18 A glimpse of the past

The week goes by painfully slow. Every day seems longer than the last. I must admit I’ve learned many new skills at my job, but I haven’t seen Stefan once since last Sunday and the longing is killing me. He’s been busy with work and has spent most of his time supervising shipments. Part of me prefers it because at least that way he’s not at home as much and the less he’s there the fewer chances there are of my mom being rude to him, but it also means I don’t get to see him as much. 

I look incessantly at the clock on my screen, it’s Friday and I’m ready to go home. At 4:45 pm I call Ivan to ask him to pick me up, but he says ‘Mr. Corvino’ is coming to get me. My heart fills with joy. I go to the restroom to fix my makeup, I brought my blush, lipstick, and eyeliner with me in case this happened, I also brought a toothbrush, perfume, and a comb; my purse is heavier than usual, but right now I’m glad I made that choice. 

At 5 pm I rush to the exit, Stefan is waiting for me on the sidewalk in front of the glass office building. I jump into his arms making him stagger a little. A few bystanders look askance at us, but I don’t mind because I’m bursting with joy and I guess Stefan doesn’t mind either, because he laughs it off and then grabs my hand to walk with me to his car.

I don’t even pay attention to the road, I’m too happy to care where we are going. I tell him about my week while he listens in silence. He suddenly parks the car on an unfamiliar street. There’s not a lot of movement, two pedestrians a few yards in front of us, and a closed deli right behind us. Most of the streetlights are out or flickering, it looks like the perfect street to get mugged. 

“What are we doing here?” I ask feeling a little fidgeted. Maybe we should go to a street with better lighting and more crowded. It doesn’t even have to be crowded, I would settle for five decent-looking people.  

“We’re having the most delicious pizza you have ever tasted,” he says as he steps out of the car. 

I look around. The only restaurant I see is the old deli that looks like it’s been abandoned for years. Stefan puts his arm around me to take me to the side of an unremarkable apartment building, he knocks on the old wooden green door in front of us and a fat greasy man leans out. The man examines us before opening the door all the way to let us in. I’m reluctant to step in, but Stefan presses my back lightly to encourage me. We walk down a narrow stair that leads to a tiny and intimate restaurant. There’s a wood-fired oven in the back next to a mahogany bar top where a man with gray hair wearing a black apron is serving a martini. There are only 5 tables for the diners, 3 of them are already taken. An elderly woman smiles at us and points to a free table without saying a word. As we sit, she brings us a basket with breadsticks and hands us two paper menus. Before I can look at the options, Stefan orders for the both of us. It annoys me a little, but I don’t want to ruin the evening over a trifle. He’s obviously the kind of man who likes to feel like he’s in charge of everything, if this is something he likes to do I can let him once in a while, I just wish he ordered something yummy because I’m starving. 

“How did you know about this place?” I ask. 

“It was my mom’s favorite, she said it was the closest she found to the pizza back home in Italy. She used to bring us here all the time when we were little,” he replies while looking at the other tables.

“We?” I ask intrigued. I would otherwise assume he was talking about him and his father, but he clearly said when we were little, so his dad is ruled out. 

“Me and my sister,” he says carelessly.

“What? You said you had no siblings!” I exclaim outraged. I can’t believe I just caught him on such a big lie. What else has he lied about? And why would he lie about something so silly as having a sister? It’s absurd, even if the truth hadn’t slip of him right now, I would have known eventually. 

Stefan’s eyes meet mine, there’s confusion in his gaze like he doesn’t get why I’m upset. 

“I said I don’t have siblings, that doesn’t mean I didn’t have one before,” he states like it’s obvious. 

My heart compresses in my chest. He lost a sister, he knows what that feels like. I feel awful for thinking he was a liar.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. It’s really painful when a sibling dies... I had a hard time dealing with what happened to Alex, I cried a lot for months.” I’m trying to sound empathetic, but telling by Stefan’s expression I’m clearly not succeeding. 

“Yeah... Rebecca is not death... she’s just not my sister anymore,” he explains as if the subject was boring. My interest, of course, rises.

“What? I don’t understand... What happened to her?” I ask confused, I don’t want to seem nosy, but I can’t help to be intrigued, nor my baffled expression as I speak. 

“I honestly don’t know. She ran away after my mom killed herself and we haven’t heard from her since. I have no idea where she lives or what she does for a living. I have the feeling that my aunt Agatha is in touch with her, but it’s just a hunch and I couldn’t care less. She left, she didn’t care about me or the family, she just took off. So as far as I’m concerned, she’s no longer my sister.” Stefan talks as carelessly as if he was commenting on the weather. 

I’m perplexed. There’s so much to unwrap in those few short sentences. No wonder he is always reluctant to talk about himself. 

“So... your mom... how... when...” I babble not sure of what to say. “How old were you when your mom died?” I finally ask. 

“16. She hanged herself in her bedroom if that was what you were going to ask next,” he replies calmly. 

“I’m so sorry... about your sister too.” 

“Whatever. It was a long time ago.” Stefan wrinkles his nose, like my condolences are out of place.

“So you and your dad were left alone? That must have been harsh,” I can’t believe he’s pretending this isn’t a big deal. 

“Not really. I guess my dad was saddened for losing his wife and daughter, but he never really spoke about it. Regarding Rebecca, he just said it was a juvenile impulse and that she would eventually come around. She didn’t. Rebecca never spoke to him again, as far as I know, she blamed him for my mom’s depression or something. Whatever.”

“Didn’t he tried to find her?” 

“Yes, he hired a private detective and all. I’m pretty sure he found Rebecca, but I never cared to ask. But, as I told you, my aunt Agatha must know more. They were close back then and I’m almost sure they are still in touch,” Stefan is playing fidgety with his fork, so I can tell he’s not as above this topic as he wants me to believe he is.  

“Have you ever asked your aunt?” I try not to sound too inquisitive, he’s being sincere for once and I don’t want to scare him off. 

“What’s the point? I have all the family I need. Family that never turned their back on the rest of us. That stick together even in the midst of hardship.” Stefan lets the fork fall off his fingers, he’s irritated, time to redirect the conversation.

“What part of Italy is your family from?” I ask trying to change the subject.

“Sicily.” 

“Really, my dad was born in Sicily too!” I exclaim surprised by the coincidence. 

“Yes, I know, that’s where our parents' rivalry started... long before you and I were even born,” he says like it’s obvious. “And then they both end up in this country and continued to hate each other.”

“You said your dad lived abroad, did he went back to Sicily?” I ask. 

“No,” he replies curtly. 

I wait for him to expand on his response, but he doesn’t. 

“Is this aunt Agatha you mentioned sister of your dad or your mom?” I ask trying no to be bothered by his last reply. 

“Agatha is my dad’s younger sister. She lives with him and takes care of my grandparents. My granddad has dementia so it’s a lot of work, but she’s great with him and grandma. She has all the patience in the world, she’s really nice.” Stefan’s expression lightens. It’s clear he doesn’t like to talk about his mother and sister.

After this conversation, I now get why he avoided talking about my brother. He was probably reminded of his own loss. I get it, it’s never easy to face one’s past, although I’m glad he shared this piece of his life with me, even if it’s sad, I feel like I’m closer to him now.  

After dinner, we go back to his apartment. My heart starts racing from the moment we approach his building. My whole body is filled with excitement. Just going up the elevator feels like foreplay. As soon as the doors open, Stefan clasps my hand and takes me straight to his bedroom. 

“I’ve been thinking about this the whole week,” he whispers to my ear as he unzips my dress. 

“Me too,” I murmur as I close my eyes.