Beautiful Life: The Carpino Series Read online

  We left the doctor’s office and Tony drove straight to the mall. Yes the mall, on the day after Thanksgiving, the busiest shopping day of the year. After driving around forever, he found a parking spot and then we walked forever to get to the mall since it’s the busiest shopping day of the year.

  Holding my old good hand tight not letting me shake him off, he led me straight to the food court and asked me what I wanted to eat. I reminded him I just told him I wasn’t hungry, but he said we were at the mall, we had to eat mall food. I told him to help himself, I was fine. He stood there staring at me for about an hour (slight exaggeration), before he took my hand, a-gain, dragging me to Auntie Anne’s and ordered a pretzel with drinks. He then drug me to the popcorn store where he ordered us both popcorn and him nachos. Balancing all of this junk food in our arms, he drug me one more time to the candy store where he scooped our candy out of the candy bins and while at the register, he threw in two Ring Pops. At that time, like a professional bench spotter, he spotted us a place to sit by the fountains. Dragging me to our bench, he sat me down and arranged our junk food before plopping down next to me. By the way, he didn’t say a word to me through this strange Junk Food Shopping Spree.

  “Do you really like mall food?” I ask.

  He turns to me as much as he can without disrupting the delicate balancing act of junk food. My eyes go straight to his hair, dark brown with those unruly wavy locks dipping into his forehead again. It looks soft and perfectly imperfect.

  He pulls my attention away from his lush hair as he explains, “It’s not about the mall food but when you’re at the mall, you have to eat mall food. It’s a rule. You weren’t going to tell me what you wanted, I had to take the liberty and make some choices for you. Next time you should speak up, there’s good stuff here. Remember, I have three sisters, a mother, not to mention Gabby. She’s such the queen of shopping, she created a profession out of it. I was basically raised at the mall until I was old enough to stay home by myself. But we’re here to people watch. There are stories to be told, Leigh. You just need to loosen up, sit back, relax and let the mall food inspire you.”

  I sit here and stare back at him as he digs into his Hot Tamales. He can’t be serious.

  “I don’t understand,” I say.

  “Pay attention. Look around. Pick someone and tell a story about them,” he explains.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  I look around as I dunk my pretzel into icing. There are some really crazy looking people at the mall. I guess I should make an effort. He’s been really nice and he did buy me all this junk food. Although, I don’t like cheese popcorn because it makes my fingers yellow, so I’m thinking about asking him to trade because I love caramel popcorn.

  “Okay,” I start. “See that old lady over there? Her name is Edith and she’s shopping for her five grandchildren.”

  Tony’s eyes slide to me as he raises one eyebrow while kind of frowning at the same time.

  “What?” I ask, now frustrated with him.

  “That’s the most boring mall story I’ve ever heard. You’re not trying very hard.”

  “Did they teach you this in law school?” I ask, frowning back at him. “Fine. You go since you’re the expert.”

  He sighs and says, “All right, I’ll show you how it’s done.” He looks around for inspiration and I can tell by the look on his face he’s found his target.

  “You see that middle aged couple over there? That’s Bernie and Louise McShickelton. Louise is a hoarder, to such an extent that Bernie has sent in multiple applications to those hoarder reality shows but they’ve always been turned down. Not only that, but she shops so she can hoard. She’s such a hoarder, he can’t support her hoarding habits any longer as a golf pro, so he built a meth lab in the cart barn at the country club where he works. He cooks meth when he’s not giving golf lessons. He calls his new business McShickelton Meth, but his double life is stressing him out. That’s why he’s losing his hair.” He looks back to me as he dips another chip into fake cheese and says, “That’s how you people watch at the mall.”

  A giggle erupts from my chest and I can’t stop smiling. His eyes immediately go soft as his gentle look sweeps my face. He brought me to the mall to make me think of something else today and I can tell by the look on his face, he’s feeling success. He smiles back at me while I bite my lip because I can’t stop grinning from thinking about the meth lab cooking golf pro.

  “I think I get it,” I say.

  “Good, gem,” he answers quietly. Smiling at me, he asks, “You wanna to give it another go?”

