Bad Influence, page 19
This house was the only place where she could truly be open. Her safe place. Family was the most precious thing in her life.
To the point that you let it make your relationship with Joseph come second?
There was no escaping the truth on that matter. She had put him second. But at the time, she’d thought it was the correct order. Family should always come first…right?
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Sal’s question froze her to the spot.
She pulled away and swiped her tears with the backs of her hands. “What?”
He ushered her inside, closing the door behind her and flicking the lock. The house smelled like lemon and something buttery. Pastries.
“Joseph.” It wasn’t often that Sal’s voice had a flintlike edge.
Despite what most stereotypes had told her about Italian men and their tempers, Sal was pretty much a Labrador retriever in human form. He was sweet, funny, fiercely loyal, and he adored the heck out of her mother and all the women in the family. He loved readily, wore his heart on his sleeve, and accepted people into his circle no matter where they came from.
But the way he said Joseph’s name was like he’d discovered his capacity for hatred.
“That’s why you’re crying, isn’t it? Connie told me he was back.”
Shit. The universe seemed determined to test her.
“Yeah, he’s back.” She wrapped her arms around herself. Maybe she shouldn’t have come here…
“Give me your coat.” Sal held out his hand and waited while she complied. A neat line of hooks ran along the wall in the entryway, above a rack crowded with her mother’s collection of colorful shoes. “Come. Let’s have a coffee.”
Annie’s mother looked up as they walked into the kitchen. Her surprise morphed into a big smile, which quickly fell into a frown when she noted her daughter’s expression. Sofia was also at the table, munching on a cornetto with lemon filling. A stray dot of it clung to her cheek, and she swiped at it with her finger.
“What’s wrong?” her mother asked, her chunky gold earrings jangling as she jumped out of her seat. “What happened?”
To some people, the love of a family like Annie’s could be smothering. They all knew each other’s business, and the words I don’t want to talk about it fell eternally on deaf ears. Since Annie’s father had died when she was little, her mother had loved her hard enough for two people. Sometimes more. When Sal came along, Annie had been worried that he might steal some of that affection. That his presence would somehow diminish her relationship with her mother. How wrong she’d been.
It had been tough back in the day, with Connie’s cleaning job and Sal’s construction work only affording them the bare minimum. But they’d never been short on hugs or laughter in their house. Never short a shoulder to cry on or an ear to talk off. So Annie had gone into the world unprepared for the reality of relationships, unprepared that she might fall in love with someone whose family wouldn’t accept her. Unprepared, ultimately, that one day she might have to choose between her family and something else.
“I just…” Annie stood in the doorway, watching Sal fiddle with the Bialetti coffee maker while her mother and sister stared at her with concern seeping out of every pore. “I needed to be here.”
Sal shot Connie a look, but didn’t say anything. Then her mother’s expression developed an edge. How did they communicate like that? “What did he do? I knew he was going to be trouble the second I heard about him coming home.”
Sofia raised a brow. “Who are you talking about?”
“Joseph.” Her mother spat the name out in much the same way Sal had. Annie didn’t know what to fear more—her mother’s explosive anger or Sal’s quiet wrath. “What did he say to you, huh? Porco giuda! You tell him to come here and explain—”
“Ma, stop.” Annie shook her head.
“No, I will not stop.” Connie was in full Mama Bear mode. Her curly brown hair moved as she shook her head, the tightly coiled spirals bouncing around her face. “Che due coglioni! He thinks he can come back here and upset my daughter like that. No. I will not—”
“Ma!” Annie came forward and gripped the back of an empty chair. Sofia’s head swung back and forth between them like she was watching a ping-pong match. “Please. It’s not like that.”
God, how was she supposed to tell her parents what was going on? Of course they were angry. While her mother was in surgery for her double mastectomy, Annie had sobbed like a baby. She’d refused to leave her mother’s side once she was returned to her hospital bed, sleeping on the couch until Sal all but carried her out of the room, forcing her to go home and get some proper rest.
