Forever in My Heart Page 3

Vicky couldn’t help the feeling of panic that clenched her stomach. “Do you really think I need to be worried about him? Jamie and I were friends.”

  “Yeah, I remember the type of friends you used to be,” Nick mumbled, unable to meet her gaze. “I don’t think he’d hurt you, but let’s not take any chances.”

  “We won’t let anything happen to you,” Vinnie said and clasped her hand.

  With both her brothers beside her, she felt safe and knew they’d protect her with their lives, if needed. As the youngest of four kids, she’d taken her share of teasing, but heaven help anyone who tried to mess with her outside of family.

  Based on the heat she’d seen in Jamie’s eyes and the sparks that ignited when they briefly touched, she was more worried about him wanting to finish what they started all those years ago. The grown-up Jamie was even more desirable than his teenage self, which could be a problem given the recent history between their families. Regardless of the temptation, she was better off staying far away from Jamie DiSilva.

  “Jamie wouldn’t hurt me, but thanks, you guys.” She cleared her throat. “What’s it take to get a pizza around here?”

  ****

  Jamie tossed in his sleep before jolting awake, heart pounding and sweat rolling off his body from the nightmare. He lay on his back, listening to the sounds of the city filtering in through the partially open window in his fourth-story walk-up. A glance at the alarm clock showed it was only two a.m.

  He rolled onto his side and recalled his dream. In it, he lay face down in a pit, awaiting the signal from his staff sergeant before attacking the enemy. Prior to entering the army at eighteen, Jamie had thought killing would be hard. Sure, he’d done his share of ass-kicking during his adolescence, but murder was another story. However, once on a mission and faced with choosing either his life or that of the enemy, it wasn’t hard for self-preservation to kick in. It wasn’t as if he liked murder—he’d hated it—but given the alternative, he’d choose his own life every time.

  After every mission, regardless of whether he’d fired his weapon, he’d close his eyes and say a prayer of repentance. Some would say he was odd if they knew how the remorse ate at him. All the bloodshed. All the pain. So, he kept it bottled up inside, under lock and key, basically ignoring it. Had to, or the pain would mess with your mind and make you vulnerable to mistakes. There was no room for error during an operation.

  After wiping away the tears that unconsciously formed, he reached for his smartphone and slipped headphones in his ears. Searching his vast music library, he stopped when he reached Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. His choice of soother would surprise many, but it was the only thing that helped. A few of his friends had taken to alcohol, others to drugs. He’d tried both and neither helped in the long run, so he stopped. Classical music calmed him, and when he needed to, he could recall the notes and hear them in his head.

  He jolted awake when a buzzing vibrated in his ears, surprised he’d actually fallen back to sleep. The clock showed it was just past four. A call at this early hour couldn’t be good news.

  “Hello?” he mumbled.

  “Jamie, oh Jamie. Thank the dear Lord you’re there,” his mother slurred.

  She’s drunk…again.

  “Ma, what’s wrong?” he said, sitting up and holding a hand to his now pounding head.

  “It’s your father,” Barbara DiSilva cried out.

  “What about Pop?”

  “I fell asleep on the couch, and when I woke up your father was unconscious on the floor. I can’t tell if he’s breathing.”

  Jamie rolled out of bed and reached for the clothes he’d stripped off the night before. “Did you call 9-1-1?”

  “I…ah…no. I didn’t know what to do. I’m scared.”

  “Take a deep breath. Can you call 9-1-1 or do you want me to?”

  “I can.”

  “I’ll be there in five, okay? Stay where you are.”

  He hit the stairs at a dead run and barely had the van door closed before taking off. His mother sounded horrible. How long had his father lain on the floor, unconscious? Had he called for help and she hadn’t heard him because she’d passed out? Jamie didn’t know and hoped to hell it wasn’t too late.

  Chapter Three

  Jamie arrived at his parents’ house a full five minutes before the EMTs. By the way his father had fallen, while clutching his cell phone, he’d been trying to call for help. After verifying there was a weak but evident pulse, Jamie covered him with a blanket and tried to comfort his mother who was now hysterical.

