Page 97 of My Infatuation with Isabella

“I’ll see you on Saturday, Shirley,” I say with a laugh as she heads toward the door.

“Look who the cat dragged in.”

I turn to the left and see my mother with Francesca beside her. Even though we still text from time to time, I haven’t seen her in months, and it’s...awkward. “Oh...hey, Fran.”

“Hi.” She gives a demure smile. “My mom told me that Dana is running a drive for the homeless shelter, so I came by to drop off some blankets and canned food. I also got a few toys for the kids.”

Donations have been coming in thick and fast, so much so that we’ve had to do deliveries to the home at least once a week. When Bella announced on the show thatPiatto Pienowould be a drop-off zone, I don’t think she realized it was a form of advertising for us because we’ve been crazy busy since then. Lunchtime is chaos, but it slows down at around four p.m., then picks up again after six. The lunch crowd has already dissipated, which makes this encounter a little more uncomfortable because there are no distractions.

“Ah, thanks Fran,” I say, peeking into the box she hands over to me. “I’m sure the kids are going to love these.”

I say this even though I don’t know for sure. I use every excuse from work to gym to avoid going to the shelter. I went there once, and after meeting some of the children, I just can’t bring myself to do it again.

The mere mention of kids makes the situation ten times more awkward, and Fran quickly turns to my mother. “So, how’s the house-hunting going?”

My mother stiffens, and it instantly puts me on edge. “House hunting? What is she talking about?”

She seems irritable about this reveal when she responds. “It’s not official. I just mentioned to Sarah that we may look at putting our house on the market...and we may move if?”

It’s the way she says it that makes my blood run cold. “If what?”

“If...if Alan gets parole.”

“Parole?” I feel like every organ inside me collapses. I keep my voice down when I speak to avoid customers eavesdropping, but even my whisper is laced with acid. “It was his second offense. He gotlife. How is he up for parole when he’s only been in there eight years?”

“Calm down,” My mother reaches over to stroke my arm. “It’s not parole. It’s just the hearing. Paul says he’s a hundred percent sure they’ll reject it, and Paul’s been our lawyer from the beginning. He knows Dana’s case inside out, so I trust his judgment.”

“Then why are you house hunting?”

“Because we have to be prepared for anything. If by some odd chance, he gets out, Dana may regress. We need to take her someplace where she’ll feel safe, so that doesn’t happen.”

I sneer. “So, why am I only hearing about this now? And how does Fran know about it and not me?”

Francesca quickly steps in to deescalate the rising tension. “My mom only told me that your parents were looking for houses. I didn’t know about anything else.”

“And your father and I didn’t want you and Dana finding out until the outcome of the hearing was final. Dana might start having episodes again and you...you know how you get, so I just want you to push this out of your mind until they have the hearing at the end of next month. Paul will keep us updated with any news, so until we hear from him, don’t even worry about it, okay?”

I let out a slow breath. This isn’t something in my control and I’ve given that asshole too much power over my life already, so I’m going to try and do as she suggested and push it out of my mind until the end of next month. “Okay.”

She nods, then looks over at Fran. “And please tell your mother to call me. She’s been avoiding me since I told her she’s going to be my plus one for Bernice’s daughter’s wedding next Saturday.”

“Isn’t Giorgio going with you?” Fran asks with a slight giggle.

“Giorgio hasn’t been fond of Bernice since she threw up all over him at a frat party. Your mother doesn’t like her either, but she’s easier to convince.” She looks past Fran to wave a greeting at the customer who just walked in. “Nina is here. I have to go...but come say bye before you leave.” She gives Fran’s arm a gentle squeeze, then walks over to Nina.

“My mom really doesn’t want to go,” Fran says once we’re alone.

“My mom really isn’t going to give her a choice,” I counter.

After a short snicker, she turns serious again. “So, how are you feeling...about this whole parole hearing?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“I will be.”

She places her hand over mine. “Dylan, I know we didn’t end on...the best of terms. I said a lot of awful things to you...and I didn’t mean any of it. I was angry and...”

---