Time seems to have slowed down. A month has gone by since the disastrous date, every minute and second logged with no word from him. But I should have known. I was the one who left, not him. The leaves have turned different shades of red and orange, most of which are on the ground now. The chilled air heralds the coming winter, summer a thing of the past. Thanksgiving is fast approaching.
Dante and I are working, like we do every Thanksgiving. It’s our Thanksgiving gift to our friends and co-workers. They get to spend the holiday with their family while we work. We celebrate Thanksgiving on the anniversary date of living on our own instead of the actual day. Today is the day we became thankful for living and escaping the Johnson’s home with minimal damage.
The short time Daniel an I spent together felt much longer than it was. Time can be tricky that way when you meet someone you know is right for you deep down. If it wasn’t for Dante, I would doubt my own sanity regarding Daniel’s actual existence. He was too good to be true. Daniel seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth.
On Halloween, Dante and I attended a great costume party at one of friend’s home. It was great to chill out with friends. Even though we were surrounded mostly by friends, I still felt like something was missing. I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me. There were friends of friends that I didn’t know, but no one seemed interested enough to talk to me. At the endo of the night, I was crushed when Daniel never showed. Honestly, though, how would he? He never knew about the party.
Dante dressed like Cher, earning him first prize. It was a total windfall for us. Somewhere along the way we mismanaged our money, something we haven’t done in years. We’re in such desperate need of it that we’ve been talking about him entering the ring again, but at what expense. A few years ago, we were in desperate for money and Dante started working a second job as a janitor of sorts at the local boxing ring.
One of the boxers noticed him one night and asked him to spar. The guy was much bigger than him, but Dante held his own with speed and agility, impressing the other boxes one by one. He was bringing home more money than we could have hoped for. He never told me he was boxing until the last fight. He was introduced to an underground boxing arena. The ring was raided by the police during his last fight. He barely escaped arrest. He hasn’t fought since then. I think he feared leaving me alone more than being arrested.
Now when we need money he always falls back to the idea of fighting. He won’t listen to my foreboding feelings this time. I was able to convince him for more time a month ago. He agreed to talk about it at the end of the month and see where we stand financially. That time has come. I fear what we have to do and the toll it will take on Dante.
We have been cooking for Thanksgiving Day meal all day and all the hard work has paid off. The coffee table is set and we just finished placing the food on the table. The turkey is a nice golden brown and the gravy smells delicious. Dante made his mother’s stuffing, which she taught him a few days before her death. It amazes me that he can celebrate today when he still feels sorrow for her loss.
Sitting down I start the conversation with, “So I’ll start this year with what I’m thankful for.”
Dante nods.
“Okay, I am thankful for the day you walked into the Johnson’s house. You changed my life that day. I am thankful every single day for you and the home we have built together.”
“I love you too, sweetie.” He leans over kissing my forehead. “Okay, I’m-”
“Wait, one more. I’m also thankful for the tickets we found. Those tickets,” I say smiling, “allowed me to see how the other half lives. I am particularly thankful for the date I had with Daniel.”
“Really? You’ve never spoke about what happened. Do you want to talk about it now?” Dante questions.
“I will, but after you say what you’re thankful.”
“Well, I’m thankful for the ass kicking you did on the Johnson boys’ asses all those years ago. I am also thankful to Daniel for saving you from them recently, even though he made me feel like crap afterward. And finally, I am thankful for you. You make me a better person. If it was not for you, I would still be on the streets fighting or probably dead, but I couldn’t let you stay on the streets and be a victim. You’re too good for that. You were meant for a better life than this one.” He looks around our home and waves his hands.
“Dante, I am right where I’m supposed to be. You make me the better person.” I hug him hard. “Okay, enough with the sappy stuff. I’m starving. Let’s eat.”
“So tell me what happened on the date.”
He spoons garlic mash potatoes and string bean casserole on my plate. I place a few slices of turkey and cranberry sauce on his plate before I start in.
