Little Secrets(85)
“I guess I already knew that.” Sal sounds miserable. “I thought I’d ask. I wasn’t sure if yesterday changed anything for you.”
“Where you headed, anyway?”
“Prosser.”
“Again?” Marin sits down on the toilet to pee. If Sal can hear her urinating, he doesn’t say anything. “What is that, the third time this week? What’s going on with Lorna now?”
She does the mental calculation as Sal lists off his mother’s current ailments. Prosser is a three-hour drive from Seattle. That’s a ton of mileage and wear and tear on his car.
“She’s been complaining about her other hip. You remember how brutal the recovery of her first hip surgery was.”
“Yes, I do.” She flushes the toilet. “She had her hip replaced right before Sebastian—”
“Right.”
“I should come see her. I feel bad I haven’t been out there since he … since it all happened.”
There’s a long pause. “She understands. But trust me, I don’t think you want to come visit. It’s depressing. She sits around all day, watching her soaps.”
“You know what, I’ll definitely come visit her,” Marin says. “When’s a good time? How long are you there till?”
“Until tomorrow, probably. Honestly, Mar, it’s really not—”
“Sal, don’t be so goddamned stubborn. I want to help. I could stay longer this time. The change of scenery might be good for me. I wouldn’t mind getting out of the city.”
Marin’s getting excited about the idea, about the thought of those vineyards stretching for miles in every direction. While she’s there, maybe they could go wine tasting, something she used to love to do, and there are nearly three dozen wineries to choose from. She never has to pay for tastings when she goes with Sal; being the heir to the former Palermo Wine Estates has its advantages. Sal’s father may have been a tyrant, but the family name is still highly respected in Prosser.
“I’ll let you know, okay?” Sal says. “I don’t know when a good time will be—”
“Maybe I’ll call Lorna, ask her directly.” Marin’s teasing, but not really. Sal isn’t great when it comes to making plans, and if she waits for him to get back to her on dates, she might be waiting forever. “She loved having me last time. I’ll bring up some of those trashy novels she likes—”
“She has a Kindle now.”
“And take her into Yakima for a movie—”
“She can’t sit in the theater for that long, her hip—”
“And I’ll bring up some DVDs. I need someone to watch chick flicks with. Has she seen The Notebook? I could—”
“For fuck’s sake, I said no!” Sal shouts, and Marin stops talking. “She doesn’t want to see you, okay? Other than my father, you’re the greatest fucking disappointment of my mother’s life. You’re the girl I should have married, but never did. It hurts her to see you, and to see that I can never move on from you. She thinks you’re messing with me, and she doesn’t understand why we’re still friends after all these years. Every time she sees you, she gets her hopes up, and I can’t keep disappointing her.”
His breath is coming faster now. Marin can only hope Sal has both hands on the steering wheel and is focused on the road. She can hardly believe what he’s saying. He’s never said any of this to her before, and he’s certainly never shouted it. Marin has always been kind to Lorna, and Lorna to her. She had no idea how the woman truly felt … or how Sal truly felt.
“Leave my mother alone, okay, Marin?”
“Okay,” she snaps, not sure if she’s more angry or hurt. “You don’t have to be an asshole about it. I was just trying to help.”
“Help who?” Sal’s voice is back to a normal volume, but the ice behind it is unmistakable. “You always want everything on your terms, Marin, and it’s not fucking fair. You want to stay married to your husband, but you’re constantly pushing him away. You want me as your best friend, yet you have sex with me when you feel like shit. You want to be known as this successful businesswoman, but you still act like a goddamned trophy wife. You say you can’t bear to live with not knowing what happened to Sebastian, but if you ever find out he’s dead, you’ll jump off a fucking bridge.”
“How dare you bring up—”
“It’s so fucking selfish.” Sal’s voice breaks. Jesus Christ, is he crying? “Because you don’t live in this dead space by yourself. You suck everybody who loves you down into it with you, and you hold us hostage, threatening to kill yourself if you ever hear the news you don’t want to hear. So you know what, Marin? Fuck you. I’m done.”
Marin can feel her mouth hanging open. She has no idea how to respond to this, and while she’s thinking about it, the call disconnects, giving her no chance to retort, to defend herself.
Lorna once told her that Sal’s father used to hang up on people a lot. It was important for him to always have the last word, and he was well-known in Prosser for slamming down phones, slamming doors shut, and stomping out of rooms. Sal Palermo Sr. was an asshole, and at times the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Sal Palermo Jr. could be the exact same way when he was upset.