5. Mae

5

MAE

" M om!" I called up the stairs as loudly as I dared, leaning onto the edge of the banister. "I'm going to start dinner!"

Mom's voice carried down the stairs from somewhere deep up there, but I couldn't hear the words. Assuming it was simply a noise of agreement, I headed back into the kitchen, where Dozer was curled up near the oven, soaking up the warmth.

Zack had been put to bed an hour ago, and after cleaning the house, I was starving. All this travel had really thrown my routine out of whack, but at least here, I had the time to cook and enjoy it. There were no alarms to wake up to in the morning and no emails from my boss. I did send a quick text to my best friend, Denise, letting her know I was still alive and this town was much the same as it had always been.

Rummaging through the cupboard, I found some spinach and ricotta tortellini and soup for Mom. I set to work boiling the water, opening the soup can, and searching for some decent bread. Mom appeared in the kitchen a few moments later, and while the air was slightly tense, I was far too tired for another argument.

"How is Zack?" I asked, sprinkling some extra seasoning into the soup.

"Fast asleep. That walk really tired him out."

"It must be the air. We don't get this kind of freedom in the city." I chuckled. "He had a good time."

Thanks to the mysterious Jian, so did I. I should have gotten his number. Was that too bold? I'm not sure. Then again, he was new in town and only here for a short while, so maybe he would have been perfect to scratch an itch I hadn't scratched in years.

"Is everything as you remember it?" Mom took over the bread board and began slicing up the loaf.

"Mostly." I nodded while stirring the soup. "Sad to see the shop on the corner gone, though. That new place looks like a poster for corporate hell."

"Mmm. There were a lot of sad folks when it got bought over."

"Oh! You never told me that the McCarth place closed down. What happened?" I split my attention between her and the food.

"Well, Mr. McCarth drank away all the profits of the farm and whatever was left, his wife took in the divorce," Mom replied. "Place has been closed for a few years now."

"Shame," I murmured. "As nice as everything is, there did seem to be a sad air about the place. Makes sense, I guess, with some of the small town charm fading to drink and corporations."

"Oh, darling, it's not that." Mom paused her buttering of the bread. "It's…"

I glanced over at her, stirring the soup slowly. "It's what? "

"I didn't want to say anything because…"

"Because what?" I asked again, frustration rising at her inability to just tell me what she was trying to say. I tossed the tortellini into the pan and focused on that instead.

"Aldo Adami died."

My heart stopped in my chest.

Adami. Rocco's father?

"What?"

"Yeah, he died. You know how much he cared about this town and how much work he put into making it great. We wouldn't have the community center or Planned Parenthood or any of the other charities here without him. So his passing has affected a lot of people. He was beloved."

"What… what happened?" The last name I expected to hear from my mother was Adami. When I revealed to her and my father that I was pregnant, they both wanted to kill Rocco, but he was a ghost. It had taken a long time for them to respect my choice to stop looking for him, and I'd assumed his father had vanished the same night. Yet here Mom was, talking about him like she missed him on a personal level.

"Heart attack, I think," Mom said. "No one had seen him in years, but that kind of news travels fast. He was such a highly respected man. It feels like one of the greats has gone, y'know?"

I stared at her, trying to process her words, and then I turned back to the food.

Aldo had died. I only met him once or twice back when I was in college. He picked me up from the side of the road after my car broke down and had driven me to get me food before bringing me home. Given how much power he seemed to exude just from breathing, it was a brief and somewhat scary encounter. Hearing he'd died brought up some unresolved pain with my father's passing, and I stirred the soup more vigorously.

How was Rocco doing? Did it matter? Did he care? If he was even alive, would he be feeling the same agonizing, heart wrenching pain I felt when they told me Dad had died? Would he be feeling sick and numb, too hot and too cold? Would he try to rip his skin off and spend a day crying in the bathtub, or was that just me?

I shouldn't care. It was my business. I didn't care about Rocco at all.

"They're holding the funeral in town, I heard," Mom continued. I could see her looking at me from the corner of my eye.

"Good for them," I replied tightly.

"The whole family is supposed to be there."

My stirring paused. I knew what she was getting at it. The whole family meant Rocco.

Zack's father.

"What's your point?" I sighed deeply, acting like I had no idea where she was going with this.

"Rocco will be there," Mom said. "Don't you think you could?—"

"What, Mom?" I snapped. "What could I do?"

"You looked for him for so long," she replied. "I'm just saying, you couldn't find him, and now he'll be in town."

"What the hell would that even matter? Oh, sorry your dad died, but here's the son you abandoned when you fucked off and left me after one night?" The wooden spoon clattered loudly as I threw it into the sink and grabbed two bowls. "No, I'm not doing that."

"Why not?" Mom followed me around the kitchen. "You couldn't find him, and I'm sure he had a good reason. Now you know he'll be here, and you can tell him. Zack deserves his father, don't you think? "

"No," I snapped, aggressively pouring the soup into the bowls. My heart was racing and a strange roaring was building in my ears. "Zack doesn't need to know anything, and neither does Rocco. You don't even know if he will turn up. You don't even know if he's alive because he just vanished. I'm all the parent Zack needs, and…"

Tossing the pot in the sink, I faced her. "I told you I wanted nothing more to do with Rocco and that he made his choice when he left. Zack is mine and no one else's. Rocco deserves nothing." Even as I snapped out those words, in the back of my mind, I knew that wasn't true. I had so many questions, so many painful questions that crept up in the darkest nights.

Why did he leave me? What did I do wrong? Was I just a quick fuck to celebrate graduation? Why didn't I matter?

"It's just…" She was losing the argument, so my mother reverted to her usual tricks, and tears sprang into her eyes. "I miss your father, you know. And thinking of how important family is, I just think of how Zack could be missing out on such a wonderful bond with his father."

"There is no bond because he isn't wonderful," I replied, softer this time. Then I pulled my Mom into a hug. "I know you miss Dad. I do too. But our family is perfect and complete the way it is, and I need you to respect my decision on that."

"Alright." Mom sniffled. "There's no need to snap at me."

I bit down hard on my tongue. "Sorry I snapped," I ground out, forcing myself to keep the peace rather than start an even worse argument. "Now sit down. Dinner's almost ready."

I returned to the stove while my mother gathered the bread and butter and took a seat. I had spent the past seven years suppressing my hurt at being abandoned by Rocco and ignored in all my attempts to contact him .

Now, by some horrible stroke of luck, I was back in town the same week his father's funeral was to be held. What were the fucking chances of that?

Would I run into him?

Would he even recognize me?

While serving dinner, my mind stumbled down a familiar route of what-ifs . What if he hadn't left? How different would my life be? Would we have raised Zack here together? Would I have a different job, or would we still move to the city and raise Zack together there? That would be amazing because in that dream, the job my father secured for me wouldn't have fallen through either, and…

No , I scolded myself. This was a dangerous path. Rocco didn't matter, and for Zack's sake, I had to keep that wall up. I was ditched by him, and that was painful enough. I wasn't going to let him do the same to Zack.

Whatever. I didn't need Rocco.

And I certainly didn't want him.