  He led the paramedics into the house and held his mother aside while they worked on and loaded his father into the ambulance. Once they’d left, he locked up and followed them to the hospital. Now, his mother sat in the waiting room of the ER drinking the coffee he’d gotten her, while he paced the room.

  Jamie hated hospitals. The smell of the disinfectant in addition to worrying and waiting messed with his nerves and twisted his stomach in knots.

  At his wit’s end, he trudged his way toward the desk. “Any word on my father, Giovanni DiSilva?”

  The middle-aged clerk narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance, probably because he asked her the same question five minutes ago. “The doctor will be out to talk with you when there’s news.”

  No shit, but why isn’t there any news by now? He started to tell her as much when his name was called.

  Swiftly, he made his way across the room. “Doc, how’s my father?”

  “He’s resting comfortably,” the young doctor with the name tag, Dr. Rosen, said.

  Jeez…was the kid even old enough to be a doctor?

  “How’s my Johnny?” his mother asked, coming up next to Jamie.

  “Your husband suffered a heart attack, Mrs. DiSilva. He’s going to be okay. If you come with me, I’ll let you see him.”

  His mother put her hands over her face. “Oh thank you, dear God.”

  Jamie wrapped an arm around her and guided her as they followed the doctor into a cubicle. His father lay in bed, pale as the sheets tucked under his body. In that moment, the realization he’d almost lost his father hit Jamie. They weren’t close—no, his dad definitely favored Sal and Mario over him. Always had. Nothing—not even death—would change that.

  Regardless of their dysfunctional relationship, he loved his father and didn’t want anything to happen to him. Maybe the heart attack would prove to be an opportunity to work on the old man, and he’d see Jamie was the dependable son, aside from being the only one alive.

  “Johnny,” his mother called out, running to his side and clasping his hand.

  “Barb…” his father croaked out.

  “What’s his prognosis, Doc?” Jamie asked.

  “The heart attack was mild—this time. Considering how long he was unconscious, he’s very lucky. He’ll be here a day so we can run more tests and monitor him,” Dr. Rosen said.

  “And then what?” Jamie pressed.

  “He’ll need to consistently take his blood pressure medicine. Right, Mr. DiSilva?”

  His father muttered something unintelligible and stared at the sheet.

  “It’s also important to watch his diet and start an exercise program. No offense, Mr. DiSilva, we don’t want to see you here again,” the young doctor kidded and turned to Jamie. “He should see his cardiologist to re-evaluate the dosage of his medicine. The doctor may want him to have a stress test if he hasn’t had one recently.”

  “Are you okay with that, Pop?” Jamie asked. His father didn’t like taking orders or following instructions, ironic considering he’d always busted Jamie for the same behavior.

  “Yeah, I got it,” his father grumbled.

  “I’ll take care of you, Johnny,” his mother said.

  Jamie had to stop himself from snorting. How was his mother going to help his father when she could barely take care of herself?

  “We’ll be transferring him to a room, shortly. Once he’s settled, you should go home and get some sleep. You can
return during visiting hours.”

  The doctor said goodbye and promised to check on his father later in the morning. Jamie had some other questions he wanted to ask in private, so he stepped out behind him.

  “Hey, Doc. Can I talk to you a moment?”

  “Sure.” Dr. Rosen guided him to a small alcove.

  Jamie sighed and ran a hand through his rumpled hair. He hated discussing personal business with a stranger, but he needed a professional opinion.

  “Despite her intentions, my mother isn’t in any condition to take care of my father.” Jamie exhaled a deep breath. “She needs help for her drinking. I just moved back into the area and have tried to enroll her in a program, but she refuses to go. But now, after this…any suggestions?”

  Dr. Rosen took out a prescription pad, scribbled something, and ripped it off.

  “Here’s the name of a colleague who’s a counselor. Call her and explain the situation about your mother. Given what’s happened with your father, maybe you can convince her to talk to someone. Sometimes hearing the truth from a stranger is easier than from someone you love.”

