My heart sinks when I see the sad expression on Aunt Sofia’s face as she watches him walk away before she turns to me. She looks at the envelope, then covers my hand with hers, giving it a gentle pat.
“He has to make some decisions about his father.”
I look back down. New York State Penitentiary? What? His father? I turn and look in the direction he went, then back to Sofia. “He’s never said anything.”
She nods. “I know how stubborn he is at letting people in. So I figured he hadn’t told you about his father. Are you aware that you’re the only person he’s ever brought to visit? I take that back… He’s brought Jaxon by a few times, so I should say you’re the only person he’s fucking that he has ever brought by.”
“Aunt Sofia!” I laugh.
“What? Again it’s true. Kids these days alwayswanna dance around it. If I say fucking, you know exactly what I mean. No confusion. Si?”
I nod my head. This woman is amazing. If I believed in spirit animals, she’d totally be mine.
“Dom doesn’t talk about his father. But I think with you it’s going to be different.”
“I don’t know. He would’ve said something if he’d wanted to tell me.”
She pushes the envelope toward me. “And he didn’t have to set this here. Sometimes we need to see the signs.”
I look back in the direction he went, like it’s gonna show me a portal with all the answers, or… I read the sign. “Will you excuse me?” I ask.
“Of course.” She pats my hand. “Go, I’ll handle the dishes.”
I make my way down a small hallway until I hear the sound of running water as I pass the first door on the right. I give a soft knock, feeling hesitant. What if he doesn’t want to talk to me? Maybe he wants to be left alone. Some people would prefer that.
The water stops, and the knob twists before the door opens slowly. Dom stands there, looking more wrecked than I’ve ever seen him. His face is blotchy, and I can tell he was just splashing some water on it.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, of course,” he says, but doesn’t look at me. I crowd him, moving us further into the bathroom.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
Dom closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I don’t know where to start.”
“How about if I ask a question? Will that help?”
He nods.
“Who’s in the New York State Penitentiary?”
“My father.”
I know this from what Sofia said, but the admission still catches me off guard. He says the name with such disdain. He turns and grips the counter, his whole body tense.
“Why did they send you a letter?” I ask.
He looks at me through the mirror. “You don’t wanna know why he’s in there?”
“He must be locked up for a reason. But that’s not what’s bothering you. It’s what’s in that letter.”Sometimes I sound wiser than I really am.
I move, squeezing myself between him and the sink, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “What’s in the letter, Dom?”
His eyes scan mine, and I see a moment of hesitation before he finally tells me. “My father is eligible for parole, and his attorneys want my statement. To show what a great father he is, that he’s a reformed citizen who can do good on the outside.”
“Judging by your tone, I’m going to guess that’s not the case.”
He lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “Far from it.”
