. But you grew apart after you went to college, and that seemed to be the end of it.”
“Mostly because I was hiding from myself.” Franco leaned closer. “You’d be okay with us being together, if anything comes of this?”
“Of course! I love Rico like a fifth son. And Gina has become a granddaughter to me. How could I not be okay?” She paused, then asked with an expectant tone, “Does this mean you and Rico are dating?”
“Not exactly, but we’d like to. We tried to begin a relationship last summer but had to put it on the back burner. Michelle and Gina came ahead of any other commitments, and rightly so. But I’ve been spending time with them since September, and my bond with Rico has grown deeper than with anyone else I’ve ever dated.”
Mama smiled. “I’ve seen how much you care about them whenever I’ve been around the three of you.”
Franco nodded. “I’m tired of hiding how I feel about him. With Gina settling into her new circumstances, Rico and I would like to see where this relationship will take us.”
“Good. You both deserve some happiness. Rico had it hard among his peers at school, but you remained a steadfast friend throughout. I hoped life would be easier for you, if you were indeed gay, but I can’t say that I was certain until more recently.”
“Last weekend?” He should have known they hadn’t fooled anyone, especially not Mama.
“When I saw the two of you deep in conversation at Angelina’s rehearsal dinner, I became hopeful.” Franco recalled catching up with Rico then but hadn’t put out any dating vibes at the time, had he?
“Then, of course, you called me from Rico’s place when Michelle was near death. I was so glad that he could lean on your strong shoulders at such a difficult time.”
“It meant a lot for me to be able to help, but you were the real hero.”
Mama waved his words away. “But I have to say that, finding you together at Rico’s house last weekend looking a little…flustered…”
That’s putting it mildly.
“…I hoped there might finally be a romance brewing.
“I hoped you’d come to me, like you’re doing this morning.” Mama looked slightly perturbed that it had taken him so long. “But you needed to figure it out without any interference from me. It helped that I knew Rico. He was the only openly gay person I was aware of back then.”
“Rico helped me to understand what it meant to be gay too,” Franco admitted. He looked away. “It took me a long time to accept who I was.” Franco met Mama’s gaze again. “But I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about having a gay son.”
Mama stroked his cheek, then tapped his face in a half-hearted slap as if admonishing him for saying or thinking such a thing. “You are my son, Bambino. That means I will love you unconditionally until the day I die. All I have ever wanted was for my children to be happy.”
“Thanks, Mama. That means a lot to me.”
Now he needed to broach a more sensitive subject. He drew a deep breath and let it out before asking, “Did Papa suspect that I was gay?”
“I don’t think so. If so, he never said anything to me.”
Franco fiddled with a loose thread on his jeans. “I overheard something he said one time.” Franco swallowed hard, but the pounding of his heart made it difficult.
“What did you overhear?”