Stella Mia (32 page)

Kyle returns with two shot glasses of whiskey. “Figured I should make it a double.”

“For once, Kyle, you figured right.” Daddy takes the shot glasses and downs them one right after the other.

My blood is absolutely boiling. Part of me is stunned and refuses to believe what I just heard. My father was actually having regular communication with the woman who left me—and as recently as my wedding, which was just five years ago! And all this stuff he never told me about.

“Julia, you look like you could use one of these. Just say the word, and I'll go get you a shot,” Kyle says.

“How could you?” I ignore Kyle and turn my attention on Daddy, who looks at me with wide-open, innocent eyes.

“I know this all must be very upsetting, Julia.”

“ ‘Upsetting' is a huge understatement. You failed to ever tell me why my mother left, even when I asked you as a child. You never told me she left because her mother was ill and her family was struggling to survive!” My voice rises sharply.

“Does it matter, Julia? In the end, she chose not to return. It's as bad as if she left without a valid reason.”

“Yes, you have a point. She never returned, but I always thought she just up and left because she didn't want me.”

“Julia, like I said before, I was dealing with this situation the best I knew how. I was so afraid about how you would turn out without a mother. I know it's hard for you to understand now, but please try to put yourself in my shoes.”

“Put myself in your shoes? Why don't you put yourself in
my
shoes? I used to cry in bed at night, wondering why my mother left. I used to pray to God to send her back someday. You're right. After those few times I asked you why she left, I never did again because I sensed it was too hard for you. Somehow, I began telling myself it didn't matter that she wasn't around, and I've been letting myself believe that lie, up until when I found her diary. I've always ached for her deep down, but I pushed the feeling away. How could you have thought that keeping all these secrets from me was beneficial to me? You
are
the Mayor of the Block!”

“Huh? The Mayor of the Block?” Daddy turns to Kyle, all baffled. Kyle gives me a pleading look.

“You have to know everyone's business in this neighborhood, but then you keep your own daughter in the dark about her mother all these years. And the kicker? To find out you were still in touch with her, and as recently as my wedding. Don't you think I feel betrayed?”

“Julia, I wasn't trying to betray you or deceive you. Your mother and I both decided it would be better for you to go on as you were with your life.”

“But you said she wanted me to visit her for the summers, and you decided against it! You actually thought it was better that I have no mother than one for the summers? What is the matter with you?” I'm absolutely screaming at the top of my lungs now.

Kyle walks over to me and whispers, “Let's get out of here. You need to take a break from all of this.”

But I remain standing where I am, shooting Daddy my most evil stare. Daddy just bows his head, shaking it, but doesn't dare say anything more.

“For crying out loud! What is going on here? I could hear shouting halfway down the block.” Aunt Donna comes running up the stairs and into the office.

“When are you going to stop letting yourself into the house? You no longer live here!” I lash out at Aunt Donna, whose eyes quickly fill with pain, but she doesn't say anything.

“You knew, didn't you?”

“Knew what, Julia?”

“You knew that Daddy was keeping in touch with my mother all those years.”

Aunt Donna glances at Daddy, surprise in her eyes.

“She found her mother's diary. I decided it was time to tell her everything.”

“It was time! I'm forty-two years old! When were you going to tell me? At sixty? Why don't you just say the truth, Daddy? You were never going to tell me.”

“Julia, we did what we thought was best. Paulie felt horrible not giving Sarina updates on you. That's why he still wrote to her and sent her your photographs.”

“He felt horrible witholding updates from her, but he didn't feel horrible keeping me from visiting her in the summers? I love how you both can justify your bad behavior.”

“Julia, baby! I just brought your father a case of Frangelico. Let me fix you a drink, and we can all relax a bit and talk about all of this calmly. What do you say?”

I hadn't even noticed Uncle Dom was standing in the corridor outside Daddy's office. No doubt he heard me chewing his wife out. Uncle Dom owns Russo's Liquors and has three stores in Astoria. Daddy hasn't had to pay for a bottle of sambuca since Aunt Donna met Uncle Dom.

