Disenchanted Page 8
One of my favorite elements of Marco’s place was the number of pictures he had. There were photographs everywhere of his family and friends. On the mantle, on shelves, and tables. Unframed snapshots even hung on the fridge and a corkscrew board in the kitchen, along with several pieces of art that had obviously been drawn by children.
So, maybe Marco wasn’t the man I’d pinned him to be. I was learning more about him, seeing him more clearly with every hour that passed. Still, I didn’t completely relinquish my hard feelings. I still felt like punching him, especially when he got too close to me or winked at me or looked at me.
If I had to be honest, I did feel the love Marco claimed was in the very foundation of the house. This had been a happy home for Micah and Dara, and even though Marco didn’t have a family of his own, it was a happy home for him as well. The proof was everywhere, from the photos and child art, down to the handmade afghans on the couches and the random toys left behind by his nieces and nephews. My house back in Ohio had many of the same elements, photos of the kids and drawings and toys, but Gavin left behind a big hole we’ve been unable to fill. If I had to be honest, I would also have to admit that even when he was alive, there had been something lacking in our home.
Movement from the left caught my eye. Dara was headed toward the house, probably from her apartment. She called out to her husband, Marco, and the kids and waved before she started up the steps.
“Tag, you’re it,” she said cheerfully through the screen and then pulled the door open. She thumbed in the direction of the lake. “Go on and join the others. I’ll keep an eye on the baby.”
“No, you don’t have to—”
“Believe me. It’s my pleasure. None of my grandchildren live nearby, and the youngest is already seven. I’ve been waiting for an excuse to come back.” She chuckled good naturedly.
“This place is beautiful. I don’t understand why anyone would want to move away from it. Obviously, you and Micah didn’t want to, either.”
She nodded and shrugged. “Well, when our daughter was in college, she met a man originally from Alaska. After they were married, they moved there and have been there ever since. Can you believe it? It’s a little bizarre to me. Just like on TV, moose wander through town like they’re people. At night you hear wolves howling. We have some bears that wander through here sometimes, but up there…” She shook her head. “It was a little too much wilderness for me. Our son had a couple of kids, too.”
Her face seemed to sag a little, as if a great weight had just been thrown on her. She stared out the door, but I wasn’t so sure she actually saw anything.
“He died, my son. His wife tried to stay in their home, tried to be here with us, but it was too much for her. She took the kids and moved back to Massachusetts with her parents. We still got to see the kids, but not as much. Now that she’s remarried, it’s even less. It was a very difficult decision for us to sell this place, but it was just the two of us. It no longer made any kind of economic sense to stay, and we were lonely. When Marco came along, he must’ve sensed how hard it was for us, because he made us an offer we couldn’t refuse. Not only do we get to stay in this wonderful place where we’ve made so many memories, but Marco has become like a son to us, and when his family comes to visit, they stay for weeks. It warms our hearts to see it and be a part of it.”
So, Marco was loved by children and old people. Well, shit, they were really making it hard for me to remain a bitch.
“Well, I’ll go outside and leave you to it. Thank you, Dara.”
“You’re welcome, honey. Go and enjoy the day.”
I made my way down the steps, thankful there weren’t too many. As I neared, Marco turned and grinned. “Ciao, mia signora!”
“Ciao, mamma!” Gavi called out, sounding very Italian.
“Mommy, I’m going to catch a fishy and then I’m going to eat it,” Cora said seriously, brushing her red curls from her forehead.
“Only if it is big enough, remember?” Marco reminded her.
“Then I will catch a big, big fishy and then eat it.”
He laughed at her silliness before turning back to me and offering me a pole.
“Oh, I don’t know how. I mean I’ve gone fishing a couple times, but I was more of a spectator than an active participant.”
“I will teach you. If your children can learn, you can learn.”
Reluctantly, I took the fishing rod and held it awkwardly. Marco laughed softly as he came to stand behind me.
“Hold it like this.”