“It was a great date at first. He planned a picnic but his idea of a picnic was a formal tent with a table, chairs and a waiter.” I laugh at Dante’s surprised expression. “I guess in his country they do things a little differently. We eventually had a blanket picnic when we ate our meal. It was cozy.”
“A tent?” He looks up, arching a brow.
“Yeah, I know. But wait, it gets better. I was stuttering when he took off his shirt. Then he had the gall to laugh at me. So, I fought back. I took off my shorts slowly and seductively to reveal the bathing suit you said should come with a warning label.”
“You didn’t!” He says shocked, shoveling more food into his mouth, totally immersed in the story. “How did he respond?”
“It was great. His eyes bugged and I think he was breathing erratically. He couldn’t sit still, kept adjusting himself.” I chuckle at the memory, fanning myself. “I needed to cool off, not because it was hot out, but because him without a shirt can cause you to combust just by looking. So, I decided on a swim. I waded in deep enough to dive. When I surfaced, it was without the top of my bathing suit.”
Dante spews a mouth full of mashed potatoes through his nose and mouth all over the coffee table and rug.
“Eww, that’s gross.” I manage to say between fits of laughter.
“Oh shit! That’s great. What happened?” He remarks, coughing as we try to clean up the mess.
“I didn’t realize I lost my top until I saw him charging at me, pissed off. For the life of me I couldn’t understand what I did to make him so angry. When he retrieved the top and he swam back to me that was when I realized what had happened.”
“What happened next?” He asks knowingly.
“What do you think happened? I was bitchy.” I reply.
He shakes his head.
“In my defense, I was embarrassed.”
“And then?”
“Well, we started talking. He asked about my mother and father. We talked about you and me. It was nice talking to him, but it brought up feelings I thought I was over.” I reply thoughtfully.
“What feelings?” His face is etched with concern.
“Well, he made me think about my father. I never really gave the man a thought. I don’t know, maybe I should have looked for him?” I shrug. “What do you think? Do you think it’s too late?” I pause. “I mean to look.”
“I think if you want to find him then we’ll look. But you must be ready for whatever the outcome may be. Remember what happened on that Dr. Phil episode.” Sitting back down, he then asks, “Anything else happen?”
“He asked how we came by the tickets, so I told him the truth. This started him talking about his family and country. I questioned him about the woman he was there with. He shut down and never told me who she was.”
“Really?” He says quirking his eye brow.
I look at my plate, playing with the food. “I started to think it was his wife and you know the promise I made to myself. I couldn’t believe I broke my own promise. I was pissed, to say the least.”
“What did you say?”
“I totally went off on him. I was so angry and he wasn’t saying anything.”
Dante sighs.
“Towards the end, he swore she was not his wife. I don’t believe him because if she wasn’t why wouldn’t he tell me who she was. He wouldn’t explain. Nothing! So, I walked away.”
“How did you get home?” I hear the beginning of his anger.
“He drove me but not before he kissed me in to submission.”
Damn! Wrong choice of words. I regret them as soon as they’re said
“Son of a bitch. I’ll-.” He starts to rise from the couch, but I lean across the table touching his arm to stop him.
“You don’t understand. I wanted the kiss, as badly as him. But at the time I was too angry to realize it. When I kissed him, he felt like home. I know that sounds weird but it did.” I sigh. “Afterward, I tried to walk away again getting ready to call you, but he insisted on driving me home.”
“You should have.”
I whisper. “I knew he felt the same way I did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
“I was angry with myself and him.” I reply.
“That’s not an excuse.” Exasperation filled his tone.
“I think I screwed things up. I don’t know, maybe she wasn’t his wife. Maybe he was telling the truth? I probably looked too much into it.” I sigh frustrated then whine. “Why wouldn’t he tell me who she was? I mean he told me things about his king he wasn’t supposed to. Why not tell me about her? She must mean something to him. Right?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. There are too many unanswered questions. Why hasn’t he called?” Dante inquires gently.
