“The difference between me and your father is that I’m not married.”
“You’re not married, and we’ll never marry, Francis. That’s just a fact we have to live with.” An audible sigh slipped past her lips. Justine didn’t want to ruin what was an enjoyable evening with Frank by arguing. “I like you and you’ll always have a special place, not only in my life, but also in my heart.”
The second hand on Frank’s watch made a full revolution before he asked, “Like, or love, Justine?” There was something in his eyes that challenged her; that he was waiting for something not what he wanted but needed to hear.
How could she tell Frank that she didn’t know how to love him because she’d never had a relationship with a man? That she’d been caught up in a web of lies from which she hadn’t been able to escape, even after eighteen years. That she’d never been a widow. That she’d been blackmailed into having a man’s baby he pretended to have conceived with his wife. And that she’d fooled the unscrupulous blackmailer because she was unaware that she’d carried not one, but two of her husband’s babies beneath her heart.
There was a part of her that loved Francis D’Allesandro because of her son. He’d shepherded Kenny through adolescence, allowed him to learn a skill that would be useful if he needed a part-time job as a cook. Frank had taught her son to drive and accompanied Kenny when he took the test to obtain his driver’s license, all the while being a positive role model for a young Black boy growing up in an urban jungle.
“Yes, I do love you, Francis D’Allesandro,” she lied, adding it to the many others she’d told and continued to tell, wondering when and if they would ever stop.
A slow smile spread over his features. “You are an incredibly beautiful liar.”
Justine’s jaw dropped. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you took too long to answer my question.”
She lowered her eyes, staring at the food on her plate. Not only did he have a photographic memory, but he was also exceedingly perceptive. She had taken time to form her thoughts to give him an answer because she feared blurting out the truth that she was a fraud. That she’d managed to fool everyone who had ever interacted with her.
“I do love you, but it’s not what I think of as a romantic love,” she said in a quiet tone. “Perhaps if we’d continued to see each other over the years and had slept together, then it is yes. I love you for being the friend that you are. But more importantly, I love you because of Kenny. You’ve become the father he not only wanted but also needed. And for that I will be eternally grateful.”
Frank stared across the table at the woman who continued to intrigue him. He didn’t want her gratitude. He wanted her to love him. He’d had a lot of experience with women to assess who they were and what they wanted from him within minutes of their introduction. However, it had been different with Justine Russell. It was as if she’d erected an invisible wall around her and wouldn’t allow anyone to get close enough for them to scale it. Not only had he wanted to scale it, but he’d wanted to become a part of her life behind that wall.
He wanted to tell Justine he hadn’t done what he did for Kenny because he wanted to get close to his mother. He truly liked the boy. Kenny was bright, polite, and ambitious. Kenny’s cooking lessons with Gianna D’Allesandro during summer and school recesses had turned him into a very marketable chef. Frank’s cousin who owned the restaurant said Kenny’s cooking skills had surpassed some of the cooks who’d worked with him for years.
What Frank could not tell Justine was that if he’d had a son, he wanted him to be like Kenneth Russell. Over the years, they’d become co-conspirators sharing secrets. When Kenny told him he was ready to lose his virginity, Frank took him to a woman who was the best when it came to deflowering young boys. And he’d felt confident enough to tell Justine’s son about his family’s businesses, knowing he would not repeat what he’d disclosed to him.
Frank had recognized a change in Kenny’s demeanor when he appeared to be withdrawn and monosyllabic during his last year in high school. Once he was able to get him to open up about what was bothering him, Kenny revealed that he’d applied to Howard University in Washington, DC, and had been offered a partial scholarship; however, he was forced to decline, because he didn’t have the money to offset the cost of tuition, books, room, and board. He told Kenny that he was willing to underwrite the cost of his college education as agift to him, but after endless debates, Kenny told him in no uncertain terms that he would not accept a gift he knew he wouldn’t be able to repay.
It was then Frank realized he should not have saidgiftbutendowment. It was also the first time he saw another side of Kenneth Russell’s normal laidback personality when he spewed profanities that because he’d grown up on welfare and lived in the projects, he didn’t want to continue his life accepting the White man’s handouts. Not only were Kenny’s words sharp and hurtful, but Frank felt as if Justine’s son was ungrateful, when he’d done everything he could to improve his life and hopefully secure a future where he didn’t have to live in public housing or raise his kids on welfare.
It took nearly a month for him to approach Kenny and admit that he loved him like a nephew, and as his stand-in uncle, he saw it as his responsibility to help pay for his college education. Kenny appeared remorseful when he apologized and said he was proud to be thought of as his nephew like his blood brother Frankie. It was the last time he’d called him Mr. Dee. He was now Uncle Dee.
Not only was Kenny a masculine version of his mother, but he had also inherited her stubbornness. He was as unflexible and proud as Justine. She was too proud to accept any financial support from him when she’d become a professional typist to earn extra money and made her own clothes.
Francis D’Allesandro wasn’t wealthy, but he had enough resources to purchase a house for Justine and Kenny in a suburb with good schools and low crime rates. He would’ve done it for her while only asking for a small portion of her life.
He smiled at Justine. “You have to know how I feel about you has nothing to do with Kenny,” he said after a long pause.
Justine nodded. “I know that. I knew that the first time you brought Kenny home after he joined your family forSunday dinner and you stared at me. It was much later that I realized it wasn’t so much curiosity as it was lust. You wanted me then, and fast-forward five years, and you still want me.”
Frank angled his face toward her. “True. But the difference is, I can’t act on that lust. Yes, I feel desire, but my body refuses to synchronize with my head.”
“Maybe it’s more mental than physical,” Justine said.
“That’s no longer a priority in my life. Staying healthy is.”
Justine pointed to his plate. “Now that we’ve established how we feel about each other, you should eat something.”
Picking up his knife and fork, Frank smiled. “Yes, Mama.”
Frank was glad he and Justine had scaled that hurdle. She’d agreed that they would see each other and occasionally vacation together. He’d taken a sip of Merlot, and before he could set the wineglass on the table, he went completely still when recognizing the man approaching his table. Pushing back his chair, he stood up.
“Hello, Pasquale.”
“Buona sera, Frankie Delano,” Pasquale Festa said in greeting before staring down at Justine. “I don’t want to disturb you while you’re eating with your lady, but do you think you can set aside time for us to talk about a business venture?”
Frank wanted to tell his cousin that he was disturbing him but decided not to make a scene like the one Pasquale had made what now seemed so long ago, when he’d been banished from attending all and any D’Allesandro family dinners.