I lost several breaths as his body seemed to surround me. When his fingers repositioned mine on the rod, each touch felt like a sensual stroke. His voice was low and husky, his breath a caress on my cheek. As I tried hard to concentrate on his words and directions and not on his closeness, his fingers rose to my cheek. He swept my hair away, tucked it behind my ear, and stroked a light path down the side of my neck.
I was irritated that I had to hold my breath so I wouldn’t gasp. Irritated that he had probably felt my body tremble at his touch. Irritated of the thoughts and images that had flashed through my mind, and beyond irritated that I wanted him to do it again.
So, I elbowed him in the gut. Hard enough to make him grunt. Then I dropped the rod on the ground and squirmed out of his arms.
Marco’s soft laughter almost sounded evil as I sat my ass in an Adirondack chair. A little while later, as Micah and the kids moved a little further down the shoreline, he took the chair next to me. I felt like tossing him in the lake to wipe away that triumph on his face.
“Still think I’m going to…what was it you said…lock you in a cage in the woods?”
I glared at him. “You were eavesdropping?”
“Not on purpose. I was going to see if you needed help, but then I saw that you were talking to your sister. I went back to the living room after you called me an axe murderer.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I am not sure if I even own an axe. I should ask Micah if we have one. Oh, I forgot. We did, but I buried it with my last victim.”
I seared him with my eyes. “You’re an ass.”
“Be nice or I will put you in the cage early.”
He laughed as I punched him in the arm a couple times and murmured, “Ass.”
As we silently watched the kids for a moment, I thought about his phone call earlier this morning, all the pictures in his house, and the flash of sadness that had appeared on his face as Dara spoke of his family.
“What made you move so far away from your family? Or is it that you’re so bothersome that you were cast out?”
He let out a chuckle, but some of his usual mirth seeped out of his face. “I wasn’t cast out, but I did feel as if I did not have a choice.”
My mouth flattened. “Cryptic much?”
He rubbed his jaw, his eyes thoughtful and distant.
“I was engaged once. Yes, I know that is hard for you to believe,” he added when I couldn’t hide my shock. “We grew up together and were best friends. Our families always expected us to marry someday, so it seemed like a good idea at the time to propose. I suppose it seemed like a good idea to her at the time to accept.”
I leaned toward him, my eyes dramatically wide. “What happened? Did you lock her in a cage? Is she here on this property? Are you going to axe her and put me in her cage?”
Marco sucked up the distance between us, until our faces were only a couple inches apart. “If you want to be locked up so badly, I have some handcuffs in my bedroom.”
My face flooded with warmth, along with other parts of my body. “Ass,” I hissed and sat back in my chair.
He shrugged. “You started it.”
I motioned with my hand for him to continue. “Okay, go on with your story.”
He relaxed into the chair, crossing an ankle over a knee. “There isn’t much of a story to tell. We were engaged. We loved each other.”
“What was her name? What did she look like? What kind of person was she? You suck at this s
torytelling stuff.”
“I didn’t think you would want all the details.”
“Why not? We seem to have plenty of time and few distractions. Besides, you know a lot more about me than I do you. Convince me you are not an axe-wielding psycho.”
His eyes studied me for a moment, making it hard for me not to squirm under his consideration. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. I will tell you what you asked for, but I would like you to be willing to share as well. This is a two-way street.”
I swallowed hard before I pushed my hair back and turned away. “Like I said, you already know a lot about me already, things I wish you didn’t.”
“But I only know one side, don’t I? Maybe I want to hear it from your mouth.”
My gaze settled on his again, hesitantly. “So, you won’t talk to me if I don’t get all personal with you? I don’t get personal with anyone, Marco. Not even my sister and mother.”
His eyes moved over my face, pausing long at my lips before meeting my eyes again. “Yes, I want to get personal with you, Lydia.”
There was so much implication in those words—sensuality, eroticism, and sentiment. The words and the soft pitch of his voice and his closeness made my skin heat instantly. I knew my cheeks must’ve been bright pink and there was no way to hide it.
