Finding Nuova Familgia

By David Hwa

Moving to a new home in Kansas City, starting at a new school, and with a new father, Hayley hopes to begin a new life. But an unseen past is about to reach out and tear her world apart. Nick, her perfect father, has a dark history, one that is about to drag her family into the middle of a Mafia turf war. Hayley watches everything around her beg

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wellworth LLC
• Release date: Dec 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781495178412

Book preview

1. The Pit

Orange and yellow leaves twirl, spin, and click around her feet. She has on the acolyte’s cotta from church. It’s the little white smock she wears when she lights the candles at the beginning of worship. But this place isn’t church. She looks around for her family but only sees fake cement rocks and a steep wall. Needles of recognition shoot through her skin and the roots of her hair spike. The unmistakable stench of animal urine confirms her fear. It’s the pit. She’s back in the bear pit and she’s alone.

There’s no one reaching down from the barrier wall, no one calling to her from above, only the sound of dry leaves, jostling in a chill wind. She doesn’t dare turn around. She doesn’t want to look behind her. She doesn’t want to remember what she saw that day, what she now feels approaching from behind. It’s just her and Stanley. But wait—she can’t feel the familiar straps on her shoulders. She reaches for them but nothing’s there. Where’s Stanley?

Stanley! She spins, searching the ground around her. Then she hears it, that low guttural grunt that comes from lungs too big to be human. Against all her will, Hayley jerks up and looks.

Darkness; she blinks a few times. The darkness gives way to a soft glow from her Minion night-light. The familiar contour of her bedroom gradually emerges. A sliver of light outlines the bedroom door because she insists it be left cracked open for just such an occasion.

Her window heaves slightly as a gust blows by, trailed by rustling leaves, then quiet. She looks over at the small chair next to her door and she sees him, sitting guard, looking both dour and courageous at the same time, her stuffed giraffe backpack Stanley.

Hayley sighs and swallows. It was the same nightmare. She doesn’t want to go back there again. She doesn’t dare lie back down, even though her eyelids are already beginning to close shut. She throws off the covers and slides out of bed and onto the floor. She crosses the room, opens the door, and pauses to look at Stanley.

You can’t save me this time, Stanley, she says and squeezes his big soft nose. Thick brown thread zigzags around Stanley’s neck, a reminder of past exploits, and near misses.

She pulls open the door and pads out into the hallway. From somewhere deep below, she hears a distant hum as the furnace kicks on, and warm air rushes up from the basement. She continues, past Willie’s room, past Addison’s, past the stairs, she silently approaches the double doors of the master bedroom.

The two metal door knobs stare back at her. Only one of the knobs actually works. The other is just for show. Hayley wonders: Why have two door knobs if only one of them works? She dismisses this irregularity with a shake of her head, just another adult mystery.

She reaches up and gently turns the working knob. She feels the minute gap before the latch engages, then the small click of metal against metal. She gently pushes the door open and slides inside, being careful to avoid bumping into the other door, which is fixed closed. Double doors and only one door opens, what good is that? Sometimes it seems that adults are more interested in appearances than reality. That strikes Hayley as being very unadult-like, but the more she learns about adults the more she finds unadult-like behavior.

Hayley slowly swings the door closed behind her. She’s extra careful to be quiet, turning the working knob just so, controlling the latch back into its resting place. They still hear her. They always hear her. No matter how quiet, no matter how gently she turns the knob, they always hear her.

She remembers times when she had fallen asleep in the car, and then woke up the next morning in her bed. How did that happen? How did they carry her from the car into her bedroom, dress her into her pajamas, and put her into bed, without waking her up? But if she touches their bedroom door knob, they wake up, the same adults who can sleep through an entire Disney movie, even the funny parts. She shakes her head, more mysteries, too many mysteries for Hayley to figure out tonight, especially this close to her objective.