Annie had fallen to pieces during the time her mother needed her most, and her family had rallied around her. Telling them that she’d brought Joseph back into her life would be like spitting on all they’d done. On all the support they’d given her when they should have been focusing solely on Connie.
“What did he say to you? If he tried to say sorry, I hope you slapped his face.” Her mother’s cheeks were the same shade of pink as the flowers on her apron. “That man does not deserve to be forgiven.”
“Connie,” Sal growled. “That’s enough.”
The room fell silent as Annie’s big bear of a stepdad came over to the table with a fresh cup of coffee. The steaming black liquid filled the air with a calming aroma, and he added a dash of milk—just the way Annie liked it—before handing it over.
“I’m just saying,” her mother went on. “I will not tolerate people hurting my baby.”
“He’s not hurting me.” Annie dropped down into a seat and brought the mug up to her lips.
If he was hurting her, it would probably be easier. She could cast him back to Voldemort status and move on. If he’d come home and decided to screw his way around Manhattan, then she could point the finger and say, “See, I told you he was a jerk.” That would be easy. Comfortable, even.
But knowing that he regretted his engagement and that it had broken down because his ex thought he still had feelings for Annie was mind-boggling. She had no idea what to do about that. As for the sex he labeled as meaning something…
Yep. You’re screwed.
Or not screwed as the case might be. Because how the hell was she supposed to admit it wasn’t “just sex” to her either? That no matter how much she wanted to divorce the physical and emotional, she…couldn’t.
“You’re here, and you’re in tears,” her mother pointed out. “What other conclusions should I draw?”
Annie sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Come on, Sofia.” Sal patted his youngest daughter on the shoulder. “Time to go to school.”
It wasn’t, of course. Sofia had at least another half hour before she needed to leave, but that was her stepdad’s way of giving Annie some space. He grabbed a cornetto and his coffee mug and herded Sofia ahead of him, pausing only to plant a kiss on Annie’s head before they left her and Connie alone.
“Eat.” Her mother gestured to the pastries, but Annie’s stomach was in knots. She’d be lucky to keep the coffee down, let alone anything else.
“I’m not hungry.”
Connie looked like she was about to argue, but then she took a seat. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Where did she even start? Annie swallowed. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“With my life.” She shook her head. How had she gotten so lost? Before the breakup, she’d been so focused. She’d known exactly what she wanted. Then Joseph had left and she’d started Bad Bachelors, and before she even knew what was happening, everything had spiraled out of control.
She’d almost lost her friends. Her safety was being threatened. Her performance at work had been slipping because she was so distracted and disengaged. Now she was fighting feelings for the man she’d loved so hard it had sent her down this dark path.
“I thought I was doing all the right things.”
She hadn’t gone the rebound route and jumped straight into bed with another guy. Or worse, jumped straight into another relationship. She’d found something to throw her energy into, found a purpose to keep her motivated. She’d coped with the stress of her mother’s cancer by being even fitter and healthier, by working hard and keeping busy.
Wasn’t that what all the articles said? Don’t fall in a heap; drink your water and eat your veggies. Find something in life to be passionate about.
How did it all go so wrong?
“I’m trying to help people, but other people are getting hurt, and I don’t know what to do. Am I supposed to quit because people are angry, or do I push on knowing that I am helping some people?” Annie was fully aware that she was babbling and likely making zero sense. “It’s like everyone’s screaming, and I can’t figure out who to listen to.”
“You never did well with gray areas.” Her mother’s dark eyes softened. “When you were a kid, you used to make me write out my rules so you could refer back to them if I got upset at you. We ended up with a list as long as War and Peace, because every time a new scenario came up, you’d make me write it down.”
Annie’s lip twitched, a smile close despite her worries. “I remember that.”
