#4—Chapter 12
A Family Affair Part 1
I was in a dilemma. Already having faced many life and death situations in my young nineteen years of life on this earth, nothing should faze me, but when it came to this particular topic, my mind was always in a boggle. And that specific topic was deciding on what to cook for dinner.
But this wasn’t just some normal everyday dinner. This was a very special dinner where my one and only sister, who Giovanni had just rescued yesterday, would be having with us. Right now, she was resting in her room.
Amelia had changed a lot. Every time when I tried to talk to her, she would shut me out. I hadn’t a clue what that douchebag Lorenzo did to her, but she sure wasn’t herself. Especially that episode from this morning when she was crying her eyes out and then she just shut me out. That was really strange. So I made it my mission to cheer her up tonight. And there’s nothing better than to cook her a good dinner, like those good old days when I cooked her favorite dish, fried rice.
But today really proved to be a conundrum because as soon as I opened the fridge door, there was nothing but green vegetables. And no rice. Not to mention any protein. I couldn’t make fried rice with no protein. The boys needed protein; and Amelia needed to be plumped up. She was far too skinny. And I needed my eggs. Chicken eggs. That was the most basic ingredient for a good chicken fried rice.
Now, what else do I need?
I was standing there with the fridge door open, staring in a trance, when Bobby’s booming voice startled me awake, “Jenny!”
“Ahhh. What the bleeping bleep bleep,” I screeched in surprised.
“Hahaha. I see our foul words are rubbing off you.” Bobby jabbed me in the elbow.
“Yeah, that’s the result of living with you guys twenty-four hours a day and listening to you guys talking in that kind of language. I can’t help but pick it up through osmosis.”
“So when are you gonna stop staring at the fridge?”
“When I decide what other ingredients we need for the fried rice,” I said, my eyes still glued to the fridge.
“Ohhh, we are having fried rice for dinner?” Bobby asked excitedly. If it was one thing that could make him happy, that would have to be food. Lots and lots of food. Especially if it was Asian food, too. He’d be over the moon.
“Yep. You like fried rice, Bobby? I’m planning to make some because my sister loves it.”
“Sounds awesome.”
“Yeah, except we don’t have all the ingredients.”
“Text Jonny or Finnie. They are both out collecting loan repayments. I’m sure they could pick it up on the way back.”
“Good idea. Thanks for the suggestion. I was going to go buy groceries myself, but after that kidnapping incident, I think it’s wise if I lay low for a bit.”
“You’re very smart, Jenny. That’s why Boss loves and trusts you,” Bobby said, and my face just blushed a raspberry red. I really did hope Giovanni loved me to bits because I was smart.
“Oh, shit!” Bobby yelped as soon as he looked at his watch. “I’ve been here for almost fifteen minutes. Boss wants me to find that loan document, but I got sidetracked.”
“Just tell him you’re chatting with me. So fried rice it is, then?”All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.
“Yep.”
“Superb. You go on up.” I ushered Bobby out of the kitchen. “I’ll just stare at the fridge for a bit longer. Need to figure out more ingredients.”
“You do that. Make sure you don’t freeze to death.”
“I won’t.”
After Bobby left, I messaged Jonny for him and Finnie to get those ingredients, when the doorbell jerked me out of my task. I quickly finished the message and sprinted to the gate, glad to have something to do while waiting for the groceries to arrive.
“Oh, a delivery,” I muttered to myself as soon as I got near the gate. I greeted the delivery man. “Hello, sir.”
“Oh, hello, miss.” The delivery man was startled, probably surprised by how I had addressed him. He was a true professional though, only taking less than three seconds to compose himself. “Please sign here.”
He handed me his tablet, and I sprawled my signature on it. Maybe I should learn how to sign properly. From this angle, my signature resembled a scribble, but the kind delivery man didn’t seem to notice it. He smiled at me and handed me a bunch of flowers.
“Thank you,” I said, watching him leave before making my way back into the house.
Flowers. I wonder who they’re for.
I got into the kitchen and examined the bouquet. I wonder whose they’re from.
A sudden thought hit me square in the face.
Crap! Don’t tell me I have a secret admirer. Shit! If Giovanni found out, I’d be in deep shit.
Wait! Why did I think that? I wasn’t having an affair behind his back. I was truly devoted to him. There was no one else in my life. Surely, I had no need to panic.
I checked the bouquet, looking for clues as to who it might be from, and sure enough, I found an envelope, wedged in between the flowers. Sealed within that envelope felt like a card. I turned the envelope over for closer inspection. There was only one line written on it.
Happy Birthday, Giovanni.
Love, Mom.
My world toppled, and I crashed onto the sofa from behind.
Giovanni. My Gio has a mother?
Well, that’s common knowledge, since he couldn’t have been born out of a rock, but still…
How come I didn’t know Gio has a mother? He’d never mentioned it before. And on top of that, his birthday was today? I thought his birthday wasn’t due yet. Well, it would be in the next few weeks, but certainly not today.
