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“Do you want raspberry chocolate?” I try to push down the worry for now, not wanting Niki to pick up on it. I know his favorite flavors, and since he won’t speak, we go through this every time. I list off the possibilities until he shakes his head yes to something.
“Salted caramel? Cotton candy? Strawberry cheesecake?”
He nods yes to the last one, and I smile at the teenage girl behind the counter. “Can I get a scoop of strawberry cheesecake in a sugar cone and a scoop of pistachio in a cup, please?”
The girl nods, starting to scoop up the ice cream, and I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I reach for it, my heart thumping in my chest as I hope that I’ll see Alfio’s name there. I don’t want to see him tonight, but I also don’t want to deal with the consequences from my landlord tomorrow if I don’t manage to fix whatever has caused Alfio to let the therapy payments lapse. Three days is my grace period for the rent, and the landlord made it very clear when we were late last month that I wouldn’t get away with it again.
I see my ballet teacher’s name flash on the screen instead, and wince. I pick up my phone, herding Niki towards a table, and answer. “Hello?”
“Mila.” Annalise’s raspy voice is so full of disapproval that I know what she’s going to say before she even speaks. “You missed practice today.”
“I know.” I let out a sharp breath, trying to sound as contrite as possible. “I had to take Niki to therapy. I’ll come in and make up the missed time.”
“There’s a showcase soon.” The irritation practically drips from her voice. Annalise has very little patience with family issues—or anything, really, that gets in the way of her ballerinas’ performances. “You have the lead role, Mila, but I’m sure your understudy would be willing to put in the time if you are not?—”
“No, I am.” I bite my lip, struggling to keep my voice steady. Niki has looked up from the napkin he’s doodling on, a small crease forming between his brows. I can see the anxiety starting to make his face scrunch up, and if I’m not calm, he won’t be able to be either. “I’m dedicated to this, I promise. I’ll do my best to make sure there’s no overlap in the future.”
“See that you do. You’ve looked tired at practice recently. If you need pills for better sleep?—”
“No—I’m fine. I promise. I’ll be at practice early tomorrow, and make up the time I missed today.”
“I expect you here an hour early.” Her voice is curt, and the line goes dead immediately after, leaving a hollow feeling in my stomach. I don’t need to look at the printed reminder in my purse to know that Niki’s appointment next week also overlaps with a scheduled practice.
I’ll just have to ask Darcy to take him. I know she’ll be willing to—she loves Niki, and she’s always happy to help, but I hate putting more on her plate, too. And I also hate not being the one who is there for him. I’m already gone so much, with ballet, my evening job at the club, and keeping Alfio satisfied.
For six months, he and I have had an arrangement, ever since the last showcase, where I had my first lead role as Giselle. Powerful figures in Los Angeles often patronize the ballet as a means of ‘supporting the community,’ and several patronize individual ballerinas, though that’s kept quieter. I know several of the girls I dance with have arrangements with politicians and other rich men similar to what Alfio and I have.
Had? I bite my lip as I glance at my phone again, trying not to panic. I know I’m likely blowing it out of proportion, but everything feels as if it’s on the verge of crashing down. Worst-case scenarios slam through my head one after another, and I pick at my ice cream, feeling my stomach churn.
By the time I’ve gotten us both home, there’s still been no response. I tried calling again, only to get his voicemail. By now, he should have either gotten angry with me, or baited me into mollifying him after being ‘clingy.’ Neither of those things have happened, and the stirring of unease in my stomach grows more intense, until I can’t ignore it.
I’ve never gone over to his house uninvited. Doing so would likely result in consequences that I’m not sure I’m prepared to face. I’ve only seen Alfio angry a few times, and it’s terrifying when he takes it out on me. But I think of facing my landlord, or of having to explain to Niki in a few days why we’re eating dinner in the dark, and I push down the fear.
I get Niki settled in to work on his homework, and text Darcy. I need to see someone tonight. Can you watch Niki?
The answer comes through almost immediately. Of course. Whatever you need. I can be over there around seven?
I send her another quick message, letting her know that’s perfect, and then busy myself with chores around the apartment. It’s more a means to keep my hands, and therefore my mind, occupied than anything else, but it works for a little while. I manage to push aside the thoughts of the looming bills, how Alfio will react to me coming to his mansion uninvited, and why he hasn’t responded to me at all—for a little while.
Every so often, though, it all comes rushing back in. My heart races and my stomach twists, and I wonder if there’s ever going to be a time when it doesn’t feel like this. When life isn’t this hard, and I don’t have to throw myself on the limited mercy of a cruel man to make sure that my brother is cared for.
By the time I serve up dino nuggets and french fries for Niki, and a salad for myself for dinner, there’s still no response from Alfio. I hear a knock on the front door a few moments later, and then Darcy walks in, still in her scrubs from her shift.
She works as a physical therapist. We met through the ballet and quickly became fast friends. Even though she knows what I do for a second job, and even though she has some idea of the ‘relationship’ that I have with my patron, she’s never judged me for any of it. She’s had difficulties of her own in life, and she understands that sometimes hard choices have to be made. We’ve known each other for a few years—since before my mother died—and she’s the best friend I’ve ever had.
“Hey there, little guy.” Darcy beams at Niki as she walks into the kitchen, and Niki makes a trilling noise in the back of his throat that passes for excitement. It almost seems like an effort to speak, and every time I hear it, I feel a flash of hope. It hasn’t crossed over into speech yet—but six months ago, he wasn’t even making those sorts of noises. He was utterly and entirely silent.
The therapy is working. And that’s why I have to do this.
“I’ll handle the cleanup if you need to go.” Darcy glances at me, the furrow on her brow telling me that she’s picking up on my mood, and I let out a breath as I try to relax.
“Okay. I just need to change, and then I’m going to head out.” I flash her a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
“No thanks needed. The kiddo and I are always happy to hang out. Isn’t that right, Niki?” Darcy scoops a few leftover dino nuggets off of the baking sheet and plops down in the chair next to him. “Mm. I like the stegosaurus best, I think.”
Niki lets out a choked sound that’s almost a laugh, and I feel my shoulders relax a little. Whatever I have to do with Alfio tonight, seeing this makes it easier. It reminds me why, and that it’s worth it.
There’s really no other choice.