The only reason she tries to be so quiet is because she knows her mom doesn’t like this. Mom says she’s too old for this, that she should just go back to sleep, it’s only a nightmare. But it isn’t like Hayley wants to do this. She has to do it. Of course, Willie and Addison never do this. They sleep through the night. Hayley’s the oldest. She should be sleeping through the night. She should be old enough to deal with a nightmare. She frowns and grits her teeth. She doesn’t know why she needs this. Her jaw tightens and she pushes past these thoughts.

She maneuvers through the darkness to his side of the bed. She never goes to mom’s side. She doesn’t want to be told to go back to her bedroom. So she goes to Nick and stands by the bed and waits. Then, like clockwork, the covers lift, and she crawls in.

She squirms her way up to the top until her head hits the pillow. She’s out immediately. She barely feels the soft warm covers wrap around her. Some part of her feels Nick kiss the back of her head, and nuzzle her. The same part of her feels the warm weight of his body lying next to hers and his arm hug her. All she really knows is that the nightmares don’t return and Nick has her back. Whatever it is that creeps up from the darkness can wait, tonight she’s safe.

2. Brooklyn Breakfast

It’s just after sunrise and Mario and Luigi sit at a small side table in the back of the Brooklyn deli. Customers already crowd the shop. Breakfast in the deli is a precursor of yet another busy New York City workday. Outside, the sun creeps between the dark streets, still empty and quiet. Half- awake customers trudge through the door, searching for that first cup of Joe to bring them back from the dead. They’re met by bright lights and a raucous random ordering method endemic to busy New York delis.

Whaddayawant?! Speak to me! Speak to me! The boys behind the counter cry at the bleak-eyed crowd.

The customers blink alternately at the menu billboard hanging on the wall behind the barking staff and then back at the brightly lit glass display case filled with an endless array of meat and cheese. One by one, they step forward and mumble out their orders.

How long we been comin’ here for breakfast? Luigi asks.

He shovels another fork full of scrambled eggs into his mouth. Both he and Mario wear short-sleeve polo shirts, extra-extra-large. Squeezed over layers of muscle, the shirts look painted on. Both men look like they live in the gym.

All our lives, Mario says.

The older of the two, he’s just turned thirty. He looks pretty much like Luigi, except Mario has a mustache, and is a little shorter, and stockier than his younger brother. He washes down a mouthful of home fries with a gulp of coffee regular.

Exactly, all … our … lives, Luigi says.

Look, this is a good move for us, Mario says.

Luigi shakes his head. He finishes off a piece of toast and focuses his attention on getting the last bit of grape jelly out of its tiny tub and onto the next slice of toast.

I’m just saying. We’ve spent our entire lives here. I mean, I know the city like the back of my hand, every borough, every alley. I know the quickest way to downtown or the Garden or anywhere, anytime of day, Luigi says.

They’ve got GPS for that now, Mario says.

Those things can be wrong. Sometimes they don’t give you the quickest way and they never take you down the alleys.

We’ll be fine. You’ll see.

I like know’n where the alleys are. It’s important. No one knows this city like I do.

It’s a promotion. We’re movin’ up in the organization.

More like we’re movin’ out.

We’re gettin’ brand new company cars, both of us.

With GPS?

With GPS.

Still stinks. I mean, why us? Just because you and me are single and don’t have kids? That’s not fair.

Come on, Luigi, with Mom and Pops gone there’s nothin’ hold’n us here. It only makes sense. Besides, it’s cheaper there. We can buy a mansion out there for the cost of a two bedroom here.

Yeah, with cows in the front yard. I don’t want no cows in my front yard, Mario.

I think ya have to pay extra for the cows.

Funny, just make fun of me, but where are we gonna have breakfast every morning? Huh, ya think of that? I remember the first time we had breakfast here with Mom and Pops. I remember the first time you tried coffee black. You remember that?

Mario laughs and nods, Then I learned about coffee regular.

You see, there ain’t no place out there like this. We got memories here. This is home.