I whipped my mobile phone out of my pocket and speed-dialed the person who I knew would know the answer. He picked up on the first ring.
“Dawson, I need your help,” I shouted into the phone.
“Jenny. What’s up? How’s Giovanni? Is he still black and blue? And your sister?”
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t call him up to talk about them. “Yes, they are fine. Giovanni is fine. He’s upstairs working. And Amelia is resting, probably having an afternoon nap.”
“That’s good. Really good. So, what do you need my help with? I’m at your service.”
I got straight to the point. “Dawson, is today Giovanni’s birthday?” There was silence at the other end of the line. I probed him. “Dawson. Is it?”
Instead of answering my question, he asked me back, “How do you know?”
It should be a question that any girlfriend or lover could answer off the bat. I mean, we were lovers for crying out loud. We were intimate. These kinds of things, one should know during the dating phase. But our love didn’t really start off with dates and so on. I was his maid. And now I suddenly realized that I didn’t know anything about his private life. Giovanni had never mentioned any of those things. Things like birthdays and his parents, I hadn’t a clue. The only way I’d found out about his birthday was because I had to bribe the information out of his underlings. So did the guys assume the wrong date, too? Or was this bouquet of flowers a prank from someone who claimed to be his mother?
“I got a bouquet of flowers delivered just a few minutes ago. The card says they’re from his mom,” I explained to Dawson.
Me uttering the word mom had Dawson sucking in his breath, and I knew right away that I’d hit a sensitive topic.
“Does Gio have a mother?” I asked again. “No. What I mean is, is she still alive?”
“Ummm…” Dawson didn’t know how to respond. He was making all these weird noises, like he was clearing his throat or something. After hesitating a bit more, he finally spoke. “If I say yes, do you think Giovanni would kill me?”
And that was all the answer I needed to hear. The startling truth hit me square in the face. This card really was from his mother.
This sucked. I thought I knew everything about my boyfriend, but clearly this was not the case. I knew absolutely nothing about him. Apart from his life as a mafia and a businessman, I’d no clue about him at all. Like his real parents for example, or his real birthday, or any other special events in his life.
I brought my feet up on the couch and huddled my legs, biting my fingernail to ease that ache in my heart.
The past we’d shared when we were younger, I’d forgotten due to my accident. We finally met again under unusual circumstances; I became his maid. But I was already eighteen. There was already a fourteen-year gap where I had absolutely no idea what happened in Giovanni’s life. On top of that, I still was unsure whether I was really his one and only Jennifer.
Was I not important to him? Was that why he never shared any memories of his past with me?
The thought pained me. I wished he’d open himself up to me. I wished he’d share his joy and all his past memories with me. I wanted to know.
“Jenny. Can I give you a word of advice?” Dawson’s voice geared me back to reality.
“Yes, Dawson.”
“These kinds of topics. It’s best to talk to him about it yourself. I’m sure there must be a reason why he doesn’t talk about it to you.”
Dawson was right. These topics were meant to be discussed with one’s lover, but I couldn’t help feeling envious of everyone around him. Dawson, Justin, Bobby, Finnie, Heath, and Jonny. Heck, even Lorenzo. Everyone who had a past with Giovanni seemed to know almost everything about him. Except for me.
I picked up the bouquet and took to the stairs, approaching his office at the first door down. I knocked, then waited to be called in. Once I heard Giovanni’s voice, I poked my head through. “Gio. Are you free? Can I talk to you for a sec-” There were some businessmen in blue suits sitting around the table. They were busy negotiating something. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt. We can talk after dinner.”
I was about to duck my head out when Giovanni ushered me inside.
“No, Jay. Come on in,” he said in the sweetest tone I’d heard. There was so much love and sincerity in that voice, if I had wings I’d float right onto his lap and kiss him senseless. But his tone completely changed the second he eyed everyone else in the room. “Everyone. Get out.”
“But Boss, we are in the middle of our negotiation,” Bobby said.
“I said we will resume later,” Giovanni yelled. “Now get out. All of you.”
I waited for everyone to leave, seeing Bobby and mouthing a sorry in his direction. He mouthed back, “No problem. We’re just glad to get a break.” And they were off, downstairs, properly making themselves cups of coffee. I headed inside.
“Ahh, Jay. Come here. Come sit on my lap. What’s the problem? You don’t look too happy. Ahhh. Are those flowers for me?” He asked, his eyes brightening up as soon as he saw the bouquet in my hand.
“Ummm. Yes. Actually, they are,” I said, giving him the flowers.
“Oh, how do you know my favorite flowers are roses?” he said, bringing the roses to his nose, taking in a few wafts of the scent while he stared intensely at me.
I’d seen that look before. He wanted to fuck me. And before I knew it, he jerked me down and had me in his lap, winding his strong arms around me in a fierce hug.
“Thank you, Jay. My beloved. My sweet bunny.” And he kissed me on my nose, my cheeks, and my mouth. His eyes sparkled with so much love, I hated to break the truth to him.
“The bouquet is from your mom.”