dad at his and Allison’s home, but there is no wealth of affection between us. We never talk by phone. It hit me with a sickening force that something terrible must’ve happened and that is why she’d called me. Before I could summon the courage to ask her, she asked me a question.
“Are you going to tell me where he is or not?”
Allison didn’t sound worried or afraid. She sounded angry.
“What?”
“Are you going to tell me where he is?”
She didn’t know where my dad was, and she was darn sure that I did. “Allison, I haven’t the slightest idea what you are talking about.”
“So that’s the way it’s going to be?”
I had never heard her sound so incredibly ticked off. What on earth had my dad done?
“What has happened? Where’s my dad?” The second question was out of my mouth before I could yank it back in. She hadn’t the foggiest where my dad was. That’s why she’d called.
“I know he was planning a trip to Europe with you,” Allison snapped. “Is that where he is? Are you going to meet him there?”
“Allison, I haven’t heard from him in several days. I don’t know where he is! Are you sure he’s okay? Should we call the police?”
“Oh, I’m definitely calling the police! He stole fifty thousand dollars from me! And my car! And my jewelry. You can bet I am calling the police!”
Oh, Lord .
Instantly I felt Florence slipping away from me. A thick ache spilled inside as four words seemed to strike up a dirge in my head. Not going to Florence. Not going to Florence . Dad has left Allison. He has left me. He has left all of us.
There is no trip to Florence.
A sound escaped me; a single, strangled moan.
Allison either did not hear it or just refused to acknowledge it. “His passport is gone. His clothes are gone. And fifty thousand dollars of my money is gone! And you were the last one to talk to him!”
“I swear to you, I don’t know where he is.”
“Sure you don’t.”
The line clicked dead.
I tossed my phone onto my desk, and I tried very hard to rein it in. But my resolve was crumbling. Years of little-girl disappointment flooded up from a deep place inside me.
The tears started to fall despite frantic attempts to rub them away.
The sound of my door closing made me snap my head up. Gabe.
He moved closer to me, concern etched in his face. “What’s happened?”
At first I couldn’t bring myself to say it, because saying something somehow makes it more real. I eked out the words “He left.”
And somehow Gabe knew exactly what I meant.
That terrible time when Giovanni died, my poor mother lost not only her favorite brother, a second brother, and her beloved mother all in less than a month, but she lost another baby as well.
I know what it is like to lose so much all at once. It’s as if you’ve been shattered into a million fragments. I wonder who she turned to then for solace. I do not mean who she took to her bed. I am not yet married, but I’m of the mind that balm for the soul is not found in the bedchamber. Physical relations, near as I can tell, can distract you from your troubles, but they do not solve any of them. I should like to be proven wrong about that in the days to come.
What does one do with a heart that has been broken? One might look for a bonding agent that will fuse the pieces back together. Or one might learn to live among the shards.
Or one might be tempted to sweep up the bits and toss them and be done with hearts.
11
The rest of my day was tedious and torturous. Right after I’d summoned the words to explain to Gabe my dad had run out on Allison—and me—Geoffrey appeared at my door, looking for Gabe.
There had been no time to fix my makeup or even blow my nose. It took all of half a second for Geoffrey to realize I’d been crying.
He frowned at Gabe. “What on earth did you say to her?”
Gabe opened his mouth to, no doubt, assure Geoffrey he’d said nothing, but he hesitated, and I filled the space.
“He
“Are you going to tell me where he is or not?”
Allison didn’t sound worried or afraid. She sounded angry.
“What?”
“Are you going to tell me where he is?”
She didn’t know where my dad was, and she was darn sure that I did. “Allison, I haven’t the slightest idea what you are talking about.”
“So that’s the way it’s going to be?”
I had never heard her sound so incredibly ticked off. What on earth had my dad done?
“What has happened? Where’s my dad?” The second question was out of my mouth before I could yank it back in. She hadn’t the foggiest where my dad was. That’s why she’d called.
“I know he was planning a trip to Europe with you,” Allison snapped. “Is that where he is? Are you going to meet him there?”
“Allison, I haven’t heard from him in several days. I don’t know where he is! Are you sure he’s okay? Should we call the police?”
“Oh, I’m definitely calling the police! He stole fifty thousand dollars from me! And my car! And my jewelry. You can bet I am calling the police!”
Oh, Lord .
Instantly I felt Florence slipping away from me. A thick ache spilled inside as four words seemed to strike up a dirge in my head. Not going to Florence. Not going to Florence . Dad has left Allison. He has left me. He has left all of us.
There is no trip to Florence.
A sound escaped me; a single, strangled moan.
Allison either did not hear it or just refused to acknowledge it. “His passport is gone. His clothes are gone. And fifty thousand dollars of my money is gone! And you were the last one to talk to him!”
“I swear to you, I don’t know where he is.”
“Sure you don’t.”
The line clicked dead.
I tossed my phone onto my desk, and I tried very hard to rein it in. But my resolve was crumbling. Years of little-girl disappointment flooded up from a deep place inside me.
The tears started to fall despite frantic attempts to rub them away.
The sound of my door closing made me snap my head up. Gabe.
He moved closer to me, concern etched in his face. “What’s happened?”
At first I couldn’t bring myself to say it, because saying something somehow makes it more real. I eked out the words “He left.”
And somehow Gabe knew exactly what I meant.
That terrible time when Giovanni died, my poor mother lost not only her favorite brother, a second brother, and her beloved mother all in less than a month, but she lost another baby as well.
I know what it is like to lose so much all at once. It’s as if you’ve been shattered into a million fragments. I wonder who she turned to then for solace. I do not mean who she took to her bed. I am not yet married, but I’m of the mind that balm for the soul is not found in the bedchamber. Physical relations, near as I can tell, can distract you from your troubles, but they do not solve any of them. I should like to be proven wrong about that in the days to come.
What does one do with a heart that has been broken? One might look for a bonding agent that will fuse the pieces back together. Or one might learn to live among the shards.
Or one might be tempted to sweep up the bits and toss them and be done with hearts.
11
The rest of my day was tedious and torturous. Right after I’d summoned the words to explain to Gabe my dad had run out on Allison—and me—Geoffrey appeared at my door, looking for Gabe.
There had been no time to fix my makeup or even blow my nose. It took all of half a second for Geoffrey to realize I’d been crying.
He frowned at Gabe. “What on earth did you say to her?”
Gabe opened his mouth to, no doubt, assure Geoffrey he’d said nothing, but he hesitated, and I filled the space.
“He
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