The Italian Heir-CASTELLANO SERIES: MARTIN’S STORY

19

The day I landed in New York, I received a text message, no, scratch that, multiple text messages from none other than my best friend, Steve, telling me that life hadn’t been the same in the short period of time when I was absent from his life. In a less manly term, he’s telling me that he misses me.

Morning came all too soon and I was about to meet him for breakfast. I was hungry and I needed to fill him in with the things that had happened over the past week.

I won’t deny that I have spared some thought on the whole unprecedented meeting with my birth mother. I might even daresay, it messed with my head a little no matter how hard I try to suppress it by drowning myself in work. It was a lousy coping mechanism, that I admit. But I wasn’t in a position whereby I had many options displayed either.

A small part of me wondered whether things for us would have played out differently if she came looking for me. Had she wanted to fix things between mother and son? Would the resentment on my part allow it to happen?

Letting out a resigned sigh, I exited my parked car and jogged across the street as soon as there were no signs of oncoming traffic. Buvette—the place I was meeting Steve was just a little up ahead from where I was parked.

Pushing open the door, the smell of freshly brewed coffee instantly revives my soul from being stuck in traffic earlier. Steve was easy to spot, dressed in his usual black jacket and hair gelled and blown dry, he looked like was prepped and ready to walk a runway and not attending lectures. Lifting his head from whatever he was reading earlier, he raised a half-hearted hand to make his presence known. I made my way toward him, smacking him lightly on the back, greeting him the way I always do.

“It feels like ages since I’ve last seen you; you’ve grown into a fine young man,” Steve jokingly said as I sat down at the seat opposite him at the table. My first instinct was to roll my eyes, but I decided to play nice. Yes, I too, missed my best friend.

“I’m touched, really. The first person you’re dying to see in the early ass c***k of dawn is me.” He leaned in with a saccharine smile.

“You were acting like a needy person over the phone. I was afraid you’d take drastic measures by coming to the office like you did before and crying to me about how we don’t spend time together anymore like we always do.”

He let out an overly exaggerated sigh.

“You’re always so damn grumpy in the morning, you need to work on that attitude.” He complained, slipping me the menu that was sitting stoically by his coffee cup. “I’m sorry, would you prefer I greeted you with a kiss?” I offered, reaching for his face to which he recoiled quickly, narrowly missing his seat while darting away.

“No thanks, god knows where that mouth has been. He chuckled, “But, maybe if you ask me nicely…”

I instantly noticed the elderly woman that was seated at the next table pulling a face at both of us. Following my gaze, Steve clearly did too and, apparently, that only humored him further. “I’m contemplating if I still want to be seen in public with you, why do you always do this to me?” I muttered, eyes scanning the loosely written words on the menu.

“There’s something different about you…” Steve began seconds after. I could tell he was watching me closely like a hawk eyeing its prey. “Although, I can’t quite put a finger on it.”

“You’re over-analyzing.”

“No no, that can’t be it.” he shook his head dismissively. “Definitely not, you seem…” And as if the next word that came out of him left a weird taste in his mouth, he didn’t seem to mind. “Cheery.”

“Really?” I asked, clearly unconvinced that there was any behavioral change in my demeanor this morning. Even if there was, I was doing a terrible job of hiding it because I knew just who exactly was contributing to this sudden shift of ‘change’.

Eager to change the topic, I ran my eyes through the menu quickly and opted for eggs benedict on toast with avocado slices. To wash it all down, I ordered a cup of black coffee. Steve was already getting his second refill from the waitress.

“Are you seeing someone?” Steve finally dropped the question.

I looked up just in time to have him quirk his brows at me, lips parting into a mischievous smile as he waited to be told he was right with his guessing.

I turned away to avoid any more eye contact. But I knew he was not about to let it go.

“Ah ha!” he pointed a crooked finger at me. “I knew it. Something about you was off the moment you bounced in here.”

“Bounce? I did not—”

“Yes, you did. It was like you were walking on bed springs. You’ve proven me right with that little to no clarity in your answer and at the same time, piqued my curiosity. Congratulations, I’m about to pester you until you tell me the truth. Now, pray tell as to who this lucky girl is. Go on, give me a hint.”

“A hint?” I ran my hand over my mouth, thinking hard. “You’ve met her many times.”

He squinted at me and the cogwheels in his head started to spin. And as if on cue, a lightbulb went off above his head. “Then I must know this girl to some degree.” He drummed his fingers impatiently on the table.

“You didn’t deny that you were seeing someone either, so I daresay you are serious about her.”

I shut the menu and slipped it aside after having a waitress take my order; folding my arms in amusement as he began to think harder. Steve was just as intelligent; he had this thing whereby he comes up with his own theories and proves them that they were real. If he were a detective, he’d c***k the most impossible of cases. In classes, he’d give the Professors sizeable headaches by trying to prove them wrong during lectures.

Right now, it seemed like there was nothing that could sidetrack him from his mission to figure out just who this mystery girl was. It was both amusing yet daunting to have him find out the truth.

But I wasn’t going to make him speculate any further because he was the one person I did not bother keeping huge secrets from.

