~Beauty is Vain~

Reconciled

Matthew 18:15 "If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother."

The phone rung for at least two times before someone answered. There was a low and playful like voice at the end. It sounded to belong to a little girl. "Hello, my daddy isn't home right now, but we'd be happy to take a message for when he gets back." she sounded so proper and well spoken. None like the rest of us slang users here in the South, although most of us can talk well if we tried. "Oh...um, well can you let him know that his daug-" "How many times have I told you not to answer the phone before telling me who it is Alissa?" I heard a tired and stressfull voice say. "Sorry mommy." the tiny voice said, before her line went click. Did they just hang u- "Hello, I apologize for that, who is this speaking?" the female caller at the end asked. I cleared my throat as my heart's volume increased in my chest. "This is Nichole Reed...does Alexander Reed live here?" I asked, hoping this was the right number he'd given me. There was a long pause on the phone and I thought to hang up to save myself from shame and embarrassment.

"Yes...he does, but he moved out, he doesn't live here anymore, who are you to him?" she asked with a honeyed voice that wasn't entirely sincere. "I'm his daughter, he gave me this number to reach him at just a few days ago." I said, confused with the information that she was telling me. "Well, I don't know what you want me to do about it, because he doesn't live here." she said with an irritated tone. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. "Well, I think it would be nice if you-" "No. I advise that you not call this number back, if you know what's good for you, if you dare to I promise your father will know all about your whoring around at strip clubs...which might I add is quite low for any female and he doesn't need this burden on his back, so I suggest you move on and forget about this number, because you're nothing but a hindrance to our success." she said before clicking the phone off.

I held the phone tight to my ear before exhaling. Did she really just threaten me? Why doesn't she want me to contact my dad and most importantly how does SHE KNOW about me and my secret night job? These questions plagued my mind for the rest of the night as I lied awake.

******

The next evening after I moved all my things into a nice condo in the local city, I drove to Angelo's house to tutor him. I brought all my literature books as he needed to brush up on 9-11th grade of Literature. He was really behind...or so he claims. When I finally made it to the door with all the books in my arms. I nudged the doorbell with my index finger while trying with all my might not to drop all the school's academic books. The door flung open and a familiar pair of soft blue eyes greeted me with amusement. "Hey, you're two minutes late...you know I thought you were serious when you said you weren't coming back." he said, ignoring that I was struggling to hold these books in my hands! "Ugh...can you...like help?" I asked, grabbing the 11th grade book from collapsing on the floor. A single scratch on any of these book would cost an arm and a leg to pay off. He finally looked down and took the books from my aching arms and carried them effortlessly towards his room. I closed the door and smiled briefly at the men settled around his humongous flat screen t.v. again.

"Hey! Torna di nuovo bella ragazza!" his mother said, greeting me with a kiss on my cheek. I didn't know what she said, but I hope it was nice. "Hey Mrs..." I didn't even know what to address her as.
"La sua cara va bene, just call me Mrs. Pauletta, you're here again to help my Gem Gem tutto aposto?" she asked me. I nodded. "Yes mam I am." I said back. She looked at me with an gentle, yet curious look. Her auburn shoulder length hair was wrapped in a ponytail and she was covered in flour. "May I ask what you're making?" And by the gleam in her eyes I had just found the key words to her heart. She led me in the kitchen and opened the lid of a pot. "Yes! I am making Braciola which is Italian beef rolls in tomato sauce and along with it Tuscan Bean soup, and for dessert is Angelo's favorite Tiramisu oh would you be a dear and stay for dinner?" she asked me sweetly. As good as the food looked and smelled I didn't want to overstay my welcome nor did I want to run into Gary. "I'm sorry I can't this time, maybe next time-" She grabbed my hand into hers.