Northern Moonlight (32 page)

Barely cognizant of the fact that her living room windows were wide open, Sabrina cooed with impatient delight as his mouth joined with her most intimate flesh.  He looked up at her face, pleased to see there an expression of speechless desire, and then continued his tutelage between her silky thighs.  She writhed up and down on the floor until he could bear no more and suddenly stopped to rip off his clothes.  As he lowered himself onto her, there were no more barriers between them.  There was only an uncontrollable passion that quaked as Gio and Sabrina melted into glorious oneness. 

When Gio finally stopped moving, Sabrina sighed deeply, as his sweat mixed with her own and she even felt tears welling up in her eyes because of the depth and power of their lovemaking. In a hoarse, breathless voice, Gio finally spoke. “You shouldn’t lie here on the floor.  Let’s go to your bedroom.”

“Let’s stay right here.” She murmured.

“At least let me get you some pillows or a blanket.” He insisted.

“I don’t need anything.  Just cover me with yourself.”

Gio obeyed by entwining her full-length in his embrace while lovingly caressing her knotted, sweat-soaked hair.  “You can wash my hair and give me one of your famous scalp massages later.” Sabrina whispered.

“Of course.  You were right to just want to stay here.  This is perfect.  And I’m not on call…actually, I left my beeper in the truck.”

Sabrina furrowed her brow.  “Please don’t use the word ‘beeper’ again tonight.”

He grinned and gave her a peck on the shoulder.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Neither do I.” She answered as her eyes began to flutter shut.  Soon, they had both drifted off to the most restful sleep either of them had enjoyed in weeks.

In the morning, Gio awoke stretching and slightly disoriented.  He looked around and realized he had slept all night on the floor of Sabrina’s living room.  Ordinarily, a night like that would have made his muscles rebel furiously, but this morning he felt incredible. 

“Are you awake, Sabrina?”

She looked over at him with a broad, sunny smile.  “Yes, I am.  I hope you slept OK.  These weren’t exactly luxury accommodations.” She giggled.

“Oh, last night felt pretty luxurious to me.” He quipped, pulling her back into his arms and spending the rest of the morning in luxurious oneness with Sabrina. 
 

Chapter 16

Later that day, Gio was rummaging through some old shirts, making selections to donate to the firehouse’s annual clothing drive.  Since last night, he had been basking in a state of euphoria such as he had never known.   When the phone rang, he smiled, anticipating that it was Sabrina. 

“Hello?” He greeted with uncharacteristic cheerfulness. 

The line was filled with static, but the unmistakable, thin voice of his aunt Helena answered him dismally.  “Giovanni, I have some unfortunate news.”

Gio was struck by the grimness of the woman’s tone as well as the fact that she was calling him at all because they hadn’t communicated since the surprise party.  “What’s wrong, Aunt Helena?” Gio asked.

“Brace yourself.  Perhaps you should sit down.”  Helena paused, but Gio remained belligerently standing.

“I’m listening, go ahead.” He said tersely.

“Your uncle Stefano has died.  He had a massive heart attack after breakfast this morning and died before I could get him to the hospital.”

Gio placed a hand over his mouth.  “I can’t believe this.” He said in a muffled voice.

“Neither can I.  Listen, I don’t expect any sympathy from you.  I know how much bad blood there was between you and your uncle.  I just wanted to tell you that yesterday I mailed you a letter.  You should receive it with tomorrow’s mail delivery.  Please read it in its entirety and do whatever you wish with the information.  I need to hang up now.  I’m not feeling very well.” Helena’s voice faded away feebly, and he could hear her shallow breathing on the line.

Overcome with a desire to offer kindness despite everything, Gio said, “Before you hang up, please accept my condolences on the loss of your husband.  This is such a shock.”

Helena seemed not to hear him.  “I must go now.  Be sure to read my letter.”

With those directions, she hung up the line as Gio sat with his mouth agape, feeling numb.  The news of his uncle’s death was unexpected, as the man had no history of heart disease and seemed to be in reasonably good shape.  As far as the contents of the
letter, Gio couldn’t begin to guess, but he thought it strange that the letter had been sent the day before Stefano’s death.  Gio stood up and began to neatly fold the shirts he had chosen for the clothing drive, though his head was spinning from the news Helena had conveyed.

