Page 32 of Pretty Little Disaster

“Yeah, Mom, this is what I want.” Lorna’s eyes look down at our hands and she smiles.

“Well, then I guess I should be saying congratulations.” The woman shocks me when she throws her arms up in the air, then hugs her daughter so tight that I start to consider telling her to ease off. “And you….” My eyes stretch open when she twists and points her finger at me at the same time. “Welcome to the family, you…You big stud.”

“Mom!” Lorna’s cheeks flush pink as I smile, and endure one of her mom’s bone-shattering hugs.

“Come on, let's go to your old room and dig out some photos of you when you were a baby, I’m sure Nic would love to see them. She was so cute and chubby.”

“I don't think he would.” Lorna shakes her head.

“I’d love to see them, Mrs James,” I tell her.

“Mrs James?” She laughs at me. “Nic, we're family now, you're to call me Mom, or NeNe.” She opens her mouth so wide I see her tonsils.

“NeNe?” Lorna looks as confused as I am. “I’m far too young to be called Grandma, sweetheart.” She stares back at her daughter in outrage, before taking her hand and dragging her away to go in search of those photos.

I take them leaving me in the living room as an opportunity to do some digging. Neither Dario nor myself are any wiser into who Doyle is connected with, and as I scan the photo wall on the other side of the room I wonder if I might find some kind of clue from them.

“I hate it when Patsy does that.” I spin around and see Kevin in the kitchen door frame, gripping hold of a beer.

“Sorry, sir?” I frown and wonder what he’s talking about.

“I hate it when she tells people that I’m not that girl's real daddy.” He takes a long swig and wipes his mouth with the back of his greasy hand. “I’ve known Lorna since she was five years old. Stepped up for everything her coward cunt of a real father never bothered to,” he explains as he moves closer andstarts looking over the photos with me. “That, there, is me and her winning the father-daughter sack race when she was in 6th grade.” His finger leaves an oily fingerprint on the glass when he touches it.

“This was the day she had her braces taken off.” He smiles fondly at the photo of him and her together, pulling wide, over-the-top smiles. “And this was the day of her high school graduation when that son of a bitch showed up like some kind of hero and put that sparkle, that I never can, in her eyes.” He takes a long frustrated breath.

“Does she see him often?” I check if what she’s telling me is true. I’m certain that she’s keeping something about him from me.

“Nah, he’s a deadbeat. Shows up whenever he wants to and makes her feel grateful for it. He’s always been able to tell a good story. Got away with it with Patsy for years. That man may have a way of making fuckers believe all the shit that comes out of his mouth, but he doesn’t care about her like I do.” Kevin takes another drink, then slams his bottle on the side unit. “Son, I have something to say to you.” He looks me dead in the eye. “I’m not a fool, that watch you're wearing is worth more than any house on this block. If Madalina is your sister, then I’m assuming Alfeo Conte was your father, and I know what that means. I’m sure you could put a bullet in the back of my skull before my sorry ass squats to dump my next crap, but I’ll tell you this first. If you hurt my girl. If you break her heart, or if you become another person in her life who lets her down. Just know that I’ll crawl my ass back from Hell to ensure you live to regret it. Do you understand me?” The creases in his forehead deepen.

“I hear you, sir.” I look at the photo on the wall of him and her in her high school graduation cap, it’s almost the same as the one I found in Jeremey Doyle’s top drawer.

I remember seeing Lorna that day. Madalina wasn’t allowed to go to the same public high school she did, but she still snuck out of the house to go to one of the post-graduation parties with her. I, of course, showed up and ruined all the fun by dragging my sister out and forcing her to come home. Lorna had been drinking, and she yelled at me. I remember her looking at me with those piercing eyes like she wanted me dead. I felt the true force of her hatred that night, and I liked it. To hate something makes it relevant. It was the first time I realized that I needed that.

I needed to be relevant to her.

“Sir, I have no intention of hurting Lorna. You seem to know enough about my family to know that we’re good on our word. You have mine.” I hold out my hand to seal that word.

“And do you love her?” he asks, right at the same time that she steps into the room carrying a box of photographs with her mom.

“Yes, sir. I do.” It’s her eyes I look into as I say the words, and what scares me most of all, is that I think I might mean them.

“Sorry about Kevin, Mom’s right, he can be very protective.” Lorna cringes as she looks out the car window and waves to them both, one final time.

“Can’t blame him, I was exactly the same with Madalina,” I admit, resting my hand on her thigh.

Why the fuck do I feel the constant need to have physical contact with her?

“He seems to really hate your dad,” I mention, hoping it might open up a conversation.

“Everyone hates my dad,” she sighs, and seeing how sad it makes her, makes me wish I’d said nothing at all.

“What’s got you looking so sad? I thought you’d be happy, we totally pulled that off. Your mom was actually excited about becoming aNeNeby the time we left.” I squeeze that thigh in the arch of my hand as I tease her.

“Only because she thinks I’m in a normal relationship with a realtor. I don’t think she’d have the same enthusiasm if she knew the truth.” She looks guilty, and I don’t know if it’s because she’s ashamed about lying to her folks or ashamed of who I really am. “But…” Her voice quickly picks up. “...whatever you said to my stepfather back there really sold the story, you did good.” She looks back up at me with a smile that doesn’t quite make it to her eyes. I should tell her that Kevin’s not a fool and knows who I am. I should probably also tell her that, as crazy as it sounds, I wasn’t selling anything but I’m not ready to admit that yet, not even to myself. If I did that, it would prove that I’m becoming weak.

Madalina was too young to remember our mom dying. But I remember seeing what it did to our father. It destroyed him. It’s why, from a very young age, I decided that I would never become a victim of love. Of course, I always knew it would become my duty to marry and have children someday, but in this world that doesn’t mean you have to love. Marriages are created from opportunity, they are built by power, not love and devotion.

“How about I cheer you up and take you for gelato?” I suggest, knowing it will turn that smile into a real one.

---