Breathe In (Just Breathe, #1)(46)

Joe shifts, moving a few inches closer and leans, supporting his head with his arm that is on the back of the seat. “There are my parents, John and Elaine. My grandparents on my mom’s side, Leonardo and Magdalena. My father’s father, Angelo. My father’s mother, Viviana passed a few years ago. Then there’s my aunt, my mom’s sister, Olivia, who is married to Uncle Ben. My father’s two brothers, Gabriel and Alexander, who are married to my aunts, Elizabeth and Cecilia, and five cousins between the two of them, my six brothers . . . .”

“Six brothers?” I question cutting him off, shocked at his statement. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” he says with a chuckle. He waits a second to let all of his already lengthy description sink in a little before continuing, “John Junior, my oldest brother and his wife, Emily, and their two children, Lily and John I. Then David and his wife, Charlotte, who is pregnant. Daniel, David’s twin, and his wife, Isabella, who is also pregnant. Then, there’s Anthony, Thomas, James and his boyfriend, Allen, and then me. That’s the immediate family.”

He gives me a moment to process. “So you are the youngest?” I question with eyes wide open and barely blinking.

“Yes.” Giving me another moment, Joe then peruses, “So, what about your family?”

“My family? You’ve met them.”

“No, I didn’t,” he says confused.

“Yes, you did. At New Year’s,” I answer truthfully.

“I’m talking about your real family.”

“They are my real family,” I insist.

Pressing gently, he says, “I mean your biological family.”

I look down at Sadie, stroking her lightly while trying to decide what I’m willing to share and how to present it. “They’re in Jersey.” Avoiding any further prying, I proceed with my next question, but it comes across more as a statement, “Your girlfriend must not like you being all the way out here on the West Coast.”

He grins. “No girlfriend.”

“So, you’re a heart breaker, huh?” I taunt.

“No. I just hadn’t found the right one yet,” he admits.

“So, are any of your other brothers involved in the family business?”

“No. Just me. That’s two more questions I get to ask.” he teases.

“No.” I contend.

Crap. He’s right, though I don’t want to admit it. I want to keep the inquires off of me and my life.

“So, how often do you see your family in Jersey?”


“Not as often as I used to,” I disclose carefully.

“I’m sure they miss you,” he says rather than questions.

“It’s not a big deal.” Wanting to move the conversation forward, I ask, “So, what did you study in college?”

“Business and economics. I had a double major,” he offers without hesitation.

I’m caught off guard by his willingness to answer my questions as I avoid his, which leaves me temporarily without my next question.

“How is it not a big deal? They’re your family.”

“Because it isn’t,” I insist.

“I’m sure they want to see you . . . .”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Sure it does,” he coaxes.

“No, it doesn’t,” I demand, gritting my teeth while rising from the couch.

“How?” he searches with soft eyes and a concerned expression.

“Because they’re dead,” I quietly lash out and storm to my bedroom slamming the door behind me after Sadie enters. I rest my back against the door trying to regain my composure.

I’m not really mad at Joe, I know that. I’m mad at having to explain myself — that I exposed myself. Why did I say anything? I told myself that I wouldn’t share. I could have just told him to ask a different question.

A tender knock on the door startles me. I don’t move, but I turn my head in the direction of the knob.

“Emma . . .” Joe whispers. “Emma . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”





Nine


As I attempt to lift my heavy eyelids, I discover a hazy darkness surrounding me. Blinking slowly several times, my half-opened eyes won’t focus to give me any clear indication of what’s around me and where the blurry, flashing lights above are coming from. My body feels heavy. Still unable to open my eyes all the way, I perceive that I’m laying down somewhere. A cool dampness near my left cheek reveals itself as a slight gust of air brushes past my face. Sliding my right arm up the side of my body like a snake, my fingers creep to my lips. Drool — or, at least I hope so.

Two large and oddly shaped figures materialize in front of me. They are so close, only a foot or two away. Voices suddenly emanate from the now more defined silhouettes. Their speech sounds muffled and trails off into the distance even as I try to concentrate on their words. Who are they? What are they saying? Why can’t I understand them? One of the voices almost sounds feminine.

Another indistinguishable sound gradually becomes more apparent as it grows louder and the ringing in my ears subsides. It’s the engine of a car. My brain finally starts to put the fuzzy pieces of evidence together. I must have fallen asleep in the back seat. A familiar smell creeps into my nose that reassures me — my mother’s perfume.