Written in Ink

Twenty-six | Alonzo

 When I wake up the next morning, it's because the maids come into the room with breakfast. I don't understand why they've come in though. I never have breakfast here or any meal. I sit up from the bed, pinching the bridge of my nose. I look up again to see the maids walking over with a tray for me and one for Reagan who I find waking up all groggy on the couch.

She changed after I fell asleep apparently because the tank top she is wearing... shifted during the night and she is left partly exposed until she notices me staring and quicking fixes it. I actually laughed at her reaction, a genuine chuckle. She just rolls her eyes, putting the blanket she has around her shoulders, pinching it over her chest as she sits cross legged on the makeshift bed she made herself for the night.

I turn back to the maids that are now drawing open the blinds waiting for further instruction. "A cosa serve tutto questo?" I question what this is all for.

The answer to my question walks into my room with her warm smile. My mother comes around the bedpost, hugging me tightly. "Good morning baby." She kisses the top of my head. "How was vacation?" She asks, pulling back and sitting where the food tray is between us.

I rub the sleep from my eyes and chuckle. "It was fine, mom."

"Did ya' have fun?" She presses.

"I'm not the only one that went on it." I shrug, motioning to Reagan as I take a bite of toast.

Mother gasps happily and runs to Reagan, giving her a great big hug, kissing the crown of her head as well. "Hello dear, I'm sorry I didn't see you."

"It's fine, Remy." She shakes her head with a reassuring smile. "I haven't seen you in forever." They hug again and go into talking about whatever girls talk about. I just sit here minding my own business, scrolling through emails on my phone.

Once I'm full, I stand up and go to the bathroom for a shower. After I'm all washed up, I take the door into the closet to grab a suit for the day. I pick a navy blue one with brown shoes and a bronze tie. As I dress into it, I hear my mom's and Reagan's hushed conversation on the other side of the door.

"Aren't you ever scared?" Reagan asks.

My mother hesitates before answering. "Sometimes. I know it's all weird, and it takes time to get used to it. This... lifestyle is strange and scary but it's what we have to call normal." She sugar coats it for Reagan.

"One of them said that if I didn't do what they said they'd kill me and t-they'd kill my family." I can hear her begging to choke on her sobs.

There is a thick silence before my mother talks again. "I know, I know." I haven't heard my mother cry in a couple years but she is now with Reagan.

"I'm just terrified." Reagan states. "The vacation trip was great. It was fun and he was nice. But it's just confusing the hell out of me. We'd chat and just relax and it was nice, I'd be happy. Then I'll remember the reason I'm here and the kind of person he is said to be."

Ouch.

"He can be distant. But over time you both will be..." She doesn't even know what to call us. She probably doesn't even know what to call her and my father. "It'll be okay." My mother assures Reagan.

"I hope so." I hear them both take some deep breaths to calm themselves. And to be nice, I take my time putting on my cufflinks so they can have extra time. Once my patience runs out, I leave through the bathroom and into the bedroom again.

They both look in my direction and my mother knows I was listening, she knows I always eavesdropped as a kid. I couldn't help it honestly, I like to know what is happening at all times. What people are saying, what people are doing, and what they plan on doing. I just need to know everything all the time. It makes me feel uneasy if I don't. Secrets are my kryptonite.

"Do you have lots of meetings today?" My mother asks me.

I nod my head, taking a swig of coffee. "Yes, I have to get the gala sorted out." I half lie— most of that is set up, but I mainly am searching around for the mole.

"It's exciting!" She exclaims for Reagan's sake. My mother hates any and all events. She is just being nice so Reagan doesn't know what to expect. "When is it?"

"Four weeks from now, September seventh." I answer as I pocket my phone, turning to the door.

I see my mother's face fall for a millisecond before it picks back up again and she smiles widely. "That means dress fitting soon!"

Reagan gasps slightly, making her choke on her drink. "How soon?" She asks in an uneasy voice.

"My guess within the week!" Mother answers.

Reagan lets out an unsteady "oh" before studying her hands in her lap. She is obviously nervous. Probably about the gala. She has never been to any event as fancy or expensive as this. Every gala goes full out, sparing no expense. Well that is how my father did it— he'd buy a show for entertainment, so much food it could feed the national homeless population, and not to mention the gowns some of these ladies have been wearing. Some of them spend hundreds of thousands of whatever their currency is.

People from all over the world come to the gala. All. Over. It is so exhausting having to meet with all these people. Usually we all agree to just speak English because any and all of the states Mafia can't be bothered to learn or respect any other language. Though whenever you can, you use your own language. Mostly to gossip about the Americans that no one likes.

"Ciao." Matteo pops his head to the room, knocking on the door but just walking in anyway. "Oh, non sapevo che avessi compagnia." He notices my mother and Reagan not seeing them before, giving them a subtle wave. "Hello." He awkwardly smiles, addressing them. "Are you ready, capo?" Matteo asks.

"Sì." I answer, walking towards him and out the door and to another day of work. 

Thoughts?