Endings & Beginnings (New Mafia Trilogy #3) (2 page)

It was almost 9:00 at night when we arrived at the
hotel. We stopped at the front desk so I could get a key card before we took
the elevator up to the sixth floor. I paused before swiping the card through
the reader; a last minute attempt to shore up courage before opening the door
and facing my mom.

Grant entered first, immediately taking my bags to
one of the two bedrooms in the suite. Our mom was curled up on a striped love
seat in the living room area reading a book. She looked up when the door closed
with a loud click. We stared at each other across the small space. My mom made
the first move. She folded over the page in her book before setting it on the
glass coffee table. Unfolding her legs she stood and hesitantly approached. I
didn’t meet her halfway.

   “Natalie, it’s so good to see you,” she said
before surprising me by wrapping her arms around me in an awkward hug. My arms
were pinned beneath hers, so it was difficult to reciprocate after the initial
shock wore off.

   “Mom, I’m sorry,” I started to say when we
separated, but she cut me off.

   “I’m the one who needs to apologize and to thank
you. You leaving the way you did prompted me to get help.”

While we had pulled apart, my mom still held my hand
and gave it a gentle squeeze. I didn’t know how to handle this new, apologetic
touchy-feely version. She even looked softer. The tightness around her mouth
was gone and the deep crease between her eyebrows wasn’t as severe. Her haircut
was more feminine and blonde highlights had replaced the gray that threaded
through her brown hair. Instead of the boyish short cut I always remembered her
having, she had grown her hair out to where it brushed her shoulders and layers
added volume.

Grant was right, she had changed, but it was going
to take more than a hug, an apology and a new haircut for me to lower my guard
around her.

   “Come, sit with me. We have a lot to talk about.”
She tugged on my hand and led me back to the love seat. Grant came out of my
room and leaned over to give our mom a kiss on her cheek.

   “I’ll see you both later.”

   “You’re leaving already?” I was hoping he would
stick around.

   “Yeah, I got some things to take care of.” He
gave me a look to let me know that he had mafia business to tend to.

Grant bent over the back of the love seat and
whispered in my ear, “Relax, she won’t hurt you.”

I resisted the urge to laugh. My mom was capable of
hurting me with just a few words, but I nodded and gave him a weak smile.

   “Oh, I almost forgot.” Grant turned around right
before he left, keeping his hand on the doorknob. “Miranda needs you at the
bridal shop tomorrow – 11:00. Mom knows where.”

He left after that, leaving me alone with my mom. We
regarded each other from opposite ends of the sofa. I tugged on the bottom of
my shirt and twisted the material as I stared down at my lap. My mom cleared
her throat, so I looked up to find her smiling at me and the smile reached her
brown eyes.

   “I’m so glad you and Grant are close. It’s like
you don’t even have to speak to communicate. I was always envious of that.”

   “What do you mean?”

   “Just now, he gave you a look and you understood
without him having to say anything out loud in front of me. You’ve always done
that. I used to hate it – always felt excluded - and paranoid that you were
silently discussing me.”

   “Well, sometimes we were,” I admitted sheepishly
and she laughed.

   “I probably deserved it. I was pretty awful and
not the best parent for you two. For that I am truly sorry.”

I released the bottom of my t-shirt and began to
relax. Unfortunately I had been conditioned to keep my guard up around my mom.
Usually she was criticizing my outfits or looks. One of the reasons behind my
love for running stemmed from the need to stay in shape to avoid such
criticism.

   “My therapist told me I need to come clean with
you and she also told me to be clear that what I’m about to say isn’t an excuse
for my behavior, just an explanation.”

   “So you really are seeing a shrink?”

   “Yes.” She reached for a bottle of water that was
on the coffee table. Seeing it reminded me how thirsty as I was, an after
effect of air travel.

   “Is there more water?” I asked.

   “Oh, there’s plenty. Hold on.” She stood and
walked over to the small kitchen. “Grant had the fridge stocked,” she said,
returning with two bottles and handed one to me before setting the other one on
the table. 

