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Authors: Barbara Freethy

Ask Mariah (29 page)

BOOK: Ask Mariah
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He put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Joanna."

Her lips trembled. "Well, at least I know the truth now."

"Did you talk to your mother?"

She drew in a shaky breath, remembering that horrible scene. "She confirmed that I was adopted. She said she didn't tell me, because she didn't want to lose me."

"Has she lost you?" he asked quietly.

"What do you think?"

"I think you're angry."

"Angry?" Her voice rose to a fevered pitch. "I'm way beyond angry. I'm ..." She threw up her hands and looked up at the star-laden sky. "I'm alone," she said hopelessly. "All alone."

"I'm here, Joanna." He put his arms around her stiff body. "We can be together. You and me and Lily and Rose. We can be a family."

She shook her head. "Don't you get it, Michael? If Sophia is my mother, then Angela was my sister. My sister," she repeated. "How can I love my sister's husband?"

His face whitened, his lips drew tight. "Your sister is dead."

"I know. And I never knew her. Every time you spoke of her, I thought she was a terrible person, spoiled and selfish, and I was secretly glad that she was gone, because that meant I had a chance with you. But now, knowing that I had a sister who I will never have the chance to meet -- it kills me, Michael. I can't be with you. I can't be near this family."

"It will take time, but --"

"No, there's no more time. It's over. Everything is over." She pulled out of his embrace and took her keys out of her purse.

"We can work this out, Joanna. Don't make decisions in the heat of the moment."

"Nothing is going to change. I'm always going to be the De Luca that was given away. I'm always going to be Angela's sister." She opened her car door and slid behind the wheel.

"I'm not saying good-bye to you," he told her forcefully. 

She shut the door and locked it, silencing his protests with the roar of the engine. She couldn't stay and listen to him. She couldn't pretend that everything would be all right. It would never be all right.

 

* * *

 

He loved her
. Michael realized it as soon as her car disappeared from view. He loved her more deeply, more passionately, more honestly than he'd ever loved his wife. But it was too late. He'd lost her.

He felt a tug on his coat and looked down to see Rose and Lily, huddling together, their big brown eyes wide and worried.

"It's okay." He pulled them into his arms.

Rose began to cry. Lily clung to his arm, her face buried in his chest. He didn't know what to say to them, how to explain something so unexplainable. At least they now knew why Joanna looked so much like Angela, because they were sisters -- at least half sisters. His stomach twisted into a knot. He had made love to Angela's sister. Sophia and Vincent should have told him who Joanna was the first time he'd mentioned her. They'd known all along that another woman's strong resemblance to Angela could not be a coincidence.

He looked up as Tony approached him.

"Is she gone?"

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not the one whose life was just destroyed."

Tony gave him a long, measured look. "I hope that's true." 

Michael swallowed hard, not wanting to have this conversation with his kids nearby.

"Hey, midgets," Tony said. "Uncle Louis is making ice cream sundaes in the kitchen. What do you think, want one?"

"Okay," Lily said.

Rose hesitated, looking at her father, then her uncle. "Is Joanna coming back, Uncle Tony?

Or is she going away like Mama did?"

The questions twisted like a knife in Michael's gut. Tony looked to him for help, but he had none to give. Joanna was angry and deeply hurt. She was a woman who believed in roots, in traditions, in family, but her roots had been yanked from the ground like errant weeds. He wasn't sure she could survive without them.

Lily and Rose waited, watching, wondering. He had to say something fatherly and reassuring. He couldn't lie. There had been far too many lies told in the name of love.

"Joanna needs time alone right now," he said finally. "She didn't know that your mother was her sister. Something happened when she was born, and Joanna went to live with another family."

Lily and Rose turned back to their uncle. "But why didn't she live with you, Uncle Tony?" Lily asked.

"I don't know," Tony replied with a helpless shrug.

"I don't understand," Rose said. "Does that mean Joanna is not Mama?"

Even though Rose had directed her question at Tony, Michael answered. "No, she's not your mother. She's your aunt -- Aunt Joanna."

Rose's face brightened at that thought. Lily smiled. "Aunt Joanna," they chorused, approving the relationship.

"It works for them," Tony said. "Somehow I don't think the rest of the family will accept it quite so easily. I don't want to go back in there. This whole night has been a disaster."

"Sophia needs you," Michael said. "Frank has already judged her. Angela isn't here to stand up for her. You're the only one who can do that."

"I'm not sure I can. She had an affair and gave my sister away. She broke all the rules."

"And you can't understand that?" he challenged. "You -- who was hell-bent on stealing Helen away from Joey two weeks before her wedding. You can't understand love and passion and recklessness?"

"I can't understand it in my mother."

"She's a woman, too. Let's at least hear what Sophia has to say."

As they entered the kitchen they passed several departing family members. Everyone but the immediate family had decided to go home, to leave Sophia and Vincent and their children to work things out in private.

A few muttered words of support were offered to Tony. Others avoided their eyes. Michael left the girls in the kitchen with their uncle Louis and followed Tony down the hall to the banquet room. The door was open. There were no sounds coming from within, only silence, terrible, awkward silence.

Michael stepped into the room and looked around. Half-filled glasses of champagne decorated the empty tables like lonely soldiers after a long battle. The balloons had begun to drift down from the ceiling, as if realizing the party had lost its spirit.

Frank stood next to his father in front of the makeshift bar. Each held a shot glass of whiskey in his hand. They weren't talking. They were staring at Sophia.

Sophia sat in a chair, flanked by Linda and Elena. She had aged in the past fifteen minutes. The lines around her eyes were deep and grooved. Sadness and defeat emanated from her weary posture.