  “Sure,” I answer and sit back to take a deep breath. But first I reach over Tony to grab a handful of caramel popcorn. As I munch on my popcorn smiling, I look for my target and try my best. I don’t want to suck at people watching.

  *****

  “I think you won. The newlywed couple who had sex in the Gap dressing room that got caught and had to be escorted out by the mall cop but snuck back in was pretty funny. I think that might have really happened, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other,” I say as we walk back to Tony’s car.

  “You weren’t so bad yourself,” he returns as he opens my door for me. “The woman who was a past national ping pong champion that went crazy from years of ping pong training and snuck out of the insane asylum just to play ping pong in the sporting goods store was pretty realistic. She looked like she had a long day, I’m pretty sure she was strung out on sales for real.”

  As I am buckling up, my phone rings. “Hey, Paige,” I answer.

  “Hey yourself. Look, we never did junk food and a movie marathon, how about tonight? I’ll bring the junk food and Gabby’s got a million movies to choose from. I know she and Jude are in Colorado, we can hang out and you won’t have to be by yourself. How about it?”

  Honestly. The Carpinos are the nicest people ever.

  “That’s Paige?” Tony asks.

  “Yeah,” I answer, back to Tony.

  “Is that my brother? What are you doing with him?” Paige asks.

  “We’re leaving the mall,” I answer, back to Paige.

  “Tony hates the mall,” she states.

  “What does she want?” Tony interrupts again.

  “She wants to do junk food and movies,” I answer, back to Tony.

  “Did you eat mall food?” Paige asks further.

  “Well, yeah,” I answer, back to Paige.

  “Tell her only if she makes more pumpkin cookies,” Tony says.

  “Tell him I don’t have time to make pumpkin cookies, the batter has to chill,” Paige answers Tony.

  “Should I let you two speak to one another?” I ask both of them simultaneously.

  “NO!” they both say ardently and simultaneously.

  “Okay,” I sigh. “Paige, movies sound good, but I’m not hungry. I’ve had enough junk food to last a year. Tony will drop me off at Gabby’s, we should be there soon.”

  “Give me the phone,” Tony says with his hand out to me.

  I frown as I hear Paige groan at her brother’s request, “Here, Tony changed his mind. He wants to talk to you.”

  Tony takes the phone as he navigates our way through the crazy after Thanksgiving traffic, “I’m not dropping her off. I’m staying for movies, bring whatever junk food you had planned. And I’ll pay you forty dollars for more pumpkin cookies, but you have to make them tomorrow.” He pauses and then adds frustratingly so, “Fine. Fifty. But I want the whole batch.”

  And then, just like that, he hangs up on his sister without saying goodbye.

  “Tony, I can’t eat more junk food and I can’t believe you’re going to pay her for pumpkin cookies.”

  “Paige’s idea of junk food isn’t really junk food. Trust me on this. You’ll thank me later.”

  “All right, but you really can drop me off. You don’t need to stay. You’ve already spent a good chunk of your day with me and it’s your day off,” I say, trying to let him o
ff the hook.

  “I could watch a movie,” he answers.

  “But I feel bad. You all don’t need to babysit me. Gabby has an alarm, I’ll be fine.”

  Tony reaches out to grab my hand and firmly but gently, threads our fingers. “Gem, I said I could watch a movie,” he repeats, softly this time.

  Fine. If he doesn’t have anything better to do than torture me, so be it. I pull on my hand only to feel his grip harden, holding it to the console while throwing me a soft smile. I sigh, lean back in my seat and watch the traffic move as we make our way back to Gabby’s house for more junk food and a movie marathon.

  All the while letting Tony hold my hand.

  *****

  I can’t move.

  For two reasons.

  One: I’m stuffed. Tony was right, Paige’s junk food isn’t normal junk food. She made a layered hummus dip with pita chips, miniature baked ham and cheese buttery biscuit sandwiches and a jalapeno jelly she made herself and dumped it over cream cheese to spread on crackers. She told me she considers it junk food because it lacks fruits and vegetables. I guess she didn’t consider the chopped tomatoes, cucumbers and onions on the layered hummus dip, but I wasn’t going to be the one to point the nutritional value of her junk food.