They look around at the deli, jammed with customers, sitting at the small tables, and red vinyl booths along the wall. Other customers squeeze past each other, some balancing paper plates piled with eggs, home fries, bacon, and toast, while others carry paper bags full of the same out the door. It’s always busy in the morning and Mario and Luigi love it, the noise, the smell of coffee, greasy eggs, bacon, grilled pastrami, and the yelling, back and forth between the customers and the boys behind the counter. It all says home.

Mario nods and mops up some egg yolk with a slice of toast. Ever since his parents passed, he has been making the decisions for him and his little brother. He often worries that Luigi is too soft-hearted for his own good.

Look, Luigi, I know that this is gonna be a big change for you. It is for both of us. And it’ll be different. But the company’s makin’ a move and they need us there. It’s gonna be more money and more responsibility for both of us. We’ll find a new place to have breakfast. It’ll never be the same, but it’ll be good. I wouldn’t want to make the move withoutcha, little brother.

Luigi finishes his last piece of bacon.

I’m not sayin’ I’m not gonna go. I just think it’s a bum deal … I’m gonna miss this place.

I know, Mario says. I miss Mom and Pops too, but we’ve got each other; the most important thing is family.

Luigi nods and they sit in silence. They finish their breakfast and take in the sounds and smells of the deli for the last time.

Ready? Mario asks, finishing off his coffee. Luigi grunts and swallows a last bite of eggs. Mario gets up, clearing his plate.

I’m gonna get us a cup for the road, meet you outside. Pull the car around, will ya?

Luigi, wipes his mouth, grabs his plate, and stands. Ya think they’ll have pizza out there?

Of course they’ll have pizza.

"Yeah, buddamean real pizza."

They toss their paper plates into the trash and Mario gets in line for the coffee.

If they don’t, we’ll open our own pizzeria.

I dunno, I’ve tasted your pizza.

Get outta here. Get the car.

Luigi grins at his brother and goes out the door, sliding past the steady incoming stream of morning customers. Mario watches him leave. He inhales deeply, taking in the sweet aroma of eggs, bacon, hash browns, and lox, trying to capture a lifetime of memories in a single breath. Yep, gonna miss this place.

3. Felicia

I thought we were getting serious.

She stands, blocking the entry way of her small DuPont Circle apartment, her arms crossed, she glares at Stallion. She’s a good five foot eight, not a short girl; she just looks short when she’s next to Stallion. Her hair, light brown mixed with strands of summer bleached blonde, hangs a little longer than shoulder length, and is pulled back into a ponytail that bounces with her every word. She bears that soft Southern belle air, but with steely blue eyes.

Look, Felicia, this is just business, Stallion says. He shifts in his Italian bespoke suit. He had put off this conversation for as long as he could, but things were happening fast now.

Business, it’s always about business. What about us?

Whaddayamean us? We’re still us.

You’re moving away. I’m sorry, but being apart is not my idea of being together.

This is a big opportunity for me. I’ve got to —

Oh, it’s good for you and that’s it, settled, done, end of conversation. What I want doesn’t matter? Who cares about what Felicia wants?

I care, it matters, Stallion says. His goes to hug her, but she steps back, out of reach.

"Oh no, I’m serious here. I told you from the beginning that I’m not the type of girl who wants to be a girlfriend for the rest of her life. You said this was serious."

She points at her and him.

It is serious, he says.

How is this serious? I don’t see you on one knee. You got a diamond ring hidden away in one of those suit pockets?

Stallion’s shoulders slump.

Yeah, see. Mister big tough New Yorker, you think Southern girls are easy. This isn’t serious. This is … goodbye.

No, not goodbye.

He quickly crosses the distance between them, grabs her, and pulls her close to him.

I don’t want to leave you, but I gotta do this. I don’t know how things are going to work out, so I can’t make plans right now. But that doesn’t mean goodbye. It doesn’t mean I don’t care. I care. Felicia, ya gotta let me do this. And when things settle down, I’ll come back for you. I swear.

I just want to be legit.

You will be, I promise. I just need some time to get settled.

Promise?

Promise.

He leans down and kisses her.