He had never imagined that he would see the De Lucas like this, torn apart within the ranks.

Frank raised the shot glass to his lips and drank the whiskey, setting the glass down heavily on the table when he was finished. His face was still tight with anger and betrayal, all of it directed at his mother.

"I can't believe you would betray your husband like that," he said.

Sophia took in a breath and let it out. "It was a difficult time for us. Vincent was working long hours -- "

"I don't care how difficult it was," Frank interrupted. "You had no right to go out and have an affair. You were a married woman with children. You took vows before God."

"Hey, ease up," Tony said.

"Ease up?" Frank echoed in angry bewilderment. "Our mother had an affair. She cheated on us with another man. She gave away our sister. How can you stand there and tell me to ease up?"

"I'd like to hear what Mama has to say," Tony replied, glancing at his mother.

"Frank is right," Sophia said. "I was wrong, Tony -- Michael." She gave him an anguished look. "I made a terrible mistake. I put my own needs ahead of my children's, and I have paid for it ever since. I will never forget the moment when that nurse took my baby out of my arms." Her voice caught. "I will never forget how hard it was to say good-bye. My arms ached for hours. All I could think about was my baby. I wondered if she was hungry. My breasts were heavy with milk, but I couldn't feed my child. I couldn't hold her, comfort her, sing to her the way I'd done when I was pregnant. She was gone. My baby was gone." Sophia took a deep breath. "I felt as if someone had just ripped off my arms."

Vincent turned his back on her, resting his elbows on the bar, burying his head in his hands, as if he couldn't bear to look at her, to hear her words of pain and longing.

"That night in the hospital, I couldn't sleep," Sophia continued. "Every few minutes, I would wake up and touch my stomach, waiting for the familiar flutter of her tiny feet against my ribs. But there was no flutter. I would look for the bassinet, for the baby, but the room was empty. It was the longest night of my life -- until now. Now that I've lost her again,"

"Oh, God," Linda said, shaking her head, her eyes filling with tears. "I can't imagine what you must have gone through. To carry a baby and then give her away. How empty you must have felt."

"Maybe she deserved to feel empty, to hurt," Frank said viciously. "God was punishing you."

"God didn't punish me!" Sophia retorted, her pain turning to anger. "Your father did that for him. He was the one who forced me to give Joanna away. He was the one who insisted everything be kept secret -- for family, for honor. He made me promise to keep silent, to never speak a word of my baby, to never contact her, to never see her again. I was wrong, yes. He was wrong, too. He didn't just punish me. He punished an innocent baby."

Vincent swung around, his face lit with fury. "No more!" he shouted.

"You can't stop me from talking," Sophia said. "I made a mistake, but I'll be damned if I'll take all the blame."

Vincent closed his eyes and swayed slightly. Frank put a hand on his arm.

"Papa, are you all right?" Frank asked.

"No."

"Do you want to sit down?"

"No." Vincent opened his eyes and stared at Sophia. "I can't take anymore. I can't." He walked out of the room. After a moment Frank followed.

"Go after Frank," Sophia said to Linda. "He needs you."

"I don't think he wants me." Linda hesitated. "I tried all this time to be like you, never realizing how close I was coming to being you. Frank is driving me away, just like Vincent did to you. Isn't that what happened?"

"Don't make my mistakes, Linda. You and Frank are not Vincent and me. You are not destined to end up as we have."

"I hope not." Linda left the room.

Sophia's attention turned to Tony, to Michael. "Is there anything either of you want to ask me?"

Tony stared into his bottle. Then he lifted his head. "Why did you do it?"

"The affair or the adoption?"

"The affair."

"I was lonely. Vincent left for the restaurant at six o'clock in the morning and came home at eleven o'clock at night. We barely spoke, let alone made love. I had two small children and had gained an extra thirty pounds. I know you won't understand, but I felt ugly and unloved. When I met this man, he talked to me. He paid me compliments. I started to feel pretty again. I acted impulsively and stupidly. I never expected to get pregnant. When it happened, when your father found out, and he gave me an ultimatum -- the baby or the rest of my family."

"Did Angie know?" Tony asked as he stared intently at his beer bottle.

"No one knew, except your father and Elena." She glanced up at her sister, who replied by squeezing her shoulder. "Elena stayed with me that night in the hospital. She held my hand through the long hours of labor and cried with me when Joanna was born. Vincent stayed home with you and Frank."

"I don't remember anything about it."

"You were only three years old. Frank was seven. Frankie knew I was pregnant. He used to sit with me and put his hand on my stomach. That's why we had to tell him the baby died. That's what we told everyone."

"I don't remember anyone mentioning it."

"Because they didn't want to remind me of the pain. When I had Angela, it was all but forgotten."

"And what was Angela? Some kind of consolation prize?"

"Don't ever say that," Sophia said sharply. "I loved Angela. She was my daughter. She didn't replace the one I lost. I never expected her to."

"That's the way you treated her," Tony said. "You and Papa spoiled her rotten. You acted as if she were a gift from God."

"I thought she was, until God took her back. Sometimes I think that was my ultimate punishment. He allowed me to love another child, then snatched her away to remind me of the horrible thing I had done."

"Yeah, well, too bad he didn't take me. It would have made everyone a hell of a lot less unhappy," Tony said.

"Tony." Michael turned instinctively to his friend, but there was nothing he could say to ease the pain or anger in Tony's eyes.

"You had me in your life," Tony said bitterly. "Maybe Papa was ignoring you, but what about me and Frank.  Why weren't we enough to keep you happy?"

"You were small children," she said helplessly.  "It wasn't about you."

BOOK: Ask Mariah
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