  And two: I started out on one end of Gabby’s big sectional snuggled in with a toss pillow at the beginning of our movie marathon. Paige stretched out on the other end. That left the middle for Tony. But instead of taking the middle like a normal person would have done, he decided to torture me further and came straight to me picking up my legs to plop himself down where he tucked his hip right into my bottom. Then he slouched in his seat to prop his long legs on the coffee table with my legs draped over him. I immediately tried to sit up and yank my legs away, but he held on tight not allowing me to move. “Tony!” I yelled. “Leigh,” he drawled back, sort of lazy-like. I glared at him. He smiled back at me. I looked over at Paige who was watching the entire exchange while raising an eyebrow at me in question. I gave my head a tiny shake and sighed. Then I turned to the TV and tried to get as comfortable as I could, which really wasn’t hard since it was pretty comfortable stretched out with my legs draped over his lap. It was even more comfortable when he would randomly run his hands over my legs and feet, a touch so light but significant, I felt it down to my bones.

  Pure torture.

  But I decided not to think about that at the moment.

  This was all after the big decision of what to watch. Watching Tony and Paige duke it out over our viewing selection was interesting to say the least. I’ve never had much of an adult relationship with my sister and we never got along as kids, degenerating into a miserable relationship as teenagers. It all started with Paige going through Gabby’s collection of eighties movies she collected during her eighties phase. Paige insisted we watch Breakfast Club. Tony said he was absolutely not watching a Brat Pack movie and suggested the Bourne Trilogy. Paige threw me under the bus and said there was no way I would want to watch anything violent. I mean, really. Everyone knows Jason Bourne is the bomb, but I didn’t get to express this because Paige suggested the entire Star Wars collection to which Tony said, “No fucking way. You recite every line out loud and it’s obnoxious. Just because you’re the size of Yoda doesn’t make you a Jedi and the master of all things Star Wars.”

  Turning back to study the library of movies, Paige all of a sudden screams and says, “Sex in the City! Gabby has the whole series, if we start tonight, I bet we can finish by Christmas. Gabby will be pissed we started without her, but she’ll just have to deal with it.”

  “I’m not watching that shit, Paige,” Tony replies, as Paige starts putting in the first disc.

  Paige turns around, puts her hand on her hip and with attitude, a-gain, throws me under the bus with, “But it’s Leigh’s favorite. Ask her. It will make her happy.”

  Tony turns to me, only to raise his eyebrows in question. My only answer was to tip my head to the side while shrugging my shoulders because Sex in the City is absolutely my favorite. Those four women are amazing (not to mention a lot naughty) and I wish I could have just a teensy-weensy bit of their amazingness. Don’t even get me started on their clothes. But what I say is, “I like Jason Bourne, too.”

  Tony grins at me and turns back to Paige to say, “Put it in.”

  “Like I needed your permission,” Paige mutters under her breath, but loud enough for us all to hear.

  I breathe a sigh of relief, because really, I didn’t want to see what Paige would have done if he ex-nayed Sex in the City.

  After we finally settled in with Paige’s non-junk-food-junk-food with Tony torturing my legs and feet, I got lost in the dramas and humor of four amazing characters. In the middle of the fourth episode, comfort and food took over and I drifted off. I vaguely hear Paige whispering a goodbye and leaving. That’s when I feel Tony’s hand gently on my neck and his lips at my ear whispering, “Sweetheart. Get up and go to bed.”

  I blink my eyes open to see Tony’s face close to mine. Somehow my bottom is tucked in even tighter to his side and I’m lying in an “S” with my legs still draped over him, but now he’s leaning over me. He somehow stands up, pulling me with him and before I know it in my semi-consciousness, Tony pulls me into his arms. With one around my lower back, the other hand goes into my hair and his lips come to my forehead. My arms are squished between us, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel how amazing his big strong arms feel wrapped around me.

  My fingers grip his shirt as he kisses my forehead whispering there, “Go to bed, Leigh. I’ll let the dog out and lock up the house.”