“And then there was the time I had to go down to your school because you’d called Mrs. De Luca a ‘bad teacher’ because she gave you a C even though you said you’d satisfied all the assignment criteria.”
“She was a bad teacher.” Annie sipped her coffee, the tension slowly leaving her muscles. “You can’t tell people to do XYZ and then grade them badly because they didn’t include ABC.”
Connie laughed. “True. But that’s life, isn’t it? You think you have everything covered, and then out of nowhere, you get hit.”
“Yeah. It sucks donkey balls.”
Outside, two car doors slammed and Annie watched Sal’s truck pull out into the street. The large tree across the road was totally devoid of leaves now, and the spindly branches shuddered in the wind. Annie clutched her mug and turned her attention to the dark liquid.
“People are more resilient than they think,” Connie said. “I never thought I’d survive after your father died.”
Annie sucked in a breath. Her mother rarely broached this topic, and Annie had often wondered if she continued to think about her first husband, given she was so happy with Sal. All the fairy tales spoke of finding your “one true love,” but Annie had never been able to reconcile with that. If love was a one-time-only deal, who was her mother’s true love: Sal or Annie’s father?
“The day he died, I remember sitting in the hospital while you played at my feet. I stared at the floor and I prayed, ‘Dear God, please open a hole right now, and I will gladly jump in.’” She fiddled with the chunky gold hoop in her ear. “I wanted to die too. I wanted to go with him because I didn’t think I was strong enough to face things on my own.”
But her mother had turned out to be made of incredibly tough stuff. She’d worked multiple jobs most of Annie’s childhood, sacrificing her own needs to see that Annie got an education, then she’d faced breast cancer head-on and with a don’t fuck with me attitude.
“Do you still think about him a lot?” Annie asked.
Her mother nodded. “Yeah, I do. He was such a big part of my life. It’s not like I can turn that part of my memory off just because I’m with Sal. And frankly, I don’t want to forget him. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be happy now.”
Maybe that’s what was happening with Joseph. She was stuck in the limbo of wanting to move on but clinging to the good memories. Maybe all the desire she felt now was nothing but her brain trying to recapture the past. Her mother was proof that it was possible to move on. To find happiness and a second love.
Because the fact remained that Annie had loved Joseph. Him leaving couldn’t erase that, as much as she’d wished for it at the time. Yet their breakup didn’t have to mean she’d squandered her “one chance” at true love.
“What’s going on, Annie?” her mother asked. “It’s not like you to show up in tears.”
“I had a moment of weakness.” She shook her head. Her mother would never act like that—letting fear sweep her along until control slipped through her fingers. “I should have called first.”
Connie rolled her eyes. “Leanne Carmela Maxwell, you are always welcome in this house. I don’t give a shit if it’s three in the morning. I am your mother, and I will always be here for you.”
Annie got out of her chair and went to hug her mother. There wasn’t a bad feeling in the world that couldn’t be soothed by a warm, maternal embrace. Her mother smelled of coffee and orange rind mixed with the faded perfume lingering on her clothing. Her frizzy hair brushed Annie’s cheek as they held each other.
“Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out,” Connie said, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek. “You’re smart and strong, and you have a good heart. If you stop freaking out for a minute, you’ll figure out what to do.”
Annie wanted so badly to tell her mother about the whole mess—about Bad Bachelors and Joseph and how she had no idea what she was doing. No idea what she wanted. Lately, she’d lost interest in her day job, lost interest in everything outside Bad Bachelors. For someone who’d always had a strong sense of purpose in life, she’d become adrift.
“Why don’t you come to my catch-up with the girls today?” Connie said. “We’ve got our monthly Fuck Cancer poker game.”
Annie smiled. Growing up, she’d always been a little embarrassed by how loud and brash her mother was. She cursed and wore outrageously colored outfits and never let people ignore her. As an adult, it made Annie love and respect her mother even more. She was who she was. And screw anyone who didn’t like her.
