Leo’s hand starts moving again, slow, and gentle. “Do you think you will set it aside to work on something else or keep trying?”
Felix is bored with me and goes back to his catnip toy. I sigh. “I don’t know. I do have another story I want to write. It’s set in Venice, though. Before I sit down to write it I want to go to Venice to get a feel for the city.”
“You really never thought about being a writer? It was really just the plaque that compelled you to write?”
“So, you were listening to the interview?”
“Yes, and I read the one in the Guardian. I have also read all your books. They are written so well and are engrossing it does not seem like the kind of thing written by someone on a whim.”
Happiness bubbles inside me at Leo’s compliment. He not only took the time to read my books but liked them, screw being on the bestseller list, this feels a thousand times better.
“Hmm, I don’t know, maybe it was that writing never seemed like an option. My mom wanted me to be a teacher, my dad wanted me to be happy, and sometimes I wanted to be a librarian. Then when I got older as great as the me being happy thing went it made it harder to figure out what paid the bills while making me happy.
“I looked into becoming a librarian, and it was years of school for a crappy salary. The guidance counselor pushed me into business classes, and I went. I always did love to read but I never even thought seriously about writing. I did the short stories in school, and it was fun but a lot of work for fun. Then came having to worry about bills and taking care of my dad.”
Leo’s hand runs up the back of my thigh then stops before he covers my ass.
I can’t stop from pressing against his touch.
“No, not tonight you have a headache.” His voice rumbles in my ear.
I laugh. “Am I not allowed to be the one to say that?”
With a rough hand, he squeezes my ass then pulls me tight against him. “Not when I know it is not the right thing for you. For something you didn’t plan, you did it very well.
”
“The one good thing I had going for me was all the reading I had already been doing my whole life. Most stories follow a blueprint of act one this happens it builds to act two and then it’s all downhill in act three. I got happy and excited when I started to get lost in writing the story, I wasn’t expecting that. It was almost as good as getting lost in another writer’s story entirely. That was when I thought I might have nailed it.”
He nods to the bookcase beside the television. “I get the getting lost in books thing. Did your dad really let you read Stephen King when you were just a kid?”
“It was more like he didn’t tell me not to read it. I’m glad he didn’t. There was something very freeing about reading horror confined to a book. I could close it and walk away, the way I couldn’t with my mom dying in front of me. My parents didn’t shield us, there was no mommy will get better pipe dream.”
Leo’s hand tightens around my ass then slides down the back of my thigh. “Did that make it better or worse, not having any hope?”
“I don’t know. They did what they thought was right, there was no guidebook to follow. My mom thought it was best for my oldest sister, Giulia. Giulia was born with Downs Syndrome, mom was her everything. It was to prepare her for mom not being there. Except it didn’t work...she just kind of gave up after mom died. It wasn’t even a year after that she died.”
“Damn, sweetheart, I’m sorry. All that loss back to back.” He hugs me close.
“Mm, it didn’t stop there though. Valentina, my older sister, the middle one, she changed. As far as she was concerned it was all dad’s fault mom died then Giulia. She got really mean and bitter. Then the week she turned eighteen when I was only fifteen she ran away. My dad, it hit him really hard. For a while, he did the zombie thing just getting through the day. I got a little wild, skipping school, getting drunk, smoking pot, anything to get his attention. It finally worked, dad got super strict and mean.
“Then just when we were getting back to a new kind of normal, he got sick. It was hard. It was a crazy kind of best of times, worst of times thing. Dad, he was trying to cram decades into months for after he was gone. It didn’t end up being quite as short of a time as the doctors said, instead of six months we got two years.
“We spent weeks in the kitchen, with him teaching me how to cook, days in the garage with him teaching me how to change a tire, my oil, my brakes, sometimes I feel like I should buy a car just so I can do everything he taught me.”
Leo hugs me tight, “I cannot imagine how hard it was to take care of someone knowing they were going to die.”
I shrug. “I was just doing what needed to be done. He took care of everyone, he deserved to have someone take care of him in the end. Dad was so annoyed I wasn’t going to school. He made me promise after he died I’d go right to school. He went on and on about the insurance he got after mom died because they didn’t have insurance on her and it was really hard for him afterward. I hated going to school after he died but it gave me some sanity having somewhere to go, instead of trying to find a new job. Considering I lost my waitressing job in the last few weeks before dad died because I kept missing shifts.”
“Fuck, that’s tough.”
I don’t want to talk about me anymore. “Mm, tougher than growing up with a physically and mentally abusive grandmother? It wasn’t easy to get through, I survived. At least I had kindness and love growing up.”
“You do not miss what you never had. I think you said it best.”
“You had your brother for a little while.”
He stiffens. “Yes.” I don’t think he’s going to say anything then he sighs. “David was the only port of sane in my fucked-up life. I lived for the weekends he picked me up, and we did normal things, spoke English ate hamburgers and hot dogs instead of the Greek food Agatha shoved down my throat.