“Thanks, Uncle Dom, but I'll pass. Not everything can be solved with alcohol.”

Uncle Dom looks like he wants to say something, but he must notice from the look in my eyes that it's wise he just back off.

“How about you, Kyle? Scotch?”

“Just because I'm half Scottish, Dom, doesn't mean I drink Scotch.” Kyle sounds extremely annoyed—no doubt from seeing me so upset. I wouldn't be surprised if he soon explodes.

“Boy, you guys are wound tight! Didn't I tell you, Donna, that Julia and Kyle's moving in with Paulie was a bad idea? Three is
always
a crowd.” Uncle Dom makes his way downstairs, probably to fix himself a drink.

“Julia, I'm so sorry. All I can ask is that you forgive me. I'm human. I made a mistake. Your mother, too. I know her leaving you was deplorable, and I'm not trying to excuse that, but she was young and in so much pain. If only you could have seen how depressed she was.” Daddy is wringing his hands and pacing back and forth.

Aunt Donna turns to me. “It's true, Julia. There were days she didn't get out of bed. I would have to stay and take care of you, especially during the day while your father was at work. Sarina wasn't an evil woman, but she wasn't equipped to be a mother—at least at that point in her life. When I heard about her childhood and how she ran away from that monster of a father, and then how she lived alone on the beach, making a living as a gypsy, I was amazed that poor girl had survived it all. It's no wonder she almost had a nervous breakdown.”

“She wasn't a gypsy,” I mutter.

“What?” Aunt Donna is looking at me as if I've lost all my marbles.

“She wasn't a gypsy—not in the true sense of the word. I read her diary. She just read tarot cards until she could get other work. Not that there is anything wrong with being a gypsy, although Grandma and Grandpa thought otherwise.”

“Oh, Julia!” Aunt Donna places her arm around my shoulders. “Grandma and Grandpa were just worried about their golden child—Paulie—as always.”

“What is that crack supposed to mean?” Daddy glares at Aunt Donna.

“We're speaking the truth here, aren't we? It's no secret you were Ma and Daddy's favorite. That's all I'm saying.”

Daddy lets it go. He's probably too spent from my yelling at him to battle it out with Aunt Donna.

“Look, Julia. You'll know how hard it is to be a parent when you have a child someday. I hope that you can not only forgive me, but your mother as well. It's not good to let this bitterness fester inside of you.”

I really wish Daddy would just keep his mouth shut. He's only making things worse.

“I can't believe you want me to forgive the woman who left me! Okay. Fine. She was severely depressed, but she stayed away all these years. You can't tell me she never got over her depression. I was three years old! Three years old! I needed my mother.”

“Yes, you did, Julia. But unfortunately, she wasn't able to be a mother. She was practically a child, seventeen years old to be exact, when we married. And she was only eighteen when she had you. Granted, it was a different time then than it is now. People got married younger, but still. And she had left her family behind in another country. She was also in a desperate situation, as your aunt pointed out. When I met her, she was barely eating, living day to day on just a few liras.”

Kyle finally chimes in. “I don't know what it is about the Italian culture that makes people think it's best to keep the truth from their loved ones, especially when it's something negative. It's like you think we're going to fall apart and can't handle it. I've seen it with my own Italian relatives. They keep the truth from someone if they're sick or even dying! How dysfunctional is that? And then you have the nerve to knock the Scottish, Paulie!”

“Stay out of family business, Kyle. I'm warning you.” Paulie narrows his gaze at Kyle.

“I am family, Paulie, remember?”

“You know, I haven't liked your attitude toward me in a while.” Daddy walks over to Kyle.

“My attitude? Look what you've done to your daughter!” Kyle is pointing at me with his index finger.

“Enough! I can't take this anymore!”

I run down the stairs and out of the house, ignoring my family's cries. Walking briskly, I don't relax until I've reached my destination—Astoria Park. When I was a teenager, I always loved to come here, especially when I wanted to be alone and think. I would either stroll along the ramp, watching the tugboats go across the East River, or sit on one of the park benches, waiting for the sun to set and the lights to come on in the skyscrapers on the Manhattan side of the river.

