“Yeah.”
“How?”
“Jake’s actual name is Elwood DeRiccio. Ricky’s name is Fabrizio DeRiccio. Apparently the family has a problem giving their sons normal-sounding names.”
“Well, I kind of like Fabrizio—”
Vivien nearly snarled at Helga, who lifted her glass to drink quickly—probably to hide a smirk. “That’s not helping.”
“Elwood? But you call him Jake? I don’t—Oh, I do get it.” Helga chuckled. “Elwood and Jake Blues—the Blues Brothers. Yeah, if I had to pick a name, it would be Jake instead of Elwood. ‘We’re on a mission from God!’” She giggled a little. Apparently, the wine was going to her head. It was a good thing Helga could walk home, orshe’dbe the one texting for a ride from a cop friend.
“I guess they started calling him Jake in middle school when he unequivocally told his friends and parents he wouldn’t answer to Elwood. I can’t blame him. Can you imagine the nicknames they would have come up with in middle school?”
“Well, at least his friends knew their pop culture,” Helga said, still smirking behind her glass.
“You’re still not helping.”
“Right.” Helga snapped her expression back into a sober one. “So your Jake—the infamous lying, cheating dickwad—is Ricky’s son,” Helga mused aloud. “Bummer. He’s really hot. And—because I’m not sexist or overly preoccupied with looks—he also seems like a nice, solid guy. I’ve met him a few times, just briefly. Once there was a little car crash in town and he happened to be nearby. He was really calming, helping a pregnant woman who was involved in the accident—”
“He’s a doctor. He’s supposed to do that kind of stuff,” Vivien growled. Then sighed. She was an adult. She could be more magnanimous. “Yes, he’s really nice. And can be super sweet. And charming. And then he turns into a—”
The pizza arrived at that moment, and Vivien became wholly distracted by how hungry she was and how amazing the pie looked—and smelled. Topped with smoked mozz, caramelized onions, and sausage, along with a spicy tomato sauce, the Wise Guy was one of Trib’s most popular pizzas.
But Helga wasn’t quite as easily distracted from things Vivien would rather left undiscussed. Probably the cop in her. “I think it really bites that you have to deal with Jake showing up while you’re trying to get the theater open. I know how much he hurt you.” But instead of staying on that topic, Helga went down another path she had no idea was even worse. “So…you’re really not going to be onstage for the show?”
“No.” Vivien’s response was short and sharp.
Helga did that bird thing she did where she tilted her head and looked at Vivien with a penetrating expression, as if her friend was a worm Helga was about to drag, kicking and screaming, stretching and undulating, from the soil.
Maybe the wine was going to Vivien’s head too.
“You’d be perfect to play Elaine Harper. You’re a local celebrity, it’s your theater, named after your sister… It seems so obvious you should be in the inaugural production. Why not?” The humor that had been dancing in Helga’s eyes was gone, and Vivien suddenly felt as if she were in an interrogation room with the steely-eyed cop.
She started to respond, but suddenly, horribly, her throat closed up and a thick lump settled there. Her eyes stung. The words wouldn’t come. She shook her head soundlessly and looked away.
“All right. I’m sorry for asking.” Helga pressed a comforting hand over Vivien’s. “I just want you to know I’m here if you want to talk.Whenyou want to talk.”
Vivien nodded quickly, then turned her attention to carefully cutting off the tip of her piece of pizza.
It was silly. She was a fool. She had to get over the memories and move on. Not just Jake—not even mostly Jake.
But not today.
Not now.
Chapter Five
“Pop!What thehellare you doing up there?” Jake stumbled from his Lexus and bolted toward the house, heart surging into his throat. “Get the hell down from there!”
“You watch your tongue, young man,” snapped his seventy-seven-year-old father,who was crawling along the roof of his house.
A ladder that had seen far better days was leaning drunkenly against the gutter.
“Pop!” Jake grabbed the ladder with both hands—which was at least more helpful than clutching his head and tearing his hair out; something he’d wanted to do more often than not lately when it came to his father—and looked up in trepidation as hishardheaded, idioticremaining parent blithely continued his task of crawling along the edge of the roof and clearing out the gutter. The ladder shifted a little in Jake’s grip, indicating hownotstable it had been when his pop had ascended it and climbed onto the freakingroof.
Thank God I came by.A rush of cold sweat erupted over him as he imagined what might have happened if he hadn’t…
Pine needles, leaves, and other debris tumbled to the ground as Fabrizio DeRiccio stubbornly ignored him and inched along, tossing the detritus from the gutter like he was sowing seed.