She wraps her arms around his neck and looks up into his eyes. Well, okay … where are you going again?

4. Autumn

It’s a cool, quiet, autumn morning, the kind that still feels like summer, but hints of the approaching fall. Orange and yellow corners have begun creeping across green leaves. Sunlight peeks over the edge and a dew covered world sparkles awake. This day starts as all days do, full of hope and promise, free from the cares and worries that recede with the night.

Soft sounds resonate from the kitchen and the smell of bacon wafts through the house. Jess, dressed in her medical scrubs, places the last strip with the others on a serving plate. She dabs the heap of bacon a few times with a paper towel, and then places the steaming mound on the table.

Have at it, guys, she says.

The kids, dressed for school, sit quietly at the breakfast table, cradling glasses of milk and OJ. Still half asleep, their wide eyes stare blankly ahead. Willie, his video game lying silently on the table in front of him, sits next to Addison, with Hayley next to her at the end of the table. As the plate of bacon lands in front of them, they come to life. Putting aside their glasses, they reach for the bacon as one.

It’s the beginning of another weekday morning, part of a new routine, a new life, in a new town, at a new school. Hayley’s in the fifth grade now, middle school. It’s the first time she’s been in a different school, separate from Willie and Addison. They’re all a year older, with Addison in the second grade and Willie in the fourth, but Hayley still worries about them, and misses seeing them.

The past year reordered their world for the better. Now, everything is as it should be, warm, comfortable, and safe … except at night. Hayley shivers and takes another bite of bacon.

Jess tosses the last of several egg shells into the sink. It joins the others with a chunk. The egg’s yellow yolks and whites stare back at her from the bottom of the mixing bowl like some alien sea creature. She takes a fork and beats them into frothy uniformity.

Guys, tell Nick the bacon’s done.

Nick! The bacon’s done! They yell in unison.

A distant Okay! answers from upstairs.

Moments later, Nick bounds down the steps. A necktie hangs loosely around the flipped up collar of his white dress shirt that clings to taut chest muscles. He tosses his suit coat on a chair in the living room as he heads to the kitchen, drawn by the irresistible aroma of bacon. He arrives at the same moment Jess deposits a steaming plate of scrambled eggs before the feeding hoard.

He pours himself a cup of coffee. Jess stands next to the toaster waiting for it to pop, butter knife in hand, a stack of steaming freshly buttered toast sits on a plate in front of her. Scrubs are not designed to be sexy. He can barely make out her lithe figure hiding underneath. Her brunette locks cascade across her shoulders. He suspects that most women would consider Jess cute, but those big brown eyes, full lips, and that dazzling smile can mesmerize any man. He wraps his arm around her waist, pulls her close, and kisses her on the cheek. He lingers, embracing her, amazed at how wonderful she feels, her softness, her sweet smell, her hair against his face. He takes it all in, inhales it deep into his soul, and wonders how he could have lived for so long without her. He has been blessed with a taste of heaven.

Here. He hands her the cup of coffee. Sit. I’ll get the toast.

She looks up at him, gives him a kiss, takes the coffee, hands over the butter knife, and moves to her place at the table across from Addison and Willie.

What’s that doing on the table? Jess points at Willie’s video game. Not on the table while we’re eating.

Willie gets up from the table, takes the video game, and places it next to his backpack on the floor.

You’re not taking that to school, Jess says.

I know, Willie says, sitting back down at the table.

Is the sun coming up later in the morning now? Addison asks.

Yes darling, Jess says. From here on, until around Christmas, it’s going to get darker and darker.

Who’s taking us to school and who’s picking us up? Hayley asks.

She poses this question every weekday morning, partially because Jess’s and Nick’s schedule occasionally changes, partially because her school schedule is different from Willie and Addison’s, partly because she fears Jess and Nick will forget who’s picking up whom, and partially because it’s part of their comfortable, morning routine.

I’m dropping you off today. Nick is dropping off Willie and Addie, and Nick is picking everyone up, Jess says.

