“Hmm, don’t remember that.”
“Ha, you liar. You must like him if you are bothering to deny he’s a stud.”
“Well, he would be perfect for a damsel in distress but I’m not one,” I say, pulling my hair up into a bun. It’s getting warm in here with all this talk about Marcello.
“You sure about that? Your parents practically kept you locked in a tower. If it wasn’t for college and sneaking out, you’d have no social skills. Trust me, I’ve known you from St. Mary’s Catholic High School.”
“True,” I admit.
I’m done eating and return to the hallway and I put the phone on speaker and set it down so I can stack Papa’s folded clothes.
“We had a banner day at the store, but I’m sure it’s no consolation for how sad you’re feeling. I’m going to miss your dad’s speeches about how you need to marry a nice Albanian boy.”
So true, I’d give anything to hear him lecture me one more time.
“Your dad was too ornery to die. I didn’t know he had a bad heart.”
“Neither did I,” I mumble.
We’re both quiet for a minute.
“I can come over,” she suggests.
“Thanks, I’m fine. I’m tired and it’s been a long day. I’d be terrible company.”
“Are you sure? It’s not a problem for me to come.”
“No, it’s fine. I just want to be alone.”
“Okay, if you change your mind, I’m here. I know how close you were to your dad. Not like my shithole of a sperm donor.”
If her intent was to lighten my mood, it worked. “Thanks, Mila, you’re the best.”
I love listening to Mila speak Italian with a quasi-British accent. Her mother is Italian, and her father is British. He’s rarely around and she still lives at home, but maybe now she can move up in my company and be able to get a place of her own.
I hang up and hide the money and the black book in my underwear drawer. I need something stronger than water and pour myself a glass of wine to drink while I finish unpacking and storing the suitcases.
I fill a bowl with the rest of the mac n cheese and carry it to the living room where another movie has started. I just loveTwister, especially the part where the cows fly. I know it’s ridiculous, but I laugh at it every time.
I love cows. Their iconic black and white markings never grow old. Seriously, anyone who doesn’t find a baby cow with those big brown eyes adorable doesn’t have a heart.
I stay up as late as possible, waiting for Besnik. To kill time, I arrange all the clothing on Papa’s bed, not knowing what to do with them. Then, I put my clothes away, hoping one day in the future I can ski again without feeling sad.
After a hot shower, I curl up in bed and pull the covers over me as if they will protect me from from my uncle, if and when he shows up.
I wake up to the sound of pounding on my door. A quick look at the mantle clock in the hallway says it’s 2 a.m.
I can see through the peephole that it’s him.
“What took you so long? It’s late,” I scold him as soon as I open the door.
“I had stuff to do. Look, you need to stop making waves. I’m trying to help you. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t ask any questions. I don’t know what happened to your dad and we have to be smart.”
Uncle Besnik has bags under his eyes and his voice is weak so he must be working hard. Now I know he’s involved in gambling and card games, which are run by organized crime.
“Was my father in with some bad guys?”
“Bad guys? Well, I wouldn’t say we’re bad. Connected? Yes. And I can’t possibly make you understand how important it is that you don’t talk to anyone about this. I didn’t approve of your dad keeping you in the dark for so long, but when your mother died, he wanted to protect you for as long as possible.”