She sunk back down on the love seat, curling her
denim clad legs beneath her. I opened my bottle; the seal cracking with a loud
pop, interrupting the sudden silence that had descended upon the suite, save
for the faint scream of sirens on the city streets below.

Mom cleared her throat and I looked over at her. She
was twisting the bottom of her pale yellow cotton sweater, a nervous habit that
I never realized I’d inherited.

   “What do you need to tell me?” I asked.

She sighed, releasing the sweater, placing her hands
flat against her thighs. “I didn’t know at the time, but leading up to when
your father left, my doctor thinks I was already suffering from Dysthymic
Disorder.”

   “What’s that?”

   “It’s a form of mild depression which, if untreated,
can morph into deep depression and that’s what happened after your father left us.
The stress and emotional loss triggered it, but, like I said, I didn’t know
that at the time.” She paused and started twisting the bottom of her sweater
again.

I reached over and placed a hand on top of hers,
stilling them. “Is that why you checked out on us?”

Her eyes were watery and she looked away. “Yes,” she
said, her voice trembling and she hung her head. Tears spilled down onto her
sweater, darkening the fabric. “A part of me was aware. It was like I was
trapped inside witnessing how I was behaving, but paralyzed and muted,
helpless, unable to stop.”

She sniffed and lifted her head, wiping away the
glistening trails from her cheeks before meeting my eyes. “I know it was wrong,
but I blamed you for your father leaving us even though you’re blameless.”

I was stunned, not by her admission, but by the emotional
mess of a woman sitting next to me. The cold stoniness I had grown up with was
gone.  She didn’t stop talking and the words spilled out. I just sat there and
absorbed everything. She told me how my dad threatened to leave long before I
was even conceived. Only when my mom found out she was pregnant with me, did
things settle down. Apparently my mom struggled with severe post-partum
depression and this made my dad stay longer to take care of us.

   “My moods drove him away. I see that now, but at
the time you were supposed to be the saving grace for our marriage, his reason
to stay. So when he walked out on us…”

   “You blamed me.”

She nodded and hung her head again, too ashamed to
look at me.

   “Jesus Mom, I was five years old!” I started to
yell, all the years of resentment surging forth, but my rage dried up on my
lips when she recoiled like I slapped her and instead of satisfaction, I felt
guilty for lashing out. “Shit, mom, I’m sorry.”

   “Don’t apologize, Natalie. Your anger is valid. I
know I can’t erase what happened and I missed out on so much. Then you left me
too.”

This comment caught me off guard and I exhaled
sharply. “I’m not like him.”

   “No, you’re not. Grant isn’t either. Thank God.”
She gave me a shy smile, coaxing one from me. “Care to tell me why you ran
away? Was it Dominic?”

I shook my head and then sighed. “It wasn’t Dominic.
Things were intense and I needed a break.”

She didn’t say anything and I could feel her
weighted gaze as she watched me. “Are you going to stay in California?”

   “I don’t know.”

We went to our separate rooms in the suite soon
after. I was emotionally tapped out and ready for some solitude, especially so
I could process my mom’s confession. She was trying to make amends and that was
a start. I called Chelsea to let her know I had arrived safely and fill her in
on everything, but I got her voicemail. Remembering, as the phone was ringing,
that she was having dinner with Derek’s parents, I left her a brief message.

Then I took a quick shower, rinsing the day’s travel
from my skin, before crawling into bed only to stare at the ceiling. While it
was close to midnight, my body was on Pacific-time and nowhere ready for sleep.
My mind kept going over the conversation with my mom. I wanted to forgive her
and wanted a close relationship with her, but was afraid. Afraid of her recent
changes only being temporary and getting hurt all over again. Grant had already
seemed to have accepted her so did that mean I should too? With a sigh, I got
up and drew the vertical blinds plus the heavy drapes closed, blocking out the
city lights and shrouding my room in darkness. Using the display light from my
phone that was charging on the bedside table as a guide, I climbed back into
bed. After some meditative breathing exercises that Chelsea had taught me to
help with my panic attacks, I finally managed to fall asleep.

