Avoiding eye contact with him, I dug my spoon through my cereal, the little O’s spinning in circles, kind of like my thoughts. “No, not really.”
He grunted and reared back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest and his lips pursed. “Emilia, we need to talk about it. I didn’t push you that night or the last two days because I could see you weren’t ready, but it’s time.”
“Look, Dad, I understand what I’m supposed to do. Sal already talked to me about it. He said I should move on, forget it ever happened, and that’s what I’m doing. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it. I want to pretend it didn’t happen, and I’m sure that’s what you want too, so we’re all good. No need for a conversation.”
I dropped my spoon onto the table, my appetite vanishing like a mirage in the desert. I couldn’t summon the will to do anything other than stare absently as my mind replayed the events of that day on a continuous reel.
While I understood Sal’s point about those guys being bad people, it didn’t diminish the queasiness swirling inside my gut for days. I watched two men bleed out and die. I’d scoured the internet looking for any signs their death wasn’t a figment of my imagination, and I couldn’t find a single thing. It was like the whole incident never occurred. Tony must be one helluva a cleaner, because two men lost their lives and the world kept going like they were never a part of it in the first place, kind of like my mom. With that realization, the little bites of cereal threatened to reverse course and come back up like a bunch of ugly secrets refusing to kick the bucket.
“Emilia, I know our relationship has been…” he paused, his dark eyes distant, “…strained over the last few years. I want things to change.”
I barely curbed the urge to roll my eyes. “And how do you want to go about changing things between us?”
“We can start by communicating openly. For example, you tell me what happened with Sal, and I’ll explain what I can.”
“You know what? I’ll humor you even though you’re well aware of everything that went down. Sal stopped at some warehouse on the way home. I made the mistake of getting out of the car when I heard a gunshot, and I’m pretty sure you know everything after that.”
He steepled his fingers in front of his face, his eyes boring into me with the force of a laser. “Yeah, yeah, I got that part. Did either of the men say anything unusual?”
Unusual? Was he serious? How was I supposed to know what was out of the ordinary for someone to say while threatening to kill a person? “Um, no.”
“There has to be something. Sal’s been unusually tight-lipped about the whole thing.”
I rubbed my temples, my brain feeling like it would explode any minute. “I don’t know. Oh wait, one of the men mentioned you honoring some bargain. Then he brought up Sal’s dad, and that seemed to set him off. He claimed to have information about Sal’s dad, and I guess Sal didn’t believe him because he shot him instead of trying to get it out of him. I don’t know if that means anything to you, but that’s all I’ve got.”
“Okay, sweetheart. That’s fine. I don’t want to push you too hard. I love you. I know I don’t tell you often enough, but it’s true.” He stood and kissed my cheek. I couldn’t remember the last time my dad showed me any affection.
I nodded, stubbornly willing away the urge to cry. “I love you too.” It wasn’t a lie. I did love him despite the fact that he made my mom so miserable she felt like she didn’t have any choice except to end her life. Part of me wished I hated him. It would make my life much easier because loving him as much as I loathed him tore me apart.
He smiled without it reaching his eyes. While I liked to believe I wasn’t that transparent, maybe I was.
“You look so much like your mom these days. So much so that I think I’m seeing her ghost roaming around these halls.” He pressed a balled up fist to his chest. “Sometimes I wonder if you got any of my genes. I miss her.”
“Yeah, I do too.” My voice was much rougher than I liked. I didn’t want to show any weakness around my dad. He always had an agenda, and I’d be dumb to think he didn’t have one right now.
“I know you blame me for what happened. We were fighting all day. I’m sure you overheard some of our conversation.”
I nodded, unable to speak. Almost by unspoken agreement, we never discussed that night. About a month after she died, I brought it up he shut me down immediately and refused to talk to me for an entire month. I never made that mistake again. It marked the beginning of the end of our relationship. After that, we orbited around each other, never actually connecting on any level, and neither of us had made any effort to change that until today.