“I’m seeing Erika.”

Steve looked at me as if his eyes were about to fall out of their sockets, his brows raised so high they looked like they were about to disappear into his hairline. “Who, now what?” he hissed.

“I also met my birth mother when I was on my business trip to Melbourne,” I added.

“Wait hold up.” Steve raised both his hands as if to stop time with all the information he was getting in a matter of seconds. “Erika? And your real mother? What have you been…” he struggled to form his next sentence as he ran a hand over his mouth trying to suppress his onslaught of questions. “Okay.” He finally said. “Let’s hear it.”

So, I told him.

I let him know Rachel Moretti showed up after disappearing for two whole decades of my life. It almost felt like she had wanted to reconcile but was bad at it. The things she had said to guilt trip me, the excuses she’s given and she even told me that I was lucky that she left me in the hands of the Castellanos’ because if it weren’t for her selfless act, whatever I had right now could only be some young adult’s dream.

I even told him how she became related to my ex-girlfriend, Zoe, and all these years, my birth mother knew where I was through her. Everything I did in the last few years, who I’ve become—I felt like she was watching me through someone’s eyes but had not attempted to initiate any form of contact. She’s had many chances but took none and I wasn’t about to justify the reasons as to why she neglected me in the first place. Period.

Steve was silent for the most part, the seriousness on his face told me he had trouble digesting all that had happened in the time I was gone; he also knew this was a rather sensitive topic to me.

Growing up, we never spoke about my real parents although he knew I was taken in by the Castellanos’. Years ago, when my mother was showing him our photo albums, he asked why there wasn’t any picture that showed she was pregnant with me although there were many taken with my siblings; there were no newborn pictures of me either, but mom and dad made sure I had just as many photos taken from the day they took me in.

Mom told Steve that I was a special child and that I was delivered to them by an angel himself. It was only years later when he realized how babies were made through Biology lessons did it occur to him that I wasn’t my parents’ real child and, clearly, there was also no way I was baby Jesus.

“What’s your take on this?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t exactly had it all figured out yet, because if I did, I wouldn’t be telling you all this. I’m not sure if I want to do anything about it either. She has had her chance at reconciliation, many times, in fact, as she claims. For the longest time, I have resented her, but a small part of me did also wish she would come looking for me.”

He stared at his coffee for a while before looking up, “Say if she did, Martin, say if she had come looking for you and tried to make amends, would you have forgiven her there and then?”

“I don’t know.” And it was an honest answer.

Steve nodded thoughtfully.

“There’s no need to answer that but it’s something you can and should consider thinking about. We both don’t know why she did what she did to you, and even if you did, what then would you make out of it?

On another end, with her departure, you’ve got a family who loves you, parents who have considered you as their own since they took you in. You’ve got friends who care a great deal about you, these are the people who have stayed and journeyed through life with you. You’ve got a lot going in your life, we all do. Problems and people do resurface from the past from time to time, but my take on it is because you’ve not dealt with or made peace with it, with them. I can’t tell you how to resolve this because I’ve not been through what you have and I’m not going to pretend I know what to do. But I promise you I’ll be here for you as your friend, because whatever you do, you have my full support.”

“Even if I wanted to murder somebody?” I asked.

The elderly woman turned to look at us sharply, thoroughly considering if she needed to call the police department on us. “I’m kidding.”

“Castellano, you just ruined our little moment.” Steve muttered under his breath before turning in his seat. “Ma’am, I can assure you that’s not going to happen. My friend here is jetlagged from his circus clowns tour and he’s clearly having trouble thinking straight. Coffee will definitely straighten him out.” Steve quickly explained to her and she let out a harrumph before leaving her table to pay for her meal, muttering something about ‘young, uncultured swine’.

My breakfast finally arrived on a large plate along with steaming hot coffee. I thanked the waiter and forked the avocado on the toast, toying with it.

“I’m sorry. I’m still trying very hard to be able to express myself through words.”

“Years of keeping things to yourself does that for you, but hey, it’s never too late to do so and I appreciate you telling me.”

“I hear you loud and clear Steve. Thank you for just being here.”

“Alright, now this is just getting way too cheesy for our own good.” His mouth began morphing into a big fat grin. “Okay so, about Erika?”

Oh boy, here we go.

***

Anxiety was a silent killer.

I used to think it was some made-up psychological behavioral term that therapists deduced out of their patients who can’t seem to handle their everyday problems and, to make matters worse, the ability to come up with a solution would seem almost impossible. The emotion alone could cause a rippling effect, having problems eventually being linked to another.

My point is, I was wrong.

The daily reports I had been receiving from Zoe were close to perfect. The advertising campaign was right on schedule with minor tweaks and improvements here and there. The team was working round the clock perfecting a 15 second video that was about to be viewed by millions of people that will either increase our profit significantly or cause a dip in the share market.

So why do I have a bad feeling about this? Because it was too clean, too spotless with close to zero hiccups. This project wasn’t something I’d want to take lightly, the amount of money spent on seeing this through is great and it was also a task my parents trusted me with. I was afraid of the impending disappointment I’d be if something or anything at all went wrong.