“But, I will tell you what you ask whether you share or not. Her name was—is—Celia, and she is…” He sighed. “Stunning. She is stunning. Her hair is thick and dark and falls past her waist. I don’t think she’s ever cut it. She has these enormous eyes that are dark gray and green. They remind me of how the sky is before a thunderstorm. She’s not just beautiful, but Celia is a wonderful person. Very kind, generous, and loving. And she is tough, too. I suppose she has to be to put up with my brother.”
I mentally sifted through all the pictures in the house, positive that I had seen a woman as he’d described, but I couldn’t bring her face to mind. Then again, I didn’t want to think about this “stunning” woman while I was the opposite of that. I didn’t like how I felt as he’d described her, his eyes unfocused and wistful.
“She seems perfect,” I said without any emotion in my voice. “So, what happened?”
He tried to be nonchalant with a shrug, but it didn’t quite work. “She fell in love with someone else, and maybe she had never truly been in love with me to start with. I do not doubt she loved me, but I do not think she was in love with me.”
I internally cringed and an uncomfortable shudder ran down my spine. I knew all about that kind of love.
“Were you in love with her?”
He paused and stared out at the water as he seemed to think about it. “Yes. I was.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I felt guilty, although that was unreasonable. I wasn’t the one who had broken his heart, but the situation felt too close to my own.
“She was honest with me. She did not cheat on me, at least not physically, but she was honest and told me she was in love with him. I asked her if he was aware of it. By her silence, I figured out he not only knew it but felt the same way. I was right. When I confronted him, he admitted that he had been in love with her for a long time, that their friendship had always been something a little more. So, I let her go.”
I stared at him threw narrowed eyes. “Just like that? You let her go just like that?”
He was the one to look guilty now, smiling shamefully. “Not exactly. I behaved like a crazy man at first. I punched him so hard I knocked him out, and I said horrible things to both of them. It took me a couple weeks to calm down and think straight. I realized that I loved her enough to let her go and be happy with someone that wasn’t me, and my blood demanded that I forgive my brother.”
I jerked suddenly in my chair, leaning forward so fast I almost fell out of it. “Your brother?” I gasped. “It was your brother?”
Somberly, Marco nodded.
I fell back in my chair, still startled and confused.
He took that opportunity to finish the story. “I could not stand to watch them together, to watch them be happy together and start a new life. My father’s cousin had moved to Philadelphia many years before I was born. I barely knew the man, but I needed to get away. So, I came to stay with him for a couple months. That was twenty years ago. I tried to go back to Italy to stay once, a few years after I’d left. I thought I was over it, but I wasn’t. I came back after only two weeks. I wished them well, and I had no hard feelings, but I still could not see them together.”
I swallowed hard but managed to get my question out around the lump in my throat. “And now? Can you see them now?”
His mouth drooped a little at the edges was sad. “I have not been in love with Celia for a very long time, but sometimes it is still hard to see.”
It was an honest answer, and it made me understand Lily’s perspective even more. You can forgive and love again, but sometimes the past is like a scar, always there as a brand, as a reminder of a painful event.
“Do you think you’ll ever be able to look at them and not remember what they did to you?” I couldn’t look directly at him, and kept my eyes on my kids, but I could still see him staring at me. Could feel it.
“I hope so.”
Cora’s excited shouts effectively ended the conversation. “Mommy! Marco! I’m catching a fish!” She and Micah were trying to reel in something big splashing out in the water.
Marco got up and offered both of his hands to help me out of my seat. I hesitated for only a fraction of a second before I accepted his hands and allowed him to help me to my feet.
This time, when he reached for my hair and pushed it away, I didn’t him. I didn’t even punch him or attempt to toss him in the lake. I just smiled back at him.
Chapter Ten
Cora’s prediction of catching a big fish had come true. The bass she and Micah reeled in was a five-pounder. I only knew that it was impressive because Marco said so. Cora even helped him gut and clean the thing, with much more enthusiasm than I’d expect from a princess-fairy-lovin’, everything-pink-and-frilly kinda girl.
