Sergio (Benedetti Brothers 3)
The clerk tells me the total as he bags my things and I pay him in cash, take my change and leave. I don’t even say goodbye. The drug store is two blocks from my house and Ricco and another man whose name I don’t remember are following a few paces behind me. They’re not subtle, but I manage to ignore them. Besides, I don’t think they’re meant to be subtle. Sergio wants anyone who may try to take me again to think twice.
He calls me each night but I don’t know where he is and he hasn’t tried to come over. I thought he would. I can guess what he’s doing. The damage he did the other night was only the beginning. He’ll punish whoever was responsible. Am I supposed to feel guilty about that? I don’t. And again, the same question comes up: what does that make me?
I told him what I could remember about the man in the suit. Told him I thought the others were set up. That the leader knew Sergio would come. Knew what he’d do. I was always meant to be rescued. Another message, a louder one than the funeral flowers left on my doorstep.
I unlock the front door, my fingers icy as I push it open. I’m wearing knitted fingerless mittens. Not a smart choice for the temperature, but I’m lucky I got shoes and a coat on before leaving the house. I haven’t brushed my hair in days. My brain is mush.
After locking the door behind me, I set everything down, give Pepper a pat and head upstairs. I don’t look at the instructions. It’s pretty self-explanatory. Pee on the stick, of which there are two in this box.
I pee on that little stick and set it on the counter. I’m looking at the image on the back of the box, the one with the two pink lines as if I need it to know what they mean. But it’s faster than I expect. It doesn’t take a full minute before they appear on the stick.
Strange, I thought this official confirmation would feel different, but it doesn’t.
I toss the test, the one I already took and the second, still wrapped one, into the trash can along with the box. I touch the dark shadows under my eyes, take out a tube of concealer and smear it on. Apply generous layers of mascara, too much so my lashes clump together. Looks like spider’s legs—like the morning after a really long night. I don’t care though. I drop the still open tube on the counter, watch it roll into the sink, and go into the bedroom.
There, I toss the things from the bag I’d packed for the weekend with Sergio into the laundry bin without looking at them, and put in two pairs of jeans, some sweaters and under things. A pair of running shoes. I switch the TV in the bedroom on, for Ricco’s sake. From the bathroom, I get my toothbrush. I sling the bag over my shoulder and carry it downstairs, put on my coat and boots, and, taking Pepper, I walk out through the back door. Ricco and the other man are on the front side. There’s no way to post a man back here unless he’s in the backyard and I refused. I walk around to the neighbor’s yard and through the door of our shared fence. Pepper follows easily, she’s familiar.
Mrs. Robbins comes to the window of the back door before I even have a chance to knock.
“Natalie, what a nice surprise.” She’s about seventy years old and watches Pepper occasionally.
“Hi Mrs. Robbins, how are you doing?” I ask, walking inside. I’m attempting upbeat, but it sounds strange. Forced.
“I’m good, honey. Cold in this drafty house, but what else is new? You? You look tired, dear. Everything okay?”
I smile but it feels foreign. “Yeah, just school is busy. I was actually dropping by to ask if you’d mind watching Pepper over the weekend? I’m thinking of paying my parents a visit and Pepper doesn’t do well on the longer bus trips. I know it’s short notice—”
“Not at all,” she says, smiling to Pepper who’s already beside the old woman. “I’d love the company, honestly. Besides, it’ll force me to get myself out of the house and get some exercise. It takes a lot to keep all this in shape, you know.” She winks, patting her generous hip.
I smile. “Thank you so much. You have the number?”
“Sure do.” She points to the fridge where my parents’ home number and address are stuck with a magnet from the last time I went away a few months ago. “Spend as much time as you like, dear. It’s nice you still visit them.”
A pang of guilt has me shifting my gaze to Pepper.