  Jamie took the paper. “Thanks. I’ll give her a call.”

  Once the doctor left, Jamie leaned against the wall and rubbed his face with his hands. He was completely alone in dealing with not one, but two stubborn and sick parents. He’d always known there’d be a time when his parents would need to be taken care of, and the bulk of the decision-making would fall on his shoulders, but he hadn’t expected to be completely alone.

  Of course, neither of his brothers would have been able to handle this nor would they have been supportive. Sal would have called the doctor a quack and discounted everything he said. Mario would have defaulted to whatever Sal said. Jamie had been the only one to challenge his oldest brother, which usually resulted in Sal smacking him around.

  Jamie rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension that had settled there. Sadly, it was probably better that his brothers weren’t around to add to the stress. Now, Jamie had to remain level-headed and pray his parents would accept his help. At best, he figured he had a fifty-fifty shot at that.

  ****

  “I’m loading up my SUV now, Ma. I should be there in ten minutes to pick you up,” Vicky said while closing the lid to the cake box and securing it with tape.

  “What about the cannolis?” her mother asked.

  She rolled her eyes at Lucy. “Yes, Ma. I have the cannolis plus the cake for Meghan’s baby shower.”

  “Oh, and there’s the gifts.”

  “I’ve got it covered. I only need you and your overnight bag. Don’t forget I’m driving back tonight.”

  “Why don’t you stay with me at your sister’s place?” Carmen DiFrancesco pressed.

  Pinching the bridge of her nose, Vicky said a silent Hail Mary for patience. “We’ve gone through this before. I own a café. I have to be here early to bake and get ready for the morning crowd. Weekends are extremely busy.”

  “I know. I know. It’s just I worry about how hard you’re working.”

  For years, all Vicky had heard was how she needed to focus and do something meaningful. Now that she was, all her mother did was nag her about the long hours she worked. Hello, business owner here. Working hard comes with the territory.

  “I’m fine, Ma. I’m doing what I like and on my terms. I couldn’t be happier. I’ll see you in ten.” Vicky disconnected before her mother could interject another comment.

  “Ahhh,” she said, after tossing her phone in her bag. “Some days I can’t win with her. I hope she doesn’t bend my ear the entire drive to New York.”

  “You’ll be fine, but I’m glad I won’t be riding with you,” Lucy said with a laugh.

  “Are you good? Jenna should be here within the hour to help.”

  “Everything will be fine. Don’t start fretting like your mother. Besides, I have a tall, dark, and handsome man up front who can help if I get slammed.” Lucy nodded toward the front of the store.

  Puzzled, Vicky scooted around the table to peek out into the main room. Sure enough, sitting at a table by the window was an extremely handsome and muscled guy.

  “Who’s the eye candy?”

  “Tristan Connelly.”

  At first the name didn’t register with Vicky. When it did, she grasped Lucy’s arm and pulled her aside. “You mean the other half of Two Guys Home Improvement?”

  Lucy placed a finger over her lips. “Shhh. Quiet or he’ll hear you.”

  “I don’t give a crap if he hears me. What’s he doing here? Jamie isn’t with him, right?”

  “Tristan’s having coffee and breakfast—alone.”

  “Well, make sure he stays alone.”

  “You shouldn’t judge him based on being partners with Jamie.”

  Vicky snorted. “I can and will judge him if I feel like it—and I do.”

  Lucy held up her hands, palms up. “Whatever. I think he’s nice, and he’s not bothering anyone. If Jamie shows up, I’ll call one of your brothers. I know the drill.” She peeked out from the doorway. “But for now, can’t you let me enjoy watching him?”

  Vicky studied her friend. Lucy had pulled her hair from its usual ponytail and wore it down. A closer look showed she had even put make-up on…in the morning. She must have it bad for Jamie’s handsome partner to be bothered fussing so early.

  “Fine. Just be careful around him. If he’s friends with a DiSilva, you should be wary of trusting him.”

