Break Away: A Midwest Small Town Romance Read online

  With furrowed eyes, I look back at her.

  “I am not worried about my mother. She left us here. With him. She can go fuck herself! I am worried about my brother and need to speak to her so that I can get him back.”

  “I’m sorry. Sofia, is it?” She looks down at her clipboard that she’s holding.

  “Yes. Now please take me to my brother.” I pick up MeeMee, who sits abandoned on Lorenzo’s bed and rush past her. I head to my room to grab my coat, but before I can make it to my room, her words stop me in my tracks.

  Words are a funny thing. They truly are the most powerful thing in the world. They can cut you, play with your emotions and change your entire life in the blink of an eye.

  “Sofia, you can’t get your brother back. It is going to be up to your mom and the courts. Now, I am going to take you somewhere safe to stay while we go through the process to reunite your family as quickly as we can.”

  I just stand there. In the hall. Still. In shock.

  All hope that I had been grasping onto about getting my sweet boy back, is chiseled away by this woman, who two hours ago was no one to me.

  My mother has to get him back?

  Shit.

  I am never going to see him again.

  I press Lorenzo’s tiny mouse to my lips and close my eyes. I inhale the sweet smell of my brother and fight back tears that are inching their way to the surface. Defeat swells within me and I hand MeeMee to her.

  “Please make sure that he gets this. He can’t be without it.” I go to my room and begin shoving whatever I can fit into my backpack. I ask her why my brother and I can't just go to Mrs. Carlson’s? She tells me that with her being just down the street, the courts would never approve it.

  That night she took me to a couple’s house in Rockford. They were very welcoming and lived in a nice neighborhood. It was in a different district, but with our tiny town not having any foster homes, I didn’t really have much of a choice.

  If you have never been in the foster system, you have no idea what helpless truly means. You have absolutely no control over anything that goes on in your life. It is the most horrific thing that anyone can ever live through. The waiting...waiting...waiting.

  Waiting for the weekly visit so that you can see if your mother is doing what she is supposed to do. Waiting for the tall lady with the friendly face to walk through the door holding your other half. Waiting for the court dates to come and go.

  We were in the foster care system for a little over a year. It was the longest year of my life. I couldn’t concentrate on anything and I failed the ninth grade.

  I blamed myself. Really, we should have been in the system long before it actually happened. But I had made sure that it didn’t. I dropped the ball on this one and promised to never let it happen again. I would never speak to another soul about what went on in that trailer! And I would do everything in my power to get us the hell out of it as soon as I could!

  My mother’s show lasted long enough to get us home and through our front door. She was more excited that the state had reinstated her link card so that she could sell it for her pills, than she was about having us back. No sooner were we home and she was off to her room, leaving dinner unmade and me shaking my head in disgust. We liked it that way, though, Lorenzo and I. He sat on top of the counter, watching me boil noodles for mac and cheese and after dinner we danced and sang to the radio. That boy was my everything and when we were finally reunited, I had my world back.

  I shake myself free of the memory that still haunts me and go to the kitchen to grab something to eat. Eating always helps calm my nerves. While I sit at the kitchen table, munching on some chips and downing a Coke, Crew stumbles in the front door. I instantly stiffen up. I can tell he has been drinking. Right behind him is Noah.

  Noah looks my way and I force myself to relax. I don't want to give him any inkling that I am apprehensive with Crew.

  “Ahhwite, I’m good...leave me here.” Crew’s slurred, drunken voice bellows through our trailer.

  “Ok now, let’s get you into your bed.” Noah looks and sounds irritated. He has him by the arm and leads Crew back to my mom’s bedroom. I am actually relieved Noah is here. Drunk men are the worst. I start picking up the kitchen while he is pouring him into bed.

  As I wash the last dish in the sink, Noah reappears. I turn around to face him while I dry the plate off in my hand.

  “Noah, what the hell happened? I thought he was at work?” Noah stands in front of me, looking his usual perfect self. I can't help but get lost in his perfection. I pray that he doesn’t notice, but I am sure that he is used to being stared at by women.

