CHAPTER 39
Cat Out Of The Bag
Gabriela
Anna dropped me off at my parents’ home in the early evening.
I bounded up the porch steps with Luna’s carrier in one hand and my new black purse in the crook of my elbow. I couldn’t wait to show it to Mamma. She was going to foam at the mouth when she saw the structured crocodile skin patterned beauty with pretty gold buckles.
It was a gift from Hunter. One I found this morning sitting on my coffee table with a sweet handwritten note.
Good morning, doll.
You mentioned needing a new purse and I snooped through the wish list on your laptop last week. I hope you like it.
—Your pretty boy
Suffice to say, I didn’t need a new purse, per se—I just wanted one—and as always, Hunter indulged me. I loved him. The note was now taped to my fridge with a heart-shaped magnet and I would cherish his gift forever.
Unlocking the front door, I entered my childhood home and called out, “Honeyyy, I’m home!”
Silence welcomed me.
I frowned as I toed off my red bottom pumps in the foyer and put on indoor kitten heels.
Opening Luna’s carrier so she could roam freely, I hollered again, “Mamma?”
No response.
Huh.
That was odd.
I headed over to the kitchen to unload a bottle of red wine and a chocolate box from an actual ma?tre chocolatier’s shop for the special occasion.
I sent Mamma a text thirty minutes ago to let her know I’d be coming over earlier than anticipated. Mostly to ease my nerves and make sure everything was in order for tonight’s dinner. It wasn’t every day that your family met your boyfriend for the first time. This was a huge milestone.
I wanted Hunter to like my family. And more than anything, I wanted my family to love and accept him the way I had.
I wasn’t worried about the women in my family.
Out of sheer excitement, Mamma insisted on preparing a three-course meal, Nonna made her famous tiramisu, and Papà?
He was bringing his judgemental self and a loaded gun like a typical mob man.
Luna followed me when I ascended the stairs to the second floor in search of her grandmother.
Mamma’s car was in the driveway; therefore, she was home.
Maybe she was busy getting ready and that’s why she wasn’t answering me.
Regardless, I had every intention of barging into her room and smothering her with my affection.
I hadn’t seen her in ten days and I missed her.
A prickling sensation ignited goosebumps on my skin in a foreboding manner as I padded down the hallway leading to her bedroom. My instinct told me something was awry, especially when my hand closed around her doorknob and I heard an odd, dissonant thump, thump, thump sound.
With fear drumming in my chest, I shoved the door open.
And came face-to-face with every child’s worst nightmare.
At first, I was frozen at the threshold, unbelieving.
Two seconds later, I actually registered the horrendous sight.
Mamma.
Papà.
Moaning. Dirty-talking. Having sex under the covers.
I screamed, horrified.
Their heads whipped in my direction and they screamed too.
I screamed louder, with Luna joining the chorus.
“Cristo Santo!” I wailed and covered my eyes, whirling around. “What have I done in my life to deserve coming home to this blasphemy!”
“Gabriela!” they yelled angrily in unison.
“Lord, forgive me for I have accidentally sinned by stumbling upon the most vomit-inducing scene!” I exclaimed, my voice booming.
Blood pumped through my veins furiously as I stomped down the hallway.
“Where’s the bleach in this house? I need to forget ever having witnessed this immoral, extramarital act that will leave me scarred forever! ”
I all but ran to the kitchen with Luna hot on my heels, fighting the urge to gag.
I was going to be sick.
God, please, just take me. Right now. I’m not one of your strongest soldiers. I don’t think I can ever come back from this.
But God had other plans for me, so my only solution was uncorking the wine bottle I bought and pouring myself a healthy amount.
My cat meowed by my feet, eyes wide. She was judging her grandparents too.
“I know, Luna, I’m just as disgusted as you.” My hand shook as I brought the wineglass to my mouth for a sip.
I hadn’t even swallowed when the two culprits hastened down the stairs, their faces flushed. Mamma wore a silk robe in a hurry and Papà a pair of inside-out linen pants.
“Gabriela, per favore,” Mamma cried, entering the kitchen. “It’s not what it looks like!”
“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Papà retaliated, shooting Mamma a mild glare. At least he had the decency to send me a half-assed apologetic expression. “But we are sorry you saw that, cara mia.”
“Apologize to your grandchild too.”
Luna squared up, giving them the full force of her haughty gaze.
