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Raella's POV
“I’ll get you both some drinks and then come back in a few minutes for dinner.” Joey ushered him into the room and then tossed me a subtle wink before he disappeared.
My dad and I stared at each other for a second before he held out the bouquet of flowers I hadn’t even registered he was holding. “These are for you.”
“Oh. Wow. Thank you.” I fumbled with them for a second, our hands brushing awkwardly.
I couldn’t believe I used to hug this man and let him read me stories before bed. He was a stranger now in every way that mattered.
“Joey keeps the vases… somewhere.” I gestured vaguely towards the pantry. “He’ll put these in one later.”
“Before he does, make sure you get this out.” He reached out and plucked something out of the center of the bouquet. “It’s my poor attempt at an edible arrangement of sorts. I remember you liking those.”
I wasn’t sure what he was holding until he flipped the white bag over. “Is that saltwater taffy?”
He smiled. “From that shop we used to go to. Marina’s Confectionery. It’s still open. They moved to a bigger location, but they still make taffy. Isn’t that wild?”
Instantly, crystal-clear memories of hopping down the sidewalk hand-in-hand with my dad flooded back to me. Every so often, he would take me with him to the hardware store. Afterwards, we would walk down the block and buy a bouquet from the flower stand and a bag of saltwater taffy from Marina’s. I would ration out the taffy for weeks afterward, eating only one piece or half a piece per day to make it last.
All at once, the anxiety I had felt all day shifted to something else. Something raw and painful that I had tried to squash down for years.
“Are those okay?” he asked, misunderstanding my sudden tears. “Do you not like them anymore? I should have guessed. It was years and years ago when you used to eat those. I just thought—”
“I love them.” I swiped at my eyes and put on a smile. “I do. I love them so much that I… I haven’t had them since you left. Er, since we left. It was too hard to remember the old days.”
His face pinched with sympathy.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to do this. We were going to have a normal dinner, but I already made it weird. I didn’t mean—”
“You didn’t make it weird. You made it honest.” He blew out a breath. “All of this is hard, Corde—Raella. But we’re here and I’m glad we’re trying to figure it out. No matter how uncomfortable it is.”
“You’re uncomfortable, too?”
“Oh God, yes,” he groaned. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m happy to be here. I’m so glad you agreed to have dinner with me. But I guess owning up to your shit is never easy. No matter how much you want to. And I do want to. That’s what I’m here to do. I want to tell you how sorry I am about not reaching out to you sooner. And for being angry.”
Joey hadn’t even come back with drinks yet and we were already diving into the deep end. It felt nice, though. I was tired of putting up a facade.
“I was angry, too. I still am a little bit,” I admitted. “Not at you, necessarily, but at the situation. And, yeah, partly at you.”
He shrugged. “That’s okay. Hopefully, we’ll spend enough time with each other that we can sort through all of it. Because I don’t want this to be our last dinner. I don’t want to go another ten years without seeing you.”
I laid the candy on the counter and grabbed his hand, holding it loosely in mine. “Then we won’t.”
He smiled and we sat down at the island.
It became clear very quickly that I had spent all day worrying about nothing. My dad wasn’t here to judge the house or my hosting abilities. He wasn’t nitpicking and looking for cracks in my story. He was here to get to know me. To make things right.
He even tried to make things right between me and my mom. “I’m not saying you should forgive her, but I think you should understand her,” he said at one point.
He told me about her life growing up. The reason she was so good at living on the streets was because she had done it before. Her entire childhood had been in constant flux. No stable house, no guaranteed meals, no one to depend on.
“When you and your mom left, things weren’t great for me at work. We were struggling financially. It wasn’t anything too serious, but even the whisper of problems sent your mom spiraling. I’m not surprised she ended up running to Damian. All she wanted was stability.”
“Financial stability,” I clarified. “Because that man is not mentally stable. I don’t think Mom is anymore, either.”
I told him about the last few weeks and what Mom and Damian had tried to do to me. I cried and he looked murderous, but we talked each other down. Then, somehow, we started laughing.
The conversation ebbed and flowed effortlessly. We reminisced on good memories, talked about the hard times, and, best of all, talked about absolutely nothing. The weather, television, our favorite music. We talked until I forgot why I was nervous in the first place.
When he was done with the apple turnover Joey made for dessert, my dad sat back and smiled. “You seem really happy here, Raella.”
I couldn’t help but smile back. “I am happy. I’m… I’m in love.”
I hadn’t fully admitted it to Vincenzo yet. Not in the exact words. But he knew.
“He loves you, too. The way the two of you are with each other… Well, anyone can see how you feel. I’m glad you’ve found someone.”
A new wave of tears threatened to flow—who knew one person could be this happy?—when I heard the front door open.
I glanced at the clock. “Wow. I didn’t realize it was already after ten.” Vincenzo had told me he’d make himself scarce until my dad was gone, but he probably hadn’t thought our dinner would go this long.
“It’s a lot later than I thought.” He stood up and stretched. “I should get going and let you get to bed.”
“Or you could stay for a few more minutes? Vincenzo is here. Maybe we can all… talk?”
Like a real family, I thought.
I knew one night was not enough to fix everything, but it was a good start. And Vincenzo was the one who had pushed me to even being open to this idea in the first place. I wanted him and my dad to get along.
“Yeah, sure,” he agreed. “I can do that.”
“Amazing. I’ll go grab him before he sneaks upstairs. He’s probably trying to give us space.”
I lightly jogged out of the kitchen and down the hallway towards the entryway. “Vincenzo! You can come back here if you—”
I slammed to a stop in the entryway as Carmella turned to me and smiled. “Were you expecting someone else?”