Say Ye (34 page)

“Please,” she whispered. He shut the door behind him.

25

Lorenzo walked. Walked until the darkness, the night fog, hid him. Walked until the chill air dulled his body, if not the burning in his gut. He had his keys. He let himself into the back door at Nick’s and scuffed upstairs. His old apartment on the top floor, unused, dark, and empty, beckoned him. The black leather couch was barely visible in the shadowy room at the end of the hall. He sat.

“’You’ll hurt them no matter what you do,’” his father’s voice splintered the quiet.

His father may have been a cold, heartless bastard, but he’d been right. He hurt Lita, over and over, fooled himself into thinking he could escape his father’s awful legacy. He should have known better than to hope, to let faith and love creep into his life.

Because who had taught him he should believe in those things? His mother, his mother who let his father beat them. Who prayed in church every Sunday for peace, but wouldn’t give Lorenzo respite from his father’s tirades. Who watched as Lorenzo cradled the lolling head of his dog in his lap, crying his last tears…until Lita.

He thought she could fill him with her light, her hope, her love. But he was a cracked cup. It appeared to hold liquid, but slowly, each time, it drained away through an invisible break. He might still have his father’s old gun…no, he didn’t want to die. But he’d rather kill himself than keep hurting Lita. He was a coward, not man enough to either be the man Lita needed, the man he should be, or leave her once and for all. He put his head in his hands. The door squeaked open.

“Lorenzo, son?” Nick said. Maybe there was a God. “Lita called me. She’s worried about you.”

Lorenzo gripped his hair and pressed his forehead.

“Come downstairs with me and we’ll call her. I promised her I’d let her know.”

Lorenzo glanced up. Light from the outer hall shone around Nick.

“Follow me, son,” he said, his hand outstretched.

Lorenzo did, blinking in the hundred-watt brightness of the hall.

In his equally well-lit apartment, Nick called Lita. Lorenzo didn’t hear, he’d gotten himself a glass of water as Nick spoke, the gurgling patter drowned out his voice.

“I’ll drive you home,” Nick said, slipping on his tan loafers.

Lorenzo nodded.

Nick waved from the driver’s seat when Lorenzo turned in salute after opening the front door. Distant voices from Uncle Enzo’s sitting room drifted under the closed door. Lorenzo hung up his keys and jogged upstairs.

Lita still sat in bed, as she had when he left, angelic. The pristine ivory sheet covered her and the light from the window behind the bed highlighted her hair. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sounds came out.

“Please don’t leave again,” she said.

“I won’t. Did you need to talk?”

“Not now. Maybe tomorrow?”

“We’ll try.” He might be all talked out by then after seeing that therapist tomorrow morning. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” She scooched down, her head resting on her pillow.

He undressed, all his movements reversed from when he left earlier. He wished he could rewind to when they made love. He lay down. Lita slid next to him. He folded her into his arms and didn’t let go until morning.

That wasted, uncomfortable morning. Except making love with Lita. A silent morning, as Lita didn’t seem to want to talk anymore than he did. She styled her hair twice and smudged her mascara, necessitating a makeover. He frowned. She must be nervous, though why he couldn’t guess, unless she thought he wouldn’t go to his appointment.

He almost didn’t. He walked up to the door and away several times before entering the waiting room. The doctor had agreed to meet on a Saturday, so the tiny room’s three chairs sat vacant. Lorenzo paced a few moments. His hand rested on the doorknob when the doctor came out, greeting him. Lorenzo went in.

After almost an hour, the doctor, Dr. Martin, rose and caught Lorenzo’s eyes as he too stood. “Are you certain you want to continue? You seem reluctant to speak of your past. You’ve only told me about your wife, but little about yourself. Deflecting my questions won’t be a productive use of our time.”

“Can you help me or not? I want to change…”

“If you’re willing to work with the process, you can help yourself. I see you don’t buy that, but it sounds like you’re aware your behavior needs to change. Awareness is the first step. If you’re comfortable, you could begin by telling your wife your feelings, what you hope to accomplish, or more about your past. I’ll see you next week, then?”

Lorenzo nodded and walked to his car.

He sat, the heater blasting dry and hot. Feelings, too many feelings slithered through him, scaring the shit out of him like the snake pit in “Raiders of the Lost Ark” flipped out Indiana Jones. He didn’t want to get down there with those snakes. It was easier not to feel.

Lorenzo drove around town aimlessly. His stomach growled. He happened to be near Lita’s old neighborhood. Mel’s Diner on Geary was just over a hill.

He sat on a stool and ate a burger and fries. He hadn’t had one in years. He and Lee came in sometimes when they were in high school, sinking their teeth into the juicy burgers and fries, crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, sometimes slurping shakes, vanilla for Lorenzo while Lee never had the same flavor if he could help it.

Talking about girls, usually, or their crappy math teacher, or how they’d beat the shit out of the track team from Sacred Heart Cathedral Prep. Lee was normal, or as close to normal as Lorenzo wanted to be friends with. Not that he had much choice when he started. His reputation followed him from Cathedral Prep, where he’d been expelled at the end of freshman year. Lee was the only guy bold, or stupid, enough to sit with Lorenzo at lunch his first week there. He wiped his mouth with the scratchy paper napkin and pushed a twenty under his plate. Lita would wonder where he was.

When he walked in the front door of home, quiet buzzed.

“Lita?”