“I don’t know, but we didn’t leave things on a good note. I regret the way we left things, especially if he was telling the truth. I want to see him again.”
“Who knows, maybe you will. What about your dad? Do you want to find him?”
“I don’t know.” I stand to clear the dishes. “Do you think my mom knew who he was? It was so hard to get her to talk about him.”
“What exactly would she say? Could there have been some truth in what she said?” He asks.
“The birthmark, I think, is the key. She would mention it all the time. She would rant that we were being followed. I thought she was crazy. Towards the end when things were bad, I asked her once who was following us. Her answer, and I remember it with clarity because it was like she had a moment of lucidity, was ‘my father’s enemies.’ She never mentioned my dad’s name. I always assumed she didn’t know it.”
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. Maybe he was someone she knew when she was younger? Where did your mom grow up?” He questions, getting a note pad to make notes.
“Kansas.”
“Then how did you end up in New York?” He asks confused.
I shrug.
“Do you remember traveling from Kansas to New York?”
“Not that I recall. Remember, I was only six when she died. Come to think about it, it was odd the way she would talk about Kansas. It sounded like a script- something rehearsed. Supposedly, she ran away from home at a young age.”
Maybe it was the impressions of a young child’s mind because I was forced to grow up quickly, but I have always been able to determine when something was off. With things like this, I was usually dead on. But my mother was such an enigma to me that I don’t think I ever really knew her.
“It seems we have more questions now than before. We should hire a private investigator to look into this further, but only if you are serious about this.” He says looking down at his notes.
We can’t afford another bill right now. I know he means good, but we can’t.
“No. They cost too much.” I respond disheartened.
“Well, I’ve been thinking-.”
And there it is. The subject I’ve been dreading all day. I cut him off holding up my hand.
“No. If I don’t want you fighting to pay our bills, what makes you think hiring a private investigator will change my mind? No way! Nah, uh. We will find another way.”
“It’s the quickest way. I promise-.”
“You can’t promise me anything when it comes to those fights. Anything can happen. No, we can do internet searches at the library.”
Dante gets up from his place on the couch and corners me by the sink as I furiously scrub the dishes. He turns the water off and forces me to look at him. He places his hands on my cheeks tenderly.
“Daphne, listen to me. This is the quickest and easiest way. I won’t fight out of my weight class. I’ll keep it to a minimum. Just enough to pay the P.I. and leave us with a few extra dollars.”
“No, Dante, please. I can’t risk losing you.”
The tears start to fall at the mention of losing him.
“You are all I have left.”
One of my biggest fears is that I will lose Dante one day. I don’t know if I could survive that. We’ve never talked about these fears of mine or his. To this day he still wakes up in the middle of the night to check on me. He thinks I don’t know, but it is comforting to know he worries about me as much as I worry about him.
When Dante was sixteen, he was knocked unconscious by his father. His mother went to intervene, but she was thrown, hitting her head on a granite counter top. His father, thinking he killed them, committed suicide. When Dante came to, he was face to face with his father’s dead eyes staring back at him. He overdosed, the needle still sticking out of his arm. Dante found his mother a few feet away in the kitchen surrounded by a pool of her own blood. He knew she was dead. That’s why some nights he wakes up in a frantic state and checks on me.
“Shh, it will be fine. I promise.” He hugs me tightly getting us both wet with my soapy hands. “Four fights at most. In and out. Promise. You can even come with me to make sure I‘m fine.”
I know this tone. I don’t need to see his face. His mind is made up and there is nothing I can do about it. I squeeze him tighter letting the fear release into this hug.
“Fine, I’ll be right there next to you as much as I can, up until you enter the ring. When you get out, I‘ll be there counting the number of matches.”
He smiles at me. “Tomorrow we’ll ask around about PIs. I think Rachel used one to find her mother. He was successful, but the woman didn’t want to know Rachel.”
