Page 4 of A Bond Beyond Blood

As I left the brisk chill of mid-December outside, I was assaulted by its presence.So overwhelmed that I found myself stuck in the threshold, one foot in and one out, unable to move forward.

After a brief deliberation, I gathered the last of my nerve and braced myself, then stepped all the way inside, closed the door behind me, and drew a stuttering breath.

Entering the apartment above Fiorino’s Meats didn’t hold the same allure as it did just a few weeks ago.When I visited for Thanksgiving, the sheer joy of coming home was overwhelming.Like a grandmother’s open arms or a warm blanket paired with a cup of steaming hot cocoa, this place embraced me with that uncanny sense ofhome.

Now, however, returning here felt like a curse.A shackle slapped around my ankle.

A tether.

The loudclinkof a lock slipping into place.

Final.

That familiar scent of aged meat and Dad’s favorite lasagna heating up in the oven was gone.His cigar smoke still lingered, but it was stale; he gave them up the day he received his diagnosis, which was almost comical now, all things considered.He should have held onto that habit, continued to find joy in that one little act of rebellion.

He hadn’t died, not yet, but the cancer metastasized throughout his body had feasted on him from the inside out until, I’d been told, little of the man I love remained.

As I stood in the entryway, gnawing at the remnants of the Poppy Parade red nail polish still dotting my fingernails from an attempt to bond with one of Gio’s girls over Thanksgiving weekend, my thoughts returned to that day when my father gathered us around the dining table we’d eaten at countless times.

The table we kicked each other beneath or threw food across when he had his back turned.With scratches still carved into the wood from one of Leo’s rebellious moments, and that stain from the time Gio spilled mulled wine and it stained through the varnish...

Around that table full of countless memories, our father sat us down to break the news.

On that brisk Thanksgiving Day, surrounded by my brothers and their significant others—well, Leo’s wife and Gio’s flavor of the week—with plates stacked full of the feast Dad spent the entire day preparing, he told us about his diagnosis.

And then he told us that he’d already decided to succumb.To give up.

‘The cancer is too far gone,’ he’d said.‘Chemo won’t work.’

Well, not if he didn’ttry, but my father was nothing if not stubborn, and he’d already made his decision, his children be damned.Part of me wondered what my mother would have said if she’d been here.Was she the type of woman who would have put her foot down, convinced him to fight?

But it didn’t matter and she wasn’t here.

The four weeks since that fateful day flew by in a blink.

I’d had four whole weeks to process the news.

Four.

Four weeks to accept his decision todieinstead offight.

The hospice nurse called yesterday to tell me it was time.

To come home.

To say goodbye.

And to take over.

Two years of college down and two more to go, now on hold indefinitely.

Because I couldn’t say no, couldn’t tell my father that I didn’twantto take over the family business.

My eldest brother had his own business to run.Even though it was only a block away, Fiorino’s Deli took up all of Giovanni’s time.And our middle brother couldn’t step into Dad’s shoes, not with a new wife and a baby on the way, happily living out their fairy tale on the west coast because my sister-in-law ‘wouldn’t dream of leaving California’—and Leo wouldn’t dream of doing anything to upset her.

So it mattered not that I had goals and dreams of my own—and a scholarship that would now be wasted—the onus of taking over fell on me, the baby of the family.Because the men of the Fiorino family had always told me what to do and when.Out of love, I knew, but control was control, no matter the motivation.And I was the baby, the princess, meant to behave and do what I was told.Because the men in my familyknew better.

I hung my head and closed my eyes, breathing deeply to steel my nerves.The living room lay between me and the hallway that led to his room.Just a short few yards away, but I couldn’t bring myself to push off the front door and move toward him.

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