  “We shut down early today and the guys decided to go out and have a few drinks. One drink led to another and well, you can figure the rest out for yourself.” I watch as his eyes slowly make their way down my body, instantly lighting a fire within me.

  Down girl.

  I clear my throat and put the plate back in the cabinet. “Oh, I can only imagine what could have gone wrong. One shot, two shot, three shots, floor. I have been there with my mother more times than I can count. And it’s even more fun when they mix their drinking with pills. Now that’s a good time.” I turn around and laugh, but stop short when I notice that he isn’t laughing. He takes a few steps toward me, now closer than he has ever been to me. I am caught off guard and I pray that he doesn’t hear my heart pounding in my chest.

  “I’m glad that I brought him inside and got him settled. I didn’t think that it was a good idea to let him come in here with you, alone. After seeing you in this dress, I’m now certain that I made the right decision.” There is that disapproval in his voice again. My blood begins to boil, and I look at him dumbfounded.

  “It shouldn’t matter what the fuck I’m wearing. I can handle myself, thank you.” I go to push by him, but he grabs me by the arm. I instantly rip it out of his grasp. Grabbing my arm is a trigger for me.

  “Don’t fucking touch me!” I am done. I have had enough of his bullshit and I will be damned if he is going to make me feel wrong for wearing a dress that makes me feel pretty and confident.

  His expression softens a little and he runs his hand through his hair. He looks frustrated, concerned, and bothered all at the same time.

  What is up with this guy?

  “Listen, Brown Eyes, I just don’t want you to get hurt. This world is full of men that could care less about you. They don’t care if they hurt you as long as they get their rocks off.”

  What. The. Actual. Fuck?

  “You aren’t telling me anything that I don’t already know, or haven’t already experienced my entire life. I handled it then and I will handle it now. Who the fuck are you to tell me anything about my life?”

  As I wait for his response, we are interrupted by my phone going off.

  Ting

  I welcome the distraction and grab it off the counter. It's Cameron.

  Be there to pick you up in five

  Thank God, get me out of here.

  K…see you in a few

  I look up at Noah, who is still staring me down.

  “Listen, I have to get going, I have a date tonight and he will be here any minute. Are we done here?”

  He rubs at his chin and nods his head.

  “Yeah, I guess we are.” He turns and walks towards the front door. His hand stills on the handle as he looks down at the floor. “Just remember, you have my number.” The door slams, leaving me to sift through the hurricane of emotions swirling around in my mind.

  I will be damned if I use that lifeline. I have been handling my mother’s fucks my whole life. Crew is no different.

  A few minutes later, I hear a car pull into our drive as I am touching up my makeup in the bathroom.

  “Knock, knock. Anyone home?” I hear Cam calling through the screen door. I stick my head into the hall and yell back at him.

  “Come in, Cam, I just have to grab my purse.” I hear the front door slam shut as I grab it off my dress
er. Next to it lays that little black business card. I stare down at it, torn on what to do. Part of me wants to rip it up into a million little pieces and throw it in the garbage. But then there is this nagging part of me that wants to call him up and find out what the fuck his deal is. I stand there, staring at it until I finally snatch it up and shove it into my purse. Along with all the conflicting thoughts that I have about him.

  As I pull into Durand, I look over at the piece of shit sitting next to me. I can’t drive fast enough to drop his pathetic ass off. I didn’t want to pick him up from the bar in the first place, but I need to make sure that he goes straight to bed when he gets home. I don't want him anywhere near Sofia. He’s a perv when he isn’t drunk. When he’s drunk, he’s dangerous.

  With his arm draped around my neck and his legs practically dragging up the front steps, I open the trailer door and shove him through. He mumbles something unrecognizable, and I tell him that I am taking him to his bed. Just as the vision of me putting a pillow over his face starts to creep into my mind, I see her. Sitting at the table. Doing what she does, looking absolutely beautiful without even trying. She's holding a Coke can to those pouty lips as I drag Crew past her and down the hall.