“In here,” she called. Probably the living room. She sat on the sofa, the TV cabinet in the corner open. Black and white images filled the screen. Cary Grant. She usually turned to Cary Grant when she was upset. She glanced at him. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“You have lunch?”

“Yes, you?”

She nodded. He sat next to her. She took his hand. She turned her attention back to the movie. He turned his to Lita.

As the movie ended almost two hours later, the phone rang, distant on the kitchen wall. Lorenzo stood and stretched. Lita followed behind him with her empty mug.

Lorenzo answered, assailed by rapid, frantic Italian words. After a minute, he recognized the voice. “Silvo, I can’t understand you, you’re talking too fast.” Lorenzo motioned to Lita. Silvo, Nick’s sort of adopted son, hardly ever called unless there was a crisis at the restaurant.

“So sorry, it’s Nick. There’s been an accident…” The phone banged against the wall.

Lorenzo ran to the foyer and grabbed his keys. He gasped like he’d just sprinted a hundred yard dash.

“We’ll be right there,” Lita said. Her bare feet smacked over the hardwood floor. “Wait for me,” she said, slipping on a pair of flats she kept by the door.

Lorenzo made it to Nick’s in three minutes.

“Silvo! Dad! Where the hell is everyone?” Lorenzo yelled before spotting Nick and Janice by the host’s stand. A reddish lump marred Nick’s forehead.

“Lorenzo, calm down,” Nick said. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, that’s a nasty bump. Where’s the guy who did it? I’ll--”

“I fired him, he’s gone. Janice called someone she knows to take his place. What are you doing here?”

“Silvo called and told us what happened. Shouldn’t we get you to the hospital?”

Lita had filled him in on the drive over. His breathing steadied.

“No, I’m fine.”

“At least go upstairs and relax.”

“No, I have to make sure everyone is all right and things go smoothly.”

“Silvo can do that, or Rudy.”

“You should sit down,” Lita put in. “We can stay with you. I know what to look for.”

“Yes, we’ll take you upstairs,” Lorenzo declared.

“Don’t I rate a hello?” Janice said.

Lorenzo and Lita greeted her, Lita with a hug.

“I have to stay down here, at least until this new chef gets here. Ah, that must be him,” Nick said as they all turned to see Marco, Paolo’s boyfriend, who looked much more serious than he had when last they’d met. He smiled, though, as Nick and Janice greeted him and soon rattled on in Italian with Nick. The two went into the kitchen, while Janice, Lorenzo, and Lita followed to the back where they waited.

“He’s okay,” Janice said. She had a crease in her forehead which made her words seem insincere. “You look almost as bad as Nick.”

Lorenzo grimaced. “Thanks.” He rolled his eyes at her.

She laughed. “Maybe you two should go home so you can rest.”

“And leave you as nurse? I don’t think so. Lita’s more capable and caring than you.”

“Lorenzo…” Lita said with a hint of warning while she rubbed his back.

“It’s okay. Maybe you’re right. So we’ll all stay,” Janice said as Nick came out, beaming.

“Thank you, that man is a gem. I should put you in charge of all my hiring,” Nick said to Janice. She smiled and shook her head. “All right, I’m willing to be led upstairs. Silvo knows my number if they need me.”

Once they had him settled with a fresh ice pack, he insisted Lorenzo show Janice his old apartment, which she was considering renting. Lita could sit with him.

Lorenzo led Janice upstairs and waited while she looked around. He stared at the couch, where he’d sat last night. Janice came out from the second bedroom.

“Thanks for showing me the place. You’re sure you don’t mind if I take it?”

“Why would I? I know you two are friends. I think he’ll enjoy having you around. Just be a better neighbor than I was and don’t saddle him with all your problems.”

“I know he didn’t mind. He, well, we all…oh hell. You take care of yourself and that wife of yours. I’m actually starting to like her, so don’t screw up.”

“I love you too, Janice,” Lorenzo said, laughing. “Lita’s starting to like you, too, so I guess we’re stuck with you.”

“That’s family,” she replied as they went out the door to go back to Nick’s.

The four decided to have dinner downstairs and went into the dining room, where Silvo took care of them. Lorenzo placed his napkin on his lap, no paper here. Lita studied him. No talking time now. He blew out a breath.

When Marco came out of the kitchen to greet them, Lita jumped up, giving him a big hug. They spoke for a minute, Lita in halting Italian, before Marco rushed back to the kitchen, busy with preparation for the filling-up restaurant. Janice shifted in her seat.

“You know Marco?” Janice asked as they continued their meal, obviously trying to keep the bitterness out of her tone, but Lorenzo heard it.

“Yes, isn’t he great? We get together sometimes and he’s made some fabulous lunches for Paolo and me after we’ve gone shopping. Paolo knows all the best shops.”

“He mentioned you have a keen sense of style.” Janice smiled and clenched her teeth. She had a jealous streak three lanes wide, even for her friend’s affection. Must run in the family.

“He’s a smart man.” Lorenzo smiled. “We had them over for dinner a couple weeks ago. We all had a good time.”

Maybe he could change. He actually liked Paolo and Marco. He never would have considered being friends with a gay man before, but they were just like everyone else, he saw now.

“That’s great,” Janice said. Maybe she even meant it. That would be a miracle. Lorenzo smiled.

The four eventually went back upstairs after Nick was satisfied all ran smoothly. He said he felt much better, though Lita insisted he shouldn’t be alone. She and Lorenzo urged him to come home with them, but he declined, saying they should get home and enjoy the rest of their evening. Janice surprised everyone by offering to stay with Nick.