Silent Prejudice

21

Tears tumble down my cheeks as I watch my daddy’s chin quiver with regret. Regardless of what he said at the start, he’s not mad at me. He’s furious with himself. But as much as I hate for him to be upset, there’s a part of me realizing for the first time that he’s right. I don’t fully trust him, and that breaks my heart even more than witnessing his self-loathing.

Where Aldo is concerned, I had a variety of reasons for not speaking up about his first assault attempt that didn’t necessarily involve my father. But in addition, I was also reluctant to go to my father with my problems because he can be dismissive that any real trouble exists. How many times have I gone to him with concerns about Mom and my sisters? And how many excuses has he made on their behalf? I adore my father, but he isn’t a man of action. As much as it hurts to admit, Dad is just as flawed as any other person, no matter how much I’ve idolized him. “Why don’t you ever confront her?” I ask with a shaky breath. If we’re going to talk about what happened, we’re going to address the cause, not the result. Mom has been dragging our family down for years while Dad stands by and turns a blind eye. If we’re going to talk about trust, then we’ll go straight to the root of the matter. “Because I didn’t realize how destructive she’d become.” “You didn’t want to see it, and I can understand that. I adore you, Daddy, always have and always will, but we needed you to step in and be the parent Mom couldn’t be. Marca still needs that.” I try to speak with tenderness because I know what I’m saying has to hurt. Confronting his shortcomings isn’t easy, but that’s one area where he’s better than most. Dad’s not afraid to be wrong. He turns his bloodshot eyes in my direction. “I’m so sorry, baby girl. I just … I never thought…” I lean forward swiftly and wrap my arms around him, assuring him of my love. “It’s okay, Daddy. I know you never meant anything bad to happen.” His body hitches with a shuddered breath that matches my own, and his arms clutch me tightly. As tough as it is to have such a difficult conversation and to see my father so distraught, I’m relieved it happened. That I voiced the things needing to be said, and that for once, Dad heard me. He pulls back eventually, after we’ve both settled, and wipes at his eyes. “I want you to know things are going to change. I’m going to change.” “As long as you’re still you,” I say softly. “You mean the world to me, Daddy, just as you are.” He gives me a sad smile and kisses my cheek. “Enough with the waterworks. Let’s get inside.” I’m happy to oblige. It’s been one hell of a day. I sleep like the dead, but only after giving Gia a doctored summary of my evolved relationship with Zeno. From the looks of it, she’d been busting at the seams to find out what had happened between us. I also told her about my talk with Dad. By the time the lights clicked off, mental and emotional exhaustion carried me straight to dreamland. When our alarm first sounds the next morning, I feel like I’m being drawn awake from a medically induced coma. I’m disoriented, and my movements are clumsy and sluggish. “God, I could sleep for a week,” I moan to the universe, in case it’s listening and cares to comply. Gia chuckles and sits up, seemingly unencumbered by my affliction. “Do you need a quick shower to wake you up? You can jump in the bathroom first if you need to.” “Nah, you go ahead. The only thing that’s going to help me is sweet caffeine.” I fling the covers off me and slouch ogre-like on the edge of the bed. Once I’ve summoned the energy to stand, I slide on some lounge pants and plod down the stairs in search of liquid energy. When the Keurig kicks into gear, the rich aroma alone is enough to prick at my sense and liven me up. I take my full mug to the kitchen table, surprised when Livia breezes into the room. “Morning, Isa,” she says cheerily. “You’re up early. You have somewhere to be today?” “No,” she says innocently while rummaging through the fridge. “Not really.” Okaaaay. My spidey senses tell me something is up, but it’s awfully early for her games. I sip my coffee instead and focus on waking up. “Don’t we have any orange juice in here?” “Juice? You always have coffee in the morning.” Liv turns to grin at me and places a hand over her flat abdomen. “I don’t think I’m supposed to have coffee now.” “Oh, yeah. Mom said you weren’t feeling great last night.” She sucks her lips between her teeth, fighting a grin. “That’s not what I meant. I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to have caffeine … when you’re pregnant.” For the briefest moment, I convince myself that I’ve had a stroke. It explains my exaggerated weariness and Livia’s outlandish admission—I’m clearly suffering from brain damage and delusions. It has to be. I dazedly sip from my mug, burn my tongue, then startle enough to slosh hot coffee onto my fingers. “Goddammit!” I set down the mug and shake my hand to ease the sting. Livia giggles and offers me a paper towel. I look between her and the coffee, a horrible surety settling in that this is real. My tongue really is burned, and Livia really did just tell me she’s pregnant. I’ve never been so disappointed in my own good health. “Please, tell me you’re joking,” I breathe. Annoyance flashes behind her eyes. “Well, that’s rude,” she mutters. “I wasn’t certain until this morning, but I took a test, and it’s positive!” She stretches her arms wide and beams like the happiest woman in the world. “Liv, you don’t even have a boyfriend. How can you be so happy? Who is the father?” “It’s Nevio, of course.” Her grin is eerily calculating. “I told you everything would be fine. That I’d marry someone rich and wouldn’t have to scrub toilets all my life.” I’m going to be sick.