Until then, I was enjoying the time I spent with my wife. Like now, taking her two hours away to my old home. We hadn’t lived close to the city but in a small town on the outskirts, and as I arrived where there was once a large, burning pile of rubble, there was now a home. At first, after it had been burned to the ground, I was not going to do anything about it, although I was the sole inheritor after my sister’s death. I wanted nothing to do with it, because it was a reminder of how much I failed. I drove my car up the small driveway, and pulled the brake shaft up, putting it into “park.”
“What is this place?” Alba asked.
“This is my old home. At least, how I remember it,” I said. It had taken me a lot of hard work, remembering my family home. I spent so long trying to forget it all, and that hadn’t worked.
When I finally realized by not building this home, it meant they won, that pissed me off. So, I got to building. It was what I did in my free time, far away from the crap I had to put up with back in the city.
Keeping the Serra Mafia busy wasn’t hard. They were so used to running the shop, that even messing with the smallest of things seemed to set them off and nearly destroy them. I happened to enjoy that.
“Your parents’ home?” Alba asked.
I nodded.
“You brought me here?”
“Yes.”
“Are you … I mean, are you okay with that?”
I knew from time to time, Alba got nervous because of her being part of the enemy’s world, but I knew she was nothing like her family. If I did have any doubts, the way she was at the safe house I’d gotten for the victims of the Serra Mafia traffickingconfirmed it for me. Alba was a good woman, through and through.
I climbed out of the car, and Alba did at the same time, which made me smile. It had taken her a little time, but she was breaking out of some of the traditions her family had instilled in her. One of those was waiting for a man to assist her out of a car.
She rounded the car, and there was a smile on her face, but I also saw the hint of sadness in her gaze. This woman had so much love and compassion. I couldn’t help but reach over and kiss her forehead, which made her giggle.
“This looks incredible.”
“And it was a pile of rubble for a long time.”
“Why didn’t you want to rebuild it right away?”
I held her tightly to me. “Because I was angry. This was a reminder of all I had lost, and in that moment, I didn’t want to reminded of anything. I … I just couldn’t.”
Alba wrapped her arms around me. “You’re the strongest man I have ever met.”
I didn’t want to let her go. She never got to see the real me before all this shit happened.
As I pulled the keys from my back pocket, we made our way to the front door, keeping our hands joined as we did so. Sliding the key into the lock, I twisted it and let us inside. There was no need to turn on the light, as the glow coming from the main front windows lit up the whole house.
In that moment, I couldn’t help but see my mom and dad in my mind’s eye. My dad holding a newspaper, and there was always an oil stain or something on him that gave away the fact he’d been tinkering. Even when he wasn’t working in the main garage, in his own at home, he would be playing with some machine. He loved to learn and was always prepared to move. That was my dad.
My mom would without fail have an apron around her waist, and there would always be a small smudge of flour or chocolate somewhere on her face. My mom loved to keep a good family home, complete with homemade baking. Not once did she ever go to the bakery. I remember growing up around Halloween, always wanting a gingerbread man. Mom would bake them and decorate with little pieces of candy. And my sister would be smiling, or in her case, often smirking, because she found something so funny. I didn’t always get her sense of humor, but I missed her.
Alba rubbed at my chest, and the scene before me faded. That was a lifetime ago. A time now forgotten and lost.
“I wish you could have met them,” I said. “My family. They would have adored you.”
“You don’t think they would have hated me?”
I closed the front door, and it was the first time I had ever done that. Every single time I came back to this house, I never shut the front door. I would check each room, but never closed the front door.
“No, they wouldn’t. They would have been proud that no matter what you had to deal with, you did so with strength. You didn’t let your family change who you were.” I gripped the back of her neck and tugged her close, kissing her. “I wish you could have known me before.”
“I do know you,” Alba said. “You may not think it, but that man is still there. He’s still inside you.” She rubbed my chest. “And nothing anyone does can change that.”
“Let me show you the house.”
I took her through every room and couldn’t help pointing out parts I wasn’t sure of, and that I didn’t remember how it went. I would say I had gotten my parents’ house ninety-nine percent accurate, but there was always room for error. When I realized I didn’t remember every single thing about my parents’home, I’d been completely wracked with guilt. I’d wanted to remember every little detail, but they hadn’t come to me. They were things I should have known, like how the fireplace looked. We’d spent many years posing in front of that fireplace, especially around Christmas, and in my mind, I couldn’t get it right.