That night I thought for sure nightmares would
return since I was back in Philadelphia, but they didn’t. Instead I dreamt of
Dominic and the last time we made love before we were both shot. He used to
wake me up by drawing lazy circles down my bare back, applying slightly more
pressure as he moved closer to my ass. This particular morning, the sun
streamed in through the window that practically ran the entire length of our
bedroom. Grumbling, I squirmed underneath his touch and burrowed my head deeper
in the pillow to block out the sunlight. His husky chuckle rumbled in his chest
as his fingers slipped beneath the sheet, exploring lower. I parted my legs
slightly, giving him access and he took full advantage, sliding a finger
inside. I moaned and moved my hips with his rhythm, which grew steadily faster
until I was bucking against his hand. He added another finger and the increased
fullness sent me over the edge with a cry. Rolling over onto my back, fully
awake, I ran my fingers through Dom’s thick hair and pulled him towards me,
lowering his lips to mine. He came willingly and settled his hips between my thighs.
Our kiss started out soft and sweet, our tongues moving against each other in a
slow dance. Dominic ground his erection against me and I deepened the kiss,
moaning into his mouth. He nipped at my lower lip then sucked on it, hard.
Thrusting my hips up I moved against him, causing him to release my lip which
quivered and tingled as blood rushed back into place.

Dominic hovered above; caging me between his
muscular arms and I loved being surrounded by him.  I had mussed his black hair
and it hung over his forehead, framing his eyes that were now a darker green as
he stared at me. God, he was beautiful and I couldn’t believe he was mine.

   “What?” I asked.

   “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

I moved along his erection again. “Yeah, I do.” He
laughed and kissed me, tracing a trail along my jawline and down my neck to my
breasts, his stubble scratching against my skin. He latched onto a nipple with
the same intensity as my lip. The contrast between tender and rough sent a
ripple of goose bumps across my body and left me breathless. Spreading my legs
wider, I arched against him, inviting him to enter. Cupping my ass he pulled me
closer and pushed inside with one hard thrust. Dominic gave me a few seconds to
adjust before he started to move. I threw my head back and held on, savoring
the weight of his body on mine, breathing in a hint of spice from his cologne
as he began to sweat.

   “I love you,” I gasped, on the precipice of an
orgasm.

At that moment the sunlight exploded super bright,
distracting me and I woke with a jerk to a strange metallic sound.

   “Wake up, Natalie. We need to leave in an hour.”
My mom’s voice cut through the disorientation and I blinked, seeing her
silhouette over by window. That explained the sound; it was the rungs from the drapes
racing along the rod. Then I realized my hand was down my pajamas and I had
been playing with myself during the dream. Horrified, I yanked my hand free,
praying that she didn’t witness.

   “You look flushed, Natalie, are you feeling
okay?” she asked and I felt my cheeks flare even hotter.

   “I’m fine, Mom,” I said and kicked the covers
free, “Just too many blankets.”  I made a quick escape to the bathroom. The
remnants of the dream lingered, leaving me feeling unsatisfied since I was
robbed of any release. Masturbating to finish it off was out of the question
since my mom was in the next room, so I settled on a cold shower, which left me
even more out of sorts. The idea of spending the day getting fitted for a
bridesmaid dress held zero appeal. It wasn’t just being left horny that had me
on edge, but my subconscious had revealed the truth I’d tried to suppress: I
still loved Dominic.

***

While the morning may have gotten off to an awkward
start by the time I had coffee and a bagel, that my mom had waiting for me when
I came out of my room, my mood had improved. We took a cab into the heart of
South Philly to the bridal shop run by someone in the Grabano family. I was
surprised when the cab stopped in front of a cute boutique on the corner. Brown
awnings with pale blue stripes stretched out over the storefront windows where
gowns worthy of Vogue magazine were on display. Across the street was an
upscale coffee shop with bistro tables on the sidewalk. As soon as my mom and I
stepped out of the cab, the door to the bridal shop burst open and Miranda came
rushing out with her arms wide open.