I tapped my foot impatiently.
Papà rolled his eyes and palmed his forehead. Mamma felt guilty enough to say, “We’re sorry you saw that, Luna. There. Happy?”
Luna hissed.
And I was far from happy. Disturbed and wholly grossed-out was more like it.
In all the years that we lived together, I’d never once caught my parents in the act. In fact, most days I pretended that I was dropped on their doorstep via pelican and that was my birth story.
I took another sip of the wine to wash down the bad taste in my mouth, watching my parents over the rim of the glass. They squirmed, embarrassed.
The tension in the kitchen was so thick, you could slice it with a knife.
“What are you doing here anyways?” Mamma huffed, patting a hand over her disheveled hair. “You weren’t supposed to arrive for another two hours.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault that I arrived early?” I threw back at her reprimanding tone. “Mamma, I texted you! But clearly y-you both were busy doing—ugh!” I narrowed my eyes and waggled a finger between them. “How long has this been going on? Explain yourselves.”
Suddenly, no one could meet my accusatory stare.
The puzzle pieces finally clicked into position and I had a light-bulb moment.
Oh my God.
“This…This never stopped, did it?” Shocked, I shook my head. “All this time, you’ve both claimed to hate each other, and yet…”
In between all of Mamma’s failed relationships, she and Papà never stopped being together.
Not in the physical sense. Despite being divorced, it was obvious they fell back into their old habits like nothing had changed.
They were still each other’s one true match, no matter how dysfunctional.
Even after twenty-plus years, their love never died.
It was obvious they were still crazy for one another.
Deciding to be the adult in this situation, I swiped Mamma’s car keys from the kitchen counter. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
They both exchanged a concerned glance.
Papà asked, “Go where?”
“To church!” I yelled, half joking, but half meaning it. “You both obviously need a trip to the confessional. I’m sure Father Domenico would be delighted to help you cleanse your sins. Afterwards, you can renew your vows!”
Bewildered, Mamma sputtered, “C-cut it out! We are not getting married just because you caught us. It was a mistake. This slip-up won’t happen again.”
Yeah, right. Now I was certain they’d had more slipups than I could count on two hands.
Papà arched a dark brow in her direction. “You don’t want to marry me?”
A slight hesitation on Mamma’s part. “No, Enzo.”
“Why not?” There was a note of unmissable yearning in his words and my previous anger softened at the edges.
I felt bad for both of them. Mamma knew exactly who Papà was when she married him.
The mob was part of his blood. Compromises and sacrifices were needed to make any relationship work.
Somewhere along the way, they both forgot that fact.
Papà should have made an effort to reduce his long working nights, and Mamma should have communicated her feelings more.
“Please.” Mamma scoffed, but there was no weight to the sound. “There are better men out there. I just need to keep dating until I find the one for me.”
Well, shit.
I exhaled a long breath.
Not only were they crazy for one another, but they were both plain crazy.
At her statement, Papà went from her besotted lover to the ex-husband who loved riling her up. His posture straightened, his chest puffed, and he wiped the lovesick expression on his face with a casual hand across his stubbled salt-and-pepper jaw, his signature scowl taking its usual place.
Forget the confessional. These two needed couples’ therapy to solve their issues.
“Hey, guys.” I tried to defuse the situation before it escalated. “How about we pretend like this never happened? Hunter will be here in less than two hours. I’ll start setting up the table and you can go get dressed. I promise, you’ll love him. He’s such a sweetheart—”
“What did you say, Lucia?” Papà drawled in a low voice. “You want to keep dating until you find the one for you?”
I rubbed my temple. There was no use pretending that a battle wasn’t about to break out in this household.
I already knew how it would go down: with kitchen utensils and a passionate screaming match.
They were doomed to be together, just like Nonna said, and I should leave them to untangle their own mess.
“Yeah.” Mamma crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s exactly what I said.”
“Even after your last boytoy ran away with his tail between his legs?”
Horror splashed over Mamma’s features. “How would you know Neal ran away with his tail between his legs?”
Papà’s silence spoke volumes.
She connected the dots, red-faced. “Are you…Are you telling me that you threatened Neal so he’d break up with me?”
Papà leaned against the kitchen doorway, entirely too relaxed for a man who was about to have his ass whooped. “I told him I’d kill him if he didn’t break up with you and he pissed his pants like a pathetic fool. Is that the kind of man you want to date?”