  Then, I am standing in her kitchen, explaining to her why this idiot is drunk as a skunk in the middle of the day. She thinks it’s funny and for a fleeting moment, I am lost in her smile that is like no other. It’s all big and happy, as if she is oblivious to the fact that she deserves so much more. Also oblivious to the fact that had I not poured him into bed, my stepbrother would have been all over her. Especially in that dress, or lack of dress that she is wearing.

  Where the fuck are you going looking like that and who the fuck is taking you?

  The seething jealousy that burns at my skin, catches me off guard.

  I step closer to her and stare down into those creamy brown eyes. I have this sudden urge to throw her over my shoulders, take her to her bedroom and fuck some damn sense into her.

  But I choose to tell her what I think about her dress instead.

  This, of course, doesn't go well, as I expect. She’s a spitfire and is not going to listen to reason. Just like Cami.

  Before I know it, she is storming past me and I grab at her arm to stop her. She screams not to touch her. The way that she looks at me and the sound of her voice is confirmation that she has already been hurt. I am too late.

  Against my better judgement, I keep talking. She stares back at me, a look of shock on her face. She isn’t quiet for long and starts lashing out at me.

  I can’t help but stare her down as I begin to feel angry at the tone that she is taking with me. I don’t want to hurt her. I just want to shake some fucking sense into this girl.

  Her phone starts making noise and she is all sorts of distracted. Throwing me and everything that I have tried to warn her about out the window.

  She looks up at me and pretty much tells me to fuck off and that her date will be coming to pick her up any minute. Probably the first date that she has ever been on, considering she is pretty much raising her little brother. I hope the guy that is taking her out knows what he has. Unfortunately, that is probably not the case. Just some young hormonal fucktard of a wannabe man. Jealousy rears its head again, like I have never felt before.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  I have no choice but to leave. I remind her about my business card that I gave her and head for my truck.

  I get in my truck, slam the door, and tear out of her drive.

  I'm pissed! Pissed at her for being so fucking stubborn and angry at myself for even thinking about getting involved with her. Would I even care if Crew wasn’t living with her? Is that why I can’t get this girl out of my head? Because of what I let happen to Cami?

  This is not like me.

  I can't help but get lost in the beautiful farm scenery as I make my way back to a job that needs my attention. I blast the radio, trying my damndest to leave the girl with the prettiest smile in the Midwest and her spit fire attitude behind me.

  Cameron picks me up in his brand-new Ford Mustang. It's his pride and joy. On the way to the restaurant, he tells me that his mom bought it for him during his parents’ divorce. A kind of bribe for him to shut up about the new boyfriend his mother was seeing. It sounded like his dad made a lot of money, and the new boyfriend could have put a damper on the whole support part of the divorce. His dad still lives in Chicago and they rarely talk.

  We drive into Rockford, which has its sketchy areas that you don’t dare walk through at night. But it is also home to some amazing restaurants and a beautiful walking path next to the Rock River. So, the thirty-minute drive is always worth it.

  Rockford is where my Nonna moved to after leaving Chicago in the early sixties. Nonna was raised in the Francis Cabrini Homes in downtown Chicago. The neat two-story row houses were a large Italian community, full of poor to working class families. She lived there with my Great Grandma Rosemary. Nonna’s father died when she was four years old, so she was extremely close to her mother. Before Nonna died, she often told stories of growing up in her little row house community. When she would talk about those memories it was as if you were transported back in time. Whether it was walking down the sidewalk, being sent to the local bakery to buy a loaf of bread for Sunday dinner, or playing outside on a hot summer night until the streetlights came on, you could feel the love pour out of her when she spoke of her childhood.