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“Nonsense. We’re going to Joan’s house. She would love to see you again.” Her mother winked. “Plus you’re terrible at poker, so the ladies will take all your money.”
Annie laughed and shook her head. Maybe getting away from her computer and her troubles for a few hours would be exactly what she needed to get some fresh perspective. “Okay,” she said, nodding. “I’d love that.”
A few hours later, Connie and Annie had driven to Red Hook to visit Joan and the rest of the Fuck Cancer gang. There were five ladies in total: Joan, their host, who’d survived breast cancer like Connie. Amity, a self-defense instructor and model who’d survived ovarian cancer. Martha, a foster mom to three boys, who’d survived endometrial cancer. And Bonita, an artist who’d survived colon cancer. They were a motley crew, a mismatched group of women who probably wouldn’t have crossed paths if it wasn’t for the cancer patient support group where they’d all met.
“The November meeting of Fuck Cancer is now in session.” Joan banged a hot-pink, rhinestone-studded gavel on her kitchen table. Annie had no idea why they started the poker game with a gavel, but who was she to question it? “We’re here for a good time, not a long time.”
“Hear, hear!” Glasses were raised all around.
“It’s nice to see you again, Annie.” Martha smiled as she shuffled the cards. Her voice barely rose above the sound of the other women catching up. She was the quietest of the group. “Are you on vacation at the moment?”
“I just took the day off work.” She watched as Martha’s hands deftly dealt the cards, her purple glittery nail polish catching the light. “I needed some peace and quiet to clear my head.”
“And you came here?” Bonita laughed. “The only peace and quiet you’ll get from me is when I’m dead.”
“Amen to that,” Amity chimed in. In contrast to Bonita’s long, black dreadlocks, Amity had a shaved head. Something she’d decided to keep after losing her hair during chemo. That, coupled with the tattoos peeking out from the edge of her top, gave her a tough vibe. And she was tough, but she was also one of the sweetest, gentlest souls Annie had ever met. “In fact, I was teaching in my class the other day that being as loud as you can is just as important as putting up a physical fight.”
“I may have to come and visit you at the studio,” Annie said, picking up her cards. They were playing Texas Hold’em, and she had a two and a four. Unsuited. Not a good start, but she threw a few chips into the center anyway. “Pick up a few pointers.”
“Why?” Connie’s sharp voice made Annie cringe. For a moment, she’d forgotten her mother was sitting right next to her.
“It’s good to know that stuff.” Annie shrugged, aiming for nonchalance, but having no idea if she’d hit the mark.
“This isn’t anything to do with Joseph, is it?” Her mother narrowed her eyes.
“The ex-boyfriend?” Amity raised a brow and tossed in a few chips herself. “Don’t tell me that douchebag is back on the scene.”
Of course, Joseph had been a hot topic of conversation among the ladies after the breakup, because Annie had been at the hospital with her mother a lot. Back then, Connie had only met Amity and Joan.
“He came back from Singapore with his tail between his legs,” Connie clarified, and Annie shot her a look. “What? It’s a fact.”
Martha waited for everyone to finish betting. Then she dealt the flop. Two queens and a four. Annie watched for everyone’s reactions.
“No, it’s not. He came back for work,” she said, still looking at her cards. As soon as that popped out of her mouth, she cursed herself. “Or so I heard.”
Connie raised an eyebrow. “Did you hear it directly from him?”
Thanks to Darcy’s quick thinking, Annie had managed to avoid telling the truth the first time her mother had asked. But now, face-to-face, she couldn’t find it in herself to lie. “Maybe.”
“Ease up, Mama.” Amity placed a hand on Connie’s arm.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Annie tossed a few more chips into the center, having no idea if she should have folded or not. It was hard to concentrate under her mother’s scrutiny. “I knew you’d be pissed that I’d seen him, and I didn’t know well enough how I felt about the whole thing to answer all the questions you’d undoubtedly fire at me.”