Marco was so proud of her, as if she were his own kid. It made her grin and preen, and I could practically see the confidence growing in her. Everyone else, including her brother, gave her just as much attention for her feat, but it was Marco’s attention she drank in the most. Maybe that should’ve made me feel good, to know how much he truly cared about my kids after such a short time, but it made me uneasy. We would be leaving in a matter of days, and he would be one more person my kids lost—though by distance and circumstance this time, not in death.
Also, not going to lie, but his interaction with my kids made some other emotions stir inside me, emotions that I had never planned on having again in my life, let alone for a guy who had invoked some of my more aggressive feelings. I fought to push the disquieting thoughts from my head. It was a nice night, and despite my doubts and concerns, I was enjoying myself.
Not only could Marco gut a fish, but he could cook it, too. For dinner, he grilled burgers, steaks, Cora’s fish, and corn on the cob. He also baked potatoes in an outdoor wood-burning oven. The meal was served at a large stone-topped table surrounded by torches for light and to keep the bugs at bay. Afterward, we relaxed in comfortable chairs and couches around a wide fire pit built deep into the ground and made s’mores. The kids’ faces were still sticky with chocolate and gooey marshmallow an hour or so later, and they were flagging. Little hands rubbed at eyes, mouths opened in yawns, and Mandy was cuddled up in my lap, head on my shoulder and thumb in her mouth.
Marco yawned, though he tried to stifle it. He sat across from me, with Cora curled up next to him, staring sleepily at the flames from the pit. Gavi and Micah sat at a table, quietly playing a card game.
After glancing around at all the sleepy and content faces, Dara made a suggestion that was more like a grandmotherly demand as she collected dishes. “I think you should all stay and leave in the morning. It’s safer that way.”
Marco and I l
ooked at each other.
“I do have enough space. We can leave first thing in the morning.”
“Is this how you do it? Get your victims sleepy, offer them a place to stay, and then they’re never heard from again?”
His lazy grin made my heart pump a few extra beats. “You have me all figured out, Tesoro.”
He yawned again before I could come up with another smartass remark, and that answered the question of staying. It made me nervous to stay out here in the woods with people I didn’t know well, far away from home, and far enough from my sister, but…I did trust Marco, mostly. There would always be a level of distrust, not just for him, but for anyone. I didn’t really believe he was going to kidnap us or murder us with an axe he may or may not have owned.
Fortunately, I was one of those moms who packed everything but the kitchen sink. I had plenty of training underwear for Mandy and a change of clothes for each of the other kids.
I nodded my acquiescence and ignored the surprised widening of Marco’s eyes.
Like at Lily and Kyle’s, Gavi and Cora would share a room, and Mandy would be with me. They were excited about staying in the cabin, and it took a little while for them to calm down again, but once they did, it was only a matter of minutes before they were all knocked out.
I lay in bed next to a lightly snoring Mandy, staring up at the dark ceiling. I was tired, but not sleepy. Unlike the kids, it was hard for me to fall asleep in an unfamiliar place. I hadn’t always been that way. In fact, I hadn’t been that way at all before the accident. It was just another part of me that had changed.
It also didn’t help that my thigh ached and my knee throbbed. The terrain surrounding the cabin was beautiful, but uneven as it tends to be in the great outdoors. While I appreciated the workout from our walks today, I didn’t appreciate the aftereffects.
A light noise from outside drew my attention to the sliding glass doors that led out to the balcony. Someone cleared their throat, trying to do so quietly, but I could still hear it, as faint as it was. I got up and shuffled over to the doors, thankful there hadn’t been any obstacles, and carefully pushed the curtain aside enough for me to take a peek. I didn’t see anything, but I knew someone was out there. I could’ve just gone back to bed, but I couldn’t sleep anyway. So, I pulled the curtain back, fumbled with the door for a moment before I got it right, and stepped outside into the cool night air.