◆ Rekindling The Love ◆

◇ KEL ◇

"Cloe and Baby Jules are doing great. Ricchar's still with them. In Berlin."

"Yeah. I called Cloe. Saw Baby Jules for the first time," I replied to the raspy-voiced guy on the other line.

Finally, he stopped ignoring my calls. He sounded like he just woke up.  Miles didn't say so, but he did confirm he was still staying with his Mamma Eleana.  "Normal delivery," he muttered, chuckling to himself, sounding a bit surprised.

"I told her she should try at least." I kept up a pleasant, friendly tone. Although I knew he didn't pick up just to   chat about his cousins and their new baby, I didn't mind.  I was giving him time to organize his thoughts.

Enough time until he felt ready to talk over the things we really needed to discuss.  "How's the family? Fun party?"

"Yeah. Lots of guests," I replied.  "Mom, Jill and David's co-workers showed up with their kids."

"Enzo showed up?"

"Yeah."  I let out a quick sigh.  "He just left."

"Baby Meesha liked my gifts?"

"She loves them. Thank you." I smiled with my phone pressed to my ear.  I sat alone in the garden now, trying to enjoy the pretty sunset and cool breeze.  "She likes the bigger plushies a lot."

"Really?" Miles laughed. "Send me some photos."

"Sure." I gripped my phone while trying not to grin again.  Funny.  It felt like I hadn't heard his laugh in a year.  Weird.  "How's your Mamma?"

"Busy with work. The usual."

"Did you..." I cleared my throat and glanced around.  My sister and my mom still looked busy cleaning up the kitchen and dining area with David, Jill's businessman husband.  "Did they find your Pappa?"

"No." Miles snickered.  "Fat chance."

Good grief.  That could only mean his father actually ran off with a new mistress, and just abandoned Mrs. Falco like an old, unwanted toy. Not really surprising, though.  Clearly, Stefano was just another disgusting jerk who lived for himself, spending his entire life seeking his own pleasures.

"But he's definitely on their Most Wanted list now."

"Oh." The DEA's list? And Interpol's?

"Yeah. So that's that..." Miles sighed.

"How's the pain? Your migraines still bothering you?"

"Sometimes.  Tolerable now.  I met Mamma's therapist friend.  Doc switched me to a different pill.  Opioid-free cocktail now."

"Oh. That's...   That's great." I bit on my lip, my cold hand turning sweaty on my forearm.  I took in a deep breath as his words formed suspicions in my head.  They didn't reassure me.

But at least he's trying now.  Finally he's making some changes, and he didn't want to get addicted to opiates again.  That didn't mean he wasn't using cocaine anymore, but maybe he's weaning himself off hard drugs now, too.

"Good people give in to bad impulses," I used to tell him.  Not sure if it motivated him enough to make better choices. But I hoped it made a difference to his self-destructive mindset sometimes.

"How's the training?"

"Same old.  Difficult.  Most of the time I'm just winging it." I giggled.  "But, we're almost done."

"Good. And you're eating enough every day? Getting enough sleep?"

"Yeah. Gained two pounds again." I massaged my forehead.  No bad headache yet despite only getting five hours of sleep last night.  But if we kept skirting the issues we really needed to discuss, I'd definitely end up dealing with another migraine tonight.  I sighed.  "Enzo said, you and Ricchar talked to someone. Someone from Interpol."

"Yeah. Two, three weeks ago," Miles sighed.  He didn't say anything more and sounded rather bored now.

"Are you...  Are they investigating you, too?"

"Sure.  And Nicco.  Ricchar.  Cloe.  Mamma."

Yikes.

"The guy told us it's part of the process.  Basically everyone who often had direct contact with Pappa. And Leandro.  Ignazio."

"They won't investigate Enzo, though?"

"They will. I suppose," Miles muttered.  "He gave us some evidence."

"Evidence?"

"Enough to put away his brother for good.  Then Nicco contacted the guy from Interpol HQ.  Cut a deal with them.  Ricchar agreed to testify in court."

"Oh." Wow. Ricchar and Cloe didn't mention anything over the phone. "That, um, sounds kinda scary."

"He needs to," Miles muttered. "To avoid jail time."

I sat still and pondered the possibilities.  The terrifying image of visiting Miles in prison left me speechless for a moment.  It wasn't something far-fetched, considering his family's year-long involvement with the Tomassinis.

But the fact that Miles was now giving me answers and setting the facts straight without me having to beg... Well, it was reassuring.  And quite a relief.  We're back to being friends.  Trusting each other.  Being honest with each other.

Deciphering his real feelings always felt like playing Russian roulette with my brain cells.  But now, at least he's getting the help he needed. And he wasn't shutting me out anymore.  Like he promised.

◇

To my disappointment, the call got cut short.  Then Miles texted me and explained that his battery died out.

When I tried calling his number again, I thought he  was just gonna say goodnight.  It's almost nine now.  And we were done with the pleasantries.

Exhausted, alone and growing impatient, I sat on the floor in my old bedroom, fighting off tears, waiting for him to give me another explanation.

Darn it.  I wished I didn't shift the subject just to bring up my most recent fears.  Now he didn't feel like talking again.

I had reminded him of Niccolo's warning last time, about Ilya's plans to have the Falcos killed.  As I expected, Miles told me to stay out of it.  That I should  avoid contacting Ilya and his sons at all costs.

Frustrating that I couldn't do anything but wait and hope nothing bad would happen to Miles and his entire family.  But it's probably for the best.  And it wasn't like I had any say in the matter.  Lately I'd been thinking I should confront Ilya once and for all, just to tell him to leave the Falcos alone for good.

Then again, it might only complicate things even more.  Exacerbate the situation.  Besides,  Ilya and his clan of Russian mobsters weren't the rational or forgiving type.

"But when will you have time?" I wiped off a tear as I tried to keep my breaths quiet and steady.

"Time for what?" Miles murmured over the phone, sounding confused and less groggy now.

"To see me."

"I dunno..." He sighed when neither of us spoke for a while.  "Once this shitstorm blows over."

Right.  I should just wait.  Pray everything turned out fine.   "How long's that gonna take?"

"I dunno. Sorry."

Okay.  Fine.  No need to be upset or disappointed.  I should just keep an open mind.  Be more understanding.

At least this time he sounded genuinely apologetic. He just couldn't promise me anything for now.

"Can I come visit you again? Next month, or anytime you're not too busy and..."

"No."

Ouch.  Not even a second of hesitation.  "Okay."

"Not now. Sorry."  Miles cleared his throat.  "But, I'll call if I get any news. And once I book a direct flight. But I doubt it's anytime soon."

"Okay."

"I gotta go. Mamma wants me to drive her to the office."

"Okay. Take care." I wiped another tear off my cheek.  "Tell her I said hi."

"Yeah. Sure."

I bit on my finger, my chest feeling tight and aching a little.  As I sat next to my bed in the dark, I waited for the dull beeps to tell me he was done talking and didn't want to hear my voice anymore.

An awkward silence passed.

My phone stayed on speaker mode while I waited. I held it close to my ear again when he murmured something in Italian.   "Sorry. What?"

Miles sighed out loud and mildly swore in his native tongue.  "I said I miss you."

"Oh."  I smiled and chuckled, no longer holding back tears.

"I miss you," he said louder when I just kept smiling to myself like a drunken pudding head.

"Bye.  Miss you more."

◇