“Dominic,” I whisper and his eyes snap to mine instantly despite the preacher asking us to bow our heads in prayer. Dominic is probably in shock because it’s one of the few times I’ve spoken in the past week. I nod towards the mysterious man. “Do you know who that is?”
His sad blue eyes trace my face for a second before he pulls his gaze from me almost reluctantly and looks towards the man. “Son of a bitch,” he murmurs. He leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs and puts his head in his hands. His father, seated to the left of him, rests his hand on his back, assumedly trying to comfort him. From an outsider’s perspective, I’m sure it seems like he’s having a moment of weakness. Like he’s breaking down over losing the love of his life, but I can feel the tension radiating off of him in waves.
He is pissed.
“Who is it?” I lean forward and repeat my question.
He doesn’t answer again, nor does he meet my eyes, and I’m instantly irritated over his blatant disregard for my question. I sit back in my chair with a huff, crossing my legs, making my skirt ride up slightly and revealing more leg than may be appropriate for a funeral. Dominic sits back in his seat. “Later. Not now.”
After the funeral, Dominic and I have been passed around several times for hugs, kisses, and what seemed like never ending promises of ‘anything you need’ and ‘call anytime.’ I’m sure most of them meant it, but I’m sure most of them know I’ll never call them. I don’t need many people. My grandparents. My best friend. My mother. I bite the inside of my cheek as the tears form for the first time in a week.
My mother is dead.
I don’t have a father.
I’m an orphan.
That’s not true. You’ve got Dominic.
He’s not my father.
He’s the closest thing you’ve got.
I’m just about to provide another rebuttal to my subconscious, but in that moment, fate decides after seventeen and a half years, it’s ready to fuck with my daddy abandonment issues.
“You look just like her.”
I had managed to get away from the crowds and the endless hugs that were making me feel like I was suffocating. I’d stepped away for some peace and maybe to take the edible that Kate had given me in case I needed an escape.
I turn around to find the guy that I’d spotted at the funeral. Mob guy. I blink several times as if to say what do you want? His English is good, but his Italian accent is thick. Like maybe he’s spent a lot of time here at some point but is currently living abroad.
“How old are you?” he asks and I frown at his question. No, I’m sorry for your loss? My condolences? What the fuck?
“I’ll be eighteen next month.”
“Wow.” He chuckles and pulls his glasses from his face. “I feel so old at this moment.” He takes a step closer to me and I take a step back, suddenly wishing that I hadn’t been so curious about this man. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Who are you? I’ve…I’ve never seen you before. Are you a long lost family member or something?” Maybe an old boyfriend of my mother’s?
“Or something.” He nods as he slides his glasses back on. “Stassia, right?”
“You know my name, but I don’t know anything about you. How about we just cut to the chase? In case you couldn’t tell, I’m not really in the mood for it today.”
“Get the fuck away from her, you worthless piece of shit.” My eyes widen when I hear Dominic’s voice booming over all of us. My grandmother is behind him and I want to glare at Dominic for using that kind of language around her but something tells me that she’s on board with it at the moment with the way she’s glaring at the mysterious stranger.
The stranger’s eyes find Dominic’s and he puts his hands up in surrender. “I just came to pay my respects.”
“Pay your respects? Are you fucking serious?” Dominic growls.
He shakes his head and pulls his glasses from his face to clean the lenses, but if I had to guess, it seems more like psychological warfare than anything. “Have you thought that maybe you don’t know everything? Maybe there’s things about your precious wife you don’t know?” he says as he slides them onto the bridge of his nose.
“Screw you,” I snap before Dominic can say anything. “Let’s say for argument’s sake he doesn’t know everything if you’re going to allude that you had some weird relationship that has her cheating on her husband. I call bullshit, because I’d know. I do know everything.”
My mother and I were close, we told each other everything.
“So, you know all about me, then?”
Dominic takes a step closer to the stranger, partially in front of me, blocking my view. “Stassia, go with your grandmother.”
“Come on, honey.” I smell her before I feel her hand encased in mine. Cocoa Butter and a brief hint of cinnamon. One of my favorite smells.
“Wait. I want to know who this is. Why does he know me?” I take a step forward and look up at Dominic. We get on each other’s nerves and we knew how to push each other’s buttons but to my knowledge, he’s never lied to me. In fact, he’s quite good at doling out the hard truth when it’s necessary, even if it hurt.
“She knows nothing of me, does she?”
“Why would she? You haven’t been around.” My grandmother interjects. “Ever.”
“That was by no choice of mine,” he retorts.
I frown, hearing the words spelled out almost completely for me. “Wait.” I stop. “Are you…” I take a step forward, in front of Dominic, and I stare into the eyes of the man who’s becoming less and less like a mystery. “Are you…my father?”
He has the decency to look contrite as he slides his hands into his pockets. “She kept you away from me, Stassia…”
“Bullshit!” Dominic spits out from behind me and I put up a hand, which I know he hates, but I’m hoping in this moment he’ll just shut the fuck up.
“Answer my question,” I demand.
“You’re a spitfire, aren’t you?” I narrow my eyes, staring him down. He pulls his jacket tighter around him as wind whips around us in this already icy moment. “Yes.”
I was anticipating that answer, but clearly, the rest of me wasn’t because I drop to my knees in a fit of sobs. The cathartic release my body has been desperate for clings to that one word that leaves his lips. How!?
“Shit.” I hear and then strong arms are wrapped around me. For a brief moment, I think it is dear old dad comforting me and my back stiffens, but then a sense of familiarity washes over me. “It’s just me,” Dominic whispers in my ear. “I’ve got you.”
I briefly hear my grandmother and grandfather, who rarely raises his voice, using the words good for nothing and abandoned and so much fucking back child support.
Dominic pulls me to my feet so my back is to the altercation and he slowly walks me away from the scene unfolding. “Don’t look back there. That’s not about you. It’s just that asshole making the situation about him, per usual.”
My mind is racing a mile a minute, trying to unpack everything that’s happened in the last week. Losing one parent but gaining another? Is this the trade off? If so, this is bullshit. But I also know if this is the last chance I’ll ever have to speak to the man that is responsible for half of my DNA, I want answers. Or at least one fucking answer. I pull from Dominic’s grasp and move towards my grandparents and whatever his name is.