Page 86 of Hate Mail

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Dear Luca,

I know that Joel is your father. I don’t really know how to feel about this. I really hate being lied to, and to find out that Joel has been keeping this from me for weeks is pretty hurtful. I’m not sure if he gave you the letter I left for you Friday night. I feel like I can’t trust him now, but hopefully he will get this one to you. I want to meet you. Are you going to show your face, or are you afraid that I’ll find out you’ve been ugly all this time?

Love,

Naomi

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I’m at work, focusing on my computer when I get the unsettling feeling that someone is watching me. The skin on the back of my neck prickles. I turn around. Anne is standing behind me. Somehow, I manage not to gasp or show any sign that I’ve been startled.

“Creep,” I say. “Why are you just standing there?”

She purses her lips. “How was the rest of your weekend?”

I shrug and face my computer again. “It was good. I took a long nap on the couch with both of the kittens yesterday.”

“Did you talk to Luca?”

“Talk to him? No. I didn’t hear from him all weekend, so I wrote another letter.”

“Oh. He didn’t, like, show up at your door or anything?”

I frown. “Don’t you think that would be the first thing I’d tell you?”

She sits down with a thud in the chair next to mine, and sets the coffee she brought next to me. “I never know with you, Gnome. You can be so secretive when you want to be.”

“I’m not keeping any secrets from you.”

As I say it, I think about what I found out about Joel. I take a moment to think about whether to tell her. “Actually.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“I did learn something new this weekend,” I continue.

“Go on,” she prods, leaning forward.

“Luca hasn’t been in my building.”

She frowns. “But what about the letters you left on top of the mailboxes?”

“His dad took them.”

“His dad? I thought his dad abandoned him when he was a kid.”

“That’s what his old neighbor Carol Bell said. We don’t actually know that they didn’t stay in touch. Besides, even if that was true, they could have reconnected at some point.”

“How do you know it’s his dad, though?”

“Remember when you told me that I was overthinking Caitlin’s nickname for Joel?”

“Yes,” she says slowly.

“It turns out there was a very good reason she was calling him Mr. Pickles.”

“Wait. Luca’s dad is the security guard in your building?”

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