Do you know when to pick us up? Hayley asks, eyeing Nick.

Of course I do.

Nick places the stack of sliced buttered toast on the table and sits down next to Jess.

Six … no seven p.m. he says.

No! the kids scream in unison.

Three-forty! Willie and Addie say.

Hayley rolls her eyes.

Don’t make me tell you, she says, giving him the eye.

He stares absently out the window behind Willie and Addison, a slice of toast in one hand and a piece of bacon in the other. Still chewing, his eyes slowly slide down and meet the gaze of the three children. A grin spreads across his face.

Let me see. He takes another bite of bacon. I pick up Willie and Addison at three-forty and Hayley at … two …

Hayley lowers her eyes and starts shaking her head as she spins her hand in the air over and over, trying to coax him to the right answer.

Thir … for … fifty-ish? Nick says, a self-satisfied grin plastered across his face.

Hayley sighs.

And don’t be late, she says.

It’s not the first time Nick has picked them up from school and he’s never been late. But this recurring argument is part of their morning routine. Nick never gives the correct time, so they always have to tell him, and it always makes them laugh and smile. Hayley’s sure he knows when to pick them up, but she can’t help wanting to ring his neck and threaten him when he pretends to forget. It just feels like he needs it. He definitely deserves it.

Okay, Hayley, wash your hands and give Nick a kiss; we gotta go, Jess says, getting up from the table.

Hayley runs to the bathroom in the next room and washes her hands. She gives Nick a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, waves goodbye to Willie and Addison, then piles into the minivan with Jess, and they’re off. As they pull out of the driveway, Hayley notices a black Cadillac parked on the street next door; it looks brand new.

Honey, are you still having that same nightmare? Jess asks.

Hayley stiffens and says nothing. She knows where this is headed and doesn’t want to discuss it. So what if she has a nightmare? So what if she crawls into bed with them once in a while? So what if she crawls in on Nick’s side? She stares out the window in silence.

Is it about … the bear?

Hayley shrugs.

It might help if you talk about it, honey.

It doesn’t. She remains silent and looks out at the passing neighborhood. The houses are bigger here than in Virginia, but the trees smaller.

They ride on in silence accompanied by the muffled sound of tires against asphalt. They reach the school, and Jess gives Hayley a hug and kiss.

You know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you?

Hayley looks at her, forces a small smile, and nods. Then she opens the door. The sound of laughter and talking kids flood inside. Hayley gets out and waves as Jess drives away. She turns to join the other kids walking into the school. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she sees something. A new black Cadillac drives down the street following the minivan.

5. The Farm

Hayley looks out the window and watches the sparse Kansas countryside roll by in a silent blur. Having grown up in Virginia, the landscape of Kansas looks bare to her. Instead of a canyon of tall trees enclosing the highway, she can now see to the very edge of the horizon. Few trees enter her view and the ones that do stand solitary and alone. Occasionally, they gather together in small packs, or desperately line up along dry creek beds. And they’re shorter out here, much shorter. It all looks a little lonely. This is her new world, her new life, and something is amiss.

The new world quietly flows by. It’s early and the first rays of the sun are just starting to streak across the sky. That’s one good thing about the lack of trees; the sunrises and sunsets are huge. They take your breath away. Back in Virginia, the trees conceal the sun as it emerges from its hiding place, but here in Kansas, you see everything. Here, the sky goes on forever. The blue of it all can blind you. And the storms, out at the farm you can see a storm coming while it’s still miles away. You can be standing in sunshine, and see huge dark clouds far off in the distance. Storms can look small and huge at the same time. You can see distant lightning come down, strike the ground, and hear nothing but silence. It made Hayley view storms in an entirely different way. From that distance, they no longer looked scary, they looked … magical.

Addison and Willie slump in the backseat, next to Hayley, both asleep. Hayley can’t sleep, at least not when she’s supposed to. She falls asleep in class at school, but not at night in bed. Of course, she can sleep if she crawls into bed next to Nick, but her mom doesn’t like