Page 65 of Whatever You Need

I rummagedthrough my dad’s old workshop, looking for nothing in particular. I used to love this place when I was a kid. I’d spent almost every Saturday morning of my young life helping my dad fix something for Mom or working on some project he had going on. There wasn’t a tool in the shop that didn’t get used, or a part he needed that he didn’t have. He shared a lot of wisdom with me in the hours we spent together. It was times like this where I missed him the most.

I slumped down and leaned back in my dad’s old recliner, wishing he were here to give me advice. I haven’t seen or spoken to Amelia since I kicked her out of my house. I was so angry at her for keeping something so important from me and for violating my trust. But mostly, I was pissed at myself for being so blind. My stomach knotted at the thought of never being able to kiss her, hold her, or touch her again. She would be giving those things to someone else. And I’d never forgive her for it.

“Hey, Marco,” my mom called from the spot where she had been watching me from the doorway. “Want to help me put these groceries away?”

I rubbed a hand over my scruffy jaw. “Sure.”

I followed her into the kitchen and put the canned goods in the cupboard while she filled the fridge with fresh produce. She set a few leftover containers on the counter for me to take home so she could make room on her shelves for her fresh fruits and vegetables.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” she asked as she shoved a head of lettuce into the bottom drawer. She had been asking me about Amelia since I got here, insisting that she would get it out of me one way or another.

I sighed. “Mamma, I’m not ready to get into it.”

As much as I loved my mother, her concern could be suffocating. No matter how old I was, she would always see me as her little boy. Sure, she would listen to me, but she would also want to fix things, and this was something she couldn’t fix. She couldn’t just put a Band-Aid on my broken heart.

“Okay. Why don’t you tell me why you’re hiding out here?” I went to open my mouth, but clamped it shut. “You don’t think I can tell that you’ve avoiding going home?”

“Are you seriously complaining about me spending more time with you?” I joked, even though we both knew her words were true. She could always read me like a book, which made dodging her questions pointless, because I knew she wouldn’t let up until she got to the bottom of things. “Or are you just worried that I’m here for the food and dry-cleaning services?” I grinned, giving her that dimple that used to get me out of trouble when I was younger.

She closed the fridge door and crossed her arms. “I don’t mind the company, but you’re not really here with me, your mind is somewhere else.” I frowned at her. “I raised you better than this, Marco. You don’t ever run from your problems. Whatever you did, you fix it.”

“What makes you think I’m the one who did something wrong?” I challenged her, feeling super sensitive on this topic.

“I may be old, but I’m not stupid. I’m Italian and I can tell when two lovers are in a fight.”

We both turned our heads at the sound of the front door slamming shut.

“She finally told you about that stupid arrangement, didn’t she?” my grandmother said as she walked into the kitchen with Matteo following right behind her.

I stared at her in shock, momentarily speechless. My brain must have short-circuited because there is no way my nonna was talking about what I thought she was.

“She told you, and you didn’t tell me?”

She casually unfolded her scarf and unbuttoned her coat. “Amelia trusted me with that information before she even met you. It wasn’t my place to say anything.”

My grandmother was actually taking the side of the woman who betrayed me. Does it get any more ridiculous than that? How the hell could this even happen?

My mother placed her hands on her hips and looked between us. “What is she talking about?”

I braced my body against the counter, needing something to steady my growing anger. “I can’t believe you knew all this time and didn’t say anything. Where is your loyalty?”

Her lack of consideration to my feelings really ticked me off.

She handed her coat to Matteo so he could hang it up for her. “Tell me,nipote, when is the last time you came to visit me and talk?”

I raked a frustrated hand through my hair, knowing how fond she was of her young friend. This entire exchange had me on edge, and the last thing I needed was her meddling in my business.

“Nonna, I’ve been busy.”

She dragged her glasses down the bridge of her nose so she could narrow her eyes; her wrinkles deepened at the corners. “So you say, but so is Amelia and she still makes time for me.”

I looked up at the ceiling and swore under my breath, and then my entire body went still. “Wait. Have you seen her?”

She dragged the chair out and put her purse on the kitchen table. “Yes, I’ve seen her. She won’t tell me what happened because she said she doesn’t want to put me in the middle, but I can tell she is miserable.”

“You know it hasn’t been a walk in the park for me these past few days either, but it’s nice to see that you’re so concerned about me.”

She pushed away from her chair and charged toward me. Well, as fast as an eighty-year-old woman could move. She waved her bony little finger in my face. “Marco Anthony Rubintino. You may be a foot taller than me, but you are not too old to have a wooden spoon smacked across your backside.”

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