The next morning, Gio awoke early and went downstairs to check the mail, knowing that he would find an empty box, but impatient to read Helena’s letter.  Since he did not have to report to the firehouse until late that night, he threw on some exercise apparel and went for a long, vigorous jog.  By the time he returned home, after having covered about ten miles of terrain, the mail was waiting in his mailbox.  He seized the pile of parcels, located a business-size envelope with a return address of Brooklyn, and ran up the stairs, tearing it open.  Inside his apartment, Gio began to read:

June
30
, 1980

Dear Giovanni,

The truths that I will reveal to you in this letter may at once overwhelm, astonish, and appall you.  All these years, I have been
an
accomplice to a crime, and my conscience will no longer allow me to remain silent. 

The truth is always one’s best armor and, regardless of any consequences I have to face, may my honesty serve as my shield.  Your uncle Stefano is responsible for the fire that killed your parents and brother. 

In the early 1960’s, your father
confided in Stefano concerning a life insurance policy that he held.  The policy was to be left to your mother, you, and your brother in case premature tragedy befell Marcello.  However, Stefano, as his only other relative in the United States, was named as a secondary beneficiary, meaning that he would only be able to collect the funds if your entire family were
deceased
. 
Hungry for the money,
he used the spare key he had to your house and set off a timed explosive in the living room.

Before that,
Stefano
had
contracted the chief investigator of Mount Hollow as his accomplice, a man named Glen Cooper.  In exchange for covering up the nature of the fire, Stefano pro
mised Glen a sizeable share of
the life insurance
funds
.  Little did either of them know that your father had cashed in his own life insurance policy earlier that year to balance out a slow carpentry season.  Ironically, even if the life insurance policy had still existed, you would have been the beneficiary.  Stefano did not count on the possibility that you would not be home in the middle of that stormy winter’s night.

It was only afterwards that Stefano informed me of what he had done.  I chose to stand by my husband.  I had no means to support myself,
nowhere to go. 
So, I stayed
with him, and then you came to live with us, and it devastated me to be around you.  That is why I have always kept as distant as possible from you, Giovanni, not out of loathing but out of shame.  You will never know how sorry I am or how much my conscience pains me daily.

I hope that you will one day be able to forgive my silence.  I, too, have been a victim of Stefano’s evil ways.  Last week, I discovered that he has kept a mistress for the past decade.  Along with the urgency of my conscience, his infidelity was the impetus for this confessional.  I fully expect the authorities to come knocking at our door and, though I do not seek vengeance, the scorned woman in me can’t help but anticipate the look of horror on your uncle’s face when he realizes the masquerade is finally over.

With deep remorse,

Helena

Tears streamed liberally down Gio’s contorted face as he set the letter down on the table.  Wrenching sobs such as he had not known since 1966 formed in his chest, and he let them out in a torrent of release.  To his astonishment, he felt no anger after reading Helena’s letter.  The feelings that permeated him were relief, understanding, and pity.  Now that he finally had the truth in his possession, in the form of a hand-written confessional, he was no longer a powerless victim of deception.  He had it in his power to dash to the police right now with the letter in hand and start the process of indicting Cooper.  Yet, Gio was not compelled to do anything but go to Sabrina and share with her the truth that she had helped to uncover.  Roughly wiping his tears away with a paper towel, Gio darted out of his apartment to find her.

Parking crookedly in front of her house, Gio jerked himself out of the truck and rang the doorbell.  Sabrina came to the door immediately, for once not surprised to see him. “I’ve gotten used to your unannounced visits, Mr. Salvatore.” She teased.  Then, registering the redness of his face, she became concerned.  “Gio, have you been crying?” She asked incredulously.

Without answering, he pushed his way through the door and yanked the letter from his pocket.  “Read this.” Gio instructed, as she seized the letter from him and read it silently. 

When she had finished, she took him wordlessly into her arms and held onto him with as much strength as she had in her delicate body.  He eased into her embrace, feeling the warning sting of tears again on his eyelids and drawing strength from her to prevent him from dissolving in sobs. 

“I finally have the truth, Sabrina.  I finally have the truth.” He raved, grasping her even more tightly.  Then, he pulled back so he could look her in the eyes.

“I’m so happy you have the truth.” She said simply, not wanting to bombard him with questions about what he intended to do with Helena’s confession. 

“Believe it or not, I’m happy too.  I never knew how I would react to witnessing the end of this deception.  I thought that I would be angrier, but all I feel is pity.  Most of that pity is directed at my aunt, who I learned yesterday is a widow.  She called yesterday and said that Stefano had a heart attack and died before she could even call an ambulance.  I guess she told him about the letter, and it was more than his heart could handle.  I hope he felt remorse in those last moments.”