I’d blame no one but myself.

It’s a strange thing that when you’re dreading something , you’d give anything to slow down time, but somehow it has a disobliging habit of speeding up.

I felt her arms wrapping around my shoulders and I looked up, her eyes gazing at the view present right in front of us behind the glass. “I didn’t hear you come in.” I said, pecking her forearm and easing into her embrace. Erika always had this effect on me.

She rubbed my arms soothingly and whispered, “You have a lot on your mind, I can tell, and that’s okay.” Erika reassured me.

“I’m anxious about the project we’re working on. Something feels off.” I told her honestly. “And it’s not that I’m afraid it will go wrong under the watchful eyes of Zoe, but rather by unrelated people. I fear I’d mess this up, causing inevitable disappointment, even with all the contingency plans we had mapped out. What if it all fails? That failure alone could cost me and the company greatly.”

“Martin,” she spoke gently—the way she would whenever she was about to give me her many nuggets of wisdom. “Would you like to know what is one of the many qualities I love about you?”

I looked up to my side, her head turned as she met my eyes. I nodded.

“You’re not afraid to admit your fears and you’re brazenly honest about it. Growing up, I used to think you were invincible and that there was nothing and no one in this world could ever intimidate you, make you feel small. You never seem to be in a position where you doubt your abilities.” She loosened her arms around me and spun my chair gently around so that I was able to look at her clearly.

“Despite the fact that you aren’t very good at expressing your thoughts in words, you still try your hardest because you prefer dealing with situations head on and I think that is beyond brave. You acknowledge your fears and tell them to bring them on. That’s not all. To top it all off, you come up with solutions and you make them happen. Isn’t that why you wanted to work with Mr. Tate on building that firewall in case things go south? Isn’t that why had me and Lucien work with the team of designers to come up with an alternative?”

She palmed my cheek gently and encouraged me to lift my head. “It’s completely okay to feel anxious. Heck, we all feel that emotion every single day when a situation gets challenging and forces us out of our comfort zone. There will be times you can’t escape your difficult situation, but you can do something about your perspective.”

I stared at Erika with the utmost admiration in my eyes, something in me swelled with comfort when she broke it all down for me. She reminded me why I started all this in the first place and to keep going.

“I know I don’t say this enough but it’s times like this I appreciate you sticking around. I was wrong when I thought you weren’t suited for corporate, because as far as I know, you’re doing a far better job than I am.”

Reaching for her hand, I held them and squeezed them in my own, kissing the top of her knuckles. “I’m not better than you are but we’re a team Marts—you and I. Remember that.”

“How can I ever forget that tesoro?”

“Now, about that little list you had me make up, do you think you’d be up for it starting today?”

“Today?”

“Only if you’re up for it, that is.”

“How can I say no to all that effort you’ve put in?”

“Great! I’ll see you after 5.” She leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on my cheek, straightening herself once more, she began heading for the double doors of my office.

“Is there any way you can move back in here with me?” I nodded towards the little pathetic cubicle I had made for her awhile back where she occasionally glared at me from across her spot, making sure I knew I was keeping her away from the rest of the employees. Well, I wasn’t about to tell her that it was my jealousy that got the better of me.

“I’d feel more focused and motivated if I had you near me.” I said a little louder.

“Marts, you and I both know that neither of us are going to get any work done if we were alone in the same room.”

“But I’m the boss, can’t I order you to do so?”

“I have basic employee rights. I do have to say no,” she said, as a matter of fact.

“Yes ma’am. Duly noted.” I said reluctantly.

She blew me a kiss before disappearing behind the door. I leaned back in my chair once more, pressing my hands against my face and let out a muffled deep sigh. Erika was right, it was alright to feel anxious, but even with all the preparation I had made leading up to this day, I still felt like it wasn’t enough.

I’ve faced tons of challenging situations whereby people doubted my capabilities when I was much younger. I was thrown into situations where I had to step out of my comfort zone just to prove that I was worthy enough to take on roles that most people would kill for.

I also had people telling me I wasn’t good enough to be where I was; that I already had it all and I should just enjoy the life my affluent parents had to offer instead of starting from ground zero.

As if on cue, a small voice in my head reminded me that God gives the toughest battles to his strongest warriors. That reminder alone was sufficient.

Reaching for a notepad on the desk, I reached for the nearest pen available and began scribbling down the things I needed to do. In attempt to get my head straight, I needed to declutter my mind.

The first task at the very top of my list was something I had always wanted to do but haven’t gotten around it because the timing wasn’t right. But now I see it fit and am ready to execute it.

Smiling, I reached for my phone and scrolled through the contacts, praying he’d pick up on the first ring. He did.

‘How can I help you kid?’ the voice greeted me on the other line.

‘I need your permission before I proceed with something. Should we speak over lunch today?’

‘Sure, why don’t you drop by? My wife’s making her amazing cheesecake for dessert as we speak’

The man sounded doubtful as soon as those words left his mouth, but nevertheless, I’d eat that cheesecake over and over again if that meant he agreed to my request.

“Sure, I’ll be over in a few.”