Lisa Desrochers - A Little Too Much

“You were grieving,” Alessandro says. “It was understandable.”

She nods, and her eyes flick to me, then back to Alessandro. “Hilary’s never shared details with me about your relationship in the group home.”

And I guess we’re diving right in.

Alessandro glances at me as if asking for permission. I shrug and he looks past me at Mallory. “My brother and I were there for only a few months, but Hilary and I grew very close during that time.”

Her eyes simultaneously widen and narrow in her patented disapproving skeptic’s squint. “ Very close, obviously.”

He nods slowly. “I cared for her a great deal.”

Jeff comes back into the room. He sets our glasses in front of us on the coffee table, hands Mallory her wine, and settles into the armchair next to her.

She takes a long sip, then looks hard at Alessandro. “Were you the one who got her involved with drugs?”

“My brother and I both dealt drugs then,” he answers. “I wasn’t a good influence on Hilary.”

“It wasn’t you, Alessandro,” I say, unable to let him take the blame for my choices. I’ve shed some pretty major secrets lately. May as well shed them all. I look at Mallory and breathe deeply. “I wasn’t ‘involved with drugs,’ ” I say, making air quotes. “I was never an addict.”

Alessandro’s fingers weave into mine and squeeze as Mallory narrows her eyes at me. “Hilary, rewriting history isn’t going to help you.”

“I took those pills because I was done . I was scared and alone and pregnant and . . . I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Jeff’s mouth falls open and Mallory turns ash white. “You . . .” She drops her head into her hand. “Oh, God. This is my fault.”

“It’s not anyone’s fault, Mallory,” I say. “I made the choice.”

Jeff squeezes her hand harder. “I think our primary concern, Alessandro,” he says, bringing the conversation back to the here and now, “is what is going to happen from here. Considering your history together, we don’t believe that it’s healthy for Hilary to spend time with you.”

One of my fists balls into the couch cushion and the other nearly snaps the bones in Alessandro’s hand. “You two don’t get to decide that,” I spit, feeling totally betrayed that Jeff let Mallory manipulate him.

Mallory lifts her head from her hand and glares at me, but Alessandro takes my hand into both of his and kisses my knuckles, giving me an “it’s okay” look.

“I don’t know how much Hilary has told you about me, but for a good portion of the time I was away from New York, I was training for the Catholic priesthood. I attended seminary in Rome and was within a few days of being ordained before I realized the priesthood wasn’t my path. I was very troubled when I left New York, and it was the faith that our family priest in Corsica showed in me that pulled me out of my self-destructive spiral. Because of this, working with children is my passion. I am the director of Teen Services at the Catholic Big Sisters and Big Brothers Center on the Lower East Side. My goal is to give those children a sense of self-worth and encourage them to be good Christians and good people, just as Father Costa did for me. I’ve made mistakes I can never undo,” he says with a sideways glance at me, “but I have, and will continue to spend my life atoning for them as the Lord shows me opportunity.”

Mallory shoots a wary glance at Jeff. “That’s commendable, but it doesn’t change our concern. That was a difficult time for Hilary, and I’m not convinced that having you here . . . reminding her of it, is in her best interest.”

“Mallory,” I warn through a tight jaw. You’d swear from the conversation that I must be five years old.

Her gaze becomes sharp as it cuts to me. “I worry about you, okay? It’s a habit that doesn’t die easy.”

“I understand your concern, Mallory,” Alessandro says, his eyes slipping to mine again, “and I shared it at first. I was worried about what I would find when I went looking for Hilary, and when I found a beautiful, capable woman, I worried what seeing me again might do to her. I even left, trying to protect her, but the truth is, I loved your sister then, when we were both so broken, and despite myself and my best intentions, I’ve fallen in love with her all over again. As long as she’s willing, I intend to be a part of her life. I’d also like to be a part of Henri’s, if you’ll allow it.”

“He’s not ready to know the truth,” Mallory says, her voice suddenly sharp.

“I respect your decision as a parent as to what’s best for your children. All I ask is that I’m allowed to know both Henri and Max. I would like to be a friend to them, and to you.”

Mallory’s face pinches. “I’m just . . . it’s too easy to slip, to say something without realizing it. And, no offense intended, but I don’t know you from Adam. How can we be sure you won’t change your mind and tell him, or petition for custody?”

Alessandro leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “You were there for Hilary when I abandoned her. You’ve been a constant positive in her life when she’s so desperately needed one. And your son is the amazing child he is because of his parenting. I would never dream of doing anything to hurt him, or you.”

She and Jeff exchange a look and Mallory produces three stapled pages of white paper from the side table. “Would you sign this petition to waive your parental rights?”

Alessandro reaches across me and takes it from her shaking hand. He reads over the first page, then looks at me with a question in his eyes.

“I had to sign one when I gave Henri up for adoption,” I tell him.

He nods slowly then shifts his gaze to Mallory. “Do you have a pen?”

The tension in the room seems to palpably bleed out as Mallory hands him a pen and he signs.

Jeff squeezes Mallory’s hand and pushes up from his chair. “Thank you, Alessandro,” he says, extending his arm.

Alessandro stands and shakes his hand. “Thank you for being there for Hilary when she needed you.”

Jeff gives him a nod. “Dinner is just about ready,” he says, turning for the kitchen, “ . . . if we haven’t killed your appetite,” he adds with a teasing smile over his shoulder at me.

Dinner conversation is lighter. We tell Mallory and Jeff about our Thursdays and Jeff asks Alessandro for information on Pizza for the Masses. Mallory suggests the High Line in the spring if we haven’t seen it and Alessandro adds it to his list.

When we’re through and Mallory packs up a bag of leftovers for Alessandro, I can’t help but smile. He has her stamp of approval. As much as she wants to, even she can’t resist him.

As we’re standing on the subway platform after making the transfer from the PATH, Alessandro scoops me into his arms and kisses me. “I’ve been dying to do that all night,” he says when he pulls away.

I raise my eyebrows at him. “What took you so long?”

“I was trying to appear the gentleman for your sister, and I knew if I started, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

“You can’t keep your hands off me?” I say, running a hand seductively over my hip.

He smiles and leans in to kiss me again, his hands gliding over my curves, leaving me gasping for air.

He nips my bottom lip between his teeth and tugs gently. “Take me home with you,” he whispers against my lips.

I trace a finger down his abs to the button of his jeans. “You don’t think maybe we should slow down a little?”

His perfect mouth pulls into a sexy half smile and there’s a wicked spark in his eye. “Oh, I intend to go tortuously slow.”

The muscles in my belly contract as the tingle between my legs becomes a hot, pulsing ache. I grin with the rush and bump him with my hip. “Two can play at that game, mister.”