Sophia, Part 11
by Cynthia Piromalli

“I knew you’d be moving out when you got back from uni and got yourself settled with a job, but I’m just not prepared for it.”

“Mum, it’s okay, seriously,” Sophia handed her mother a tissue, then got back to packing her clothes, “I’m only a ten minute drive away, and you know what my cooking is like. I’ll be back at least five times a week for something to eat,” she laughed in the hope that her mother would lighten up. Her mother did laugh, but it was followed closely by another stiff and more dabbing at her eyes.

“We both know you’re not that bad a cook.”

“Yeah, but not as good as you are.”

“Well, what else have I had to do for the past twenty-five years?” Catherine looked down into her hands.

Sophia had to sigh in sympathy, but she couldn’t take on her mother’s issues at the moment. She had enough of her own.

“I’m sorry darling, I’ll leave you in peace to finish up. Let me know when you’re ready to go, and I’ll load up my car too.”

“Okay, thanks Mum,” Sophia said as her mother closed the bedroom door. Maybe now she could pack a little quicker, but her hands started shaking again at the thought of being able to at last be alone with Jonathon in her own place. She tried to keep her heart palpitations down to a minimum as she emptied another drawer.

She only had a few moments to herself before there was a knock at the door. She swore under her breath, then yelled, “Come in.”

“Hey,” Michael said in that perpetually disinterested voice of his as he sauntered in and plopped himself down on Sophia’s bed where his mother had been a few moments before.

“Hey,” Sophia echoed, glad it was only Michael, knowing she could get on with things without any dramatics. He was probably just coming in because he was bored or his Playstation was starting to overheat.

“So you movin’ out, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Cool.” There was silence for a minute, then he asked, “Why?”

“I’m a bit old to be living at home now I think. Plus it’s been pretty weird coming home after three years away. Kind of feel like I don’t belong here any more. Time to go, that’s how it is.”

“Yeah.” Silence again, then, “So it’s got nothing to do with Dad?”

Sophia stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“I dunno,” Michael shrugged.

“It’s got to mean something.”

Michael didn’t answer for a long while so Sophia turned her attention back to packing, then he finally said, “How does he make so much money?”

“Business is good.”

“Come on, I mean really.”

Sophia turned back to him, “What are you trying to say?”

“Dad doesn’t make all that money from a butcher shop, does he? Mark at school, his Dad runs like a copy place or something, and they do good business or whatever, but their house is nothing like ours.”

Sophia didn’t answer; what could she say? Michael had figured it out, at about the same age she had years ago. Michael at least had the guts to say something as soon as he realized, which Sophia never did. For that alone he deserved an answer, but should Sophia be the one to give it to him? She didn’t think so.

“Why don’t you talk to Dad?”

“No way!”

“Look, he’s not dangerous or anything. If you want to talk to him about it, I don’t know, maybe he’d …”

“What the hell would I say?”

“Well, I never said anything. I accepted it and got on with things. If anything ever happens, we pretend like we know nothing. I guess that’s the best way to go about it.”

“Is that why you’re moving out though?”

“No. I don’t care what Dad does, and I’m not about to complain either. Neither should you. You wouldn’t have quite so many computer games if Dad was actually a butcher, would you?” Michael shook his head. “I’m moving because I want to. I want my own place and all that. No big deal.”

“Okay.”

“But look, if you’re ever feeling freaky about all this stuff, you can come talk to me about it. I know what you’re going through,” and much more, Sophia thought to herself, “just, for God’s sake, don’t say anything to anyone at school. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now bugger off will you, I’ve got stuff to do.”

“Okay.” And with that Michael was gone, and Sophia was feeling drawn out about the people she was leaving behind in this house. They all had huge issues, and if they found out about her working for her father, there would be even bigger ones. As much as she wanted to stay and keep her mother’s depression at bay and help her little brother cope with his new realization, she realized it would be better for everyone if she just left. She had too many secrets to keep and couldn’t risk being around here any longer for them to come out.

And then there was Jonathon.

Sweet, handsome, sensual Jonathon, whom she had seen almost every night for two months since they had first met. Jonathon, who had come out of the blue and made her feel so alive when she didn’t even realize she was dead. Who she hated lying to, but who she couldn’t even tell her real name to. She was torn and had no idea what to do, as she hadn’t considered the possibility of someone like him entering her life and having the impact on her that he did. For now she was playing it by ear—making up excuses and white lies she hoped he would never pick up on. Avoiding any and all conversation about her family, much less the notion of meeting them.

Moving out was the first step she could take to ensure a smoother ride. There were only so many times she could keep thinking up reasons why he couldn’t come to her house, and why she was always at his when they wanted to be alone. Jonathon knew Sophia—or Anna, as he knew her—lived with her parents. That wasn’t the issue. The issue that worried Sophia was the idea that her father—a mob boss—would one day run into her boyfriend—a police officer. That was a possibility that she had to make changes to avoid.

She knew that in reality anything she had with Jonathon couldn’t last, simply because of who they were and how wrong it was. The secrets she was having to keep were driving her insane—all the lies she told to Jonathon about what she did for a living, plus the complete secret of Jonathon that she kept away from her family. If nothing else, she needed the space so she could think about all this, and how she could keep it going for as long as she could until there was no option but to end it. Just a little longer, was all she could think when she thought of Jonathon. It was driving her crazy, and if she wasn’t careful, it was all going to blow up in her face. But she just couldn’t stop seeing him, no matter how dangerous it was. You could only control yourself so much with things like this, and for now she was enjoying herself and wasn’t about to let go of him. She’d just have to tempt fate for a while, because she couldn’t think of life without him just yet.

And that afternoon as she left her family home for the last time, her heart beating like mad and her head more confused than it had ever been in her life, she knew only that she felt good and she shouldn’t.

“To hell with it,” she said to herself with a smile as she sped her car, packed with all her worldly belongings, to her new apartment.

© Cynthia M. Piromalli
©2004 StoriesByEmail.com

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