  I lift my head and look into his almost back eyes. I need to let him know what today has meant to me. Smiling and laughing on a day that should have been long and depressing from recent terrible memories is something I hadn’t expected. He gave me that, even though I can’t let myself think about why he gave me that. I don’t need another man in my life now, maybe never. I know I’m being selfish letting Tony torture me in all his wonderful ways but I can’t make him stop. I’m too weak, just like I was too weak to leave Preston after years of abuse. I’m one hundred percent sure I would have gone back to Preston had Gabby not personally removed me from my living hell. I used to think of myself as a strong person, but not anymore. As much as I know I should push Tony away I can’t. It feels too good right now when there’s nothing good in my life to feel.

  I look into his deep dark eyes with his lush hair falling to his forehead where he’s looking back down at me and I say, “Thank you for today, Tony.” I might be weak but I’m not stupid. I know I need to get out of his arms, no matter how wonderful they feel and add, “Can you set the alarm when you leave?”

  Tony looks down at me a beat and states, “I’ll set the alarm. Go to bed.” He kisses my forehead one more time and letting me go, gives me a nudge toward my room. I get ready for bed, hear the beeps of the alarm as Mia finds me and jumps up to cuddle in for the night. I tuck in as tight as I can, thinking of nothing but the caress I feel in my soul when Tony touches me gently in any way. I’ve never felt a touch like it in my life. Ever. So I hang on to the feel of his caress on my soul as I start to drift off again, my body needing sleep but my mind dreading it knowing what it will likely bring.

  *****

  I jerk awake on the sofa, a noise waking me from somewhere in the house. Grabbing my phone off the coffee table, I see it’s a bit after three in the morning. I think it’s coming from Leigh’s room so I throw off my blanket to go to her. With the hall light on, I crack the door to see her curled up, jerking and whimpering, but not quite crying.

  I go to the side of her bed, lightly put my hand to her arm and whisper her name to try and wake her up, “Leigh?”

  Her whole body wracks with shock at my touch and she pulls away shrieking, “Stop! No, stop!”

  Chapter 4 - Drink It In

  Shit. I lean away from her with my palms out to show her I’m not going to touch her.

 
; “It’s me,” I whisper. She’s pressed up against the headboard now, breathing hard trying to get her bearings with Mia jumping around the bed trying to get in her face. “Sweetheart, you were dreaming. You’re okay.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whimpers through labored breaths. Her emerald eyes come to mine and with realization she gives her head a little shake, asking, “What are you doing here?”

  “I didn’t want you to be by yourself, I slept on the sofa,” I inch toward her a little. “Are you okay?”

  “You heard me?” she asks frowning.

  “Gem, you were almost crying in your sleep. Yeah, I heard you.”

  “Shit,” she mutters.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” she says. Looking up at me she asks again, “Why did you stay?”

  Taking a chance since I can tell she’s getting a handle on it, I move even closer where our hips are touching and put my hands up to cup her face. Ignoring her question, I ask softly, “What were you dreaming about?”

  She jerks slightly then closes her eyes at my touch. Shaking her head a bit she lies, “Nothing.”

  Raising my voice to a normal level I respond, “That was not nothing.”

  Looking up at me, she lies again, “I don’t even remember.”

  I narrow my eyes at her, “You should talk about it.”

  “I want to go back to sleep.”

  I sigh, wanting to push her but don’t know what’s safe at this point. I try pushing another way, “Do you want me to stay with you? I’ll sit here until you go to sleep.”

  “What? No!” she lets out quickly. “Sometimes I…well…it can take a while to go back to sleep. You should go back to the sofa. Really you should go home, I’m fine.”

  “Sweetheart, I’m not going home. Lay down, I’ll sit here until you go back to sleep.”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  Mia is still jumping around the bed. I work with what I have and say with finality, “Leigh. You’re freaking the dog out. Lay down.”

  Leigh frowns at me through the dim light from the hallway, but then, as if she realizes I’m here for the first time she drags her eyes over my bare chest and down to my jeans. Then slowly, her gaze comes back up to my face but not my eyes, more like she’s just taking me in.