  Unfortunately, as she watched Cabrini Green High Rises being built, she slowly watched her once friendly and peaceful neighborhood turn into a memory. When my great grandma passed away from influenza in 1962, life as my Nonna knew it ceased to exist. So, she hitchhiked to Rockford, at the time a booming industrial city located on the Rust Belt, where she landed a job at a machine shop. She met my grandfather, Tony, shortly after she moved to Rockford. After trying for many years, they welcomed my mother, Mona Rosemary Lombardi, into their family in 1977. My grandfather died in a car accident in 1985 when my mom was eight years old. Around this time, factories began outsourcing to foreign countries and empty machine shops started taking over the once bustling and prosperous town. People were losing their jobs and crime and poverty began to skyrocket. My Nonna didn’t want to witness her neighborhood falling apart again, so she decided to move away. She found a small farm town just north of Rockford and settled down in a trailer park just outside of town. After going back to school, she paid that trailer off with her salary as a nurse and we live in it to this day.

  Her story of perseverance is what keeps my feet moving as soon as they hit the floor every morning. She is who I strive to be, not just for myself, but for my Enzo.

  We pull up to Prairie Street Brewery. It's on the river and has a patio on the roof. I try my hardest to contain my excitement. I am not a frequent customer at restaurants. Especially one this fancy. It just isn’t in our budget.

  The table we sit at gives us an amazing view of the river lit up at night. Boats are scattered at the docks, filled with people laughing and enjoying the gorgeous spring weather as the sun starts to set in the distance. The energy that the downtown possesses, makes me feel alive. Nothing like our little fly-over town, which is usually quiet and boring. The liveliest our town ever gets is on a Saturday night, downtown at the square, where high schoolers gather to show off their cars and smoke vapes. That has nothing on the energy that surrounds us tonight. I stare up at the stars dotting the sky as Cameron looks over the menu.

  “So, what do you like to eat? They have an amazing filet mignon here that is to die for.”

  “I can’t say that I have ever had a steak. I would love one.” He puts the menu down and looks at me, his eyes make their way down to my cleavage and slowly back up to my eyes.

  “You look amazing in that dress. I just can’t get enough of you in it. I would love to see what it looks like crumpled up on the floor of my Mustang.” I about choke on the water that I am sipping.

  Did he really just say
that?

  “Wow, you cut straight to the chase, don’t you?”

  “Why waste time when we could be having fun.” He smiles and reaches across the table and begins stroking the top of my hand with his thumb.

  “Well, I don’t know how you all do it in Chicago, but around here we don’t just jump right into bed on the first date. I don’t think that will be happening tonight.” I give him a flirtatious smile.

  “Who said anything about a bed?” He raises one of his eyebrows seductively at me and motions for the waitress to come take our order.

  THIS STEAK IS TO die for, a medium rare perfection. It is beyond amazing to sit and talk with someone, to let all of my responsibilities melt away. We talk about what we want to do after graduation and how different it is for him to live in such a small town after being raised in Chicago. We finish our dinner and share a sinful piece of chocolate cake.

  “So, where to now?” I look at him playfully as I pull the chocolate covered fork slowly out of my mouth.

  “That is completely up to you.” He begins eye fucking me with his emerald-green eyes. I look down nervously at our now empty dessert plate.

  “Well, I don’t want to go home yet. I hope that is the answer you were looking for?” He smiles and nods his head yes.

  “Then home will have to wait. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He stands up and takes my hand, pulling me up. “I have something in mind.”

  He pays the bill and before I know it, we are in his Mustang pulling out of the restaurant parking lot.

  “So, where are we going?” I am unfamiliar with Rockford, so I have no idea where the turns he is taking will lead us.

  “You just sit there and look pretty and leave the rest up to me.” We drive for a bit before he pulls into a forest preserve. It gets darker and more secluded the further we drive. The sporadic lamp posts light up his face as we drive under them. We turn a sharp corner and end up at a dead end. The Rock River sprawls out in front of us with the full moon casting a dazzling display on top. He throws the Mustang into park and rolls the windows down. I can hear crickets chirping in the distance. I suddenly grow nervous, and I am not doing a very good job at hiding it.