Page 97 of Wicked Player
There are no signs of his father, and I wonder if he’s even here. “Thankfully, my dad can still enjoy many of the things he loves, like movies, reading, music… Unfortunately, fishing’s a bit more of a challenge. Many things are.”
“Is he retired?” I ask, assuming so.
“Yes, but he often comes and visits at the shop,” he tells me. “He loves it there.”
The door swings open, and a middle-aged woman barges in, her arms full of grocery bags. Colton is quick to help her out, and I assist her too.
“Sonia, this is my friend, Clara,” he tells her as she rummages through the bags for the pint of ice cream. “Clara, this is Sonia. She’s our helper… and good friend.”
Sonia shoots me a kind smile, and offers me her hand.
“My boy!!!” Mr. Rossi cheers as he rounds the corner in his slim electric wheelchair. He has a commanding voice, and he’s a very tall man, evident even as he sits in his wheelchair. We both immediately walk over to greet him.
“So nice to meet you,” I say. “I’m Clara.” His handshake is super strong. If it were any more powerful, he could easily dislocate my shoulder.
“Yes, I’ve heard much about you,” he tells me, and I’m surprised to hear it. I study his strong features. He reminds me of an older Marlon Brando.
“I’ve heard much about you too,” I reply, realizing that I’ve really not heard that much at all. But then again, I knew of him before he ever knew of me.
We settle back on the sofa and make small talk. He asks me what I do for a living, and I tell him about my mom’s café. It turns out he’s frequented it in the past, as have most people in this town. There are only two cafés to choose from, and in my totally biased opinion, we are the best. When I tell him that I live on Windy Bay, he perks up and asks me if I know Judy. I tell him she’s my next door neighbor and one of my best friends. We also chat about the Godfather trilogy, which I love, not to mention all of Mario Puzo’s books.
This is going too well. We’ve already bonded. I’ve officially known him for less than an hour, and we’re the best of friends already. This was not how it was supposed to go. I should have never agreed to this.
We’ve moved to the kitchen table, and Sonia serves us a tasty lunch of sandwiches; pastrami on rye, roast beef and turkey, along with a garden salad and some cheese. We talk about Colton’s antics and his position as CEO of the company.
“People think my boy is just a player, but the kid works hard, and he deserves a little fun,” he’s saying, and I’m inclined to agree because Mr. Rossi is the kind of man that could sell water to a drowning man. “He has a tough life, looking after his old dad,” he goes on, determined to sell his point, despite the fact that I’ve already bought what he’s selling. “You know… he never goes on vacation without me. Never has,” he says. “Doesn’t want to leave me alone.”
“He’s a good son,” I chime in. Colton is staring at his hands, and there’s so much sadness in him, I want to reach out and comfort him like I do with Christian. “I hope my son takes good care of me like that when I grow old… uh… not that you’re old or anything.”
Colton smiles, enjoying my social awkwardness.
“Colton told me you have a seven-year-old son,” he says. “Christian is his name, right?”
“Yes.”
“You look too young to have a kid,” he says, not the slightest hint of judgement in his tone. “You’re just a baby.”
“I’m twenty-eight,” I tell him. “People always tell me I look younger.”
He nods. “Four years younger than my boy here.” He nods again, as if he’s seriously considering this fact.
I stare at the posters on the walls, at a loss for something else to say.
“You’re the first girl I’ve met since Samantha,” he tells me. “You must be special.”
I blush, completely taken aback.
“And I understand why… you’re lovely.”
“Why… thank you,” is all I say, and turn my gaze to Colton who’s smiling.
We polish off our sandwiches, and Sonia then serves us delicious coconut cream pie as Mr. Rossi, or Tony, as he asks me to call him, tells me about a typical day in his life.
Every morning, he has a leisurely breakfast with Colton, then reads the paper and does the daily crossword. Sonia then takes him out to the backyard so he can get some fresh air. Lunch follows, then some reading and a little fiddling on the guitar, occasionally with Colton when he’s home from work. There is also much time wasted on youTube and Facebook where he keeps up with the people he knows. Dinner follows, and then movies, and the occasional Netflix series, often with Colton by his side. Once a week, he goes into town with Colton, or has guests over for dinner. His life is not that much different from ours, he tells me. He doesn’t want people to pity him. That’s why he doesn’t go to town too often, because people often do. And he absolutely hates that.
“You and Colton seem very close,” I say, “like best friends.”
He reaches out, and taps Colton on the shoulder. “This kid is the best. He’s like a golden retriever… so loyal.”