I walk all the way to the last bench along the ramp, letting my heart slow down, before I take a seat. Tears slowly slide down my face. I don't even bother wiping them. For a while, I just let my mind empty of all thoughts—something I've learned to do in my regular yoga practice.

Taking a deep breath, I regret exploding at everyone back home. Of course, it was to be expected under the circumstances, but I've always prided myself on my composure. I was angry. I'm still angry. I shouldn't regret letting Daddy know that. It's just I remember the pain in his eyes as he talked about Sarina and the hurt she left in her wake . . . the pain in his eyes when I lashed out at him.

I still can't believe he never told me he had been in touch with my mother for all those years. I can't deny I'm a bit disappointed in Daddy. He was never the bad guy in my eyes. After all, he's the parent who stuck around. I guess I had placed him on a pedestal, and he could do no wrong. While I realize he's human, there's still a part of me that wants him to always do the right thing by me and not make any mistakes. Of course, part of me understands that it must've been very hard for him to suddenly find himself a single parent of a little girl, and he had wanted to protect me. But I'm having a hard time getting past the fact that he never had the conversation with me even as an adult. Then again, I'm to blame also. I stopped asking about my mother a long time ago. I'm sure if I had asked once I reached adulthood, he would've told me everything. Naturally, I can't stay mad at him forever. I love him too much for that. But if I can forgive him, can I ever forgive my mother?

I'm shaken from my thoughts when a woman sits at the opposite end of my bench. We make eye contact, and I smile. She looks familiar, but I'm not sure where I've seen her before.

Returning my gaze to the East River, I once again try to let my mind empty of everything. But I'm having a harder time doing so now. My thoughts drift to my mother's diary and what my father told me earlier. I can't help but wonder what happened to Sarina once she returned to Sicily, and why the secrecy? Why didn't she tell Daddy what she'd been up to?

I sigh deeply. Well, at least now I can understand more her motives for leaving and not returning. I don't blame her for going to Sicily to help her family. And I know it wasn't her fault she had postpartum depression. But why couldn't she ever come visit me? Did her depression get the better of her? Or did she simply lose interest in a child she hadn't seen in so long? I wince, feeling the pain of that possibility.

Perhaps I wasn't so wrong all these years to focus on the family I do have and to live my life. While I was in denial about this hole I've tried to bury deeper and deeper in my heart, there's a certain comfort in not digging up ugly truths and pretending everything is fine. But the times I did let myself think about my mother, the curiosity ate away at me. And now that I've opened up Pandora's box by finding her diary and hearing my father's revelations, the curiosity is absolutely driving me insane.

“Excuse me? I'm sorry to intrude on your thoughts, but I thought I'd introduce myself. I've seen you a couple of times on my street. My name is Penelope Anastasos.”

“Oh. You're the woman who bought Signora Tesca's house? I'm Julia Parlatone.”

“I see word gets around fast in the neighborhood. Yes, I bought the late Signora Tesca's home. Parlatone. You must be Paulie's daughter.”

“You know my father?” Although I know that Daddy is aware of who Penelope is in terms of owning the Olympus Café and buying Signora Tesca's house, I didn't realize they had actually met.

“Yes. He comes into my café a lot. I own the Olympus Café on Ditmars. Your father and I have actually struck up a friendship.” Penelope smiles.

I then remember what Kyle said to Daddy earlier—that he was thinking too much about Penelope. She is an attractive woman, probably in her late fifties or maybe even early sixties. Her hair is cut in a layered, angled bob and is jet-black with a few subtle cherry-red highlights. Her eyebrows are lush and perfectly arched. She uses just enough makeup to highlight her best features. She's wearing white cropped pants with a dazzling yellow silk top. Large Jackie O–style sunglasses sit on top of her head. Amazingly, she seems to have positioned the sunglasses perfectly so that not a single strand of hair is out of place.