  Lucy pulled her away from the door. “Don’t you have to be somewhere? I have things covered here. Go and have fun at the shower.”

  Vicky hesitated, wishing she’d never agreed to make a special cake for Kate’s best friend. Now, in addition to dealing with her mother, Vicky had to worry whether Jamie would show his face. It was going to make for a long day.

  ****

  It was just after eight a.m. when his father was settled in a semi-private room and Jamie drove his mother home. Before leaving, he searched the house and poured any alcohol down the drain. His mother would probably kill him when she awoke, but better that than her getting drunk again. No, he needed her sober when he talked to her later.

  Now, on his way to meet Tristan at Decadent DeLites, he searched for a spot on the main drag before settling for one along a side street. As he walked past the alley behind the shops, he noticed a woman balancing a large box while simultaneously trying to open the back of her SUV. She wore a short dress that showed off a pair of sexy-as-hell legs.

  He knew those legs.

  Vicky.

  After depositing the box inside, she ran up the stairs into the building. That she could run at all was amazing considering the height of the sandals she wore.

  Moments later she appeared again, a stack of boxes towering over her head. Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of movement caught his attention followed by barking. A German shepherd was engaged in a full-on chase with a white cat. The cat was quick, but the dog was gaining ground. Based on the direction the animals were headed, disaster was about to strike.

  Acting on the instinct he was known for in the military, he leapt into the alley seconds after the cat ran between Vicky’s legs.

  “Oh no,” she cried out while trying to juggle the boxes into place.

  He reached the dog in time to stop him from taking her down, and lunged for the boxes that were toppling out of Vicky’s hands.

  “Steady there,” Jamie said.

  She shrieked again, causing the stack to wobble again.

  Reaching out, he stabilized the boxes. “Whoa, Vick. It’s me.”

  She peeked around the mound. “Jamie? What are you doing here?”

  “I was walking by and heard barking. It didn’t take a genius to see they were going to collide with you.”

  “Damn animals. They go at it a few times a week.”

  “Let me get these for you,” he said.

  “No, I have them.”

  She pulled at the same moment he did, which resulted i
n the top box flying off and landing with a plop on the concrete.

  Time stood still, and he was about to let out a nervous laugh. That is, until he caught the shocked expression on her face quickly turning to pissed off and ready to boil over.

  “Dammit. I told you I had them,” she yelled.

  So much for trying to help.

  After releasing his grasp, she stored the boxes in the trunk.

  “I’m sorry. If you would have just let me—”

  “Next time mind your own business,” she said, placing her hands on her hips.

  When did she get those glorious hips? And how about the sexy gleam of anger in her eyes?

  With the smartass comeback he’d been ready to fire back at her forgotten, he stopped to take in her attire. She’d curled her long brown hair, which ran down past her shoulders. The green sundress was cut low, revealing a magnificent pair of breasts. Clearly she hadn’t finished developing the summer before he enlisted. The dress hugged a slim waist, ending at the middle of her thigh.

  Jamie’s heart thudded with lust. Disgusted by his pure male reaction to this gorgeous woman, he’d crossed his arms over his stomach and hoped he appeared cooler than he felt.

  He reached down, picked up the fallen box, and handed it to her. “If I minded my own business, you’d be scraping up the contents of all these boxes off the cement instead of only one. So maybe you should show the teensiest bit of gratitude.”

  She opened the lid to reveal cannolis, half of which were broken.

  What was it with him and broken cannolis?

  She studied him closely. “Have you been out all night? You look terrible.”

  After the night and morning he’d had, he figured he probably did.

  “See, I knew you still cared.”

  “In your dreams. I’m concerned for the neighborhood, here. You look like you’ve been up to no good.”

  “My father had a heart attack last night. I’ve been at the hospital since early this morning.”

  At that news, her anger dispelled. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is he okay?”

  “Nothing a change in lifestyle won’t fix.”

  Vicky snorted. “Good luck with that. Your dad is pretty set in his ways, from what I remember.”