Now that the idea is in my head I decide tomorrow is too far away and call Rachel.
On the third ring, Rachel picks up panting. “What!”
“Sorry, it’s Daphne.” Witchy much? “Umm… I’m sorry for bothering you. Call me back when it’s a better time.”
“Don’t bother. You interrupted us. No matter how fast Justin recovers it will take a while to get to where we were.” She replies still breathless.
“Oh, sorry.” I chuckle as understanding dawns.
Dante is questioning me with is eyes. I try conveying with hand gestures what Rachel and Justin were doing. Dante rolls his eyes.
“What do you need? Five minutes?” I ask sarcastically. “I can call back.”
“Screw you.” She responds tartly. “Justin takes his time and what a time it is.”
“Oh God, that’s just wrong, TMI.” I reply laughing.
She is laughing into the phone and I can hear Justin laughing also. I quickly explain to her what I need.
“Seriously, you want the PI’s number?” She inquires hesitantly.
“It’s time to look for my sperm donor.”
“Are you sure about this? I mean you’re sure you want to open that can of worms. Look what it did to me.” Her voice is full of concern.
“I have to do this. There are too many inconsistencies that I never saw before. I think my mother may have known him. I need to know if he knew about me.” I answer honestly and a little choked up.
“I hear you. But take it from me it sucks if they did know and didn’t want you. It still stings to this day, but since you’re set on this course I’ll text you his number. Be careful.”
“Thanks, I’ll let you know how it turns out.”
We disconnect and I turn to Dante, who’s waiting patiently for a blow by blow.
“Well?” He prompts.
“Umm, I interrupted a romp fest. She wasn’t too happy about it either.”
“That’s even better than you losing your bathing suit top.” He snide comment makes us both laugh. “Was she able to give you the number?”
I hear my phone vibrate on the counter.
“Should I call now? I doubt he’s there. Maybe we should wait until next week after Thanksgiving.”
“Here, let me see your phone.” He asks, holding out his hand.
I hand it to him and he looks through it. Before I know it, he’s talking to the private investigator about what we need, questioning how much it is going to cost. After a brief conversation, Dante hangs up.
“Okay. We’re definitely going to need the extra money. He’s asking for a deposit, which we can afford now but depending on what he finds will depend on how much it is going to cost.”
“I’ll pick up an extra shift at work and see if I can get some part time work elsewhere.” I state matter of fact.
“No. I’ll do a couple of fights. Enough to get us ahead and then I’m done.”
“Please don’t, Dante.” I plead, blinking back the sea of tears.
“It’s settled. There’s a fight tonight that I was thinking about entering for a little while now. The pot is huge if I win. I’ll call Tony and let him know I’m in.”
“You’ve been talking to him?”
Dante ignores me, making the call. The anticipation of him possibly getting hurt because of me is killing me. My nails are paying the price. It’s times like this I wish we had better paying jobs or family we could borrow money from. He hangs up turning to me.
“It starts at eight. I need to be there by seven forty-five. As long as you don’t get in the way and I don’t get distracted by my girlfriend being there, Tony said it was okay to bring you.”
“Your girlfriend?” I question him, smirking.
“Yeah, it was the only way to get you in. So, play the part and I’ll play mine.”
I sigh frustrated and scared. “Fine, finish cleaning up and I’ll get ready. Should I wear something special?”
“Wear something comfortable and not too showy. You need to be a wallflower.” He replies absentmindedly.
“Got it. Jeans and a hoodie.”
“Perfect. Cover your hair. This way no one will try to pick you up. I need my mind on the match, not on you. Are you sure you want to come?”
“I have to. You’re doing this for us.”
“I’ve done this before for us and didn’t involve you. This is me keeping the promise I made after the last fight.”
“Thank you, I won’t get in the way.” I hug him.
A sense of foreboding surrounds me as I dash off to my room to change. If only I could see the future.